#i do not understand how so many are blind in the face of this genocide | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fordtato · 7 months

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From a Palestinian - I know this is long but read it anyways:

If any leftists on this fucking site are using antisemitism to further the Free Palestine movement, you're not fucking helping. Not just because there are Jewish Palestinians. Not just because it furthers the idea that the movement is rooted in antisemitism. And not just because the people who are ultimately going to be impacted by this "activism" are Palestinian families (like my own), who will be on the receiving end of the brunt of government retaliation. It simply isn't helpful and isn't right.

Gaza is an open-air prison, cut off from food and water and medicine and fuel. Even before this recent chapter of the conflict, its people are penned in and brutalized and kidnapped and imprisoned and murdered, without any true relief, and very often without mainstream attention. This is being carried out by the government of Israel (with US government support) and its military, and it is aimed at the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians, a people without any formal military or power. Palestinians in the country are being slaughtered, and Palestinians outside of the country are slowing losing their connection to their identity and homeland and need to watch as their brethren are unilaterally labeled as terrorists and "animals" and killed, raped and buried in rubble.

As a movement we need to acknowledge that Hamas is an antisemitic force. There is no justifying it or going around it. Internet leftists, you're so good at nitpicking at the past comments of online allies and finding the problematic thing someone said on twitter in 2018 and then never defending them again no matter what. But we can't do the same here with Hamas when leaders in the party are antisemitic and when people are dead? We need to defend Jewish people and that doesn't stop here. And nobody dare try to explain to me that this is what a revolution looks like. Those killed weren't all IDF soldiers. And don't explain to me that even colonization and occupation is violence (especially if you live in the US, a colonized nation stolen from indigenous people), because of course I understand that. Palestine has a right to defend itself against violence, but Hamas is explicitly antisemitic and we can't just stand against the ruthless killing of civilians only when it's Palestinian civilians.

Yes, it's complicated. YES this violence and the power vacuums that allow groups like Hamas to take power are very often the response to brutality, and a long-term symptom in the aftermath of European imperialism. We can acknowledge that and understand that and even be sympathetic to the historical context that allows this to unfold while still condemning the death of civilians. After all, being against the death of civilians is at the core of the Free Palestine movement.

Defending Jewish people does NOT mean dismissing the slaughter and literal genocide of Palestinians in Gaza. Defending Jewish people does not mean defending the actions of the Israeli government. And standing with Palestine and freeing it from brutality does NOT mean ignoring that antisemitism is fraught in the world to this day. One part of why Israel is able to garner civilian support despite the atrocities of its government is because not many other countries are taking in refugees of antisemitism, and historically most countries have never protected Jewish people EVER. That is something we need to acknowledge. And acknowledging that does not mean we justify the actions of the government of Israel, and it does not mean we are turning a blind eye to the occupation or the slaughter and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian civilians.

BTW, tone-policing Palestinians about how they talk about Israel while we are in mourning, and collectively witnessing the brutality our loved ones are facing, and literally watching our homeland get destroyed IS HORRIBLE. IT IS UNHELPFUL. IT IS INSENSITIVE AND TONE DEAF. Do not bring up Hamas in my fucking inbox, MY PEOPLE ARE BEING SLAUGHTERED AND LIKENED TO ANIMALS AND I AM FORCED TO WATCH.

The same applies to tone-policing Jewish people when they are getting death threats at synagogues and JCCs and/or are mourning loved ones in Israel. Yelling "but what about Palestine" whenever a Jewish person in America (who has literally nothing to do with the heinous acts of a foreign government entity) mentions they are grieving or afraid or getting death threats doesn't fucking do anything. This isn't activism.

We are all tired. We are all traumatized. We will feel this for generations.

#israel #palestine #free gaza #gaza #Anyways keep antisemitic conspiracy theories and racism out of the fucking replies

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bandiera--rossa · 6 months

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While reading the works of the medieval Arab sociologist Ibn Khaldun many years ago, I was surprised by his ideas on geography and climate, which attribute not only physical but also sociological patterns for people living in the same climatic region. In short, these ideas suggest that if someone from the extreme Northern Hemisphere moved to the extreme Southern Hemisphere, their surviving descendants would eventually have the same physical and sociological attributes as the people of the Southern Hemisphere. I was fascinated by this concept and at a loss of how anyone in this world could be a racist, knowing they could have mutated into anyone else.

Holding onto this notion and adding to it years of soul-searching, which for being born a Muslim led me to delve into Sufism, I developed the firm belief that all humans are essentially one and that all evil in the world is the result of our division. I was convinced the principal reason people in the Global North condone their armies murdering innocent civilians or the dying of children from hunger in faraway nations is that they are unable to perceive the victims as similar to them and are accordingly unable to empathize with them and feel their pain. If they did, I told myself, most evil in the world would disappear.

That is why I believe that the main objective of the arts should be to humanize those we perceive as different. Being an aspiring novelist myself, I decided that unity and the oneness of being would be the principal theme of all my work.

I can no longer adopt such beliefs and will no longer vouch for those ideas.

It is clear to me now that calling for love and unity does not fall on the oppressed but on the privileged. In the face of the hate or apathy of those who do not feel their suffering or regard them as equal, the persecuted have no choice but to embrace whatever they are persecuted for, ethnic, religious, or else, and accept the division. To vouch for love and unity is a privilege only people in the Global North can now afford. For the rest of us, it is nothing short of weakness and humiliation.

Like most people in the Global South, I am watching with horror the ongoing genocide being perpetrated by Israel in Gaza and the blind, astonishing backing of the majority of governments and mainstream media outlets in the United States and Europe. Like most people in the Global South, I am opening my eyes to the hypocrisy, racism, and ugly confirmation that our lives and deaths are still not valued or regarded as equal. Like most people in the Global South, I am outraged at the narrative of condemning Hamas solely for the attack on October 7, the impudence of acting as if it were unprovoked, and the moral failure to view it in the context of 75 years of dehumanization, colonialism, ethnic cleansing, land theft, violence, torture, and rape at the hands of Israel.

We, who suffered from colonialism, understand that the only party to blame is Israel, the occupying power, simply because if there had been no occupation, there would have been no Hamas. We, who suffered from colonialism, understand that the Hamas combatants who attacked Israel on October 7 did not choose to be resistance fighters and would have had normal lives if they had not been subjected to occupation and living for almost two decades in a concentration camp where more than half of the population were struggling to afford food just before October 7. We, who suffered from colonialism, are well aware of this narrative of blaming the victims and the failure to apply the same moral principles to us.

So, for the people of conscience in the Global North who are standing with the Palestinians in any way they can, for those marching, writing, and speaking up, thank you for giving us hope in humanity in our darkest hour and not allowing us to turn into complete monsters as our enemies want us to.

And for the other ones, for those who are running this horror show in Gaza or facilitating it, for those who are murdering and collectively punishing the innocent men and women and the children of the earth, for those who know there are children trapped in darkness under the rubble of bombed buildings, who are dying of thirst and hunger and are still against a ceasefire, for those who have revealed the wickedness of their hearts and the darkness of their souls, know that we now see you for who you are. The masks have fallen, and millions of us are opening up our eyes to the realization of how much you hate and dehumanize us. Millions of us are radicalized and ready to adopt the ideas and narratives of any group, only if it will fight or oppose you. Whatever doctrine there is — Islamist, Communist, or Nihilist — millions of us are ready to espouse it only if it will take a stand against you.

Palestine now divides us.

We have hate in our hearts, and I promise you that it will remain. And I promise you we will live like this and die like this and pass on our rage and our pain. And we will remain prisoners of our hate, and you will remain prisoners of your crimes and fears, and the violence will go on, and none of us will be free, until there is fairness and until there is justice, and until Palestine is free.

Mohamed Seif El Nasr - an Egyptian writer with an academic background in history and international law.

#Palestine #genocide in gaza #genocide in palestine #colonialism #Mohamed Seif El Nasr

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capricorn-0mnikorn · 1 month

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Extended excerpt:

LEILA FADEL, HOST:

The sharp divisions over Israel's war in Gaza are also on full display inside Israeli politics. Far-left-wing lawmaker Ofer Cassif survived an effort last month to expel him from Israel's legislature, the Knesset, after he voiced support for South Africa's genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice. Netanyahu's allies accused Cassif of supporting terrorism. Cassif told our colleague, Michel Martin, he believes the war is a pretext for Netanyahu to seize even more power.

OFER CASSIF: Everybody knows that the government tried to pursue a coup d'etat under the sugarcoated term of judicial reform, in order to turn Israel into a full-fledged dictatorship. So now they are doing the same but under the smokescreen of the war in Gaza. And my persecution and my colleagues' persecution and attempts to silence us is not only of members of the Parliament. But the citizens at large, especially Arab citizens in Israel, have been persecuted intensely since 7th of October. People have been fired from their workplaces and suspended from their university studies solely for expressing grief and sympathy for the innocent civilians in Gaza.

MICHEL MARTIN, HOST:

What was your reaction when you saw this move to impeach you? How did you feel about that?

CASSIF: Believe it or not, I was not that worried about myself. I had life before the Knesset, and I guess that I live life after the Knesset if I'm not assassinated before.

MARTIN: Do you honestly feel that there may be an attempt on your life as a consequence of your positions?

CASSIF: Absolutely. It's very clear Israeli society, under the continuous incitement of Netanyahu and his bigots, Israeli society is not only polarized and enclaved, but even families of the hostages are under violent attack. The violence level in Israel, political violence and violence in general, but the violence - the political violence in Israel is on the rise.

[. . . . .]

CASSIF: There's no military solution. The fanatic Palestinians and the fanatic Israelis must understand there is no military solution to this situation, only a political one. And it was like that 75 years ago, 57 years ago when the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip and East Jerusalem began, and now. So no military option at all. The main factor that allows or enable this terrible carnage and bloodshed to continue is the administration of United States.

MARTIN: What role would you like to see the United States play, given everything that has happened so far, given where we are now?

CASSIF: When the United States continuously - and it doesn't matter which administration is in power, Democrats or Republicans. It's been going on like this for too many years that there is a blind support not for the people of Israel - I want to emphasize that - for the government of Israel. Those are not the same. If the United States wants really to assist and to stand with the people of Israel, like I do, they should do everything possible against the government of Israel. This specific government who supports Jewish supremacy and racial theory, literally and explicitly, once they support them, it is as if they supported David Duke. If the Biden administration and the people of America really want to help both the Israeli people and the Palestinian people, they must force the government of Israel to end it.

[End Excerpt]

(For those who don't know who David Duke is, and why that comparison is so devastating, here's a profile of him from The Southern Poverty Law Center)

#Israel #Leftist voices from inside Israel #Political violence #netenyahu #Ofar Cassif #Israeli citizens =/= Israeli government #NPR Mideast coverage

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katybearr · 6 months

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🇵🇸

May the people of Palestine be free of this terror they have to face everyday. May they find joy, laughter, and a form of peace. May the children go to school, families will thrive and Palestine will live in a nation that is free from terror and oppression. Where no person nor child will have to fear the sound of a plane, or worry if they will make it till tomorrow. No parent will have to find their child in the rubble caused by the Israeli oppressors. Where they are seen as people and not as “human animals”.

I pray that Allah(God) will protect them, and give them the peace and freedom they deserve. I pray that our world leaders will finally open their eyes to what is happening, and see that it is a genocide they are funding/defending. That they call for a cease fire, so aid can enter to help the Palestinian people. I will continue to use my voice for the voiceless and fight for what I believe is right. Because my voice is my best weapon I have. Especially as a Westerner. It breaks my heart to watch everyone turn a blind eye and pretend that nothing is happening. It feels like I can’t speak when I have so much to say. All i want to ask, is do you fully understand what is happening? Do you understand that innocent civilians are being injured and killed by the minute? How can you just sit there and go about your day to day life when so many people are in a living nightmare? It just hurts to sit here and watch so many suffer. And it’s not just the people I am mourning, it’s the animals as well. No one deserves this. And it’s so disheartening that all of this is happening because of greed (as well as the things hamas has done), but Hamas wouldn’t have to do the things they have done if Israel would just leave them alone. If they wanted to free the hostages, they should send in special forces to get these hostages. But they are not, they are deliberately attacking hospitals, refugee camps, schools, places of worship, etc. Where they know that so many civilians will be. How can they sleep at night knowing what they are doing to these civilians? It hurts and it’s sad to have to watch this through a screen on tik tok for crying out loud! It’s sickening that we are rewatching history happen and not doing the proper terms to stop this madness. And people are condoning the madness the Israeli occupation are doing. When it’s straight up genocide at this point. All i ask is that we can help these people, and for them to find peace. May god continue to protect them and watch over them.

One of the many things I admire from the Palestinian people, is their faith. It amazes me that they are going through a living hell, but are able to keep their faith in Allah. They believe that their life is not over even if they meet death. It’s so inspiring to watch these people suffer but are still able to keep their faith and pray. When I know that if I was in their position, I would be angry and upset that the person I am worshiping is letting this happen and not putting a stop to this. But the fact that they are not is astounding. And it’s something I will take with me and use in my day to day life. I will continue to have faith, but I will also continue to pray for these people. To end their suffering. I pray that they will be able to get drinking water, food, medical supplies, and all of the other basic necessities that Israel is refusing them. And I pray that the oppressors will get the karma that is coming for them, for doing this to a community.

May Palestine be free from the river to the sea 🕊️

#palestine #ceasefire #language #writings #political activist #human rights #free palestine

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miitopias · 6 months

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I can no longer adopt such beliefs and will no longer vouch for those ideas.

Palestine now divides us.

- Mohamed Seif El Nasr

#palestine #gaza #israel

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unohanabbygirl · 8 months

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You know, I imagine that currently the relationship between Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys is an example of what siblings should be.

The number of images with motivating phrases and others such as: "They are the example of what one is willing to do for his brother" "If Prince Lucerys was capable of mutilating someone to save his brother, what would I not be willing to do for you".

