isaacoscar:

isaacoscar:

I’m not a hero. I’m not Resistance. I’m a stormtrooper. Like all of them, I was taken from a family I’ll never know, and raised to do one thing.

THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT FUCKING NARRATIVE TO ME you were raised to be one thing you were raised to be a cog in the machine you were raised to fight and kill without question but the SECOND it came to you to do these terrible things you stood up. and you said no. years and years of training making you what they wanted you to be and still you said NO with all the strength in your shaking hands and your tear-choked throat you said no and you stood and you turned and you ran towards the light because – even if you were too small and too weak to beat down the darkness yourself (that is what they’d always told you) you could at LEAST run so fast and so far away that it could never ever again use you to hurt another person it is what anyone would do. it is what any right-thinking frightened person would do. this is what you tell yourself and you refuse to listen when people tell you that you are a miracle you are extraordinary you are – because you are just one man. you are just a cog in the machine. you know this. you are nothing special in the end. (and yet. you said no. you ran for the light.) ( via @shapechangersinwinter )

chambergambit:

don’t think about rey getting like… confused? that she’s allowed to eat as much as she pleases while with the resistance? without turning any work in? and throughout her whole meal she keeps expecting someone to announce they’ve made a mistake just GIVING HER ALL THIS FOOD FOR FREE?

don’t think about rey playing and splashing in the puddles the first time she sees it rain and getting soaked to the bone but grinning from ear to ear.

don’t think about all the resistance droids coming to rey to fix their bent antennae and whatnot until they follow her around like ducklings.

don’t do it your heart cant take it

steinbecks:

i love rey’s flowers and her doll and her helmet and her little sand sled and i love it when she licks her plate after eating her little meal of insta-bread and i love it when she puts the helmet on just for kicks and i love the way she sleds down the sand dune and i love the goggles she made out of a stormtrooper helmet and i love rey living in the iron carcass of an AT-AT and i love rey scrubbing her salvaged metal parts and glancing at the old, weathered woman across from her, wary of her own future, her hope wavering and then growing stronger still. i love her wistful, bouncy little leitmotif. i love rey