#No hate on cadence i just think its fucking hilarious
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The entire premise of Alicorns being on another untouchable level dissapears when you account for Cadence's basic-ass taste in men
#No hate on cadence i just think its fucking hilarious#shining armor rly is just some guy lmao#their relationship is built almost entirely off screen#also this is inspired by my own fanfic#if i do add a scene with cadence i might divorce her cause like cmon#if cadence can have a baby with some guy then celestia and luna have no excuse to not go on dates lmao#and sunset def doesnt have any more excuses to fallback on#Like yeah punk rock trihard unicorn IS better than some guy#my little pony#MLP#sunset shimmer#twilight sparkle#cadence#shining armor#Sunlight#friendship is magic#sunset sparkle#equestria girls#scitwi#twiset
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Prompt 37 (from the first list) and bodyguard au seems interesting
By the way I love your writing please never stopped just finished your recent fic and its one of my favourites.
~Notes: 😭😭😭 baby u can’t be out here recklessly making me sob!!! I am so flustered right now!! Thank you so much for being a beautiful soul 😌😌 ok NEGL the bodyguard thing is not here Becs I’m dumb and couldn’t think of one, but there’s protective sirius💜 I hope you don’t hate this!!! ILU!!!
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Smash Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Means SO Much!!!!
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Alphard Black was a good man, a man of his community, a man of the law. He taught the ins and outs of the constitution at Columbia, never went an inch over the speed limit, hell, he even separated his recyclables into their proper piles for the garbage collector, and all while spending his down time volunteering at some sort of virtuous charity or impactful outreach program for inner city youths—the man basically leaped right out of the screen of some cheesy, after school special, wacky ties and rumpled hair aplenty.
Alphard Black was a virtuous, humble man who abided by the laws set out for him to a painstaking degree—So Sirius sorta thinks it’s hilarious that he’s kind of the exact antithesis of his uncle— the man who brought him up after running away from his bat shit parents and their bat shit values as the top of the one percent. Just kind of though.
Sirius likes to think he’s still a good guy—albeit in the typical, non second coming of Christ wannabe kind of way. He gives spare change to homeless folks at Grand Central, doesn’t sneer at raucous kids inside of restaurants or busses… for fuck’s sake he even smiles at strangers more often than not—— just the typical, What a nice day isn’t it, smile and not, I’m actually a blood thirsty maniac ready to carve out all your organs and wrap your naked, dead body in saran wrap Dexter style, smile…Which is actually a type of smile Sirius has become intimately familiar with considering that unlike his Uncle Alphard, Sirius may have a problem with the whole “Laws are created for the good of the public,” ideology, and rather subscribes to the way of thought that thinks it’s kind of thrilling to see how much you can bend and skirt around the rules till they break, or till he gets caught. Which in turn mostly manifests into Sirius participating in a very high demand business—the sort that’ conducts it’s transactions within the metaphorical underground, and makes it so he spends his days with a group of brilliant assholes that he considers family, and a discretely wicked boy who he thinks is most probably the love of his god forsaken life.
Mother Mary, help them all.
~*~
“Padfoot too Moony, are you in, Moony.”
A moment of static passes before Remus’s voice trickles through the minuscule bluetooth snuggled in Sirius’s ear, and he can’t help but smirk. “Why are you still trying to make these codenames work—they don’t work, they’re all awful and trash, and we should just stick with the numbers we were given when Moody first scouted us.”
“Mmm yeah, Moons, talk dirty to me.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,”
“Say trash again.”
“I hate you,” Remus intones. He sounds all surly and bothered, and Sirius’s fingers curl together to card through the phantom strands of his hair, knowing full and well how adorably flustered Remus gets whenever they are having one of their little sparring sessions—It’s also the same look he gets whenever he’s incredibly turned on and has no idea how to handle it. Coincidence? Sirius thinks not.
“Ah, Moony, my love, you say that as if my perfect baritone isn’t the highlight of your day. Like you don’t write sonnets and odes about it’s every cadence and lilt in your little diary you think I don’t know about. As if—“
“I’m shutting you off now,” Remus cuts in with his best, I’m trying to pretend that I am so totally annoyed even if I’m actually really amused by you and all your antics, voice. It’s one that’s basically come second nature to him whenever he speaks to Sirius, ever since they had met three years ago and Sirius had to teach him the trick of the trade after Remus had been invited into the fold, while also trying not to completely accost him with his lips and hands and teeth until the work day was over.
“You would never.”
“You seriously have an overinflated sense of worth if you’re starting to doubt that I very much would,” Remus goads, but he forgets that Sirius can see every nook and cranny of the swanky penthouse from his perch in the getaway van, thanks to his very beautiful laptop monitor. And yeah, Sirius can so totally spot that little flicker of a grin tugging on the edges of his pink lips, where Remus is trying to hide it behind the flute of wine in his grasp—his very strong and capable grasp, one that’s wrapped around the neck of that glass just so tight—Oh, erm, yeah. That’s a thought Sirius should definitely not be having at their current predicament.
“Righto, beautiful, whatever you say.”
“Was there an actual reason for your little interference, besides you being pissy that you had to take the get away position this time around?” Remus sighs, long suffering before offering a subdued, half grin to a very haughty looking woman passing him, predatory leer on her plump lips. And jeez, Sirius bemoans her poor eardrums if they’re suppose to be carrying diamonds that thick all night long— Poor hag will probably end up needing stitches like his dear mother.
“I missed you is all, lover.”
“Goodbye, Sirius.”
“Oh fine, you total spoil sport. Just an FYI that Marlene’s gotten into the volt’s room, and she’s decoding it as we speak.”
“Oh, good. Should I-“
“Moons, it’s Marls, she’s got her shit handled. You just stand there and be a the good, pretty honeypot that we all know you can be.”
Remus growls somewhere deep in his throat, and it’s bringing a flurry of such beautiful imaginings to the forefront of Sirius’s mind— including last night, with Remus’s lovely, thin wrists tied up and Sirius’s mouth trailing up and down his every patch of skin.
God, was that a good night.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
“I know, it’s a point of pride for me that I get to say I tap that. But hey, always game to switch things up if you are?”
“You are the absolute worst person ever.”
“Ooo are we circling back around to speaking filthy things, because I’ve been having this fantasy including you and these lace—“
That’s when Remus actually does shut off the communication device, and starts chatting up some smarmy businessman who can’t stop staring at his protruding collarbones.
Sirius is most certainly not jealous.
Nope, not at all—Not even a little bit.
Sirius is not jealous.