On one hand it's great, because most see that accident as an act of love, but on the other hand, how does Aemond feel about it? The fact that a large part of the population takes an act that traumatized them as something positive. There are even paintings by way of representation that are accompanied by a description "The courage and love that one is willing to show for his family" Aemond thinks something about how everyone seems to forget that it was traumatic for someone, but since it's him, don't even take it into consideration.

To put it simply, it feels like a slap in the face. However it all just manages to make Aemond sad rather than enraged.

Many relationships are romanticized and idealized by people in the modern world without taking into account that the trauma these people experienced and the sacrifices they were forced to make were very much real. Luke doing what he needed to do to protect his brother is seen as the absolute pinnacle of siblings protecting each other and most think it’s cool how someone so young had the guts to do something so ‘courageous.’

I mean, who wouldn’t look at the depictions of a six year old Luke with a bloody nose pointing a dagger at his uncle and think “damn, that kids tough.” But people don’t often think about how this affected Luke, Jace and basically everyone else who was involved mentally. Especially Aemond.

Because Aemond committed such horrible acts later on in life, no one takes the time to stop and ask how being blinded affect him mentally and emotionally in the long run. He was scarred for life, forced to relearn practically everything, given harsh stares due to being disabled and to make matters worse, wasn’t even extended a simple “i’m sorry” from Luke OR his own sister.

(Which yea, she was supposed to do everything in her power to make sure the accusations of bastardy didn’t hurt her kids. But once Viserys finally put his foot down and the Velaryon boys were in the safe she should’ve at least said “sorry about that lil bro. Luke will wash your dirty hair ties for a week” or something)

It was horrible for Aemond, but because he did all that fucked up shit no one gives a damn. On one hand he understands why no one would be caught dead saying “aww, poor [insert genocidal maniac]” but on the other, he just a kid when the incident took place.

Aemond feels he’s deserving of at least one person acknowledging how horrible that night was for him. Not the killer he became but the little boy he was.

#asks

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heavilypregnantdatasoong · 6 months

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Like whats happening in palestine is the first and last thing i think about every day and if you'd seen some of last weeks videos from journalists in Gaza like @motaz_azaiza on instagram of dead childrens rotting bodies lined up, or the looks on parents faces while theyre trying to dig through the rubble where their family have just been buried, like. I just don't know how you can turn a blind eye, like. Morally. I'm not shaming people here for not being ABLE to do much about it because I am mentally ill!!! I fucking understand!!! But dont use mental health as an excuse for ignoring genocide when that is actually the privilege talking. I'm not even saying you cant so much as think about anything else, but like. its the absolute nothing. Either silence or bare minimum token gestures. Its such a lack of solidarity I'm seeing from some people that really worries me. For so many white people, being 'leftist' is all lip service and feel good virtue signalling until it actually comes to sitting with uncomfortable feelings or handling something difficult.

#im mentally ill i am habitually disengaged and apathetic with life in general but u need to understand the importance of not staying quiet

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0aurelion-sol0 · 4 years

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SNK keeps on being amazing. ( A rant that is not really one. )

133.

Just this panel alone is able to confirm everything that I wanted from this manga.

Eren's condition has always been what I suspected.

Ever since he sided with his brother Zeke, who manipulated Marley in attacking Eldia to retrieve the founder and other titans. Something THEY DIDN'T WANT TO DO, because they were being pressured by many other countries and were not as powerful as before due to their lack of powerful weapons like the ones in the Middle Eastern Alliance which were able to PIERCE through the fucking Armored Titan.

THIS resulted in the fucking festival and we know what happened then. Dozens of people died including children continuing the cycle of hate that has been started for god knows how long. And Eren WILLINGLY took a part in it because he wanted his actions to be a little easier while he was going to genocide the whole fucking world.

INCLUDING his own island because let's be honest when Eren is done with the Rumbling, destroying every ecosystems. EVERYTHING that keeps a planet alive, his little island won't live for long.

"The ground... It's crying." CHAPTER 131 said by one of the goddamn kids he fucking killed.

Marley is now sure, let's fucking kill all Eldians.

He did his attack on Liberio, he betrayed everyone. Crushing Hange's every possibilities of finding a peaceful way of settling things down after having been hidden MANY useful informations by Eren, Zeke and his group but also the Azumabitos.

Sparking a civil war inside Eldia, leading to an Eldian supremacist group cause let's be honest when Floch killed that Marleyan and than gave his little first king Fritz speech, it was like seeing Hitler all over again and the Klux Klux Klan.

I MEAN... FLOCH OF ALL PEOPLE! A guy who has PTSD after seing dozens of his comrades died, their faces exploded by fucking thrown rocks. He bastardized Erwin's ideologies and no matter how good willing he was, he was just a dead man walking acting like a fool.

He also betrays his own party now, the Jeagerist by allowing the very people they tried to stop the power to stop him. By activating the Rumbling, he also caused the death of Eldians inside the walls as we've been shown with Hitch.

AND THE WORST... destroy every connection he has with his friends. Hurting them, putting them in danger by the very group he created and the Titans.

Oh but that's not all...

He uses the titan the same way Marley did it, with oppression and violence. He is not stopping the cycle of hate, he is continuing it. And it will have repercussions inside the very group of people he tried to defend.

People killed each other inside the walls and they will kill each other without it. Mikasa as shown us that when her parents got murdered and she almost became a slave.

And he killed Hange with these same titans. I don't care if they sacrificed themself. He didn't live up to what he preached. They died and Hange was someone close to him and was concerned with his well being. Maybe it was too late but they also had many other priorities as Hange was commander. They also fell into depression because of their position. One of his mentors and friends, one who tried to talk with him while he was in that cell planning to destroy the world...

talking to himself...

At this point, you know where I'm going with this. We've all suspected it, we all know it. Let's not be blind about it.

Eren is influenced by the Attack Titan. Not Ymir (at least I hope so and I think so), not Kruger and certainly not Grisha.

It's pretty clear now.

I mean Eren's change happens off screen, every time we see him he is completely different from what we used to know of him.

He barely cares about his friend and don't give me the bullcrap of (hE dOeS tHiS fOr tHeM.) If he was he would have secured them and put them in a place where they wouldn't interfere, he would have tried to convince them. HE WOULD HAVE COMMANDED FLOCH NOT TO HURT THEM.

He would have not commited genocide after knowing what it led to with Reiner, Annie and Bertholt.

That's not Eren. And the stupid argument of "hE's aLwAyS bEeN vIoLeNt". That's just bullcrap and it just destroy every bit of beautiful empathy we have seen of him. With Mikasa, Armin and Historia. Levi who he respected a lot.

It just isn't coherent. Every action he does is not coherent since the timeskip.

NOW HE'S CHALLENGING HIS FRIEND ? WTF ?

I mean is no one questionning this, doesn't it seem off from what we've seen of him.

Eren is no strategist BUT... he isn't stupid. Every sane person would know that these actions will not benefit anybody.

But... they still happened.

If we look back again, here is Eren being positive trying to put Armin in a good mood.

The outside world... endless possibilities. It's a man who wonders.

Yet, AT THE RIGHT MOMENT... he has a flashback of Faye. And his face just change.

Isn't it just weird ? Like at the right moment where he can have a positive outlook on thing. NOPE.

And this has been going and going and going...

Here:

Chapter 130.

Eren arrives in Liberio what does he see.

A flashback of his mother's death

I mean it's pretty clear now.

_________________________________________

Eren has been influenced and convinced by the Attack Titan that there's no way out. He's been reliving past memories of his and others, past memories that were traumatic. It put him in a state of depression and dread through 5 FUCKING YEARS. On top of that, he is able to see the future and what he saw will happen and has happened hence his reaction to Sasha's death.

A fucking mental breakdown.

Jesus Christ, I don't know if I've ever cursed that much in my life.

It's impossible to stop what is going to happen, because what is going to happen, needs to happen.

But as we know Sasha is in the afterlife with Erwin, Hange and the others. And we have been confirmed that this is the afterlife. So we have time-travelling, afterlife, 13 years curse, people who can turn into titans, parallel dimensions and Eren who can see through birds.

But the fandom said, no, the prospect of him being manipulated by the Attack Titan is impossible even after knowing it has special abilities.

I MEAN...

Umm... This has happened before. And I saw no one complain.

So why this ?

Is impossible ?

Especially when Eren's whole arc is about questionning his perspective of the world and becoming in control of his violence and rage. Having an agency. HELLOOOO!!!????

What better way of having the main threat of that being the very thing that causes all of his problems and his powers.

Doesn't this remind anyone of anything ?

Yep. The Uprising Arc. And who ? Historia, the girl whose all life, she couldn't act as herself or have any real agency.

Yes, you know the girl whose pregnant and decided to live the rest of her life Little House On The Prairie style. ( I mean I don't think it's her but... that's what it's looking right now. )

And who is a descendent of Ymir Fritz. With too much uncanney similarities between the two.

They could have said the Founder, Eren Jeager or something else but no they said... "It's the Attack Titan."

And it's not Ymir, if she was the one to control Eren. Why wouldn't she free herself on her own if she's able to do that ?

And in 131, she was clearly in a position where she was questionning her choice.

And perhaps she probably tried to stop Eren but the Attack Titan took over him and her. Using her powers as she is the founder.

And now just like Eren, she has no eyes. She is still a slave. Why ? I thought Eren freed her. So ? This is the only logical explanation right now.

I mean when is the last time we saw Eren.

He was sleeping inside his titan in 131. Having a dream about seeing his "sight" of freedom as a kid. And also potentially watching things with birds.

It's just weird. If he was fully in control, the characters wouldn't have questionned it and none of this weird shit would be happening.

He clearly doesn't have a free will.

This requires too much energy and Eren is a normal Eldian, not one of Royal Blood. Being both in Paths, watching this " sight ", communicating, watching with birds, moving his titan which is enormous and the thousands of colossal titans is clearly hard and too dangerous for only one person to do.

Isayama has fooled us all and me in the process.

All this time, it was that goddamn thing pulling the strings. And with the help of Isayama since he is the goddamn author of this series

In chapter 88, we learn the true meaning of Shingeki No Kyojin.

The beauty of the japanese language, as confusing as it is, can be translated by Attack On Titan, at least for us american and western audiences.

( yes because as someone pointed out in the comments, it's a mistranslation but since I don't understand how to give credit by linking because I don't understand how it works, i can't credit. So you can find the person in the comments. DO NOT JUDGE ME, tumblr is not the best place to post sometimes. )

But it's not the Attack on Titan anymore.

It's the Attack Titan.

( piece of shit is it's surname. )

#shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #eren jeager #snk eren #aot spoiler #snk spoilers #aot eren #the attack titan #I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK #THIS IS WHAT I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE #EUREKA #snk 133 #aot 133 #snk chapter 133 #ymir the first #ymir fritz

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caesthetix · 3 years

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SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Ep. What Paradise Is

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, description of violence, established relationship, spoiler for season 4, alternate ending, manga spoiler

"You know, I can't help but thank Eren that he killed her that night."

Everyone was busy with themselves after Jean beat Reiner to a pulp. The rest of them who were still awake, circling the campfire, waiting for sleepiness to engulf them. But that sentence was enough to stop them from dozing off, some pairs of eyes decided to fall upon them instead.

Hange tried to be neutral all the time. They needed to be the mediator between the Marleyans and the rest of the Survey Corps. After all, they needed each other if they wanted to stop the rumbling. Yet they couldn't help but speak up, they were human too after all.

"Huh?" It was Connie. "What do you mean by that, H-Hange-san?"

They just smiled softly as they looked down, watching their own reflection from the brown liquid in their hand. It was your favourite drink, coffee. Every sip would always be savoured as they imagined you sitting right in front of them.

"But we could use her strength. If she lived, she could help us to sway Eren." Armin spoke up, responding to their statement before. His blue eyes staring at the crackling fire, deep in his thoughts. "When we lost her, we lost seventy-five percent of the chance for winning this without having to harm Eren."

"You tell me that is the reason why he killed her?" The scowl on Connie's face hardened as he tried to connect the dots. "So we can't use her against him, eh? What a coward at the end. That lunatic bastard—"

"She would have followed him."

Mikasa's voice was soft and tiny as she cut his sentence. Yet even though it heard like a whisper, everyone could hear what she said. They blinked in confusion, except Hange and Jean who currently stood a few feet from them, somehow understood. The Marleyan raised their eyebrows in confusion, Annie could not understand what they were all talking about.

The rest of them were begging for more information, but the ravenette didn't give them any.

"She would have followed him."

Instead, she repeated the words. Her friends would understand her sentence — if they decided to use their brains for a while. They all knew you, she didn't have to give any further explanation regarding her statement.

Of course, now they understood why Hange thanked Eren for what he did to you. Even if you were alive right now, you were not going to be here, eating stew and drinking coffee while fretting about how to stop your lover who tried to commit genocide to the whole world.

You were going to be there, by his side, with your swords ready to be pointed out to anyone who tried to stop and harm Eren in any way. You would stand there, devoting your heart not for humanity, but for him. That was how big your love was, something that was blinding you, to the extent of worshipping him.

And they couldn't imagine themselves to be the one who sears their blades at you.

"You never told us, Hange."

Jean's voice filled the void, his feet stomping the grass underneath him, echoing through the quiet night. "That night, you never told us what happened." He stood on the other side of the campfire, his tall body looming in front of them as they seated on the ground.

The brunette stared at the man with a stern gaze, contemplating if it was the right moment to tell them. But their time was limited now, as their friends, they all deserved to know what happened that night.

"Alright." They put the metal cup down their lap. "Though I remind you now, it wouldn't be pleasant but," It even felt so heavy for them, by just thinking about your death. "But it would be so — her."

The veteran scout told them everything. From how you stood in front of their door, the coffee that they shared with you, to the time you cried when they gave you the key so you could go inside his cell. They were sure that you went there to talk and asked for a reason, but they knew thirty minutes wouldn't be enough.

Jean felt bad for asking, as he could see how much the commander suffered from this burden. Hange's hand balled into a fist, the other gripping tight on the cup's handle. Yet they keep on going, telling them how they saw Eren wash his face as if his hands were not stained by his lover's blood.

They explained the bruises on your neck, shaped like fingers as an indicator of how you died.

