#//she might struggle against Giant Fucking Monsters

[icybreaths]

♢ -  FINAL BOSS Armor (Survival/Zombie Apocalypse au)

|| Outfit Headcanons || @criticalcrux ||

While Jewel has a handgun, it's not her go-to. She's a blades and knives kind of fighter for this AU because it forces her to get up close and personal and desensitize herself.

She keeps her hair long but for the Big Bad fight she'll braid most of it back, twist it up into a bun, and secure it with fishing line and netting.

#criticalcrux #[ my art ] #[ harbinger of the ice age ] #❆ [ clothes ] #[ resident evil au ] #//she might struggle against Giant Fucking Monsters #but she'll gladly thin a herd #thank you for sending! c:

[spicyhamsamson]

I am. So fucking tired of Batman being portrayed as a bad parent and a toxic person. And it’s so goddamn widespread. Fuck, it might be as bad as the whole “Superman being a kindhearted Boy Scout is boring” take.

I get it, the man’s not exactly stable, he watched his parents get murdered in front of him and spent years of his life training to fight crime dressed like a giant scary bat, of course he’s not perfect.

But to say that Bruce Wayne isn’t caring, isn’t empathetic, to call him abusive…it just misses the point of who the character is to me.

Why do you think he fights crime? Yes, part of it is because he’s bitter and sad because his parents were cruelly ripped from him as a child, and he’s lashing out against the corruption of his city. It’s arguably the focus of his earlier years. But he learns to become more than that. He learns to bring hope, a chance to be better.

Harleen Quinzel is the Joker’s right hand lady, but she’s also a victim of an abusive relationship and a woman with a surprisingly strong moral compass and a love for animals, and wants to get better. That’s why we see time and time again that he has a noticeable soft spot for her, because he knows that she’s a good person at her core.

Harvey Dent is a man who will decide someone’s fate on a coin toss(and a pretty inaccurate depiction of DID), but he’s also Bruce’s close friend who clearly needs help learning to live with his condition, rather than try to get rid of it, and someone who he still goes out of his way to visit, even after everything, because he recognizes he’s not just a criminal with a weird gimmick, he’s a man who is struggling with a condition that he’s mishandled his whole life.

Victor Fries is a cold, emotionless man who will callously discard allies and blame them for being careless, but he’s also a man who’s either lashing out because he had the love of his life taken from him, or just desperate to make sure she isn’t taken from him, and is willing to do anything just to guarantee her survival. Of course Batman would understand, his whole life was defined by having people he loved taken away from him.

Even the Joker, arguably one of the most morally bankrupt characters in all of fiction, is someone that Batman has offered a chance to. After the guy shoots the daughter of his friend, a girl he cared for like she was his own kid, and paralyzes her from the waist down, he tells the Joker that he doesn’t want to hurt him. He wants to get him help. He looks at this monster who has taken countless lives and says “You don’t have to be alone.”

For fuck’s sake, he sat with Joe Chill in his last moments so that he wouldn’t be alone. Joe Chill, the man who murdered his parents, who took so much from him, the person responsible for all of the misery and suffering he’s gone through. And he sits with the man to comfort him while dies. Do you know how much emotional intelligence and maturity that must take? To comfort someone who arguably ruined your life?

And you’re gonna tell me the man who did that would abuse his kids?

That he’d hold up the young man whose death was his greatest failure, the boy he grieved, and say this?

That he’d look his goddamn son in the eyes and say this to him?

Why the FUCK do you think he took in Dick Grayson in the first place? It wasn’t because he saw the kid and thought “Ah. A potential soldier.”, it was because he saw a boy experiencing the same heartbreaking loss he had so many years ago, and wanted to make sure he didn’t end up as bitter and miserable as he was.

Why do you think he smiled when Tim Drake presented him a broken watch for Father’s Day? Because he was just happy to see the boy alive and safe.

DAMIAN LITERALLY POINTED AT A COW AND SAID “I’m keeping her. She’s Bat-Cow.” AND BRUCE JUST WENT WITH IT. DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO ARGUE WHY BRUCE SHOULD LET HIM KEEP HER. HE SAID “this cow is my pet now” AND BRUCE SAID “aight, bet”.