Okay, fine…So he’s a bit bothered, but can anyone blame him? All of that—chorded muscles and sparkling eyes—is reserved for Sirius, and Sirius alone. It’s taken years of volleying barbs and really intense sexual tension that was all finally resolved after a way too dramatic spat outside some sleazy BDSM club on the wrong side of town where Sirius got himself fucking shot, and Remus couldn’t stop yelling at him for being such a mother fucking, idiotic, thoughtless prick, (Remus’s words not Sirius’s,) for them to finally get to this point. For fuck’s sake, it seemed as if Remus’s anger fueled diatribe would never end, so Sirius just took the dilemma into his own hands and slanted their lips together, bloody and breathless, panting out an “I love you too,” while Remus just patted up and down Sirius’s torso, not knowing where to put his hands, dumbfounded and eager. As if he could hardly believe that it was actually happening, as if he was shocked that Sirius had finally just put them out of their mutual misery and spoke out loud what’s been lingering in their gazes, and tailing the ends of too short exchanges for years at that point—ones always composed of banter and barbs but always to fearful to take the extra step they yearned for.
Yeah, so it wasn’t exactly a cinderella story level of romance, but the point is they’ve fought tooth and nail to finally get to this point in their relationship. Nights made up of spilt hair on warm sheets, and hungry kisses of farewell, and shirts tumbling together so many times that they don’t even know which belongs to who anymore—All of them lingering with a sent of both of them, together. Something intimate. Something remarkable. Something far too soft when considering their line of employment—But it works for’m, and that’s all that counts.
Before Sirius could get to lost in getting all starry-eyed over the life they’ve built for themselves, Sirius moves to sweep his hands across the keyboard, A cautious eye still on Remus and his unwanted suitor while dividing the screen so that he can check back on Marlene’s progress, which is quite impressive if he does say so himself.
“And Black Widow pulls through again,” He commends with a low whistle, watching her practically stroll out of the volt, ancient artifact securely settled in the bag swinging off her shoulder, and cocky sneer proudly splayed across her pretty face.
“You know it dweeb.”
“THat’s not my code name,” Sirius points out with a put upon exhale.
Marlene’s only response is to hike up her manicured brows in counterfeit surprise. “you sure? I could’ve sworn…”
Sirius legitimately contemplates just driving off and leaving her stranded, signaling to Remus a separate meet up point for just the both of them. But Eventually, he reasons that might be a bit of an over reaction. So he settles for just growling out a reminder for her to “Respect the name,” while a glowing Marlene slinks into the passenger seat.
“Your so precious.” Sirius swats her hand away where she’s begun rubbing her knuckles into his scalp. “Call pretty boy and let’s bounce, will you?”
Reluctant, Sirius listens—only and only because he’s about ninety nine point five percent positive that she could probably beat’m to a pulp with one hand tied behind her back and both eyes glued shut.
~*~
The mission was one they’ve been calculating for months, a huge catch with a credibility brought with it that doubles its actual monetary prophet—(And wowza, that price check is all levels of ridiculous.) Moody is beyond proud, and tells them as much with a crazy large celebration back at their little underground headquarters, (which is actually an entire floor on one of the top levels of a huge ass skyscraper in the meatpacking district that disguises itself as just a financial consultant firm in the light of day.)
It’s made even more wonderful considering how he, Remus and Marlene are basically the guests of honor for their success. So that night they drink, and dance and just generally get absolutely slobbered…Then subsequently remember nothing the following morning, as tradition always dictates.
Though Sirius does distinctly remember trading sloppy hand jobs in the bathroom with Remus while the latest Beyonce banger pounds in the space between them.
It’s a good night.
~*~
Unsurprisingly, the hangover that persists even two days later really makes Sirius question the worth of all that celebrating, and he ponders on whether or not being sober would be so bad.
“Morning, Black!”
Sirius cringes back at a crowing Dorcas—Looking as wickedly gorgeous and put together as always—Dark eyes clear and methodic, and long curls obviously freshly washed.
“Sorcerous!” He accuses with as much vehemence as he could muster. “your evil! How are you even so perky! Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting my eyes!”
Dorcas just preens with far too much amusement than what should be warranted—it’s almost as if she’s enjoying his pitiful disposition. “Not all of us got as sloppy as you Saturday night may I remind.”
“Then you’re doing your entire life incorrectly.”
“I just have a modicum of self restraint, unlike you.”
“Lies! Lies and slander! I am so very disciplined! I didn’t even tell you guys about the time Remus gave me a blow job in the middle of a glass elevator when we were shopping for Jamsie and Lily’s engagement gift!”
Dorcas just rolls her eyes heavenwards, painstakingly exasperated. “C’mon, dumb ass, Alice needs you to use those hacking skills of yours to get the money Lestrange still owes us for collecting those tears of the ocean. And her bank account is sealed shut.”
“Ah, no Cas ’s too early! And my head hurts! I can’t.”
“Shouldn’t have been such a drunken mess during the party I reckon,” Dorcas scoffs with an imperious tilt of the head, tugging him along without even an ounce of sympathy.
“Hey! It was a celebration!” Sirius flails, and Dorcas just looks at him with a decidedly unconvinced glower.
“It’s all in moderation Sirius.”
“Not at a party it isn’t!” He argues back, totally knowing he’s in the right.
“Yeah whatever, you’re just lucky you weren’t sent off to Shanghai with lover boy, which by the way,” Dorcas pivots on her heels to face Sirius straight on, prodding at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. “Looks like you missed a hickey sweets,” she toots loftily, poking at it again, a flush blooming across Sirius’s cheeks in response. “Not good work decorum if you ask me.”
“You’re face ’s not good work decorum,” Sirius snarks back mulishly. Dorcas just laughs with glee.
“Do I need to talk to poor, innocent Remus about proper biting placement for you once he gets back?”
“Pff, Remus and innocent don’t belong in the same sentence.”
“Fine, then I can just give you some tips on how to properly layer foundation? I’m sure it’s a travesty how easily shit shows up with your Wonder Bread complexion.”
“You actually are evil! Aren’t you?”
Sirius could still hear Dorcas’s cackles from down the hall where Alice has set him up for the morning, and he idly thinks to himself how exactly he’s made it so that every woman in his life could destroy him with nothing more than a look.
~*~
Considering that all of their livelihoods are basically glorified bank robbers, Sirius knows that their jobs don’t really lend themselves to being able to check in on each other whenever they’d please—the only devices they’re allowed for communication are the bluetooth sets for the team deployed on the task at hand, and a single burner. It can get annoying sometimes, but Sirius and Remus always make it a point to send each other a message from the router phone whenever they arrive to the mission’s ground of operation—It’s a practice ingrained into them, one they began long before they ever started dating, one that they never break, not even if they’re arguing or it’s the middle of the night—It’s important. They’ve both lost to many people in their short lives, and they both know how it feels to be delegated to the worrying mess, wondering what’s happening to their loved one, being consumed by the most awful of possibilities. They do it because they respect each other far too much not to.
So Sirius finds it excruciatingly odd that he doesn’t hear from Remus in over thirty-six hours since he left to the Shanghai hit.
“Maybe he just forgot, Pads,” James shrugs, always the level headed ringleader. “No Proclivity is absolutely bullet proof—Ah, excuse me for the unplanned pun.” He scratches the back of his head a little sheepishly— the glasses of his wireframes glinting in the light of their shared workspace.