"Fuck." Jean cursed, his eyes glistening with tears that were threatening to fall. "Fuck." He shouldn't have asked, but it was too late, he could see the horror in your eyes, how afraid you were that night, how you were screaming for help but no one came.

For you to die, and the one who was responsible was your lover, he couldn't imagine the betrayal on your—

"But you know what's funny?" Hange spoke up once again, they were not finished yet. Their comrades immediately looked at them once again, asking for them to continue.

They sipped their coffee, recalling the gleam in your eyes, the comfort that they remembered up until now. There was no terror, you were not afraid of him even in your last moment. "There was no sign of resistance."

And that fact was enough to wake them up.

"Even from the start, when Eren choked her, she just stood there, letting him do it." They chuckled, almost maniacal. "Her eyes still shone with comfort as she looked at him. I-I always figure her out, I understand a lot of things about her. But, but I can't with this one."

They stopped, groaning as once again your eyes were the only thing that they could see. "I don't know anymore if she really believed that he must have to kill her for a reason," His hand shook the cup gently, letting the liquid swirl inside. "Or she believed that he would stop and let her go, even until she's gone for real."

And that last sentence broke them all.

The Marleyan couldn't look at the broken soldiers in front of them. Gabi and Falco pursed their lips, trying so hard to sleep. Annie who was sitting beside the unconscious Reiner, now having her pupils dilated as she understood the story, and who would be the mysterious woman that made them distressed like this.

Connie was silent as he kept gulping down water down his throat. Armin closed his eyes, but he could see it so clearly, the faith in your orbs. Jean just chuckled bitterly, muttering stupid woman again and again as tears were cascading down his cheek.

Then, Mikasa, her lips trembled as she tried not to sob. But whimpers already slipped, her empty cup fell to the ground as she put her hands on her ears as she wanted to stop the noises in her head. You brought joy, even in her life, and to be reminded that you were killed by Eren nonetheless, tore her apart.

The rest of the night was filled with nothing but sorrow. Tears accompanied them all to their sleep, silent weeps and choked-out sobs could be heard here and there.

Hange could only stay put under the white cloth that works as their blanket, staring into the dark green of trees, then went beyond that to see the night blue skies which adorned with stars. They subconsciously raised their hand, as if they were reaching for someone.

“Tell me, Hange!”

They tried to understand him, they really did. When they closed your eyes as you laid on the infirmary bed, they knew that you would appreciate it if they tried to understand why he killed you. Down in the basement, they tried to bait him with your condition, blaming him for how they lost another comrade.

“If there’s another way, then tell me what it is!”

But they were not you, they couldn’t see it. They wanted a reason but all they got from the man was just subtle answers, pain, anger, and how what he did was something inevitable. They just knew that he suffered too from what he had done, so perhaps it was enough.

They just wished — they could understand you.

"Oh, (Y/n)." They sighed, finally letting the tears slip down their cheeks. No one else saw them, it was just their lonely soul and the craving for your existence. "I think I didn’t know you enough."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His vision was supposed to be filled with lights, dark blue lights that came from the coordinate. He used to know it all, see it all, what happened in the world as he activated the rumbling, he could hear all the screams from those people underneath him. Trampled by gigantic power, without given any mercy.

He couldn't remember when it stopped. The terror, his friends fighting him so they could stop his plan — suddenly all he saw was just a bright pinkish sky. It was as if he was laying down on one of the clouds, soft and free.

The breeze tickled his long hair, good that it just swayed his brown strands softly, but not good enough to give him comfort.

Comfort, oh, how much he longed for that word.

The past few days had been so hard as he kept on living to grant freedom to the Island of Paradis. He could not count how many of his comrades died, how many of his followers ended up not seeing that freedom, let alone all the lives that he took.

And now when he knew that he failed, he chuckled as the realisation dawned upon him. After all these years — he was still the same useless boy.

"Eren."

He sat up in an instant. Dark green eyes searching for the source of where it came from. Surely he was not hallucinating, but that was a possibility. He didn't even know what this place, let alone believing that it was her voice.

"Hey, Eren."

But it was indeed your voice. No matter how many days or weeks passed after some time he had to part with you, he could always recognise that voice anywhere. Gentle, warm, and comforting, it felt like he was so close to heaven.

"You are here."

Then he felt it. He felt you. He looked down on his torso, finding two arms wrapped around him from behind. It felt so right as his hand slowly covered yours, testing it in case it was all in his head. But he could touch, he could trace his finger on the back of your hand.

He laughed, just a short one as he still processed what kind of magic existed in this place. You rested your chin on his shoulder, planting a peck on his cheek without warning that caused him to blush a hundred shades of red.

"(Y/n)?" He called out your name. "Are you real?" You only answered with a single hum. "How come are you real? Where is this place? Why am I here? I am not supposed to be here, I needed to finish the plan, Ymir is—"

You shut him up by placing your finger in front of his lips.

"You are free, Eren."

Silence. He could not understand that. Did it mean that he already died? But if that was the truth, why did he even feel more alive now compared to all those years that he spent before?

You slowly retracted your finger, pulling yourself from his embrace as gently as possible. Eren was still deep in thought, hands falling to the cloud-like ground he was sitting on right now. You stood up and walked in front of him, bare feet were now within his eyesight.

He could touch you before, and it didn’t feel like he was hallucinating. He felt your kiss before, and it made him sure that it was real. Bewildered, he looked up only to find you looking forward. Even though he felt that he was finally free, he was still curious about what happened in this moment.

"What is this place?" He asked again, now a lot calmer than before as he gazed at your face which showed nothing but peace.

"A transit." You started, eyes never leaving the glowing sight in front of you. "A place where you are finally free, but still misplaced since it was not the last destination where you should go." He hummed, processing your words that still felt unreal.

"Then why are you here?" All this afterlife thing was so foreign for him. "Why don't you leave and go to your last destination?"

"Oh, boy, you really asking me that?" You chuckled softly, snickering as if that was the dumbest question that you ever heard. Your eyes finally cast down to face him, and when he still looked so confused, you could only let out a sigh. "Because I am waiting for you, Eren."

You smiled wistfully, extending your hand for him to take. "What else could it be at this point?" He took it as he nodded at your answer. You helped him up, letting him stand by himself. And now as he looked around the endless clouds, he could finally embrace the fact that he was indeed — dead.

Anywhere he looked, he could only find the soft, white clouds refreshing the air. The colour was tinted orange as the sun in front of him shone like it would set anytime soon. But it had been perhaps minutes by now, and yet the colour never changed.

If he was finally here to feel his freedom, then he would take it. The world where he lived before was not his responsibility anymore. His friends had won, and it was not his place to ask for what happened next. Yes, he was ready to be free. But as he looked at you, he still had one, unanswered question that he needed to know.

"Hey, (Y/n)." He cleared his throat, melancholy striking his feature as your gaze met with his.

"Yes, Eren?"

How come you are here on his side? Why did you stay in this place alone just to wait for him? He killed you, why are you not running away? There was so much, so many questions that he never dared to ask you. But one, he needed to know the answer to this one question.

"Why don't you fight back when I try to kill you?"

You didn't flinch, you stood there with a neutral expression as if he just asked you if you had eaten before.

"Truthfully, Eren? I always thought that you were just trying to make me hate you. Looking at me with those cold eyes, tightening your grip like that." Your finger subconsciously went to your neck. "At first, I thought you were going to let me go at some point."

He could feel a lump start forming in his throat as he listened, tears were threatening to fall already. That was what you felt that night, you didn’t want to die. Of course, who in the right mind wanted to die? Let alone killed by someone that you loved.

"But as seconds passed and you were not loosening the grip, I understood." Then you continued, your hand now fell back to your side. Though, you still looked at him with earnestness written all over your face. "I understand that you had to kill me for a reason, that you knew it was for the best."

His breath hitched at your statement; which was supposed to make him feel guilty, to make him feel like he was not worthy of your faith. But with how there was no ill will nor sadness in your intonation, he couldn't feel any other feelings except — relief.

"So I believed in you, and I wanted you to know until the end that wherever I go next, I will always devote my heart to you."

You said it without doubt, as if you have been saying the same thing over and over again throughout your life. Yet somehow he could know that it was the truth. Perhaps you said that inside your heart for all the times that you spent with him.

While you still alive, you have put your faith in him, following him anywhere he goes. No one could sway your belief, you were devoted solely just to him. You praised his name, never leaving his side under any circumstances.

And he realised — that was the way you said you loved him.

So now, it was his time to do the same, to believe in you.

"Come on, Eren." You dusted the non-existent wrinkles on your clothes before extending your hand for him to take, a smile never leaving your face as you waited for him patiently. "Let's go home."

And without wasting another second, without any hesitation, he reached for your hand. The smile on your face widened at this, and the wind suddenly twirled around the two of you. He didn't know where home was, he didn't know where you would take him.

But as you started to walk in the direction of the sun, he followed. His eyes looked forward, dark green eyes turned into the emerald shade that was gone before. It was so beautiful, how he walked above the clouds, with your hand around his, guiding him to a new place called home.

Your laugh resonated in his ears as he caught up with you, gripping your hand tighter, afraid that he would lose you if he loosened up. Yet somehow he knew that he wouldn't have to be scared anymore.

Now he was finally free. From the burden on his shoulders, from the duty that was thrown at him by his ancestors, from the endless nightmare that he saw on each vision — it was all gone. And as his gaze fleeted toward your running form, he blinked in astonishment.

He saw you, a younger self of you perhaps, maybe when you were nine or ten. You looked beautiful, even with your hair slightly shorter, with chubby, adorable cheeks. Then you turned to face him, and he saw those glossy beads filled with purity.

And inside those, he saw a reflection. Of a boy not older than ten years old, with a brown outer and a sage green shirt, holding on to someone. Oh, it was him. He looked so free as he ran side by side with you, he looked so free with you leading him to his new home.

Laughter filled the air that surrounded you and him; high-pitched, carefree laughter that people would hear when children ran around the street to catch one another. That happy laugh slipped from both of your lips.

He held your hand tighter, not because he was afraid to lose you, but so he could feel your love even more. He ran with you faster, now becoming the one who followed you as he believed that you were going to take him somewhere, to the last destination.

A place where he could finally be free.

With you.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @queenofcurse

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaegar #eren x y/n #eren angst #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x y/n #aot #shingeki no kyojin imagine #shingeki no kyoujin #snk x reader #snk #eren imagines #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager imagines

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kaissauce · 3 years

Note

okay, phucker, do it

ok let's do this @rolli-zolli @ninikins

Horrortale: technically an alternate timeline instead of au. after a neutral run where undyne's queen the core malfunctions and food becomes scarce and people resort to eating humans because sans suggested it. Aliza is the protag. latest thing that happened in the ongoing comic was Aliza agreeing to go with Papyrus to solve his last puzzle. as for the appearance of sans he has a HUGE hole on his head and a red eye. he got the hole from undyne when she got his magic eye which was going to be used to power the core. sans didnt die tho and killed the guards holding him down and just took whatever eye was on the ground and used it as a replacement for his magic eye that's powering the core. i quote first words he said after putting the eye in his socket "who the fuck took my phone?". then the magic eye went apeshit and broke the core again. oh and also he made alphys braindead by quite literally scrambling her brain. yeah this au is rough sans hasn't really eaten anything since the core was destroyed since he decided not to eat any humans.

Dusttale: i think this was originally a korean au? basic rundown: too many genocide runs sans goes apeshit and tries to get his Lv up by killing monsters himself man went fuckin insane kills his brother blah blah blah edgy angsty au the ghost of papyrus haunts him n stuff. sans literally just looks the same except he has his hood on and sometimes artists draw him with papyrus's scarf. the cool artists draw him with his hood on and has the hood completely cover his face so u can only see his glowing pupils. although people call him dust sans he's actually named murder sans

Killer: so frickin similar to dusttale except sans goes apeshit because of the human being like "join me lmao". three different outcomes come from this. i think it was 1 sans joins human 2 sans joins human kills human later on 3 kills human or something. friends with color sans who is basically his impulse control. pretty sure his soul's fucked up and Color sans tries to make his soul un-fucked but Nightmare comes in and fucks up the progress. he has white shorts, his eye sockets are constantly pitch black and leaking tar or something also has a weird target thingy on his chest. OH YEAH ALSO HE HAS BEEF WITH UNDERSWAP SANS ALMOST FORGOT. basically swap sans tried to make killer good and then they had a fight, swap sans lost and was on the verge of dying thankfully swap papyrus was able to save him in time i think

Dreamtale: Dream isn't in the drawing but his brother, Nightmare is. Sooo he used to not look all goooy and have tentacles n stuff but then he ate a couple hundred apples and yeah. he's six years old apparently. Nightmare and Dream are supposed to be guardians of a tree that has 500 golden apples and 500 black n goopy apples. the golden aples are positive and the goop ones are negative. you're not supposed to eat either of them cus bad shit happens. Dream and Nightmare live in a village and for whatever reason they're all dicks to Nightmare because ooughh he's the guardian of negativity that's not baller. he also goes apeshit (do u see a pattern here) and eats a goopy apple n then becomes the goop man he is today. he fuckin eats 999 apples jesus christ. and the last one is eaten by Dream because if u eat all 1000 apples u become unstoppable and immortal. so that would be a bad thing if nightmare got the last one. wop wop wop these dude aren't sanses they only have the body of one if that makes sanse.

Error: manlet. he's literally an error and that's why he's like that. also he's technically not a sans now, the redesign for him was so that he could be in the creator's webcomic named Lucidia. Error sans, aka the destroyer of aus, finds aus to be mistakes so he tries to get rid of them. his process of doing this is simple: get the human soul to the void so that they can't reset, destroy the au. he primarily attacks using his strings which can wrap around one's soul and control them. he like some aus like outertale because of how open and empty it is. he likes to be alone and has haphephobia. if u touch him he'll glitch out and possibly crash. he crashes whenever gets overwhelmed. said crashing causes him to shut down and reboot and he's powerless while doing so. he's actually pretty easy to beat if you know how to push his buttons the right way. in the og ask error blog made by his creator Loverofpiggies he kidnaps Swap sans who tries to help Error become a better person. this ends horribly as error leaves Swap sans in the void who then becomes an error aswell due to being alone in the void too long. Error actually regrets doing that to swap sans

Aftertale: OK FUN FACT THE SANS OF THIS AU, WHO'S NICKNAMED "Geno" IS ERROR. aftertale is a comic made by LoverofPiggies it's been SOOOO long since i last read it so i cant really give a good summary. but anyways Geno is trapped in the loading screen with the human and will die if he leaves the loading screen. eventually from being in the loading screen for too long after the events of aftertale he becomes Error.

