morning raid


ICE raids in New York City, nationwide inspire protests and fear

  • By rounding up immigrants in their homes and on the street, Trump is “merely” keeping his word, he tweeted early Sunday morning. 
  • Raids by United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement, especially in sanctuary cities like New York, have people rattled.
  • “Gang members, drug dealers & others are being removed!” the president wrote. It’s the “and others” part that’s especially worrisome.
  • A leaked memo from ICE said 40 “foreign nationals” were arrested between Monday and Friday in New York City alone. (PIX11 News)
  • Of those taken into custody, the memo allegedly said, nearly 95% had criminal convictions. Read more (2/12/17 11:32 AM)
Destiny News: Local Badass Rides Sparrow All the Way to Aksis Chamber
  • Eris Morn: This is why sparrows are not allowed in my raids.
  • Lord Saladin: Well it's not that impressive. They still needed a full fireteam to get there. Well done guardians :)
  • Eris Morn: You know, rumour has it that they defeated Aksis by ramming the sparrow into his face.
  • Lord Saladin: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻
Night of the Lanterns - Cassian x Reader

Literally no one asked for this.

I was trying to write a Cassian x Reader Christmas Eve fluff. That’s how this started.

It turned into my creation of what Christmas would look like for the rebels. The Candle Ceremony. A time of mourning before 3 days of celebration. I recently lost 2 family members and this probably stemmed from that.


Pairing(s): Cassian x Reader
Words: A couple hundred?? I don’t know
Warnings: Talk of blood and death

Today, the ceremony. Tomorrow, the celebration.

This was not a day of victory, no. This morning, a raiding group returned to the rebel base missing two familiar faces. It was not a celebration of the fall of the Empire (though everyone said that it would be soon. You weren’t a child anyone. You’d believe it when you saw it.)

It was an occasion to celebrate survival. Perseverance.


There were many names for it. Nocte lucerna (night candles), from Tatoonie. Christmas (Chris meaning light and tmas mourning), from one of the planets in a distant system that you couldn’t name.

Your father used to call it the Night of the Lanterns.

Despite the ongoing war, the chaos and bloodshed and death that hung over every member of the rebellion, these 4 days seemed to bring a bit of peace and light to the encampment.

You join the winding line of people headed into the bunker, where the ceremony was held every year. Your eyes naturally scan for Cassian, finding his familiar figure within moments. He moves through the crowd towards you.

He embraces you and kisses your forehead, “You have your candle?”

“Of course.” Cassian knew the importance of the candle you held so gingerly in your hands. It had been made by your mother, days before she was shot out of the sky by an imperial ship.

Cassian tries to debrief you on your next mission but you put a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. “Not now. We can talk about the mission later.”

“I want to leave at dawn, so I need to–”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him. He lifts a hand to your face, forgetting about his previous protests to kiss you back.

You pull away and open your eyes. He keeps his closed and hums appreciatively. “Even after all this time, I’m still not used to that.” He grins.

You’d been together for almost a year, but never ceased to amaze each other.

You finally step into the bunker and suck in a breath.

A tall tower had been built that nearly reached the ceiling with shelves built in. The top 4 or 5 rows had already been filled with candles, leaving only a few at the bottom remaining.

You take a candle from the person in front of you, a pilot named Lea, and light the small candle in Cassian’s hands. “May the Force be with you.” You murmur to her.

“And with you.” She replies, words and hands shaking.

Handing Lea’s candle back, you watch as she places it gently on one of the lower shelves.

“For Anna and my mother.” She whispers, going down on one knee. Lea bows her head, rises, and joins the mass surrounding the back of the candle tower. Tears slip silently down her cheeks.

You remember your last Night with your family. Your father and mother made paper lanterns out of the bark from the trees surrounding your farm house, before the entire forest was burned to the ground. Each one of you lit one, your mother and father whispering names of fallen friends while you dedicated your flame to the sick man in the village nearby. Even at your young age, you understood the importance of these lanterns. During a time of peace, they would have served as a reminder of those who could not join the celebrations that followed in the 3 days to come. The drinking, laughing, singing and celebrating served as a way to brighten spirits and rejoice at the fact that you were all still alive. Tonight, though, you remember your dead.

You and Cassian both stare at his flame for a moment before he leans it to light yours. You turn to light the candle of the man behind you.

“May the Force be with you.” The elder murmurs in a raspy tone.

“And with you.” You respond.

Cassian places his candle and kneels, “For mami, papi, Angus, Steven and Djino.” Standing, he smiles sombrely at you, the action not quite reaching his eyes.

“For mother, father, Dyan, Lexa, Liy, Tiffa and Olivia.” You wish you could name all your comrades. You wish you could name every fallen soldier who had ever fought by your side. “This is for all of them.” You whisper.

You rise and join Cassian, intertwining your fingers with his. As the last of the rebels filter in, all lighting their candles from the same flame, silence overtakes the hall.