And the thing is, point. James is totally right. Remus just could’ve forgot. It was a long plane ride, he could’ve just been jet legged and a little dazed and it could’ve just slipped his mind to message Sirius when he landed. That’s totally a possibility.
But see the thing is, that’s also totally not a possibility—like at all. Remus is like the most diligent person on the face of the planet, which may kind of seem out of character considering how he’s more of the type to follow his heart over protocol when it counts, and his entire livelihood is based off the evasion of the law—But even still, Remus is also the guy who likes a true and tried method. He likes having security in the aspects of his everyday life he can control. Sirius knows how borderline neurotic Remus can get about certain things, like finishing all of his paper work the night it’s given, or having a stable workout regiment, and a bunch of other minuscule, everyday things that tethers him. But Sirius also knows that the texts Remus sends him blows all of those out of the water. They’re something crucial—something vitally important. If the roles were reversed, if it were Sirius who forgot to send the text, then yeah, Remus would have a perfect history to look back on and just shrug it off as Sirius having been thoughtless, no big deal. Remus would just make a note to give him an ear full when he gets back.
But the rolls aren’t reversed.
It’s Remus who didn’t send anything, and Sirius knows it in his heart of hearts that this is not normal, that Remus would never have forgotten. Remus would never have fucking been able to go to sleep without passing Sirius a message of safe arrival. It’s just not him.
James still looks unsure even after Sirius’s way to verbose and borderline babbling explanation of why he knows something isn’t adding up, so he decides to hit him below the belt.
“If this were Lily you wouldn’t be second guessing this.”
James jolts back as if Sirius had just smacked him, which Sirius guesses is kind of true, in the metaphoric sense at the very least. But whatever, Sirius’s right, and he knows it.
IF this was Lily— the beautiful, kind baker that James had met coincidentally on a random Sunday afternoon, someone completely divorced from this world— well, there would be no room for discussion.
“IF this were Lily you would trust your gut, and we’d already know what went wrong. We’d know that you were right, the she wasn’t safe.” Sirius’s face feels heated, and he knows that his throat is closing up, but he can’t help it god damn it. This is Remus—And even the thought of him being in any way hurt—No, Sirius refuses to think that way. Because he’s not, he can’t be. This is Remus god damn it. He’s brilliant and strong and he can handle himself. He’s what everyone in their group secretly strive to be—He’s not hurt, he can’t be hurt.
James just sits there, gawking at Sirius, for a moment of pure and utter silence. Sirius doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t fold back from the intensity in his best friend’s— his brother’s— gaze.
“This is Remus god damn it, James”
Something fierce rippling over his face, James nods, finally seeming to understand.
“Let’s tell Moody, and call a group meeting. We need to figure out what the hell’s going on.”
Sirius sags with the little relief he’s given, pretends that it doesn’t feel like there’s not a wildfire still spreading over his chest from the bone deep fear.
~*~
Two hours later finds their little ragtag group huddled in the largest meeting room they have, and Sirius hunched over a menacing letter that was hand delivered by one of Lestrange’s ghoulish little minions— Crouch if their intel is correct.
“Any news is good news, right?” Peter— their mousey little researcher— says in some weak attempt of comfort from where he’s silently been situated in the love seat the furthest away from the lump some, and Sirius replies by snarling viciously at him; making Peter shutter back, like the spineless weasel Sirius has always assumed him to be.
Sirius is not comforted. Sirius is furious and sick and he hates everything in sight. And all Sirius could think of is Remus, Remus, Remus.
“What do we do,” James’s voice is strong, convicted in the painful silence of the room—But when Sirius looks up, he could still see the worry etched into his handsome features, and the fear threaded into his stance.
James is scared, and that might worry Sirius more than anything else could.
“This is my fault, I sanctioned just stealing the money she owed us and I was the one who thought Remus would be fine on a solo mission—I thought it’d be a simple grab. I didn’t put two and two together—I just didn’t—“ Alice breaks off, looking away from the group, and Frank slings an arm around his wife’s slender shoulders.
“Hey now, ’s not your fault, ’s not no ones,” as if to emphasize his point, Frank gives a downright menacing grimace to everyone in the room, daring them to disagree. “It’s Remus, he’s resilient. And that bitch knows if he’s actually hurt we’ll destroy everything she’s ever built for herself.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Sirius’s surprised of the jaggedness of his own voice, leveling him with a look of utter fury. “She’s a psychotic, selfish, self indulgent bitch—There’s worse things than just beating him up or locking him in some cellar.”
From the corner of his eye he sees Alice shutter, is briefly reminded of that stint where she was badly injured after a run in with one of the darker ringleaders in their line of work, Riddle. And then he remembers, unbidden, how that bastard has some sort of fucked up Harley Quinn, Joker esthetic going on with Bellatrix Lestrange— and a sick, twisted part of Sirius that actually does blame Alice for sanctioning those two risky missions so close together, is savagely pleased of the effect that the reminder has on her. But the rest of Sirius is just disgusted by himself and hates himself even more when remembering where Remus is at this very moment, and what he must be going through. There’s no time to be pointing fingers, and Sirius knows it.
“Whatever, no time to think of it now,” Sirius rises, and the way all of their eyes follow his every move (Even Moody who is the actual boss— doesn’t go over his head.
“What do you think we should do from here?” Dorcas asks in a small voice, clutching onto the letter like a life line—She’s Remus’s best friend, Sirius knows that, knows that she stopped only skirting along the edges of this unsavory line of work until Remus came along and helped her wiggle out of her shell. And the reminder makes Sirius feel such a burst of aching for Remus all at once that he nearly topples over, just barely catches himself with a hand on the tabletop.
“Peter,” Sirius barks, making the blonde finally straighten. “Check out where Bellatrix is scheduled to appear next.”
“Ah, erm on it, of course.”
Sirius starts to feel a little better—no not better, balanced. He knows what needs to be done, what will happen next, knows that it’ll turn out all right.
It has to turn out all right, because he can’t fathom a world where it doesn’t— a world without Remus isn’t worth even a breath.
~*~
If there’s anything that Sirius knows about supreme bitch face herself, it’s that Bellatrix is cavalier to a fault. So it really doesn’t surprise him when Peter finds out that she’s holding a little gala for her new play things art exhibit in her own home that night, and Sirius intends on giving his congratulations, whether or not he’s on the guest list.
~*~
“Hey, can you hear me.”
Sirius presses an inconspicuous finger onto his eardrum when Dorcas’s voice breaks through, speaking the affirmative.
“All right, well Moody says that upstairs is most likely where you’ll find’m. Marlene and James will stay down at the party just incase anything goes wrong.”
“Right,” Sirius nods to himself, trying to put together all the new information that’s swimming in his mind. “Thanks Cas.”
“Stay safe, and bring him home. Don’t fuck this up, Sirius.” Her voice is small and fragile. Sirius could picture the gleam to her big doe eyes. “We need you both safe.”
“Of course."