OOF WOWIE THERE'S SO MUCH TO GO

Underfresh: he's not even a sans either. "Fresh" is a parasite inhabiting a skeleton. his birthday is on 4/20 which is ironic cus he doesn't like drugs. he censors swears. he speaks 90's lingo and dresses like a neon sign. for some reason he has eyebrows and a gold tooth. the glasses he has can change text but normally defaults to "YOLO". he can't feel anything since he has no soul of his own and just latches onto the host's. instead he learns how to act from the people around him. not being able to feel actually bothers him a LOT

Echotale: Aka Gaster sans. uhhh this one was also a comic if i remember correctly. basically Frisk and G!Sans are the only ones in the au and they're trying to find the core to fix the fucked up timeline that they're in but the core keeps changing positions so that sucks.

Swapfell: originally made by Khhoppang who left social media. Started out as an Alphys x Undyne au so only those two were designed but Kh was planning to design more of the characters. before they could people had a field day with the idea of mashing two aus together and SO many people came up with their own designs for sans and papyrus. Khhoppang left social media because they got overwhelmed with all the art reposters and stuff, pretty sad. the appearance of the sans in that au is the purple one with a scythe (i dont think he has a scythe in the og design).

Swapfell Red: so basically this is the swapfell made by people that isn't Khhoppang. community made per se. Sans's appearance changes constantly because as said before many people made many different designs. typically he just looks like Swap sans but with red high heel boots and his color scheme fits underfell

Fellswap (gold): Au made by blackggggum. so swapfell is underswap turned fell, fell swap is underfell swapped it takes a bit to understand that. his appearance is somewhat similar to Swapfell red. He's kind to his friends but if ur his enemy he'll fucking deck you. he's blind in his left eye, the leader of the royal guard, and secretly into dressmaking. fun fact in this au Papyrus has autism

Xtale: uuuuhhhh so Cross is a complicated one. he's part of the royal guard along with papyrus. has beef with xgaster. responsible for the downfall of his au and then Underverse happens and Ink is all "oh cool someone to mess with" and they became friends for a bit then shit hit the fan

Underfell: OOOOO YES UNIRONICALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES. So Underfell sans is actually a very powerful mf and constantly has his magic eye activated because he has so much magic. This au is also technically an alternate timeline where monsters "lost their humanity" as the creator put it. so basically trust in the underground is scarce. Sans and papyrus, contrary to many interpretations i fucking hate, are actually on good terms (and no sans doesn't call papyrus "boss" the creator said if he does he'd do it ironically and papyrus would hate it). Fun facts he pays Grillby in socks (grillby accepts the socks as payment and wears them), if u make grillby laugh he gives u a jacket that looks like his and it's heavily implied that sans made him laugh because their jackets are similar

Underswap: ah yes another classic that i love as well. originally made by PopcornPr1nce who fled social media because they hated how the majority fandom treated Underswap (Blueberry and Carrot were popular names for the fanon swap papyrus and sans). Swap sans is constantly infantilized by the community which sucks and i hate it so i draw my own very super cool version of him whom i kin because i am also very super cool.

Outertale: mainly an aesthetic au pretty sure there's no comic of it. basically, instead of underground they in space. outer sans dies in underverse after like minutes of screentime lmao

Epictale: a comic made by Yugogeer. the og comic was retconned and the creator loathes the original version and made a reboot that's much better. Sans actually dies very early in it because Yugo hates how Sans is almost always focused on in aus. also the creator hates how meme-y their sans has become (like him saying bruh every single sentence, using a rubber chicken as a weapon, cookies, etc.) he's friends with Cross but not in canon. He has a purple magic eye that makes him immortal and i think only epic gaster could remove it which is how sans was able to be killed when he fought gaster.

Temmietale: it's undertale but everyone is temmie, don't question it

Trainertale: it's undertale but it's Pokemon, don't question it

Dancetale: it's undertale but you dance instead of fight, don't

Mobtale/Mafiatale: im unsure if mobtale and mafiatale are separate or not but they are very similar. basically undertale but mafia it's self explanatory

Undertale: no clue which au is this one, nope not at all/j

Bittytale or whatever idk: so take sans, make him small. boom. never understood this au

THAT BASTARD INK: HOOO BOY SAVED THE WORST FOR LAST. FUCK THIS GUY/j. THIS DUDE. IS THE REASON IM STILL INTO UNDERTALE AUS. I LOVE EM SO MUCH. also technically not a sans. He comes from an unfinished au and ripped his own soul to escape said au and became an outcode. for so long he was just a soulless husk until someone drew him and he got splashed with paint which let him feel. soon he learned to keep the paint in vials so that he can be able to feel 24/7. And then he learned how to create things with a paintbrush and the paint and spent time alone drawing up his own world until a portal appeared and took him to the multiverse. now he encourages artists to keep creating aus. he's the protector of aus in the sense that he keeps other outcodes from disrupting the script of the au, so if it's pacifist and an outcode tries to kill people he'd stop them, if it's genocide and an outcode tried to help them he'd stop them. no matter what he wants the au to stay on script. fun fact the creator of ink and the creator of error never had them interact with each other in canon, that was all the fandom's doing. Contrary to popular belief he's not really considered "good" his alignment is officially "Chaotic neutral". I personally interpret him a lot more chaotic than in canon because it's fun but he's a pretty chill guy actually. he can just be a bit of an ass sometimes. According to the creator of Ink (who is Comyet) his interpretation in Underverse is not canon compliant. one of the biggest canon things that underverse contradicts is Ink deliberately not taking his vials. if he were to do that in canon he'd become a husk again which is the equivalent of him "dying". he was described as a walking corpse by Comyet, without the vials he can't function anymore. Like Error he's pretty easy to beat if you know his weaknesses. also he has fears of empty spaces and being alone

off topic kinda but i very much love how Error and Ink are opposites yet parallel even though they were completely written without the other in mind. Error believes getting rid of aus is getting rid of anomalies. Ink believes people interfering with aus are anomalies. Error loves emptiness, Ink hates emptiness. list goes on it's funky fresh.

also uhhh sanses missing from that drawing that i can name from the top of my head

Seraphim sans, Insans, Dusttrust, He who shall not be named because he's from an 18+ au, Swapswap (yes. that exists), Storyshift, Inverted Fate (very good au i suggest checking it out), Negatale, Oceantale, Template, Pale, Mafiafell, Farmtale

my phone is at 9% y'all are spared from me going on

#long post #ask #ninikins #rolli zolli

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crispyjenkins · 3 years

Text

dream clouds, ghost ground (real friends, dead hometown)

an accidental jangobi au

( and also @batsutousai and @the-mandalorian-clone-lover but it won’t let me tag you :(

i uhhhhhh plotted this from my prompt roster without rereading the actual ask, so this is completely out of timeline for the anon’s prompt? and i didn’t realise until i was halfway through?? so here’s this??? i already have ideas for a sequel???? (and it’s 3157 words gl)

some context: there’s no age-out, but obi-wan is still sent to the agricorp and stays there. yarael poof inspects the facility 7 years later, and obi has visions of korda 6/galidraan and finagles themself onto the rescue mission of the true mandalorians. cue chaotic, still-has-the-impulsivity-that-got-them-kicked-out obi-wan. who is also nb just for funsies.

title from start//end by eden

Obi-Wan Kenobi is not as Yarael had expected, but then, he had never met them while they lived in the Temple.

The young Jedi breaks away from their group of friends on the other side of Bandomeer’s main greenhouse as soon as they catch sight of Yarael, the other novitiates trying and failing to hold Obi-Wan back from running through the dark green garden beds right up to him. They don’t seem to care that they’ve interrupted Master Fodvam’s tour of the facility, and ignores her to glare at Yarael with a fire in their eyes that he vaguely remembers as being the cause for their failing the initiate program. Stocky and toned with dark freckles on every bit of exposed skin from working the desert Enrichment Zones, Obi-Wan glares up at Yarael with a set to their lips so very like Master Yoda (and Qui-Gon Jinn, for that matter) that Yarael raises a placating hand to the Kubaz master at his side and smiles back down at Obi-Wan.

At first flush, he might have thought Obi-Wan approached him to beg to be allowed to return to the Temple and become a knight —it would not be the first time an old initiate had done so, though they usually attempted such an action much sooner after their reassignment— but instead, Obi-Wan wastes no time in demanding, “You have to go Korda 6, the lives of thousands depend on it.”

“And why is that, young one?” Yarael returns calmly, though Obi-Wan must be pushing seventeen standard; everyone is young to him these days.

Master Fodvam sighs, reaching out to put a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm, but they shake her off. “Obi-Wan,” she admonishes softly, for all the good that does.

“There’s going to be a genocide,” Obi-Wan insists over the sound of their friends trying to call them back across the greenhouse, “Death Watch is going to kill the Mand’alor and slaughter the True Mandalorians, and no one here will listen to me.”

Curious about their absolute certainty, Yarael gently pushes against their mind, but has to jerk away when the Jedi shoves him right back out, Yarael’s second brain fizzling like it had been shocked by a bad power coupling. Perhaps Master Yoda had been too hasty in handing this one over to the Council of Reassignment, when even though Yarael can sense their fear and hurt, their lingering doubt in the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan has not a single crack in their shields. Not a single doubt in themselves.

Master Fodvam shakes her head, but it appears more out of a helplessness than disappointment. “Master Poof,” she says, “Novitiate Kenobi has spoken of this premonition for the last standard tenday, and I’m afraid none of the masters here are versed in the Unifying Force.”

“At all,” they stress.

Interesting indeed, that Master Yoda would nominate Obi-Wan for the Agricorp over the other branches, then, for surely they would have shown precognition as a crècheling. “Novitiate Kenobi, you clearly have complete faith in such a vision.” Yarael doesn’t try to enter their mind again, but does open his senses between them, benignly inviting Obi-Wan into his own instead. “Show me.”

Obi-Wan is bewildered for all of a moment, eyebrows pinched, but then they blink in understanding and snap their eyes closed. A flurry of images is all but shoved into Yarael’s lower brain, a confusing mash of forests and armor and blasterfire, but, yes, there is Vizsla, and there is Mereel, and there is a Mandalorian in blue armor leaving Mereel to die on the battlefield.

“How are you sure this is Korda 6?” Yarael asks, opening his eyes to Obi-Wan’s mentally-drained expression, tanned skin sallow under the freckles.

“I’ve heard some of the mission report,” they say, and let Master Fodvam gently support them where they had pushed her away before; Yarael will certainly have to teach Obi-Wan to strengthen their mental stamina. “Every night for the last tenday I’ve seen this battle, I’ve seen ten different ways it could go, and all of them end with the True Mandalorians’ slaughter, unless we do something.”

The Quermian looks Obi-Wan up and down once more, reaching as far into the Force as he can manage, and he doesn’t have a lifetime seat on the High Council for nothing.

“Then we’ve not a moment to lose, do we?”

If Obi-Wan is surprised Yarael insists on taking them to his ship to join him for his update to the Council, they don’t show it, and don’t appear nervous at all as the holocall connects. In fact, they stand off to the side with their arms behind their back and a serene expression on their face, right until Master Rancisis admits a contingent of Jedi had just left to help a planet deal with a violent insurgence of Mandalorian commandos, led by Jango Fett.

And then Obi-Wan only blinks before turning his gaze up to Yarael. “Then we are too late for Korda 6. We must make for Galidraan.”

The holo of Master Rancisis flickers as he winds and unwinds his appendages until he finally says, “We did not tell you the planet’s name.”

On Rancisis’ left, Master Yoda taps his cane against the floor. “Clear it is, that truth in Novitiate Kenobi’s visions there is. To what extent, we do not know, but great pain I sense if act quickly we do not.”

After meeting each of the other coucilmember’s eyes, Master Rancisis leans forward in his seat and points one undulating finger at Obi-Wan. ”You will go with Master Poof to Galidraan, Novitiate Kenobi; if you leave now, you may make it in time to prevent the Jedi from having a hand in this massacre.”

Obi-Wan checks with Yarael first, their deference almost endearing as they look up at him for confirmation; Yarael cannot help a small smile, and if the Council has not guessed his intentions by now, then they are as blind as a naked womp-rat. “Well, Novitiate Kenobi?” he prompts, “Are you prepared to see this through properly?”

Obi-Wan drops their shoulders to raise their chin instead. “To be truthful, Master Poof, I would have been disappointed to be left behind.”

Obi-Wan is already at the hatch of Master Poof’s cruiser when they finally land as close to the coordinates the Council had given them as they dare, and Obi-Wan sorely wishes they had asked Master Fodvam for a blaster before leaving Bandomeer. Nothing can be done for that now, and there is the more pressing matter that Master Poof had been unable to contact the Jedi already planetside, but perhaps they shouldn’t have expected the Force to make it easy on them.

As soon as the cruiser is settled, Obi-Wan elbows the control panel for the landing hatch and drops right down into the snow; they’re not quite dressed for this weather, not coming straight from the desert Enrichment Zone, but they can hardly feel the cold over the cloying, suffocating fear that saturates the air until even the trees tremble with it. And they might be stronger in the Unifying Force than anyone else in the Agricorp, but Obi-Wan hasn’t been wrist-deep in soil for seven years to come out of it without feeling the Living Force just as strongly.

Run, the trees tell them, and they do, pushing themself up onto more compact snow and taking off for the True Mandalorian camp. Master Poof calls after them, but they don’t slow until they reach the top of the nearest ridge, a sheer drop on the other side right into the camp, and Obi-Wan is forced to look out over their worst vision come to life.