The thing about Batman is that he wants to make sure nobody else ends up feeling the way he does. That’s not just about stopping a mugger so a boy’s parents aren’t gunned down. It’s about giving his loved ones the support and care that he couldn’t have, because it was taken from him. It’s about comforting someone who just went through a traumatic experience and letting them know that they’re going to be okay. It’s about going to someone locked away in a cell who thinks that they’re a lost cause and a burden to society and telling them that he wants to help them get better. It’s about EMPATHY and COMPASSION.

That’s what makes him a HERO. He’s meant to inspire us, to show us that we can have that same empathy for others around us, that we can turn our suffering into hope for a better future.

I just wish more people at DC would start recognizing that. But I might as well follow that example myself. Maybe through this struggle of having to see this hero mistreat the people around him and act like a grade-A jackass, people will start to recognize that missing compassion, and slowly but surely, it might come back. After all, what is this post, if not trying to bring attention to the matter in the hopes of fixing it?

#batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #Robin #Nightwing #Red Hood #Red Robin #DCAU #DC #Dc comics #Batman: The Animated Series #BTAS #The Batman Adventures #Harley Quinn #Harleen Quinzel #victor fries #Mr. Freeze #Harvey Dent #Two-Face #The Joker #The Killing Joke #Joe Chill #spi rant #haven’t used that tag in a while

[silentmoths]

Some HSR Thirsts

Because I've been fucking star-railed this last week and also I promised @dustofthedailylife that I would write a svarog thirst if she finally pulled welt. so since this exists, you can guess what happened!

Svarog/Yaoshi/Kafka x Reader

NSFW, nothing explicit perse but all very heavily implied, Robot/monsterfucking, does fucking a god cound as monsterfucking?, Svarog is a giant vibrator, Yaoshi and their many hands, also Yaoshi having an aphrodesiac venom in their scorpion tail, maybe a little implied dubcon in kafkas case? I dont...think it is but its there as a warning in case.

Ok but Svarog, who definitely knows what sex is, of course he does, he has an entire database to access, and lets face it, this man has probably already accessed it when looking up ‘how to parent’ information because at one point or another he’s going to have to give clara ‘the talk’

(no, we wont talk about how his version of the talk is going to be the most embarrassingly clinical talk ever to exist. rest in peace clara.)

But he does not, for the love of anything, understand why you want to have sex…with him.

Nonetheless, he does not stop your hands roaming his chest plates, he doesn’t really stop you from doing… anything really, because… whatever this is  makes you happy, and that’s all he wants. 

He’s confused when you ask him to touch you, but he does it anyway, all while sifting through his databanks to figure out both why and where. 

This is also the day you discover that Svarog has an… interesting vibration function in his hands that he claims was once for easing stiff muscles of his old human commanders before he was abandoned.

Yeah it’ll sure ease you alright.

Admittedly…he does like watching you squirm…it does… something to his servos.

Though, he thinks he may have created a monster, because now every day, without fail…you’re asking him for a hand. 

Perhaps one day, when he has done enough research…he might just reveal that one…extra modification that had been made to him before everything went to shit.

One day he will allow you to delve below his trousers and maybe one day he will use that…modification, to finally give you what you want, since it seems you’re unwilling to find another mortal to fornicate with.

Besides

perhaps …clara could do with a mother figure around.

----------

Some say the Aeon Yaoshi, of the Abundance, is a cruel and evil creature.

This does not stop you from seeking Their favour.

However when they finally do appear before you, you get so much more.

Six hands, long and delicate, trailing your skin as they pull you close, unearthly voice whispering in your ear, telling you they’ve heard every prayer, every plead and call for them; how they’ve been watching you all this time, and now they have come to bestow the blessing you’ve been seeking.

But only if you can endure one last trial.

In some depictions you had found, Yaoshi is endowed with a scorpion's tail, so it isn’t a shock when the appendage curls around your body, the tip pricking into your thigh. You feel the warmth of the poison spread through your body and you moan for it. Yaoshi only hums their praise 

Their venom makes you feel warm and fuzzy, it makes their touch intense and vivid, most of all…

it makes you want to give yourself over entirely

You feel hands touch places that have never been touched by another, you feel their teeth and their tongue. You hear their praises.

And then you wake, in your bed. 

At first, you think it was a dream, but then you sit up.

You were naked, your muscles ached, but it was a sweet ache, soft around the edges, and there on your thigh, where they had stung you with their venom…

the symbol of abundance

----------

Soft hands, and an even softer voice, leave you weak in the knees.

“Ready to talk yet?” Kafka muses quietly as she presses a single finger to your collarbone, and you immediately fall back against the table, your arms still bound behind your back. 