~*~
As expected, the upstairs is a labyrinth of doors and alcoves that Sirius could barely wrap his mind around, the only constant thought is that it makes sense that Bellatrix would want to keep the money from the job she had them perform for her. The rent for this place definitely can’t be cheap.
Sirius tries at least ten different rooms before he comes across one that’s locked from the inside as well as a deadbolt, and His heart seizes with a choked sort of hope before he starts pounding against it.
“Remus! Remus! Are you in there!” His voice goes ragged at how loud he’s screaming, but Sirius doesn’t let up. He starts calling for him even louder if possible. “Remus!”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Sirius stiffens, his blood running cold before slowly turning around to a very amused looking Bellatrix Lestrange. Predatory sneer swept across her blood red lips, and weight slung to her left hip. The picture of radiance and leisure in her slinky, black dress. She’s having fun toying with Sirius, with all of them.
“Where the fuck is he,” Sirius spits out tersely—trying to sear wholes right through her disarming face. He thinks with a start that she’d be pretty in an almost unchanging way—a timeless elegance that kind of mirrors Remus’s. But where beneath Remus’s golden exterior is all passion and goodness and an endless capacity of love, under Bellatrix’s pale white skin and dark eyes and sheets of even darker hair is just ugliness and cruelty and Sirius has never hated anyone more, or so intensely.
“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry that they sent the best of their group to the den,” She swaggers up to him, each step premeditated—a lion closing in on her prey, and her leer right then— self assured and cruel all at once— is like a mirror of his mother’s so thoroughly that it’s painful. “I’d really hate to ruin those movie star good looks you’ve got going on,” she runs the back of her hand down his face slowly, tendrils of her warm breath edging his lips. “And honey, you really are so deliciously gorgeous. But Moody needs to learn that no one double plays me so flippantly. No respect, that kind of behavior really can’t be tolerated. You understand that, don’t you love?”
Right then, Bellatrix moves to gouge Sirius right in the stomach with a dagger she had hidden in the sleeve of her dress—but Sirius’s quicker.
He sweeps Bellatrix’s feet right from under her, twisting her arm behind her back and using her own weapon to chop off the doorknob, all in one fluid movement. Though, he only has a sparing moment to feel boastful before he steps into the room to find Remus—sickly looking with blood matted in his golden locks, before everything turns to a buzzing in the background—Sirius runs on autopilot, with the only crucial thought being to get Remus out safely.
“Baby, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Sirius tells him with the words catching in his throat, and feels such a drowning amount of relief when he hears a gargled retort from Remus. “I’d never let anything happen to you, love. I’m so sorry. I’ll never let something like this happen again.” Sirius tells him with all the earnestness in the world, gently collecting him into his arms. “I’ve got you now, I won’t let go.” The promise is as sure and true as the pump of his heart—Remus, Remus, Remus.
~*~
When they all return to headquarters, everyone circles a still limp and shallowly breathing Remus, while Dorcas figures out the extent of his injuries.
It’s the worst hour of his life Sirius thinks—The not knowing, it hurts like nothing else. And he swears once more, to himself and the moonlight and the stars peeking through the skyline that he’ll never let this happen, never again., doesn’t want Remus ever out of his sight.
~*~
A week later, and everything feels as if it’s back to normal—more or less.
Their bedroom smells like sage—thanks to the candles Lily bought Remus for his last birthday—And Remus’s swaddled into the most comfortable blanket Sirius could find—his twisted ankle elevated, and a fresh bowl of soup on his night stand.
It’d be the picture of absolute bliss… Now if Remus wasn’t scowling so morosely.
“You seem mad,” Sirius notes, standing over him with a freshly fluffed pillow. Remus looks up at him from under his spider leg lashes, so very unimpressed.
“You’ve never taken care of me nearly so intently a day in your life.” Remus charges.
“Untrue!” Sirius squawks in contrary.
“When I got food poising from that sushi place last year, you blamed me for eating it wrong.”
“Yeah, well it’s blasphemous to ever blame Kimiko! The woman is a titan!”
Remus’s mouth quirks up, his eyes twinkling with unadulterated adoration. “You’re an idiot.”
Sirius deflates. “Okay, so I might be kind of majorly mother penning it right now,” Remus cranes a incredulous brow. “Okay, okay so a lot mother penning it. But, Remus— love— you were missing—like legitimately missing. And then i found you and you were…” He trails off, can’t even speak the horrors of that night.
“Yeah, I was,” Remus links their fingers together, pulling Sirius closer, and opening his mouth so that when Sirius crouches to come face to face, he can kiss him properly. “But you happen to be a pretty all right boyfriend, you found me—I’m fine. You made sure of that.”
“More than all right prick,” Sirius knocks their foreheads together and Remus feigns being in excruciating pain. “I fucking hate you,” he snorts, saddling against Remus’s side, and nuzzling into his neck, taking in the miraculous scent of him— the citrus and cinnamon and sunlight that he’s come to crave at all hours of the day. “I love you sort of a lot, and it was the worst three days of my life, all right. Can you understand that?”
Remus only hums, kisses the tips of Sirius’s fingers before lacing them into his own.
“I understand, love, but Sirius, I’m fine. I’m here. You’re amazing, but you don’t need to protect me. Not constantly. This is our lives, and I need you to trust me that I can handle myself for the most part. All right?”
Sirius makes a displeased sound, lips curled distastefully, and it makes Remus actually giggle like they were school boys again. And Jesus, Remus’s smile is blinding and beautiful and fucking hell, he’s here. He’s back in there room, back in Sirius’s arms.
“God, I missed you.”
Remus crunches upwards, kissing Sirius, and it feels like a promise that he’ll never leave him again. “I love you Sirius.”
Sirius leers, isn’t ready to have the conversation about learning how to let Remus go out without him. So instead he traces his thumb over Remus’s beautifully plump bottom lip, and bends down to whisper into his ear. “So can we talk about the lace then, because I’ve made some purchases and—“
Remus pushes him off their bed, and Sirius feels his laughter punching out of him in response.
~*~
~My Wolfstar FIC Index💜
#WOLFSTAR#REMUS LUPIN#SIRIUS BLACK#SIRIUSXREMUS#WOLFSTAR FLUFF#REMUSXSIRIUS#HARRY POTTER SERIES#MARAUDERS#THE HARRY POTTER SERIES#spilt ink#love you angel#?!!!#This is edited from an old old FIC of mine#in my drafts#and i'm afraid my writing is so so contrasting#rip#sdlkjgalksdfjoiwpqgdsa
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for the serpent has died and i’m leaning by your side (2/6)
this fic can also be found on ff.net and ao3.
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He hates being reduced to the role of civilian – a convalescing civilian, even more. He hates the red tape that surrounds his recovery; hates that Riza still hasn’t come out of her coma like the doctors said she would.
The aftermath of the Promised Day isn’t pleasant for anybody involved.
He drifts in and out of consciousness as the constant stampede of footfalls beat a lulling tempo that is comforting as much as it is desensitising. He jolts himself awake every once in a while, and Riza simply squeezes his hand lightly every time. It’s hard to resist the temptation to let himself fall asleep properly, but his bones and muscles are protesting and coupled with the familiar smell of Riza that make it easy to drift off.