The Mandalorians stand as one facing the opening to the ravine on Obi-Wan’s right, where the Jedi spread out among the tents as Master Dooku reads them a list of false wrongs, and Obi-Wan knows the Mandalorians will not surrender. Mand’alor Mereel’s son stands before Dooku in newly-painted blue and red armor, raising his blaster as Dooku ignites his ’saber, and Master Poof halts abruptly at Obi-Wan’s side and lifts a four-fingered hand, but he won’t be able to Force-suggest anyone in beskar, and—

And he has a lightsaber hanging from his belt.

Obi-Wan had not failed their Jedi training, they were bright and talented and wanted absolutely nothing more than to become a Jedi Knight, but their temper had seen Bruck to the Halls of Healing, and their impulsivity had seen them to the Agricorp despite the potential they had shown in their seven years in the crèche.

Their temper, they have control over that now, Obi-Wan is rarely even angry these days, but their impulsivity has been the, ah... cause for many of the Bandomeer masters’ grey hairs, so to speak.

So Obi-Wan does not think before grabbing Master Poof’s ’saber, barely able to even lift the hilt almost as long as their arm, and leaps from the crumbling snowbank with as much Force behind their feet as they can muster. Sound snaps to silence in their ears, vision narrowing on the scant yard between Jango Fett and his death, as Obi-Wan yanks the Living Force around themself and hauls it up right from the ground, grabs it by the roots of the nearest tree until it sings.

By a miracle of the Force, Obi-Wan lands perfectly between the new Mand’alor and the Jedi, igniting Master Poof’s unusually-yellow lightsaber just in time to deflect Jango’s first blaster bolt right into the ground — the ground that shakes and splits, exploding snow into the air to make way for the evergreen roots that surge through the cracks and grab Dooku’s entire arm, sending his ’saber flying.

Obi-Wan inhales once, twice, before allowing their other senses to flood back to them, and the Force sees fit to immediately make them aware of Master Poof stumbling down the bank after them with his upper hands raised in surrender.

“Peace, Jedi!” he shouts, successfully pulling the gaze of everyone in the ravine away from Dooku’s limb held aloft by mud-slick roots and to himself instead. “We have been misled,” he presses on, almost seeming to glide over the packed snow to stand at Obi-Wan’s back and place a palm between their shoulders, “These Mandalorians know nothing of what you speak, Master Dooku, we are both being played by the Governor of Galidraan.”

Jango Fett growls over his external comms, close enough to make Obi-Wan shiver. “What the kriffing fuck is going on?” he snaps, not bothering to drop his blaster as Obi-Wan glances at him and can just see the shadow of his eyes behind his visor.

“Death Watch had the governor call the Jedi here under false pretences, your grace,” Obi-Wan says, and doesn’t know what to make of the way the Mand’alor twitches at their voice. They can feel their shoulder weakening from hefting such a massive hilt, unwieldy even gripped at the balance point, but Obi-Wan refuses to let their arm shake, not with both sides holding them under such scrutiny; Maker, maybe they should have changed into Jedi robes instead of their dark tunics and kama? It gives them a silhouette neither wholly Mandalorian nor wholly Jedi, and certainly only adds to the confusion.

Nothing to be done about it now.

“The governor lied to the Mandalorians about their targets, to perfectly set them up for a Jedi arbitration,” Master Poof explains. “And of course knew that the Mandalorians would never surrender to the Jedi.” He looks slowly around at both parties, letting his words sink in until the Jedi are shutting their lightsabers off in disgust.

The Mandalorians don’t put away their blasters, obviously, but they do lower them enough to be an act of good faith; only when Jango lowers his own does Obi-Wan power down Master Poof’s ’saber, and is all too happy to hand the weighty thing back to him with a shallow bow.

Master Poof smiles in amusement, clipping the hilt back in its rightful place on his belt, before calmly nodding to Dooku. “Novitiate, you may release Master Dooku now.”

Startled, Obi-Wan immediately calls on the Living Force to pull the roots away from the man and coax them back into the ground, hoping they hadn’t damaged anything enough for the evergreen just up the ridge to suffer.

Dooku massages his red wrist and eyes Obi-Wan carefully, the clouds of breath before his lips casting strange shadows over his face in the dying sunlight. “I was not aware the Agricorp was still teaching Consitor Sato to its novitiates. Nor so... successfully.”

“... Master Fodvam would appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to the High Council.”

“I am on the Council, Novitiate Kenobi,” Master Poof chortles, but turns back to the Mandalorians still effusing bewilderment before the new Mand’alor can decide they really are all better off dead. “Mand’alor Fett, I presume?”

Jango shifts subtly, still close enough for Obi-Wan to watch his eyes dart to the Quermian. “For all of a week, jetii; how you are aware of this already does nothing to convince me to trust you. Any of you.”

Master Poof just smiles serenely. “There is little one cannot gather from the Force upon first meeting, your grace. However, you are correct, and I would not be aware of Jaster Mereel's death if my companion had not told me of it.”

Jango doesn't get the chance to ask him to clarify just what that means, the girl padawan at Dooku's side cutting in rudely,

“And Master Poof, just who is your companion?” as if she can’t tell from Obi-Wan’s attire that they were a Jedi Knight washout.

So maybe Obi-Wan doesn’t have complete mastery of their temper just yet, but they don’t get to snarl back before Master Poof answers cheerfully, "They are my new apprentice!"

Oh.

“Master Poof...?”

“I cannot very well leave a novitiate so strong in the Unifying Force untrained, can I?” Master Poof shakes his head. "As the matter stands, our duty to Galidraan is not yet complete: the governor has pulled both the Jedi and the Senate into his personal affairs, and has allied with a known terrorist group. Master Dooku, might I suggest we make to arrest the actual perpetrator of these crimes?”

“Vizsla will be there,” Jango interrupts. “And he must know his plan has failed by now, you'll be walking right into a trap.”

Obi-Wan raises a brow. “A trap meant for you, your grace. When we engage Governor Martinet, it would be unwise for the True Mandalorians to still be on planet.”

“Why do you keep calling us that?" he snaps, the blue-armoured Mandalorian at his side grabbing his shoulder to hold him back from... striking Obi-Wan? From removing his helmet? Obi-Wan isn't sure.

They are sure that, if the Jedi succeed in apprehending Vizsla, the New Mandalorians will make themselves known much earlier. “One day, soon, you will need to make the distinction between yourselves, and those that will use ‘Mandalorian’ as a ploy for cultural reform, as claim to an identity that is not theirs,” Obi-Wan says, finding Jango’s eyes behind his visor once more. “The Children of the Watch will choose ‘True’ as that distinction of your people in retrospect, some fifty years from now.”

The Mandalorian holding Jango’s shoulder tenses. “Are you some sort of prophet, kih’jetii?”

“Hardly,” they smile, because the Force promises to back off a little after this mess is all said and done, whenever that may be. “But the Force decided I was the most likely candidate to make it here in time to stop a genocide, though I’m not sure if it knew how much information I actually needed. Irregardless, everything from today is now changed from any visions I had seen of it, I’m no more a prophet than you are.”

Jango twitches again strangely, and his companion tightens their grip on their blaster.

“Novitiate Kenobi is right,” Poof interjects gently. “You should take your people to regroup and recover, your grace, you will be of no use to the galaxy dead.”

“Wait,” Jango grits through clenched teeth. “It would... be unfair for us not to aid you in this, not when this was our disaster, too.”

“There is no need for that,” Dooku says regally, Force-calling his ’saber back to his hand. “This has become a Senate matter, and to involve yourselves further would be an unnecessary risk.”

“So you... want us to just leave?”

Dooku raises a single eyebrow, expression blank otherwise, but Obi-Wan still shudders at the dark anger in the man, the rage that had hit its boiling point upon first meeting Jango and believing he had slaughtered almost two hundred innocent activists. The Force warns Obi-Wan about that darkness, the way Dooku has not yet released it; it also gives them hope, though, that the master can be pulled back into the light, with a little persuasion and lots of tea.

The conversation has moved on without them when Obi-Wan tries to focus back on the crisis at hand, Jango’s commandos already starting to pack up the camp while Dooku and Master Poof quietly discuss the Jedi’s next moves. Neither seem to have realised Obi-Wan hadn’t been paying attention, which is just fine by them: Master Fodvam is already at wit’s end trying to keep them focused on anything but plants, somedays.

A heavy gaze pulls their own to look up, across the camp to where Jango oversees his people’s retreat, but Obi-Wan knows the Mand’alor’s attention is on them alone. Obi-Wan gazes right back, refusing to the first to look away, and is somehow thrilled rather than disappointed when Jango does just that.

He does not say goodbye, but that’s alright, Obi-Wan knows they’ll be meeting again soon.

Following a stomping Jango up into Jaster’s old ship, Myles won’t stop laughing at him.

“‘The one who will speak of the truth,’” he quotes gleefully, just as jovial in his punching of Jango’s sides as he attempts to unbuckle his helmet, and he doesn’t back down even when his Mand’alor growls at him. “Kriff, who knew that witch would end up being so literal?”

“I told you I don’t believe in that osik,” Jango snaps, trying to shove his best friend off of him. “I don't believe in that old hag's ‘prophecy’ any more than I believe in Jedi competence.”

“Ah ah, Jang’alor, you shouldn’t speak of your ba’buir like that, what would Jaster say?”

Jango finally gets his helmet off and yanks his hood down so he can get right in Myles’ face to snarl, “That adiik is not the future of Mandalore, kriff whatever the fuck Jaster’s buir says! One dream and one crazy old enby witch spouting oracle nonsense does not make Obi-Wan Kenobi my destiny.”

Jango doesn’t need to see Myles’ face to know it lights up in victory. “Nobody said their full name, Jang’alor.”

“Finish that thought and I’ll throw you out the airlock.”

Mando’a:

Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore.

jetii — “Jedi” sing, pl. jetiise

kih'jetii — “Little Jedi”, highly offensive

osik — impolite form of “dung”, shit

ba'buir/e — “grandparent/s”, gender neutral

adiik — a child aged from 3 to 13, used here as an insult

Cansitor Sato — Traditional High Galactic for “Plant Surge”, a Living Force-related technique of controlling plants (usually vines) to ensnare or slow an enemy; in legends, this was taught to Agricorp members as well, headcanoned here to be usually only taught to master/older members.

Novitiate — personal headcanon for the form of address for non-master members of the Jedi Corps.

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my-bated-breath · 4 years

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On Ideals and Idealization

OR: My-Bated-Breath’s interpretation of Aang and Katara’s relationship in The Southern Raiders

When Bryke said that Kataang was in the DNA of ATLA, it was not a complete lie - Katara and Aang, in many ways, are each other’s anchors. For Katara, Aang is hope revived, the Avatar that has come to restore balance to the world. Meanwhile, for Aang, Katara is his guide in a cruel and unfamiliar 100-year war, loving him unconditionally in a world that hates him for abandoning it. As a result, Aang naturally loves her in return.

The narrative itself suggests that Aang’s love for Katara is nearly divine (and it suggests that it’s a love so blinding that it becomes his most selfish attachment). But for a love that appears so pure and untouchable on the surface, the episode “The Southern Raiders” reveals countless fractures lying underneath the surface.

Aang loves Katara, yes, but he is in love with an idealized version of her. In his mind, he holds close the idea of a gentle Katara, a smiling Katara, a compassionate and all-loving Katara. Even though he has seen her darkest moments when she bloodbends Hama - arms bent in disjointed angles, fingers curled as if manipulating puppet strings - it does not tarnish his image of her because, at this moment, she is not the persecutor, but the persecuted.

After her experience with Hama, Aang is there to comfort her and help her come to terms with the terrifying power she now possesses. With her face streaked with tears and eyes widened with horror, it is clear that this is a power that Katara does not want, that it has been thrust onto her against her own will.

The conclusion that Aang draws from this is that Katara’s inner darkness is a separate entity from her inner light, and he perceives this acquired part of her as a blemish on her inherent goodness. As such, in “the Southern Raiders,” when he witnesses how Katara’s anger and grief drive her to hunt down her mother’s killer, he equates Katara seeking closure to Katara succumbing to darkness, tainting her purity and compassion in the process.

Dialogue from The Southern Raiders

Katara: Ugh, I knew you wouldn't understand.

Aang: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?

Many have stated valid reasons why Aang cannot possibly understand Katara’s pain in this scenario - he was not there to witness his people’s genocide or the theft of Appa; he has no way of confronting those who were responsible for his loss - but perhaps the reason why Aang thinks that he understands Katara’s pain should be expanded upon as well. As stated before, Aang has seen how bloodbending is a power Hama forced Katara to learn and how “bloodbender” is an identity unwillingly pushed onto her.

Maybe, in the same way that Aang believes that he knows Katara’s pain, he believes that he knows Katara’s inner conflict as well. After all, to take on an unwanted power and identity is something he knows all too well.

Dialogue from The Avatar Returns

Katara: Why didn’t you tell us you were the Avatar?”

Aang: Because… I never wanted to be.

When the sandbenders stole Appa, Aang succumbed to the Avatar state. When he found out what the Fire Nation did to his people, Aang succumbed to the Avatar state. In the Avatar State, Aang forfeits control over himself, loses sight of his pacifistic nature, and in return, he gains the power to hurt the people he cares about.

Aang enters the Avatar State in times of desperation and, as he alludes to in his dialogue, in times of anger. So to see Katara express her rage in The Southern Raiders scares Aang - no, it terrifies Aang - because he is seeing Katara is “giving in” to her own Avatar State, one where she has no control over herself and loses sight of her compassionate nature.

Dialogue from The Southern Raiders

Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.

Aang: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge.

Katara: Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

To be impassioned in her search for her mother’s killers is to be impassioned in her search for revenge, and to want revenge against a war criminal is to want to attack the innocent. As soon as Katara descends into violence, she will slide down the slippery slope where she will become Jet, where she will become Hama.