You should be struggling. You should be fighting back.

But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t incredibly turned on by the stellaron hunter who had kidnapped you, and was now apparently intent on interrogating you.

“You’ll….have to try harder than that.” you rasp, trying to sound intimidating. 

By the way Kafka’s smile widens ever so slightly, it’s failed completely, and you’re once again left reeling as she approaches, leaning over you like a cat who’s just caught their mouse.

“Will I?” her voice is so soft, and yet so very dangerous as her ruby eyes narrow in on your face “My…are we a little smitten? Your face is all red.” 

Goddamn it.

“I’d never-”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic.” She interjects as she perches on the edge of the table beside where you lay, she shoots you a look…an expression you can’t quite discern for a moment, until you realise her own eyes are raking down your body.

hungrily.

You watch her bring her hand to her mouth, teeth closing around the finger of her glove before pulling the offending article off; your heart is jackrabbiting in your chest.

“I think…” she hums as she leans back over you, magenta hair falling between you both like a waterfall. This was dangerous, so very dangerous.

But the moment her hand presses against your belly, and slowly begins its slow gaze downward, pressing shamelessly beneath the waistband of your bottoms? You’re a goner.

“I think I have other ways to make you sing that we’ll both enjoy…don't you think?”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

I will be starting a Starrail specific taglist shortly so if you want in on that let me know!

#silentmothwrites #Moth got star railed #Svarog Star rail #Yaoshi Star rail #Kafka Star rail #Svarog x reader #Yaoshi x reader #Kafka x reader #Svarog smut #yaoshi smut #kafka smut

[nonsensical-pixels]

THE LINDASIMS2 RESEARCH AND EXPERIMENTATION: PART THREE

So, as mentioned in this minor update, the hidden Sim in the accessory files was apparently a rudely-named pollination technician. Me and my Simscord besties struggled to understand just what sim was thrown in there... but we finally worked it out. Thanks to Google, I guess.

I honestly feel like this is way too dramatic for a discovery post but y'know what, I'm nonsensical-pixels. Time to do the nonsensical.

DISCLAIMER: This is not really a callout post. This is a warning to anyone who intends to download Lindasim's stuff. And a genuine one. I have nothing personal against Linda, this is only what I've found from my own deep dive into Linda's files. I have no proof that what I've found is stuff that Linda herself did, but the stuff does exist. And it's terrible.

WARNING: Some of these images contain racial slurs that may make you uncomfortable.

You can find the nails file I use for my 'research' post here. It's part of the reuploaded March 2021 set and from what I can see that entire set is a giant mess.

Credits go to Zeta_Reticuli and Yolkema for helping to dig deeper into this issue!

THE START: PT19

Yolkema was able to load a spare save with the bad CC and check what Sim Blender did when you tried to summon them.

The result: this sim. Pollination Technician 19.

Now, we were all scratching our heads, because who the fuck is PT 19? There's no such sim in the game. So we just figured that Linda had created a sim called PT 19 and threw him in for shits and giggles.

When Yolkema tried to summon the sim, however, we discovered it was impossible. The game would lag a few seconds, but the sim wouldn't appear. So Zeta_Reticuli decided to see if deleting the package file's BHAVs, which contained sim-deleting functions, would work.

THE SLURS

WARNING: This section contains racial slurs!

After Zeta loaded the game and tried to summon the sims, we were all in for quite the shock. Instead of PT19, we had... this guy! Five of him!

We all assumed that this must be due to the BHAVs being removed, since that was the only difference we saw between Yolkema's and Zeta's games. But, well, we were wrong, of course.

THE LANGUAGE DISCOVERY

Zeta went into SimPE and made a pretty interesting discovery:

The person who changed the PT's name must be using American English, because in UK English, PT 19 makes his appearance.

So, since we're all inquisitive simmers, we decided to track down just who PT19 was.

THE FACE

My original impression was that the extra GMDC with a sim's face only used Face 2, but Zeta went back and discovered that it is, in fact, a pretty alien-looking face.

The new question: why the heck would someone go through all that trouble just to inject a monster into their downloaders' CC? I mean, I'm already terrified of the non-textured image. It's a real nightmare.

THE TRUE MONSTER

Zeta thought the sim might be a downloadable alien technician, and she was right! The hidden sim in Lindasims2's nail accessory files isn't some monster cooked up in a frying pan. It's none other than PT19 from this Pollination Technician Replacement set.