He’s vaguely aware of the vibrations under his feet and Riza’s hand on his back. It’s a hazy sort of existence that he finds far too easy to slip into further.
She suddenly moves against him and her tone is frantic. He’s awakened by the sudden movement, the volume coming from his left, and he’s confused for a moment as he opens his eyes and sees nothing but deep, dark abyss. It all comes rushing back to him and he tenses as her voice becomes more panicked.
“No, you can't take me from him I need to-”
"Ma'am you need to come with us now, we need to have a doctor look at your injuries-"
"Look at his!" Her voice is cracking and straining in ways that he knows must not be good for her – he would wager that she's in a lot of pain right now. Her hand is gripping his shoulder tightly, to the point where he can feel her fingernails digging in again once more – not enough to hurt, but enough for him to realise just how much she is holding back.
She coughs suddenly, gasping for air and he knows her well enough to know that if she pushes herself any further she will hurt herself and he will not put her in anymore danger if he can help it – for too long she has guarded his back and fended off whatever bullets, literal and metaphorical, have been aimed his way.
Enough is enough. He will not have her rendered useless for his sake.
"Hawkeye," he says softly, his hand slipping down from her neck to curl into her hair again. He tugs softly, and mourns for the stability she will no longer provide. It will be hard to exist here in the dark with only Briggs and Central soldiers to tell him what to do, what is happening. He hates being useless and he's a little affronted at how easy it was of Truth to bring him down to his knees – he supposes that's his human arrogance shining through once more.
My alchemy will help people. Joining the military will save citizens.
He sighs, and loses his grip on her hair. "You need to go. Please."
"No, I won't, they need to take care of you -"
"They will," he reassures her, his heart breaking at how anguished she sounds – she practically bled out on stone for the sake of him and he cannot take any more blood on his hands. He has taken and taken and taken as an alchemist and completely disregarded what it meant to be one for the state, regardless of how fraudulent the position truly was.
A state alchemist works for the behalf of the people.
What a load of bullshit.
"You need to be seen, Hawkeye," he continues, pushing a little on her shoulder with his injured hand as best he can manage, grimacing slightly. "That girl said the alchemy was only a temporary fix."
"Your hands – your eyes-"
He smiles ruefully. "I will be okay. The wounds were relatively clean."
"But-"
"Lieutenant..." He rakes his other hand through his hair, unable to hide the scowl as pain shoots through his palm. "I need you to do this, for me. You're no good to me injured." He raises his head to where he hopes the medic is standing. The sun hits his face fully, and it’s strange how he can feel its warmth but no longer the burn. He's fairly certain that the majority of the triage tents are near him, so it's not like he will be far from her anyway. This calms him a little, abruptly realising just how panicked he felt, blood rushing through his ears and his heart feeling like it's been lost in his stomach.
"Please take good care of her," he says and all of a sudden she is taken from him and he feels bereft, alone and very frightened of a world that is no longer tangible beyond the ground he feels under his boots.
It is a while before he can no longer hear her sobs, but every second he can is a cruel kind of torture. He focuses on his breathing: in, out, in, out. He blinks too, surprised at the tears that run down his cheeks. Part of him understands it is to be expected – the high from the adrenaline is quickly wearing off, and all he is left with is aching in his hands and in his eyes.
He counts the seconds and the minutes, tongue tapping a beat on the roof of his mouth. He whispers old war songs under his breath, old curses he heard in fragments on the sandy battlefield of Ishval. He whispers her name in same cadences of his awfully accented Ishvallan: an old prayer murmured over firesides and in cramped cots, shared in one breath and in none at all.
He is sure Ishvalla is not listening, never to a murderer who slaughtered His people with nary a thought: but he will take any deity listening right now – anything that is more benevolent than Truth.
The shouting and screams and shrieks around him never ends and eventually a soldier guides him into another tent, sitting him down on what feels like a better-constructed cot. Another one comes in and says something about medical attention being given to him shortly, but Roy doesn't hold his breath. His head feels cloudy now, the pain dulling in a way he's certain isn't conducive to healing but he will not make a fuss – so long as his men are tended to, he will get through. He refuses to let anybody else under his watch get hurt in the line of duty for the sake of him.
More seconds and minutes pass and the acrid smell of smoke still lingers in the air. There is a breeze – it escapes into his tent every so often and he's grateful for the reprieve from a stagnant air.
"Colonel!"
He wants to say he feels the vibrations of her heavy gait before he hears her, but in all honesty he jolts with shock as Catalina abruptly appears into his space, panting and loud and sudden.
"Lieutenant," he replies, coughing. "Please tell me you're not my medical assistance."
Catalina snorts. "Nah, I'm shit at first aid. I should probably take a course or something after this." Her voice is surprisingly chipper despite their circumstances. "I'm here to pass on news. I just saw Riza."
He stills, before lifting his head to where her voice is coming from. "What did the medics say?"
Catalina huffs. "They were trying to do surgery but I overheard the nurse say that it was beyond their capabilities here. She's been transferred to a hospital over in the Seven Oak district. I figured you'd wanna know – y’know, being her superior and all." Catalina’s voice is dripping with innuendo and Roy would like nothing more than to dress her down because they’re in the middle of serious situation but all he can find the energy to focus on is the well-being of his precious subordinate.
"What?" It's an answer he's not expecting and immediately worst-case scenarios are racing through his mind. "That girl - she fixed Riza in seconds, this should be no problem for a-"
"They wanted to play it safe I guess," Catalina interrupts, her tone far too casual for Roy’s liking. "In any case I'm sure you'll need to have further care once you get out of here..." She doesn't make any sound for a while and Roy assumes she is thinking. "How long have you been here?" she asks quickly, moving around him and opening what sounds like tin cases.
He laughs bitterly. "More than an hour at least. I'm alright. How is everyone at Radio Capital?"
"Right as rain," Catalina replies grabbing one of his hands and all of a sudden there's a burning sensation on his wounds as she roughly yanks the torn glove off his hand.
"Fucking hell Rebecca!"
She sniggers and he tries to pull his hand out of her grip but she's like iron. "Stop it," she admonishes, swabbing down the inside of his palm turning his hand over to wipe the exit wound a little more carefully this time. "It's not good to leave wounds like this – even I know this much."
"You're a bitch Catalina," he says grumpily and she laughs heartily, pressing gauze onto his wound and fixing it with what he assumes is surgical tape. She repeats the process with his other hand, much more carefully this time – less pressure, and at least fifty percent less antiseptic: the cotton swab she is using retains at least some of its softness amidst the searing pain that slips under his skin. Instead of a dull ache, his hands actively feel like they’re on fire and being frozen simultaneously and Roy doesn’t know whether to curse her or begrudgingly thank her.
"There!" she announces, shifting back from him. "I've saved some poor sod from having to spend more time with you than absolutely necessary."