Only morality is not quite as black and white as Aang depicts it to be, and Katara’s psychology is not as similar to Aang’s as he believes to be. While Aang views Katara’s compassion and rage as a dichotomy in her character (meaning that they are mutually exclusive) or as an internal conflict of good versus evil, in truth Katara’s compassion and rage can often be described as a reciprocatory relationship where one drives the other. I expand upon this concept in much more detail in this meta, but here I will simply quote an excerpt and summarize:

Excerpt from “Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between” (give this a read if you want an analysis on how Katara’s rage and compassion embody the complexity of human emotion)

“…Katara’s anger and compassion do not simply split themselves into two identities. Instead, they coexist and coalesce into one. They drive each other; they feed into each other; they are two sides of the same coin.”

Katara’s rage fuels her compassion because her relationship with grief and anger is what allows her to sympathize with other people’s grief and anger, which is why she shares the story of her mother’s death with Aang, Haru, and Jet. Then, to quote again from my meta, “Katara’s compassion is what grants her a protective instinct, and her protective instinct is what moves her anger and violence.” To clarify, Katara’s protective violence describes her frightening Fire Nation soldiers in order to protect the Jang Hui village in “The Painted Lady” and her threatening Zuko in order to protect Aang in “The Western Air Temple.”

Thus, to Katara, rage is not always an emotion that causes her to lose sight of herself. Instead, it’s one that incites her to act on her ideals of justice and protection.

Dialogue from the Southern Raiders

Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster.

Of course, that is not to say that Katara’s anger does not lead her to violate her morals since she bloodbends the captain of the Southern Raiders despite her previously swearing to never bloodbend again. But while the Southern Raiders shows Katara coming to terms (or at least beginning to come to terms) with the idea of good and bad, justice and revenge, and right and wrong, Aang stalwartly clings onto the notion of two separate “Katara”s - the good and evil, the compassionate and the rage-driven - and unfairly takes on a position of moral authority against the “dark” Katara in hopes of reviving the “light” one.

Excerpt from “On an Immensely Popular Post” (most of the analysis in this one is about platonic-romantic relationships, but I dissect the Aang-Sokka-Katara dialogue from TSR in-depth here):

“While I believe that Aang’s principles of forgiveness are morally sound, the way he pushes his beliefs onto Katara undermines much of her grief. At first, Aang tries to relate to Katara’s experiences by comparing them to his own, but there is a forceful connotation to his dialogue that suggests that Aang considers himself to be the moral authority compared to Katara. Hence, Aang judges Katara (“I think it’s about getting revenge”) without trying to reach out and understand her, forgoing the empathetic common ground in favor of taking on the moral high ground.”

Aang forgoes the common ground because he believes Katara’s morality to be as black and white as his own, and then he takes on the high ground because he thinks he understands Katara’s internal conflict. Except he doesn’t, since what rage means to Aang is vastly different from what rage means to Katara. What he understands as Katara’s ideals stem from his idealization of her, and this crack in their relationship, this masquerade of misunderstandings and attachment and “falling in love” - it all comes to a breaking point in the Southern Raiders where the truth finally makes itself known:

Aang idealizes Katara by rendering her into a dichotomy. Katara draws the agency to act on her ideals from her duality.

#atla #atla meta #katara #katara meta #anti kataang #anti kataang meta #my bated breath analyzes #my bated breath's posts #this is what we mean when we say aang idealizes katara #or at least this is what i mean #also it's 12:47 AM and I'm tired

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siennahrobek · 3 years

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I had so many ideas on what to write about today but I was scrolling through the Obi-Wan tag during my break and I came across a huge post that had been baffled and a bit crazed. It was labeled about forgiveness and mercy and such but it was like a huge insanely interpreted post about the Jedi Order and some of the characters. Of course I wasn't about to start any sort of argument (and wow was the post long) but I just had to write something, at least, in my own post, unconnected with theirs. I guess this is a reaction and buckle up cause it seems like this is going to be a long one. I have a lot to say and I'm not gonna stop being all anxious about it until I do but uh....

I'm sorry, did we watch the same movies?

They go through a lot of movies and completely do a opposite take on the Jedi; how they are "unattached" (I say this because there are so many misconceptions about the word) and celibate (which we know isn't actually true) and how Anakin becomes living proof why this attitude is wrong.

First of all, it's not an attitude; it is a way of life. One that has worked for thousands of people over millennia. Second; their point WAS proven. Anakin turned to the dark side and became a sith. He committed genocide after genocide (the Jedi, Mandalore, Alderaan, Lasan etc.) and in the end, he only turned back because of his son. Which, may seem good on the surface, but it only goes to show how no other children or people that he murdered actually mattered, it was only his blood child that did. But that's not where I'm going. You don't actually see him regret doing the countless things he has done (probably because he dies) and he only does this because of his blood son. It, for me, gives the impression that blood means everything.

Anyways, there is quite a bit of talk about Obi-Wan and honestly? It is all not good. I'm not blind to Obi-Wan's faults but in general? He is a really good person; he tries so hard and goes through so much and is ugh, always trying. Obi-Wan shows no understanding? What? What? Did we watch the same movie? I mean it has been a while since I have watched Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith (they hurt my heart because ugh) but that is NOT what I remember. I remember Obi-Wan teasing Anakin gently to get his mind off of his anxieties when they were going to see Padme again. I remember Obi-Wan saying "dude don't be a horny teenager" (not in those words obviously, but that was essentially the message). I remember him literally parenting and teaching him - like he's supposed to do. I remember him trusting Anakin to do the right thing and to protect the Senator alone, by himself. I remember Anakin saying he's been having dreams - not visions or anything and nothing specific, just about his mom - and Obi-Wan going "it's alright dude, those pass in time". I mean everyone has DREAMS, that's not beholden to force-sensitives. My dreams sure as heck don't mean anything. Just cause he is a Jedi and COULD have visions, does not mean they are. And he didn't tell Obi-Wan they were visions, he literally says dreams.

(this is about the time that I wish I could work with gifs and understand them)

Anakin is not stronger than Obi-Wan; I mean, really? Sure, more powerful? I guess? But let's go back. Who beats who on Mustafar? Obi-Wan. Who does NOT murder a bunch of children and turn to the dark side? Obi-Wan. Literally, sure, he's more "powerful" with the Force, because I guess that is the whole point but he's not stronger or wiser than Obi-Wan because as Captain Rex said "experience outranks everything" and man, does Obi-Wan have a lot of that.

Let's take a break and go to Shmi. They claim that her death is a dark page in the Jedi's book. I mean, w-what? How can you possibly blame the Jedi for Shmi's death? For not freeing her? Did Qui-Gon even tell the Council that Anakin was a slave? I don't remember, honestly. But still, she ended up freed and married to a man she fell in love with. And if I remember correctly, someone was sent (by Padme maybe? to free her but she was already gone to the Lars' by that point).

Okay, I know it sounds like I am reacting to a post and well I am I suppose. But like, this post is literally blaming the Jedi for Shmi's death and how they did not offer Anakin compassion. And then just to say that it is bothersome how Anakin was solely blamed. Uh, because he was a the perpetrator! How can you possibly justify the MURDER of children. Even though it not the Jedi way, I could understand, sort of, if he went after the people that hurt his mother specifically; probably some of the men/warriors/adults. But the babies? The children? You can literally not justify that. And to blame the Jedi Order and Obi-Wan for not "taking his nightmares seriously?" Are you serious? Anakin mentioned the dream (DREAM) once in passing, there is no indication that he said that she was in danger or that this was a vision. And visions are known to be notoriously unreliable! Not to mention, the Council is responsible for the Jedi as a whole - that is thousands of people.

Alright, now to the war.

There was a claim that throughout the war, the Jedi became more and more aloof, intolerant and unforgiving and determined to win despite the suffering of the people.

What. The. Krutack.

I will include the Clone Wars series, since it was directly referenced in response. Once again, did we watch the same show? Because I'm pretty sure that virtually the whole point of the show, aside from showing us horrible things the CIS did and the individuality of the clones, was the compassion and kindness of the Jedi. How they fought to protect as many people as they could. They were dying alongside the clones. Does anyone remember how kind and caring the Jedi were when they came across civilians. Do you remember how Obi-Wan literally carried and protected with his own body the little Twielek girl, Numa, on Ryloth? Does anyone remember how many NON-Republic planets they helped? I remember them helping even CIS senators and planets that had no ties to the Republic. They helped Mandalore even when they were not part of the Republic. The vast majority of Jedi are shown protecting not only citizens but the clones as well. They are on the front lines - not hidden behind a desk (although some are and that is necessary - tactics and strategy people) and trying to save as many lives as they can, even if it costs them. They inspire creativity and individuality in the clones - this is literally a thing. I could go on and on and on.

Okay, on to Revenge of the Sith - the sadness that will probably haunt my heart forever. We will start with Dooku; specifically when Palpatine tells Anakin to kill him and that he deserves it; it is revenge for cutting off his and whatever. And this, this, post asks if this is an act of mercy for the guy kneeling in front of him (and tells him Obi-Wan later denies him) and like, what? How in the world is that mercy? He murders a defenseless man. Sure, he is the enemy and he is a criminal but he is supposed to stand trial (not to mention all the intelligence Dooku could possible give to help win the war) which is incredibly ironic, considering later, Anakin screams at Mace Windu telling him Palpatine should stand trial (even though he is much more dangerous and more of a threat than Dooku). This is not mercy. This is a handless, defenseless (although evil) man who Anakin does actually kill. It is not mercy.

Anakin has dreams about Padme; similar to his mother. You would think he would have learned his lesson and confided in someone by telling them what was actually happening. Anakin once again, DOES NOT give Yoda any specifics, just that he fears someone he is close to will die. It is claimed that he is lacking empathy and compassion to Anakin's dilemma. WHAT DILEMMA? Anakin won't tell anyone anything that could actually help. What Yoda says is true; like "dude, people die and you have to move on from that. You cannot stop death and you cannot let this fear control you. You have to let go" which is a completely reasonable thing; I mean, hello - grief counseling anyone? Yoda probably thought he was talking about Obi-Wan - who was off on a very dangerous mission against a cyborg that had killed many Jedi and padawans; this seems like a very normal fear. Whether or not Yoda says this in the right way is not really relevant; Anakin knows that he has to let go of what he fears to lose because eventually, no matter what, he will lose it. NOTHING is permanent. Now if Anakin had specified he was having what he thought were visions and the actual person in them, I'm sure Yoda would have said things differently and probably helped him.

(Also, did Padme get any real health care or like??? Was it too much of a secret???)

(The genocide of the people in the Temple is conveniently glossed through with bare mention)

and then Mustafar. Contrary to Padme (apparently) Obi-Wan shows no clemency. ANAKIN MURDERED THE ELDERLY, THE SICK/INJURED AND BABIES in the temple. Not warriors, not even full grown men and women (some would be full grown but all the able bodied were probably out in the war trying to defend the universe). He should NOT be granted clemency. Anyone else would probably have been executed for this direct horrifying act. But they seem to gloss over how Obi-Wan is always on the defensive, not really because Anakin is more overpowering (And Obi-Wan does use a defensive style, Soresu) but because he is trying to give Anakin time to chill out and come to his senses. That is literally how the choreography was designed.

And Obi-Wan's last words were? Harsh? What? If I remember correctly, Obi-Wan says something like "You were supposed to destroy the Sith not join them" and when Anakin screams he hates Obi-Wan, the return is "you were my brother, Anakin, I loved you."

That is heart-breaking and sad, not harsh. How can you look at Obi-Wan's face in this scene and call that harsh? How can your heart not break for him?!

Say what you will about Obi-Wan leaving Anakin without "finishing him off". Whether or not this is a mercy, whatever. First, we needed a reason for Vader to be in the suit. Second, Anakin was unarmed; Obi-Wan doesn't go around killing unarmed enemies, much less loved ones. (Hello, the slaver from the series, anyone? He didn't kill him; it is against his beliefs. Rex killed him). Can you even imagine how Obi-Wan was feeling? How could he possibly kill his brother? Like, I have so many feelings and not enough words ahdkjgkjgjkf. Anakin does suffer and Obi-Wan has no reason to believe that Anakin would survive his injuries. Furthermore, if I remember correctly, Palpatine ship was coming? Also, Obi-Wan had to get to Padme - she was injured and more of a priority. Because she is someone he can try to save - Anakin is long gone - in more ways than one.

Although it claimed that they are not denying the terrible things Anakin has done; that is almost kind of what they are doing. They are literally putting Anakin's choices and agency to the fault of the Jedi - not just individuals but the culture and people. It is literally gone on to say that if he had left with his wife, the worst could have been avoided. What was the worst?

Oh, a mass murderer got his legs cut off and accidently burned alive. Uhm, okay, that sucks but you do realize he committed genocide of his entire family right? And he choked his wife into unconsciousness.

I can't even with humans.

There is not even a note to Palpatine and how he manipulated Anakin for years. No blame at all on the man we need to blame the most - they put all the blame on the Jedi which just. Blows my mind.

The Clone Wars proved there was no right choice for the Jedi - they were doomed to fall. Not because of anything they did - they did everything they could - but because of Palpatine's plans and schemes. I will never, ever agree that the Jedi failed because of themselves. I do not think that the "institution" was destined to fall ( that "institution" lasted for longer than the Republic). The Jedi were trying so hard - they were kind and good and compassionate and trying so hard for peace and saving as many lives as they could. The Sith were evil. The CIS was evil. The Senate was corrupt. And the Jedi were trying.

There is so much Jedi-blaming for Anakin's attitude, disposition and choices it is literally driving me insane. Why did I do this to myself?

Things delve into a New Hope and immediately there is bashing of the jedi; where Obi-Wan cuts some guy's arm off at a Cantina and Obi- Wan "lying" that Vader killed Anakin. Which, honestly, I could see that being true. Him being Anakin's murderer, at least. Vader may have Anakin's body but even he claims that he killed Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, at least, how he thought he was, was loyal and passionate and loving - or at least he tried to be. Vader is literally none of these things; there is very little of "Anakin" in Vader. And at first glance, it may seem that Obi-Wan and Yoda are setting Luke up to kill "his father" but honestly, I see it more as preparing him to fight Vader and kill him, if necessary. It's a horrible thing, but they do not outright say anything. And honestly, they were right. Vader is willing to kill Luke - he cuts off his hand and fights him. Okay, I have so much to say about this but that is for another time; i will digress about this particular point (of lying and such)

Luke, apparently, decides to forgive Vader and show him mercy (which is claimed the Jedi and Obi-Wan NEVER did for Anakin, no matter what he did for them which is such BS I'm virtually crying rn)

There is a lengthy talk about Luke trying to rebuild the Jedi culture and how it crushed him, his contrast with Obi-Wan's attitude and shame(?) and how trying to be a Jedi has caused him to fail. Because apparently Luke is the only one who apologized and that makes him different I guess? (How many times has Obi-Wan apologized and thought things were his fault even though they weren't?)