Here she is in all of her alien glory.

SUMMARY

Well, it's out now folks. After hours of agonising over who TF the sim was hidden in those files, she's here. Pollination Technician 19, stolen right from pinkdynamite on MTS's replacement set.

Now, the real question: why is she there?

This seems like the most random sim to merge with accessory files, like, ever. Is this some sort of 'fuck you' to the people who download Linda's content? From what I can guess, these accessories are the same ones Linda sends to her subscribers. They're in no way different. That means that whoever downloaded Linda's March 2021 set, probably has this sim duplicated in their game.

If you're not sure if you have her and are concerned, use the Sim Blender's Teleport option and go to the Default household. Scroll through the list of names and if you see PT 19 or the slurs in the picture, yep, you've got the Nail It Virus. Or whatever you want to call it.

If you do have the Nail It Virus, do not attempt to remove the nail/character files belonging to this sim. Doing so is akin to deleting a sim from your game. I can't promise that your game is safe if you don't, but you should definitely run Hoodchecker as often as possible!

Overall, this post was made to dig deeper into the mysterious sim found in those files. I and many others were mystified by what it was. And, well, now we know.

New Sims 2 history?

#lindasims2 #s2cc #sims 2 cc #ts2 cc #important info #the lindasims research and experimentation #how do u tag these sorts of posts #sims 2 research #sims 2 alert #pt 19 #tw slurs

[furrbbyx]

This is a short story that I never finished but wanted to share. Based on the prompt "Spider"

Female spider monster x female beetle headed monster.

Sfw? Dubcon. Mention of guts, being eaten. Some description of breasts. Restraints.

Approx 1.1k words

I struggled.

I thrashed.

I gasped in fear and frustration as I realized I wasn't going anywhere. I was stuck to an impossibly large spider web.

I honestly hadn't even seen the damn thing as I flew among the Debrose forest searching for my own meal.

After I awoke in the twilight of the evening in my nest and cleaned the sleep from my eyes with the  legs on my head and my mandibles, I had decided to go hunting for a bat or bird for my meal

I needed a little excitement and a change from the fruit I'd been foraging. Lately I had been dissatisfied with everything. Like that feeling you get when it's time to molt and your carapace feels too small too itchy and uncomfortable?

Yeah that's how life was feeling.

And I was hoping a little blood lust would shake things up.

Turns out I was on the menu instead.

I clicked my jaw angrily and nearly ripped my human arm out of the socket trying to get free. Since an anansi hadn't come immediately to slurp down my guts when I'd crashed into the web I might be able to to escape.

Maybe this was an old trap I tried to to tell myself. I tried to calm down. But damn!

I looked down at the forest stretching below me trying to figure out how to get down. not a single soul among the branches. Not a good sign.

And such a  vulnerable position. I had flown face first into this damn thing. Well maybe it would be better not to see my death coming.

I chuckled and sobbed a bit.

"Oh come now, it's not that bad to be trapped in anansi's web. I think it's quite...pleasurable."

I froze. Not an old trap then. How long had that sneak been watching me? Playing with your meal is just rude!

I felt the web vibrate and swing and I rolled my eyes up to where I had thought the voice was but I couldn't quite see.

"Yes" the deep feminine voice said "What a beautiful treat."

My brain was screaming to struggle to fight but my body was not listening at all. I lay there trapped in the high branches of the Debose forest absolutely terrified.

"Tell me your name" I flinched. The voice was right behind me. I could sense the huge body of the anansi now.

I swallowed the thick lump in my throat

"Just eat me already. I don't have time for mind games before I die" I croaked. A lot bolder than I should be with a spider person standing over me, the morsel trapped in their web.

"Aww" She purred a hand ran over the smooth segments of my beetle-bodied head and down my neck. My eyes widened so much it felt like they were trying to escape my body entirely.

"Who said you were going to die?" The hand stayed on my neck and I felt her large delicate legs searching my body.

I couldn't stop the shiver that shook through me.

"I'm already full. But I don't think I can let something so pretty out of my web so soon." She whispered into my ear. A leg was slowly lifting the caterpillar silk shift I wore. Finally my body got the message and I was able to struggle against the sticky trap once again.

"What the fuck! Get your legs off me, pervert!"

She only laughed but she did move. I could barely see her huge furry abdomen perched above me through the ropey strands of the web. Her legs moved over me again turning me over and readjusting me more securely against the sticky threads.

