finaltrooper

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enemies to lovers trope >>>>

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you: hey elizabeth what’s the LEAST USEFUL and MOST UNWANTED contribution you could possibly make? me: [SWEATS NERVOUSLY]

TRIPTYCH Star Wars: The Force Awakens, gen, Ben & Kylo Ren, 92k words [2nd person POV][redemption centric]

The master trains the apprentice. The apprentice kills the master and takes their place. The master takes an apprentice. It is the cycle of things, and the way all those like him do, your Supreme Leader creates his own downfall. He cultivates it, covets it, and it kills him.

It’s not you. Of course it’s not you.

[ read @ ao3 ]

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Oh why not? How about Finn for the obscure headcanon thing?

The heart, the surgeon says, does not revealthe small rifts, the hairline cracks whichsplit

The first time FN-2187′s heart breaks, he doesn’t notice. 

….well. He notices, of course he does. But he doesn’t have the words for it—the vocabulary of the First Order is hot to the touch, overwhelming, like an overheated blaster. A language that doesn’t like admitting that stormtroopers might have insides that were soft and red and tender; that these might be burned by all that fire and soil and blood.

So FN-2187 is not prepared for watching Ello dragged before Phasma and what was known, unofficially, as the Trooper Panel. Phasma was its head, an empress in chrome, flanked by her first, most faithful, generals. They were old, FN-2187 had thought at the time. (In hindsight, having known General Organa, having seen the lines around Major Catalonia’s mouth, Han Solo’s grey hair, Finn thought they were probably not very old at all. They were very young, maybe as young as he was defecting to the Resistance. Thinking it had made him feel an unexpected pang of pity.)

(It didn’t mean, all those years later, he forgave them for it. But it meant that—there, in the belly of the Falcon, stroking Rose’s hair and thinking about the choices of war, he feels something like pity nonetheless.)

Ello was dragged before Phasma and the Panel, and pushed to her knees, and Finn was young enough that he grabbed at Eights’ hand—Stop it, Eights had hissed, shaking him off. Watch. You don’t want it to be you next, do you?

Ello had always been kind to FN-2187. Sometimes she gave him her leftovers in the mess hall, and even though it was rumored she was being considered for command track, she would stop and talk to him in the corridors as he mopped. She’d said he was clever. She’d said he was kind. She’d asked what his nickname was, and when FN-2187 said, I don’t have one, she’d answered, well, then I’ll have to give you one.

She’d taught him sabacc with a contraband deck of cards, and Republican slang she’d learned from skimming the holonet—FN-2187 wasn’t privileged enough for the holonet—and then she’d called him Fence. Your designation is a mouthful, she’d whispered, and then kissed him on the forehead, once, twice, three times.

FN-2187 let her, and thought, with the sort of passion that inspired martyrs, I wonder if she’s my mother. (He held his hand over his forehead the next morning in the sanisteam, hoping that it would keep the mark of her mouth from washing away.)

But Ello was dragged before Phasma and the Panel, and FN-2187 could do nothing but watch as she was asked question after question. Were you unfaithful to the Order? No. Did you misappropriate or unnecessarily reveal information about the Order? No. Did you place anything above the stormtrooper program, and its furtherance of the First Order’s goals?

And in that moment, Ello’s eyes had darted sideways, towards the crowd. FN-2187 had gone cold and hot and shivery, angry, all over, and he had no word for the feeling.

Phasma’s chrome mask had no expression, but FN-2187 imagined her mouth curling in a sneer. Guilty.

Ello was reassigned to the front lines the next day. (LO-126 had disobeyed orders, and so Phasma had used her pull with Commandant Hux to get her moved to the phalanx with the highest mortality rate, at the very edge of the battle. At least, that was the rumor—and then, when Ello died there, shot down in a hail of blaster fire, there was no one to contradict the stories.) 

The day after Ello died, Phasma came to FN-2187′s door. She was very tall, and in the gleaming mirror of her mask, FN-2187 could see only his own face staring back. Come, Phasma said, her vocoder clicking and hissing. We have much to do.

Finn went, shedding splinters of his own heart in his wake.

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Finn and The Hands of the Force

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“I live in you, in your bones; the delicate coils of your mind. I made you. I formed the thoughts you find, the moods you carry. Your blood whispers my name. Even in rebellion, you are mine.”

— Janet Fitch, White Oleander

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“(…) to be embodied was to be the altar and the flesh and the knife. Sometimes the gods just want to see what you are going to do.”

— Freshwater, Akwaeke Emezi

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Ramadan Lament, Leila Chatti

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I felt the ominous Future, coming close; chilling me, with an unutterable awe; forcing on me the conviction of an unseen Design [...]

Wilkie Collins, from 'The Woman in White'

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The Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1939

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Pink, Sylvie Baumgartel

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Moonlight dir. Barry Jenkins (2016) / The Florida Project dir. Sean Baker (2017)

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Paris Is Burning (Jennie Livingston, 1990)

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― Steve Biko

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If you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people.

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“I’m not Resistance. I’m not a hero.

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[finaltrooper]

FN-2187? You don’t remember me?

Tom Hardy’s cameo in The Last Jedi’s deleted scene: Mega Destroyer Incursion Extended.