I won't get into the Sequel Trilogy because honestly, it does very little to interest me. I am mostly a Prequel- era person mostly because I love Obi-Wan and the strength and compassion of his character. Finn seemed really interesting to me and man I thought having a female Jedi character would be really great - we had some fantastic female Jedi such as Ahsoka, Shaak Tii, Depa Billaba and so many more - but they were rarely the focus and I thought it would be fun. But, I was a bit disappointed because killing off Han Solo the way they did? Eh. Didn't care for it. I was also in the era of Mara Jade, Jacen and Jaina Solo, Anakin Solo and Ben Skywalker (Luke's son) so perhaps I was a little bias. I didn't really understand why Leia and Han would name their child after someone that they didn't really know (although I do have a headcanon concerning Leia and Obi-Wan which I find hilarious that I love).

I didn't particularly care for the Sequel Trilogy. They made it a Skywalker show and they did an emphasis on romantic love and from what I recall from what I have watched, the majority of the characters weren't nearly as interesting or compelling to me. And then bringing Palpatine back, sighs. Why does it always come back to him? That is just exhausting.

I'm not hating on the Sequels; everyone is allowed to like things or whatever. I just didn't; they focused so much on Rey and Kylo Ren (who I actually have a bit of an opinion on but I won't right now) instead of the more intriguing characters. I would have been much more interested in Finn as a Jedi. To overcome what he has been through as a stormtrooper and becoming a Jedi would be a really interesting story. I didn't care for how they handled Luke. And I didn't like how Rey apparently became a master so fast without any real training? Even Anakin, the Chosen One, the most powerful force-wielder, had ten years of training under Obi-Wan and the Jedi. That stuff doesn't just...come; you learn it.

I wrote more about the Sequel Trilogy than I care too. I suppose this is a rather reaction post but wow; I felt like me and this person had watched two separate movie trilogy/shows. It boggles my mind on how people can get the opposite of something that was so clearly shown. I hope I didn't upset anyone too bad. I'm not hear to start a fight, just to get out some feelings.

I wrote this all instead of homework that I desperately need to do. Sighs.

I need to go through my likes and read some good Jedi content cause man, that, that was hard.

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spicymayo1983 · 3 years

Text

Hiya. This is part 2. You delve deeper into your relationship with Poe and he reveals some secrets about himself that break your heart.

Will you ultimately sign the papers and walk away?

Warnings, smut, angst, talk of PTSD and genocide, fluff, not for anyone under 18.

Scene 2, Aftermath

The atmosphere in the room immediately changed, from the giddy euphoria of great sex to one of awkward silence.

You had given in to temptation and his seductive charms. Poe could look at you with his smoldering good looks and he knew that you would soon be in his bed.

You hated yourself for having sex with him and enjoying it too. But Poe had that effect on you, mentally and physically, it was nearly impossible for you to resist him.

You suspected that Poe knew this, and took advantage of it at times.

After a chance encounter at a birthday party for a mutual friend you met Poe. You fell hard for the handsome, brave black leader and he fell for you too.

You were both absolutely besotted and had trouble keeping your eyes, and hands, off of each other.

You'd never loved anyone with such an intense passion, a ferocity, as Poe.

After dating for nearly one year the two of you decided to get married in a quick but lovely little ceremony. Surprising everyone around you.

Some of your friends had expressed a little concern that things were progressing too quickly, including Finn.

But you were too blinded by love, maybe even lust, to listen.

Your son was conceived on your wedding night, both of you were ecstatic at the news that you were going to be parents.

But noone was more excited than Poe. No matter what he tried to be there for every check up and pampered you while you were pregnant and after the birth of your son.

Everything happened at a dizzying pace, a blur. Within two years you had become a wife and a mother.

You were starting to realize that maybe things happened too quickly. That instead of spending a little more time to know and understand Poe you had instead rushed off, gotten married and had given birth to his child.

But then you would gaze into the dark eyes of your beautiful baby, kiss the top of his little head that was covered in dark curly hair and see Poe, your husband, and start to fall in love even more.

It was a painful cycle that was ripping you apart at the seams.

"I guess I could say that I'll always have some affection for you because you are the father of my child." You explained calmly as you looked down. "But I can't say that I love you anymore".

"I'll always love you but then again I'll always love Finn too". Poe confessed as he looked away from you. "We have a special bond that you wouldn't understand, we've been through so much together".

"Why weren't you honest with me about Finn? Are you still closeted?" You continued calmly. "I don't get it, I feel like I was lied to and led on".

Poe looked irritated at your choice of words. Finally with a deep sigh he looked at you and said,

"There was never a closet, I fucking hate that term".

"Then what was it then?" You continued, genuinely curious.

"I always assumed that everyone knew about us, that Finn and I were more than friends, we were so obvious at times". Poe continued, laughing bitterly. "But certain higher ups didn't want us to be together so we kind of kept things hidden, a secret".

"I'm so sorry to hear that and I can't say that I understand how it feels". You confessed as you looked down again. "Just so you know I don't hate Finn, this isn't his fault, he's still my friend".

"Jakku broke me a little". Poe confessed with a bitter laugh as he fought back tears. "A lot, actually, I still have nightmares about everything sometimes, Finn supported me and helped me with things when noone else wanted to, or could, he understands me".

Poe's candid and raw confession brought tears to your eyes. You could see the hurt and torment in his eyes and hear it in his voice.

"If you want to cry, do it". You told him with a slight smile as you took Poe into your arms. "Let it all out, if you can, talk to me".

"The first order killed everyone in their path, including women and children". Poe told you as he buried his face into your shoulder and started to shake. "A mother and her little girl were killed right in front of me, when I try to sleep sometimes I can still hear their screams".

You had to remain strong for him but your heart was shattered by his confession.

You held onto him tightly and protectively, kissing him on the top of his head, as Poe started to cry. He felt safe in your arms as you lovingly cradled him.

"I love you and I don't want you to go". Poe confessed as he snuggled closer to you.

Poe got on top of you and started to kiss you again, you let it happen, and progress. It didn't take long for him to be back inside of you, and you were enjoying soft, half asleep sex.

Your bodies, and souls, felt deeply connected.

You'd be a liar if you said that his bare cock didn't feel good inside of your body. It felt too good, actually. The raw, skin on skin sensation was almost overwhelming to your senses.

Poe enjoyed his second climax deep inside of you, you felt it too. His cock got extremely hard, and warm, as he spilled his thick seed within you.

You were taken back to the warm, beautiful night that your son was lovingly conceived.

The scent of sex clung heavily in the air, just like that night too.

Only this time you felt like the smell of your sweaty, mingling bodies was taunting you.

"This isn't good, not good at all". You confessed as you burst into tears and held your head in your hands.

"Gee, thanks a lot". Poe snapped as he turned his back to you.

"Why did you even marry me if you knew that you were in love with Finn?" You screamed as you burst into tears.

"Because". Poe snapped, sitting up and looking you deeply in the eyes as he fought back tears. "You could give me the one thing that Finn can't, okay? I don't know what I would do or where I would even be without my son".

"So you used my body like an incubator?" You screamed back as you slapped him as hard as you could across his handsome face.

"It's not like that". Poe explained as he started to cry. "I love you too, I didn't use you, it's just that you could have my children, and I guess I wanted my kids to grow up with a mom and dad".

"You picked a poor choice of words". You screamed as you stood up and got out of bed. "It's over, Poe".

You went into the kitchen and shakily signed the divorce decree, as soon as you were finished you got dressed and left, without saying goodbye.

Six months later

You were free. A single woman again. Much to your surprise your last sexual encounter with your now ex husband had resulted in a second pregnancy, another boy.

After many tears and much debate the two of you decided to keep the baby.

Poe was excited that he was going to be a father again.

Finn and Poe were living together and engaged. You had patched up things a little with your ex and were now friends.

"You're huge! How are you feeling?"

"A little tired and achy but otherwise fine, the second pregnancy is going along a little easier".

"I can't wait for our second little boy to be here".

You were nearly 7 months pregnant and had decided to surprise Poe in the resistance hangar.

He looked ridiculously sexy in his orange jumper, his curly hair askew.

Even though you were no longer together Poe was once again a loving and supportive partner.

You were the friendliest of exes. You even had plans to attend his wedding after the baby was born.

"Why did you walk away so easily?" Poe asked with a slight smile as he lovingly rubbed your massive baby bump, leaning down and kissing it.

"Everyone deserves to be with their soulmate". You confessed as you fought back tears. "And it can't be denied what you and Finn have".

"So you love me so much that you let me go?" Poe asked with a soft smile as he lovingly embraced you.

"Yes". You confessed, finally losing control of your emotions as a flood of tears streaked down your face.

"I love you too". Poe whispered into your ear as he held you tight. "And I'm sorry that you found out the way you did".

The end

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron smut #star wars smut #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #fanfic smut #fanfiction #fanfic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac smut #divorce

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ask-them-bois · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Matriarchs, pt 1/3

TLDR: Musrio has a talk with Oliver and the ancestors.