My mandibles fell open in surprise. Above me was a giant anansi woman with the biggest breasts I had ever seen. I was so focused on the firm globes of slightly jiggling flesh with thick round nipples and large dark areolas that I forgot my terror. I was completely stunned and without a drop of her venom in my veins.

"Hello" she cooed her voice full of amusement. My eyes snapped up to her face and I was stunned again. A gorgeous sculpted oval face with two sets of glittering black almond shaped eyes was looking down at me. Her full lips curved around long fangs and sharp pointed teeth  that filled her mouth and made her jaw look over large. Above her thin arched brows were intricate ritual scars that seemed to mimic a crown.

"Queen anansi?" I squeaked out.

"Mmm, yes." She reached down and stroked my head legs. "Are you comfortable my little one?"

"Uh" my thoughts had not caught up with my mouth yet. She was impressive. Her thick torso and slightly rounded belly flowed into her furred and tapered abdomen, where she rested her strong muscled arms and her even stronger looking segmented legs perched on the web.

I gulped. If I wasn't going to be dinner I was certainly going to be breakfast. There were so many tales about the anansi people down in the lower forest. Of course they were considered tricksters and magicians  but I suddenly remembered stories of how the queen's bite was so potent it would make you fall in love with her while it liquefied your insides but you were so sick with wanting and lust your barely noticed and you actually orgasmed while she sucked you dry. I mean it's horrific right? so why was I suddenly feeling some anticipation.

I tried to shake my head to clear my thoughts. "Uh" I cleared my throat and tried again. "My wing... is bent a little oddly" I said my voice very high.

She tsked and leaned over me blocking out the moonlight with her body and adjusted my wing beneath me, her legs were roaming again and my anticipation increased.

Wow, those tits I thought, then cringed mentally. ARGH no! what is going on here. Ten minutes ago I was scared of being eaten now...I wanted her to eat me out?

I wanted to slap myself back into reality.

"Hmm you're a bit flighty aren't you? Let me just..." she used her foremost legs to pull my arms together above my head then lifted on her back legs to unwrap some more ropey threads from her spinnerets and bound my hands.

I was doomed for sure.

She crawled down lowered her body beside me

"Your name?"

"I'm Afua, Queen anansi" I breathed quietly. I couldn't look away from her black eyes.

"Afua, hmm?" she lifted her hand to my neck again squeezing slightly before moving it lower over my collarbone. I felt her legs again teasing the hem of my shift.

"I don't think I've ever caught something so beautiful in my web."

#terato #teratophillia #monster smut #monster fucker #monster girlfriend #lesbian #monster x reader #monster x monster #tw monsterfucking #monster lover #furrbbyx #gay

[closingwaters]

PARTIES: @rhythmicmeow @closingwaters

SUMMARY: Teagan crosses paths with a hellhound on her run, and lucky for her Leticia also shares that habit and stepped in with her spirit to help. Teagan then patches Leticia up with some spice at the end.

TIMING: Current

WARNINGS: None

Sunset was both the best and the worst time to go running. The temperature of the town went down as Leticia’s pulse went up, but the shadows grew longer and more unusual. Things in Wicked’s Rest were never as they seemed, and as the shadows grew closer, Leticia ran faster, the fear of what might be lurking darkness was an excellent motivator. The monsters she conjured in her mind that were following her were nothing compared to reality. 

In the silence between songs, Leticia heard a growling sound. Low and menacing, but far enough away that, while her heart rate spiked, she reasonably convinced herself that she could turn around and avoid the danger all together. Pivoting with every intention of running back home and ending things early, she heard another sound. Not the same growling threat, but a person. 

Leticia pulled out her headphones and listened closely, losing her control on the balam spirit to heighten her senses. A woman. And a werewolf? No. That sound was different. As she sorted what she thought it was, Leticia was running in the direction of the fighting, knowing full well that whatever that woman was fighting, it wasn’t a normal dog. 

The winter breeze was absent, taken hostage by the late spring air that was easy to accept. Warmer weather meant it was easier to withstand getting in and out of the lake with no bite to attack Teagan as she stepped out. With a sigh, she slipped on her running shoes, placing her phone in her pocket. She played classical music with a higher tempo on speaker, enough to give her a workout, but not so much as to wear her out too quickly. No need for something so physically demanding when the run was meant for leisure.