"The great country of Amestris thanks you for your valuable service," he says dryly, pulling his hands back into his person. She swats him on the shoulder lightly.
"Stop being such a baby Mustang, you're going to be fine. I'm going to go yell at a nurse until someone comes to gives you proper medical attention. I'll make sure that they send you onto Seven Oaks as well. Can't separate the dynamic duo of East for too long – you'll just start another coup until you find her."
"Hilarious, Catalina," he replies shortly and she laughs loudly in response.
"I'm sure I'll see you later on anyway – give Riza a kiss for me when you see her – I got kicked out of surgery before I could manage to-"
"YOU DID WHAT???"
"BYE COLONEL!" She calls back loudly, and then he is left with the faint shouting in the background and stinging in his palms that he knows is good but by this point Roy is just exhausted and ready to sleep for a very long time.
Eventually medics make their way past his tent and apologise profusely for leaving him unattended but he doesn't care anymore. He asks after his men, asks to be sent to Seven Oak. He is sure the doctor and the nurse taking care of him are sharing looks but he doesn't care. He just wants this day to be over, and to be within touching distance of Riza once more.
#fma fanfiction#royai#roy mustang#riza hawkeye#rebecca catalina#fullmetal alchemist#fma#fmabb17#lmao turns out i was a bit of an idiot and i forgot to add my summary to the first chapter????#ana ur a dumbdumb
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It’s Not Over Till It’s Over: Sean Hayes Talks ‘Will & Grace’
Where would our queer world be without Will & Grace?
That’s where my head was just before Sean Hayes phoned, recalling my lonely teen years, when gay white men on TV alone — here’s to evolved representation! — was unprecedented and life-changing for people like 15-year-old, closeted me.
It’s not enough, then, to say Hayes, 48, portrays Jack McFarland on the NBC sitcom, because some roles become legend, upstaging even the actor giving him life. Jack is one such character.
And so, a call from Hayes is like being a kid and spotting your fifth-grade teacher at the grocery store: It doesn’t quite feel real. And yet Hayes is a real man with a real life and even a real husband, music producer Scott Icenogle. But to the late-’90s TV landscape, it was the actor’s half-fiction as Jack and his exploding-rainbow persona that cut through heteronormative programming with gay jokes even your grandma could get down with.
And then, there’s Karen.
You obviously don’t need me to needlessly ramble on about Jack’s socialite best friend (played by Megan Mullally), who never met a martini she didn’t like. You know her, you love her. And together they truly make all of our friends out to be absolute fucking bores. The sitcom’s recent revival reinstated #friendshipgoals when the snarky pals, along with titular housemates Will (Eric McCormack) and Grace (Debra Messing), came swishing back to NBC in September 2017 for a ninth season after ending its initial 1998–2006 run.
Hayes isn’t Jack, exactly. But you might be fooled if he called you, too. His usually-unflashy voice sometimes picks up wind and takes on the kind of rapid-fire cadence his famous Cher-worshiping alter ego is known for. With Season 10 premiering October 4 and Season 9 now available on DVD and digital, I caught up with Hayes to talk about those who’ve long criticized Jack for being “stereotypically” gay, the history of the legendary Karen-Jack slap fights, and who helped him be OK with being gay.
It’s hard to put into words exactly what it feels like to talk to the man who gave me such an iconic gay character when I needed it most.
Oh my god. That’s so sweet. I really appreciate that. And you just answered the reason why when people ask me what’s the best part about playing it — that’s the best part.
Is it?
One-hundred percent.
When did you first realize Will & Grace had impacted the LGBTQ community the way it has?
Just a couple of weeks ago! [Laughs.] No, I’m joking. You know what’s so funny — first of all, you have no idea how much that means to me, you saying how much I mean to you. It means equally as much to me, so thank you.
So when did I know I had an impact? I think when I was young and doing the show I was so wrapped up in myself, in acting, in getting the part: “Am I going to get fired? Am I gonna learn my lines?” I was just happy to have a job.
It’s such a fascinating thing to discuss, and I’m so glad you asked. I felt normal growing up, so when I got a job, playing a gay character on a television sitcom I just thought, “Oh, I just have to be me, kind of, a heightened version of myself.” I didn’t think it would have that much of an impact because of the bubble I grew up in. I surround myself with people who are accepting of me, so naively I was like, “The rest of the world must be OK with it.”
I mean, I knew the stories [about homophobia] out there. I grew up and knew [being gay] wasn’t accepted, but I just didn’t think on any big level it was any big deal. So, that gave me the confidence to play Jack as outrageously as I could because, again, I’m surrounded by writers and actors — everybody else — who embrace this, so I felt loved, I felt supported and I felt confidence. So, I wasn’t heading to work thinking about how this is going to affect anybody.
[That] was a wonderful byproduct later, and I was like, “Oh, ohh!” And once it started, and all the press and blah blah blah, and we never got any backlash for being political in that sense, meaning how they politicized gay people, which is wrong. That’s another interview.
WILL & GRACE — “The Wedding” Episode 110 – Pictured: (l-r) Eric McCormack as Will Truman, Debra Messing as Grace Adler, Sean Hayes as Jack McFarland — (Photo by: Chris Haston/NBC/NBCU Photo Bank)
Over the years, people have criticized Jack for being “flamboyant.” How aware were you of that concern when the show returned for its revival season?
Oh, I never heard that. This is the first time hearing it. So, you’re saying people were worried, but I was playing him — I call it “outrageous” because “flamboyant” means a certain type of gay person, I think, and that’s another conversation to have. I was playing him as outrageously as I was before. So, people were concerned that I was playing him a certain way?
People wondered if Jack was too stereotypical for TV in 2018 and expressed some concern over what the straight community might think of us.
I think that’s [internalized] homophobia. Because I know people like Jack, because one part of me is like Jack, and so if you’re saying people in the gay community were concerned that I was playing Jack a certain way and people would “worry” that gay people act like that, they do act like that. And there’s people who act like Will. There are people on all spectrums of human behavior in the gay community, just like there are people on all spectrums of human behavior in the straight community, so I nix that, and I say “bye” to that — I say, “Bye, Felicia!” — because that doesn’t make any sense to me.
Similarly, the character of Cam on Modern Family was criticized for being an over-the-top and exaggerated version of what a gay person is. And I’m like, what exactly is a gay person supposed to be in 1998 or 2018?
Yeah, exactly. What are they supposed to be? And by the way, they are exaggerated, some of them. And so are straight people. Look at Jim Carrey, look at Robin Williams. There are lots of straight people who are exaggerated as well. I hate that argument — no, I’m glad you brought it up. I’m just saying I love talking about it, because it’s ridiculous.
As a kid coming to terms with being gay, who was your person?
If you’re talking about a famous person, Andy Bell [of Erasure]. Because I was in college and I was 17, 18, and I was shocked that somebody was out and proud, making a living in the arts or in pop culture by being who they are and not apologizing for it. I thought that was mind-blowing. “A Little Respect” was the No. 1 song on the radio, and I was like, “Wait, the guy is gay, and everybody is OK with that?”