None of the council stand to speak. Instead, the father of one of the men who were lost this morning stands, his candle still unlit.

“This is for my son-” his voice breaks, “lost to the cause this morning. This is for my husband, dead 4 years now. This is for squad B-4, of whom I am the last survivor.
“This is for every soldier who has fought for the cause. This is for every person who dares speak out against the Empire. This is for every man, woman and child who will not live to see peace in the galaxy.”
He pauses, breathing hard. He lights his candle, kneels, and places it on the last open space.

The council begins the prayer said at every ceremony. It still draws goosebumps up your arms, even after hearing it almost every year for your whole life.

“May you once again find the peace that our nation has been starved from for so long. May our love protect you as you join the Force, in turn protecting us. May you never again see the horrors of our world.

May your sacrifice never be forgotten.”

The entire room speaks in unison

May you never be forgotten.

Silence. The entire rebellion, cramped in one room around our tower of light, standing in complete silence. This is for our fallen. We fight for them. We die for them. Our triumph will be for them.

One by one, the crowd disperses. Many leave to the bunks, while others head to the dinning hall. You and Cassian stay standing there for a moment, but finally pull away to go to sleep.

You don’t speak as you head to your shared quarters. You don’t speak as you both crawl into bed, Cassian’s arm around your waist an automatic gesture. Cassian’s breath evens out long before yours does, sleep evading you.

These are the horrors of war. Orphans. Bloodshed. Children made murders. Bodies mangled beyond recognition. Others mangled beyond repair. Paralysis. Panic. Hallucinations. Death. This is what violence does to good people. It turns them into killers, shells of the person they once were.

You remember how heartless you before you had met Cassian. He brought out in you things you had repressed for many years. Compassion. Mental strength. Self-preservation.


He brought you back.

This night, the Night of the Lanterns, is more than just remembrance. It’s recognition of our failures. It’s acceptance. It’s the power and permission to move on.

The candles are left all night under the supervision of the council, the tower not dismantled until every candle has burned out. Even after the physical light is gone, the spiritual and emotional light remains. Tomorrow will be filled with parties and laughter and joy, partial families celebrating and joining together.

But tonight, we remember.

It’s beautiful.

Your last thought before succumbing to your exhaustion:
They will never be forgotten.

@dinosaurparfait one time my friends and I went to see the Desolation of Smaug and I got so drunk I don’t remember any of the movie :^)

tina-fit2013  asked:

Hi Staranise, this is illariy from dreamwidth. I love the "this cat has no bad angle" post. Your cat is seriously gorgeous! I wonder if you could post a pic that shows her belly fur? I am obsessed with cat bellies and how soft they are :D

HIHIHI! She’s still sleepy this morning so I’m raiding my camera archives!

Destiny News: Local Badass Solos Wrath of the Machine Raid
  • Lord Saladin: ... I quit. Just... just give them the Iron Temple.
  • Eris Morn: You know, after Crota and Oryx, I picked up a hobby in growing raisins. Maybe you could find a healthy hobby too?
  • Lord Saladin: Can I just go back to the Iron Banner?
  • Eris Morn: I said healthy.

The Artist’s Wife Ethel Playing the Guitar (1910). Denys George Wells (British, 1881-1973). Oil on panel. 

Wells was a painter in oil and watercolour, whose work notably featured his wife, his collection of antiques, and the streets and buildings of London. He painted war damaged buildings in WW II the morning after air raids occurred. Wells studied at the Slade School of Art, and was Vice President of the RBA.

paris attacks : update

- the state of emergency has been extended for three months (551 in favor, 6 against, 1 abstention)

amongst all the measures taken, figure the withdrawal of an amendment allowing the government control of the press and media, but also the appearance of two noteworthy ones : the government might be able to restrict and block access to websites and social networks; for some of the people under house arrests, carrying an electronic bracelet might be a possible resort.

- the female kamikaze might have been identified (her presumed identity is Hasna Aït Boulahcen, 26 years old and has been introduced as Abdelhamid Abaaoud’s cousin) and she might have been the logistics coordinator behind the attacks.

- we just got confirmation that said man, the presumed mastermind behind the recent attacks, has been killed yesterday morning (wednesday), during the raid in Saint-Denis.


A physically and mentally disabled couple said Delaware State Police officers violently beat the husband during an early morning raid at a relative’s home.The Rehoboth Beach couple – the wife, a quadriplegic with cerebral palsy, the husband, a disabled veteran who takes medication for schizophrenia – allege in a federal lawsuit that commanders failed to train officers in the “constitutional bounds and limits concerning the use of force,” particularly in interactions with disabled people.

Ruther Hayes, was giving his wife, Lisa Hayes, a sponge bath when multiple officers forced their way into the bedroom. According the the report, Ruther attempted to cover his exposed wife, but was beaten and tasered twice by officers. Even after being told Lisa could not use her legs, officers proceeded to point their assault rifles at the disabled woman and “shouted at her to do that which she could not: stand up,” the lawsuit says.

This is disgusting.