The nix’s heart was pounding as the run went on, the exertion forcing it to peak. Until, suddenly, Teagan’s heterochromic eyes fell onto something dark. Her stride came to an abrupt halt and glowing red orbs stared back with a growl. Teagan struggled to stop her music, dropping the phone just as quickly as she clicked the pause button. 

The creature was large. A canine. A hellhound. “Fuck,” She whispered harshly to herself. 

All she had was her knife, which she took out, wielding it tightly. Push came to shove, Teagan had her claws too, and she’d make it all work. She had no other choice, it seemed. The hound was already lunging toward her, landing it atop Teagan as they both thrashed on the ground, fighting for control.

Fuck. The woman’s voice carried and Leticia started rehearsing the game plan in her mind, hoping against all the odds that the jaguar would hold onto those last thoughts before she let it have full control. It didn’t take her long to find the woman and the beast. The hellhound’s focus was solely on the woman on the ground, she was skilled with a knife. No, it was more than that, she looked like she knew what she was doing and what she was fighting. 

Tossing her phone to the ground and a failsafe for the woman in case the jaguar was less than cooperative after, “Hold him there! And try not to move around too much!” It was all Leticia could think to warn before running full speed towards the beast. The hellhound made eye contact with Leticia moments before an animalistic roar tore through her throat. The jaguar took her place seamlessly, paws replacing the hands she had outreached moments earlier, both landing on the side of the hellhound, gripping deep into the flesh of the other beast.

The jaguar moved carefully, circling in tandem with the hellhound. For now, her predator focus was directed at the hellhound, and not the woman nearby. 

The hellhound caught whiff of the animal sizing it up, growl catching in its throat as its eyes locked onto the giant feline. It wasn’t a hitch out of fear as far as Teagan could tell from her perspective on the ground, the hound’s heavy paw burning into her chest. If anything, it looked perplexed and maybe even a little excited at the prospect of a fight with another animal. 

Teagan seemed all but forgotten as the paw on her chest moved away and walked away. Confused, she flipped over on her stomach and saw what caught the hound’s attention. “A…is that a jaguar…?” Teagan asked herself, a bit perplexed. A ferocious bark echoed out of the hellhound’s chest, hackles raised. The nix groaned quietly, thankful for the moment of reprieve that the feline gave her. Hopefully it wouldn’t find her appetizing enough to change focus, though.

Each step the jaguar too had purpose, drawing an invisible circle in the area around them as it paced, analyzing the movements of the hellhound, waiting for a weakness to present itself. This was no typical beast that she was facing, this was a challenge that required precision and patience, and the jaguar had plenty to spare. It had been too long since she had run through the forests and hunted. 

Lunging towards the other creature, the jaguar swiped with its claws, attempting to cut the hellhounds flesh on its shoulder. She landed on her paws next to the woman, roaring a warning to the hellhound — and a taunt. It should run away if it wanted to live. But that would make it cowardly. Her head turned toward the woman, she wasn’t a threat, but the jaguar bore her teeth at her anyway. A warning for her too. 

Fear during battle wasn’t uncommon. A real warrior used it to their advantage, took it as an energy and repurposed it. What Teagan was experiencing though, was vastly different than one’s usual, run in the mill fear. It was abject terror. Fighting people was one thing, but how in Fates would she fend off a jaguar once the hellhound either ran off or died in battle? 

Supernatural or not, the feline seemed vastly worse. Then Teagan remembered…wasn’t there a woman that called out just before the jaguar pounced? Where was she? She had told the fae to hold the hellhound in place, and then poof, beast. There was no fear in the tone either. Teagan could only guess that the stranger was either controlling it from afar or was the jaguar itself. 

With a swallow, Teagan crawled backwards, watching the two beasts compete in their battle of wits. It felt like hours by the time the hellhound’s growls died in its throat and it began to back away. The nix let out a silent breath, thankful that the situation might grow calm. 

It was akin to a dance. The two beasts move with intent and ferocity, but like most couple dances, eventually someone had to give way to let the other lead. The jaguar was relentless, identifying weak spot after weak spot and with laser precision, hitting those marks. During this dance, she had carved out her territory, pushing the hellhound back over an invisible line and then attacking only when the hellhound crossed it. 

The lesson was short, the hellhound had been worn down from the intensity of the battle and the jaguar showed no signs of relenting. The only hope to survive this encounter was to flee it, and the beast did just that. She sat on the other side of her invisible line, watching the other beast sulk off into the shadows. The woman sitting on the ground had not been forgotten, the jaguar turned her head and investigated her from afar. 