The truth is, not a lot of people knew [Bell was gay] because we didn’t have the internet. But I knew, and all my gay friends knew. And I was like, “That’s amazing.” So that was inspiring to me, that you could be gay and make a living by singing, acting, whatever.
What has it been like to be a part of a show that has existed during two very different times, culturally and politically, for the LGBTQ community?
First, I feel very fortunate and lucky to be part of the chorus of the movement. I may not be a single voice, but I’m enjoying being a part of the chorus. And I think we’re lucky to have the voice and the representation for people to talk about it again, because I don’t think it should ever stop being talked about because everything is not OK. There are still gay kids being bullied. Look at that [gay] couple [that was assaulted] in Florida in the bathroom during [Miami Beach Gay] Pride. It just doesn’t end. The hate doesn’t end overnight.
So, we have to keep doing things, and again, my contribution may not be as an activist, because I just don’t feel comfortable doing that, it’s not who I am. It’s not in my blood, it’s not in my DNA to stand at a podium and speak in sound bites about how we need to prevail over the government and the system. I leave that to people who are good at it — I’m not good at it.
What I’m good at is being comfortable in my own skin and showing people that I have a husband, and we make stupid Facebook videos and try to show people that we’re as normal as any other human. I try to do my best at that.
So, I’m happy the show is back because there’s still tons of work to do. The power of comedy is so incredible; that’s why we broke so many boundaries the first time. And hopefully we can continue to do that.
Megan Mullally has said that you’re her “second husband,” after her real husband, Nick Offerman. How does your chemistry with Megan after all these years compare to the first time that you stepped onto set and shot the pilot?
It’s so funny that she calls me her second husband because Nick and I were born on the exact same day, same year, about 30 miles apart. Isn’t that hilarious?
But it’s like working with your sister. There’s a shorthand that nobody else would understand. So, it’s like, “I’m gonna do this,” and she’s like, “I’m gonna do that,” and then we just do it together. And there it is. So, we now know how to cut through all the stuff that you need to [cut through] to get to a comedic moment in a scene. And that’s what’s great about all this time that’s passed: I understand her, she understands me, we understand each other, so the chemistry has only gotten hotter.
Tell me the history of the slap fights between Karen and Jack.
There’s an episode called “Coffee and Commitment,” where Jack is trying to get off of coffee and Karen’s trying to quit alcohol. That was the first time we slapped each other. On paper, it was just, “Karen slaps Jack, Jack slaps Karen.” But of course, [Will & Grace Director] Jimmy Burrows, who is incredible at physical comedy, said, “Let’s make a dance out of this.”
So, we rehearsed the rhythm of it. I think that’s what makes you laugh — that’s what makes me laugh: the pauses and then the slapping again and then the pause and the slap-slap. It’s music, so you have to rehearse the beats and the rhythms in order to get that. [Laughs.] It makes me laugh even thinking about it.
What do you envision for Jack’s future?
Well, I don’t want him to change too much because our friends are our friends from high school because they never change, right? Maybe get married, but still remain Jack somehow, or find a long-term relationship. Or maybe — maybe! — there’s someone close in his own life that might be a suitable partner for life. Who knows?
Will?
I have no idea.
Could you see them together?
Could I see Will and Jack together? Maybe!
You’ve said you want to see him with Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Just so you know, I’m here for it.
I think that would be a hilarious episode, and I hope Dwayne comes to his senses and comes to the Will & Grace [set] to play and have a good time.
from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/07/12/its-not-over-till-its-over-sean-hayes-talks-will-grace/
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Thoughts on The Last Jedi
Overall: I loved it, but I can very much understand why people won’t. It’s a smorgasbord of plots and characters that doesn’t linger long enough with any of them and completely shatters the cadence of the other trilogies. That being said, it gave a hint as to a different message than we’ve previously felt in the Star Wars movies. One that I find refreshing and intriguing if they have the guts to really thoroughly explore it.
The movie can be divided into three sections. We have the Resistance plot, which focuses mostly on Poe Dameron and Leia. Then the Caper plot, which is Finn and newcomer Rose - easily the most extraneous of the plots and a big part of why I think people will not like this film. Lastly is the Jedi/Force plot, the major one that deals with Luke, Rey, and Kylo Ren.
Rebellion Plot:
The plot device used here - the slow chase to inexorable death via depleted fuel - always has the potential to cast a feeling of dread and defeat. There’s nothing they can do to get more fuel, and if they are caught, they will die. This is used effectively, and is devastating. It’s hard to watch the resistance get beaten and beaten and crushed by inevitability. It was also a good device to use, since it was so slow, versus the quick pace of the battle scenes and the Caper plot.
Poe Dameron was the star of this plotline. We get to see him really shine here, under tutelage from Leia, while still being his own infuriating person. He seems a mix of the Han Solo and Leia archetypes. He’s brash and reactive, but he’s also calculating and deeply loyal. I don’t think he can ever be the diplomat Leia is, but he can certainly get close. For all that they didn’t give him in TFA, Oscar Isaac kills it. He’s cocky, but not destructive. Yes, his first instinct is to blow things up, but he learns several times that sometimes he has to find a different way, that he has to rely on other peoples’ knowledge, especially those more experienced than him. I like that he fucked up a few times, because it takes time for people to learn from their mistakes. Don’t even get me started on his relationship with BB-8, which is adorable, nor his constant admiration for Finn, which should make Stormpilot fans happy.
Really, it’s his interactions with Leia that show his true self. He argues with her, but defers to her when necessary. It’s obvious that Leia has sort of replaced Ben with Poe, mothering in the only way she knows how.
I loved that they had Holdo use the lightspeed to shatter a ship. It’s one of those pet theories that you wanna see, but rarely do. The sacrifice was good - a character we could respect, but nothing too devastating.
The two major battles - space battle at the beginning and red-dirt battle at the end - were well done, typical fancy action shit. I absolutely loved the visual of the white salt being shifted to reveal the red dirt. It was gorgeous and seemed more cinematic than usual. The first battle had the first showing of the humor that would be used in the film, and what I very much dislike. It’s the very meta obvious humor, and while it makes people laugh, it starts to feel inappropriate and too easy. I’m not quite sure how to articulate it. I like my humor to be more subtle, and probably why it rubs me the wrong way.
Leia was underused, but I loved that she used her Force powers. The situation was weird, but damnit if I don’t want Leia to use all the Skywalker powerful shit, just like her brother. It’s always bittersweet with Leia, that Han is gone, her son is gone, and now Luke is gone. She’s all that is left, and she endures. I’m so sad about Carrie Fisher passing, It looked as though she was really enjoying this film.
Caper plot:
Finn and mechanic Rose head to a casino planet to find a hacker to get them into the ship that’s tracking the rebel fleet. Yeah, it sounds convoluted because it is. Fortunately, Finn and Rose are so damn adorable and charismatic that I loved it anyway. Rose in particular came with a strong sense of self and devotion to the rebellion.