TW: None

~~~~~~~~ Musrio knew exactly what god had chosen to shove its bulge up his wastechute and fuck him over when he’d walked into Scarbucks to see none other than Oliver fucking Maddel standing at the counter, chatting amicably with the barista.

The sun had only just set, so the coffeehive was nearly empty, and Oliver turned her head at the sound of the dongshouter above the door ringing. Musrio froze on the spot, despite Oliver being unable to see him. As he watched, a small, knowing smile spread across Oliver’s face, and the rustblood knew beyond doubt that Oliver knew exactly who stood behind her.

“Good morning, Almawt.” He said politely.

Musrio said nothing, rooted to the spot by his surprise. After a moment, he shook himself out of it, magic springing to his palms as he braced himself for the oliveblood to make a move. And since Oliver couldn’t see him, he flipped them the finger.

Oliver seemed unperturbed by his silence. “I was hoping to come across you soon, you know. I didn’t realize it would be now, but, ah well. Better now than never, darling. Come, order your drink, on me. We should talk.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” Musrio scowled.

“Oh, I know you don’t want to, but I think you and I need to. Just give me ten minutes, darling.”

“I’d rather eat glass. Ribbit.” Musrio spat.

Oliver tittered, taking her drink from the barista. “With the amount of venom you ingest, would that even do anything?” She inquired, turning to fully face him. “Five minutes, then? That’s all I’m asking for. Perhaps we can set some of our grievances aside.”

Musrio narrowed his eyes, understandably suspicious. Oliver tisked, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll be over here if you change your mind. Darling, put this man’s drink on my tab.” They said, talking to the barista over their shoulder, before they turned and headed for a booth far away from the other patrons, their cane clicking against the floor.

Musrio strongly considered turning around and walking back out. His feet were burning with the urge. At the very least, he was going to get what he came for, though. He approached the counter and gave them his order; a black coffee with as much espresso they were legally allowed to give him, and whipped cream.

It came out rather quickly, and he took it to the personalization station, watching Oliver out of the corner of his eye the entire time.

The oliveblood had taken a seat, and was tapping on his palmhusk, an earpiece reading out his claw’s placement on the screen as his purse and cane laid on the bench beside him.

Musrio reached into his robe, to his satchel, and removed a vial of a viscous, clear fluid. He splashed a healthy amount into the coffee and stirred it, before pouring in a few packs of sugar. He turned towards the oliveblood again, debating himself silently for several seconds.

Finally, he approached the booth, and wordlessly slid into the opposing bench.

Oliver didn’t look up from her palmhusk, but she smiled. “So glad you decided to join me, darling.”

“Five minutes starts now.” Musrio said pointedly.

Oliver hummed, flicking tabs away on their palmhusk before closing it down and setting it aside. “Indeed.” They knitted their fingers together, resting their chin on them. Even with their eyes covered, Musrio got the impression Oliver was staring him down. “We have quite the history together, don’t we, Almawt?”

“No, we don’t.”

“Oh, but we do. Perhaps not directly, but we shared one very important troll.”

“We didn’t share them; you took them away and gave me back the broken pieces. Ribbit.” Musrio snapped.

“If that is how you remember it, darling, sure.” She hurried on as Musrio opened his mouth to speak, “You know, it’s quite funny. I don’t even know what you look like, darling, yet this… animosity has grown so dark between us, that even I am blinded by it. I am thankful that I am a phoenix, so that I might have a chance to cut through the murk with a gracing light.”

Musrio scoffed. “What are you getting at, Oliver?”

“I am getting at your surrender, Musrio.” Oliver said bluntly, his smile suddenly dropped.

“My what?”

“I am asking you politely, and once: I ask that you surrender your side now, before this gets messy and trolls get hurt. I don’t care if you join me or not, but simply… stop fighting. There’s no way you can win- you see that, don’t you?”

Musrio’s claws dug into his palms as he curled his hands into fists. “Trolls are going to get hurt regardless, Oliver- you’re planning a fucking genocide! Ribbit!”

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. “Sacrifices must be made, for the good of-”

“The only troll this would be good for is you.” Musrio cut them off.

“Darling, please. Surely someone as logical as you can see how the odds are stacked? On my side, I have the entirety of the Black Hand- nearly three hundred strong- BB, the Enforcer, and the Bladepen.

You have a drunk, a chef, a pair of broken batteries, a pair of mangy mutts, a gardener, a rancher, a madman, a chronically sick child, a philosopher, a retired soldier, and a failure.” She listed them off like she’d practiced this. “That’s not even to mention those of us who are undecided, such as the Hounding, the mutant reds, and the dear prince. Your side is mere has-beens and broken trolls, darling. I am offering you a chance to surrender with grace, rather than see them all culled.”

Musrio took a deep gulp of coffee in hostile silence, setting his cup down with force. “That’s where you’re wrong, Oliver.” He said, his voice dark. “I “have” nothing. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for demons and shifter-beasts and robots. I didn’t ask for soldiers and thieves. They took a good look at the fight you’re trying to start, and chose to back up the one troll you seem afraid of. Ribbit.”

Oliver scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you, Musrio.”

“Then why are we having this discussion?” The rustblood demanded, “If you aren’t afraid, why meet me like this?”

“Because I, platonically, pity you, darling. Watching this all go down is like watching a warren of hop-beast grubs try to fight a howl-beast. Frankly, it’s depressing that the Infinite Scapegrace thought you were a suitable rival to strengthen me.”

Musrio’s mouth opened in shock. “You think that’s what this is? Ribbit?” He hissed, “That I’m some big obstacle your god put in your way to test your mettle?”

Oliver tipped his head. “Of course, darling. Why else would you be so inferior, yet so maddeningly annoying?” Musrio growled, low in his chest, and Oliver raised her hands in surrender. “No offense.”

“Oh, all offenses taken.” Musrio snapped. He slid out of the booth, standing up. “I think I’m done here. I’m not surrendering, Oliver. That’s not a fucking option anymore. I don’t give a damn about you, your god, or even this piece of shit world, but I do give a rat’s ass about the fact that you collectively ruined my fucking life. Ribbit. Fuck you, fuck the Black Hand, and fuck Neviserrath.” Oliver tensed in his seat, “I didn’t ask for this. All I fucking wanted was to be a professor and marry my partner. But since you ruined that, since you started this bullshit and I got no say in my participation, I’m going to put an end to it. Ribbit!”

He spat out the final croak, snatched up his coffee, and stormed out.

It took the entirety of the twenty minute walk down to the docks for him to calm down. He called Drayco as soon as he was a few blocks away from the coffeehive and told them everything that had happened.

“Holy shit, babe.” Was Drayco’s response, “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Mush.” The bronzeblood sighed, “I… I don’t know what to do or say. This all started because of m-”

“Don’t, Dee.” Musrio said forcefully, before his dropped into an almost uncharacteristic softness, “This isn’t your fault. It’s Oliver’s. You know that. Ribbit.”

“… Yeah, I know.”

“This will be over soon, Dee, and we can put this all behind us. We just need to find Lucina.”

“Are you headed to them now?”

“Yeah. I’d just stopped off to get a drink.”

He heard Drayco suck in a sharp, gurgling breath. “Well, good luck, then. Call me after and tell me how it goes.”

“I will.”

“Okay. I love you, Mushy.”

“I love you, too. Ribbit.”

Musrio hung up as he approached the docks, and ascended the ramp of the Warshark. Standing on the deck, smoking a cigarette, was the Ruthless Deepbite.

He let out his breath, smoke streaming from his mouth and gills.

“They’re all waitin’ in the dinin’ block fer ya, lad.”

Musrio paused, looking up at the violetblood. “You know what this is about, don’t you?”

Ruthless nodded, the haunted and exhausted look in his eyes, for once, slightly alleviated by the faintest spark of hope. “Aye. There’s only one color left.” He looked out towards the water, his tattered fins flickering. “Krakyn wanted ta be here fer this, but he can’t come this close ta shore.” He said.

“You can tell him about this afterwards. Ribbit.”

“Aye.” Ruthless dropped the butt and crushed it under his boot, before he turned and headed for the hatch. “Come on, then.”

He hauled open the hatch, and let Musrio into the bowls of the ancient ship.

Down the corridor, Ruthless let him into a large room that once crammed a crew of four dozen trolls into tables to eat.

Now, only the Incoding, the Innocent, the Decaying, the Deadscar Wanderer, and, inexplicably, the Hounding and Ashhur, sat around a table, the former sat on the opposite end of the two latter. They all looked up as Musrio and Ruthless Deepbite entered.

“Welcome, young Almawt.” Innocent signed politely.

“Hi. Thank you all for coming.” Musrio nodded. Awkwardly, he took a seat at the head of the table, while Ruthless took a seat between his morails. Taking a sip of his coffee, he cleared his throat. “I… suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here.” He internally cringed at saying such a cliché line. “Well…” He took a deep breath, trying to settle his sudden onset of nerves; he’d never been in a room with so many adults before. “I’ve got a lot to explain.”

Knocking back another gulp of poisoned coffee, the adults were silent as Musrio launched into the story; his death, his revival, his title as the second harbinger, the Black Hand, Neviserrath Apocriyna, the chosen child, the ritual, Oliver’s goal, and his mission. He spoke for over an hour without pause, leaving nothing out as he explained the reasons for their revivals, and why he’d needed them in the first place.

“… and now,” He said, his throat beginning to ache from talking for so long, “we’ve come down to the final color: Jade. Ribbit.”

Musrio watched Innocent and Incoding’s eyes slide directly to Ruthless.

The large seadweller swallowed. “But ya’ve tried a hundred times ta bring her back, lad. Nothin’s worked.”

“That’s the thing.” Musrio shifted in his seat, “The Hierophant came to me, and told me why we’d been failing.” He leaned forward, “Ruthless, your wife isn’t dead.”

A very loud silence fell as the violetblood’s face went slack with disbelief. “… She…?” He tried to speak, his voice faint. Slowly, he began to shake his head. “No, no, that can’t be right! She died in my arms! I watched-”

Musrio held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not denying that she died. She did. Ribbit. But she came back, long before I ever even hatched. She’s a rainbow drinker, Ruthless, and she’s waiting for us, somewhere.”

Ruthless sat back in his seat, before he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands as he digested this. His fins began to flare, before they drooped, only to hesitantly flutter upwards again. Incoding and Innocent each put a comforting hand on his shoulders as he digested this.

For a minute, Musrio honestly thought the seadweller was going to cry. At last, though, he took a deep breath and sat up again, running a hand over his face. “I…” he shook his head. “Okay. Sorry. Okay. My wife’s alive.” His voice cracked, “Where is she?”

At that, Musrio could only shake his head. “I don’t know. She could be anywhere on Alternia- for all I know, she could be off-world. We need to plan, to-”

“To what? We can’t possibly sweep the entire planet for her.” Incoding interjected.

“I know that.” Musrio huffed, “But we need some place to start.” He turned to Ruthless, “Think, Deepbite. There must be a place the two of you went to that she’d know you’d think of, or something. Ribbit.”

Ruthless frowned, brows furrowing in thought. “… No. The only places I could think of would be ‘er grave, or here. Most everythin’ ‘tween us happened on this tub.” He stamped his foot, and the ship responded with a creak. “An’ trust me, I’d know if she were here.”

Musrio swallowed the growl in his throat. “Well, then…” His gaze wandered the room, as if the answer would be scrawled on the walls. He turned to Deadscar, next. “What about you? You’ve been all over Alternia, have you seen anywhere that could be a rainbow drinker’s hideout? Ribbit?”

The Wanderer considered it for a moment, before he shook his head. “That is too vague a question. I have seen hundreds of places where it would be easy for a rainbow drinker to dwell.” He rumbled.

Musrio reached up and fiddled with his necklace, thinking. Looking over the gathered trolls again, his gaze landed on his own ancestor, the Decaying Mind. Brigan was staring fixatedly at him.

“… You know, don’t you?” Musrio asked him.

He nodded.

“What?” Ruthless rounded on the older rustblood, “How?”

Musrio sighed. “Brigan saw all of this happen before it even occurred, when he was caught between life and death. Ribbit. It destroyed most of his mind, which is why I gave him his title.” He explained.

“Rotted, totted, off to the maggots.” Brigan hummed, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Then tell us, Bri.” Incoding took his matesprit’s hand, squeezing it gently, “Where is Lucina?”

Brigan looked up at him, squinting at the goldblood’s face. “Oh, Cody…” he sighed, making Incoding start in surprise.

“Where is she, Almawt?” Ruthless repeated, more forcefully.

Brigan began to sway, his lips pursed. Slowly, he scowled. “Words, words, words. Rotten like my pan, spilling black ink on black paper. Leviathan drowned by wolf, heralded by scorpion, stealing my lexicon. Incomprehensible, even to the Ebonblack.” He said, sounding frustrated.

“… What?” Innocent asked.

That was when Ashhur suddenly stood up. He walked around the table to face Decaying, leaning towards him. “Incomprehensible, against the Ebonblack.” He chirred, “Scrambled eggs in fried pan. Indigestible for gods. Poison. Use it.”

“Brat, what’re you doin’?” Hounding growled. Ruthless shushed him, as Decaying fixed his gaze on the young mutant.

Ashhur made several clicks and hums, all four eyes blinking out of sync. “The raining bows sipper is…” more clicks, “hiding. You know?” He asked.

Decaying nodded, enthralled. “I know.” He agreed, a look of hopeful wonder on his face as he stared at Ashhur.

“Where do you know?”

“Where do I know…” Decaying repeated, scratching his stubbly cheek. He opened his mouth and shut it several times. “The monster.” He said at last, seeming pleased with himself. He pointed at Ashhur, “Monster to monster, water to sand. No- no water, but the sapphire eye, guarding to the metal serpent. Beast of thirst, watching beast of slake, guarded by beast of bone. You know?”

All of Ashhur’s fins waved, almost hypnotically, as he thought this over, Decaying leaning forward with anticipation. Finally, Ashhur turned to Hounding. “What call you, the place of sand with no water?”

“The desert?” Hounding raised an eyebrow.

Decaying slapped his free hand onto the table, shook it out, and pointed at Hounding, nodding emphatically. “Desert, dessert, sweetness in sugar sand and gritted gold.” He turned to Ruthless. “Therein lies the where I know, what I know, who is known. Follow the screaming serpent’s trail, into the red, and find the corpse of lifeless gods.” He said, as if that was both comprehensible and important.

“Cody?” Ruthless turned to his morail, hoping for a translation.

“The hound of war lies in the desert.” Ashhur spoke instead, “Guarded by a beast, of one kind or many.”

“Okay… what’s a screaming serpent?” Incoding inquired.

Ashhur looked to Decaying.

“Metal, screaming, scuttling upon legs of centipede, but a serpent none the less.”

“Oh- a trackscuttler.” Incoding realized. He glanced at Ashhur, impressed. “How did you… manage to make him do that?”

Ashhur shrugged. “He cannot speak the way his pan speaks. I am,” he hesitated, clicking to himself, “broken worded, with your tongue. Broken tongue,” He pointed at himself, “broken thinkpan.” He pointed at Decaying, “Together, we make the words.”

“Well, then...” Innocent signed, “We head to the desert, and follow the trackscuttler trail.”

“All of us? That seems… like a bad idea.” Incoding frowned, “We don’t know where in the desert she is, or even which desert. The supplies alone would be a huge burden, and-”

“Then I’ll go.” Deadscar interrupted shortly. He rose to his feet, “I have crossed many deserts. I can search on my own.”

“Now, hang on.” Hounding squinted at Ishran, “Why the hell are ya goin’? I’m the tracker; my name is the Messiah’s damned Houndin’, after all.”

As one, the entire table turned to look at him. “... Why are you here, even?” Innocent inquired, “Last I checked, you weren’t on our side.”

Hounding nodded to Musrio. “The scumblood told me I aught’a come. Said I could get away from Godric.”

“I thought Godric was your boss.” Innocent pointed out, “He is the one that set you on us in the first place. Why would you want to get away from him?”

Hounding eyed the limeblood reproachfully. “Name one laborer that actually likes their foreman, sewerblood, an’ I’ll hang up my ax. Motherfucker pays me ta clean up his messes, but that doesn’t mean I want ta do it. The jobs the church gives me are more important than offin’ off some bitchblood with a big mouth.”

“...”

All the other adults gave each other a look.

Musrio shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Hounding is no longer the bigger threat here. We have Oliver, and the Enforcer to worry about. Ancient animosities have to be set aside. Ribbit.”

“It’s true…” Incoding said thoughtfully, before he snorted a laugh and turned to Hounding, “You’re basic, big guy. You’re season one’s villain.”

Hounding growled at him. “I could still rip ya in half right now, pissblood.”

“An’ ye’d get a bullet in the eye fer it.” Ruthless hissed.

“Stop.” Musrio said sharply, “Now isn’t the time.”

“Aye.” Ruthless agreed, looking around. “But it’s decided, then? Ishran’ll head fer the desert ta search fer Lucina. When ‘e finds her, we’ll come a’runnin’.”

The others nodded.

Ishran turned towards the door. “No point in wasting time. I will leave now.”

“Already?” Innocent asked, surprised.

Ishran looked towards his former charge, his expression momentarily softening. “Yes. I will be in touch.” He said, before striding out the door.

With that, Musrio rose to his feet, before he bowed to the gathered ancestors. “You have my thanks, all of you, for hearing me out. And… I’m sorry, for all of this. If it was my choice, I would have left your souls to rest. Ribbit.”

The gathering broke up, then, Hounding and Ashhur leaving promptly after. Musrio stood on the deck of the Warshark, texting Drayco as the three morails chatted nearby. The young rustblood looked up as a hand touched his shoulder.

“Puzzle to puzzle, pieces to rest.” Decaying murmured, coming to stand beside him. He looked up at the moons; they were full and fat that night, bathing everything in silvery purple and green. “Connected, all of them, until the picture is made blurry by the buried secrets. Clicked together, string to thumbtack, followed by the puppet wires, until they all tie behind the boy with demons in his blood and gods in his brain.”

He looked down at Musrio again, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he gazed intensely at his descendant. “The line will be blurred, paint will spill, but painters spared. Follow the lines, balance, tight-rope walking, but let ashen feathers run amok. Flames consume breath until redemption breaks the puzzle. The bane of worlds and innocent constellations will be the salvation of us all.”

He squeezed Musrio’s shoulder, before he wandered away, leaving the young rustblood to contemplate the oncoming events.

#of monsters and matriarchs #story time #long post #musrio almawt #oliver maddel #the innocent #the incoding #ruthless deepbite #the decaying #the deadscar wanderer #the hounding #ashhur jaybez

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