The film fails poor Finn. He has no character development and gets a lot of action, but it invariably is pointless. John Boyega is so wonderful, I hope the third film utilizes him appropriately.
Benicio del Toro was more tragically underused than Boyega. His hacker character doesn’t even get a name, has a cute humanizing moment, and then sells out Finn and Rose for a hot dog. Like, what was the point of having such a big actor play him. Maybe we’ll see more in Episode IX, but it was so weird having him do nothing in this one.
I’d like to reiterate this idea for Captain Phasma and the tragedy that is not using Gwendoline Christie. She’s awesome, and has shown to be a versatile actor, and we see her for about ten minutes and three lines. She ‘dies’ but I think they might bring her back for Ep. IX. There was no build up, no backstory or explanation. They have to do something.
Jedi/Force plot:
The meat of the movie. It’s the best part of the whole thing.
We see Luke downtrodden and beaten. He’s failed his sister, his friend, and his nephew. He didn’t train Ben properly, and ended up losing him to the Dark Side. And so Luke has made himself a crotchety hermit that won’t train anyone else. But there’s still that guy inside who brought balance to the Force. The Luke that saved his father, that turned down the Dark Side over and over. Mark Hamill does some of the best acting of his life in this film, giving us so much despair and so much hope. I also feel that Hamill’s career as a villainous voice actor influenced his portrayal of Luke, giving him just a hint of darkness that he didn’t feel like the Golden Child of the original trilogy anymore. I think he came to peace in this film, especially when he accepted that the way he was thinking of the Jedi - as these pristine providers of truth and justice and without flaw - wasn’t a way that could be sustained. And really, that whole ideology started with Luke, when he saw that Darth Vader - the baddest bitch of all - could still have light in him.
Rey was delightful. I do think her training was perfunctory and probably will lead to disaster, her vulnerability with what she saw through the Force and how she connects to it makes her a new sort of Jedi. She isn’t the black and white good or bad Jedi from before, which I think is necessary to the survival of the Jedi. A lot of folk have made talk about her being a Gray Jedi, which I think will happen if not in name, because I think it’s the only way the Jedi can proceed. What they’ve been doing obviously hasn’t been working.
Her Force bond scenes with Kylo Ren - Ben Solo - are amazing. Their connection was heartbreaking and soft and tender and naked in its emotions. I can’t even describe how lovely it was. They were like small children sharing secrets, exposing their deepest parts to each other. You see Kylo actually be a person rather than this whiny bitch, and the scene where they touch hands is one of the most sensual things that has ever happened on screen. A lot of people (especially Reylo shippers, hi) see a sexual component to their Force bond visions, but for me, it was just intimate. It was intimate in a way that was difficult to watch at times. It was a raw emotionality that doesn’t often appear in Star Wars films, and I believe never to this degree. That’s what I believe will resonate the most with people.
That, and the battle scene before Snoke, of course. I wasn’t happy with how quickly and abruptly they killed off Snoke. We didn’t learn a thing about him! But in some ways, I‘m glad he was disposed of so early, so that we can move on from Kylo having a dark manipulative master. And the way they did it was wonderful.
Kylo Ren gets A+ treatment in this movie. You can see the conflict in him, and how determined he is to be the antagonist, and how much he hates and how much he longs for his family. Early on, he has a chance to destroy the ship that Leia’s on, but he feels her. And he doesn’t shoot. He seems like a stunted little boy who was betrayed by everyone he loved and now he’s tearing them apart in the way Snoke taught him. He calls himself a monster, and only people who are in deep pain will do something like that. Monsters never think of themselves as such.
Kylo had moments of his usual short temper, throwing fits, being melodramatic crap. And it will always be hilarious about how the peons of the First Order seem to be completely used to him destroying random shit and they just carry on as usual. But I do feel like we saw the pale underbelly of our villain. He’s not cut-out for it, really. His redemption arc in Ep IX is going to be painful and glorious and it will happen.
The thing I liked most about this film, however, isn’t really any specific scene or character. It’s this idea Kylo Ren has, that he has to kill the past. Obviously, he takes it to a literal sense, but I think the motive behind it is intriguing.
After all, here we are again. Rebels vs empire. Separatists vs the Republic. Resistance vs First Order. Have we learned any lesson? Will this keep happening, over and over. Revolution, new government, oppression, revolution, etc. Nothing really gets better. At the end of the film, the entire Resistance fits inside the Millennium Falcon. Like, 30 people maybe. That’s not nearly enough red shirts to last a whole movie.
But there’s hope. We have Poe Dameron, who is in Leia’s position, but not quite like her. We have Finn, someone who broke out of the stormtrooper faceless mold. We have Rey, someone who rejects the Jedi teachings in a way that doesn’t embrace the Dark Side, but rather recognizes that the two sides will always be there, always need balancing. And we have Kylo Ren, this arrogant, whiny, tantrum-throwing abuse survivor, who’s been gaslighted and groomed for who knows how long. He’s not another villain who’s evil for kicks. What do we do with all these people who don’t fit in the Star Wars hero/villain templates?
The old way of doings things hasn’t worked. It’s made monsters and terrible people and killed countless. It never stops, it never truly gets better. That’s particularly emphasized - perhaps unintentionally - on the casino planet.
Finn and Rose have a sort of rollicking adventure, evading the police and getting into/out of trouble. del Toro’s character rather ham-fistedly states that the weapons dealers give to both the First Order and the Resistance (yeah, ok, what unionized friendly weapon-supplier are they supposed to use??), that there’s problems on both sides. However, I think the more poignant moment is when we see the kids being used as slaves, basically. They are tiny and live in the stables and obviously orphaned or sold to take care of the horse-creatures. Even Rose talks about how the children of her planet were used, destroyed by these money-hungry warmongers. The Empire rose, the Empire fell, the Republic rose, the Republic fell, and these poor people stayed in the same place. They are still downtrodden, impoverished, enslaved, used.
The old way doesn’t work. We have to try something new.
I really hope they embrace this idea in Ep IX. It excited me in a way that a lot of media has failed to do. I would love to see the talent behind Star Wars embrace a complete paradigm shift.
--- an aside. I absolutely adored that Rey’s parents were worthless junkers who sold her for drinking money. Really, truly, I feel like that’s in the spirit of what the filmmakers were trying to say. However, we do get this information from Kylo Ren, who isn’t the most reliable of sources, and may have been manipulated by Snoke (what’s new). I would much rather this be the truth.
But. During all their Force Skype scenes, Rey and Kylo felt very much like children bonding. Their interactions had an air of innocence to them. This was juxtaposed with Luke and Leia having their own Force-provided conversations and insights in a parallel that I’m still not sure was intentional. In fact, when Kylo is telling Rey that she knows who her parents are, that she’s always known, I straight-up thought she would say that Leia and Han are her parents. That her and Kylo are twins (are they the same age??? maybe siblings). It felt like a natural lead up, and I wouldn’t have been surprised. Was this just me? Am I the weirdo now?
Oh well.
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