She had made no moves toward the jaguar during the battle, in fact, she had slowly moved back. Sniffing dramatically, the jaguar kept her head high, accepting the submission of the woman. Satisfied with the work that had been done, the beast stretched her limbs and sprawled out on the ground. The transformation was slow, the jaguar didn’t like giving up control all at once, she gave it back in pieces and enjoyed the sun on her coat while she drew it out. 

Minutes passed before Leticia was the one on the ground. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she winced. The wounds weren’t deep or threatening, but her body ached. The woman. The worries she had before the transformation came in a wave. She whipped her head around. “You’re still here?” Her mind was still buzzing with adrenaline, her words tumbled out quickly, pausing barely long enough to breathe between her words. “Are you okay? That was really dangerous. Are you hurt?” 

Teagan’s eyes widened, unable to tear away from the transformation taking place in front of her. She’d heard of people holding two spirits in one body, but never had she bore witness to such beauty. It was mesmerizing, and had it not been for the wounds on the woman’s body, Teagan likely would have made a move—a subtle one, of course. But such a moment called for focus, and the nix wouldn’t lose it. 

“You’re hurt.” She whispered, rolling her lips over her teeth nervously. “I can help you. My-my cabin isn’t far from here.” Teagan took a deep breath, standing up slowly with her hands up to show she meant no harm. “Or we can stay here. Whatever makes you feel…safer.” And didn’t unleash the jaguar again. As helpful as it was with getting rid of the hellhound, the beastly feline certainly looked at her as if it could change its mind at any given moment. 

“And, um—” Teagan pressed down her cuticles nervously, standing in place until she was told she could move closer. “My name is Teagan. I’m—I’m fae. So…your secret is safe too. Can’t have humans knowing we exist all willy-nilly.”

The wounds could have been worse, Leticia had thought to say, but the truth was that worse would have been dead. Hellhounds were not known for their mercy when someone encroached on their territory. And with the adrenaline blinding all her normal senses, maybe it was worse than she currently felt. “A little,” she admitted sheepishly, waiting for the penny to drop. 

This woman had seen her transform, had watched the entirety of the battle, and kept a wide birthe. All natural responses, but would she keep the secret out of fear or respect? Or would this end up as another whisper in the streets of Wicked’s Rest? All things that she should have considered before jumping into the fire. The expressions of surrender didn’t satisfy Leticia in the way it was likely intended. A bubble of guilt and concern threatened to spill out in an apology, but she swallowed the words. Not wanting to show any weakness. 

But she was a fae. The tension in Leticia’s shoulders dropped. Exhaling, she nodded. “Your cabin would be an excellent place.” Better for both of them. The hellhound was gone for now, but that didn’t mean this location was safe or private. “I’m Leticia,” she offered, slowly pushing herself off the ground and finding her balance. “And,” Leticia paused, trying not to laugh at herself for almost thanking her like she had Siobhan. “I appreciate your help.” 

The relief, the way the weight rolled off of Leticia’s shoulders made Teagan smile wistfully. Being saved from a painful demise wasn’t a common occurrence, but even she knew that begged some sort of reward. “Pleasure, Leticia.” The name felt funny on Teagan’s tongue, Latine names not something she was used to. She did her best, though and found that she quite liked the name. It was pretty, making it almost a pity that she owed Leticia a favor. 

“I owe you,” Teagan closed the distance and pulled the woman’s arm over her shoulders. “If I ever do anything—ow…” The nix winced. In the midst of all her wonder and awe, she had forgotten about her own wounds. She almost let out a chuckle, but another sting of pain forced a small yelp out instead. “Sorry. I’m okay. Just a little pain.” Her smile was reassuring, and she helped Leticia begin the trek to the cabin as she talked. 

“Keep the favor or don’t. It’s up to you. But it’s there. You didn’t have to help me and you did. Promises and favors are important to fae, so I hope you cherish it.” Teagan could see the cabin in the distance, and she readjusted her hold on Leticia, ensuring she wouldn’t fall.

“Just a little more. Are you doing okay?”

Leticia’s gut reaction was to say that Teagan didn’t owe her anything, the idea of being owed anything or owing anything herself had always felt odd. But her thoughts were interrupted when Teagan expressed her own pain. Concern coupled with a frown touched her features. “It’s a good thing we’re both headed toward safety then,” she commented lightly, trying to dampen the extreme emotions that were coming as the adrenaline wore off. 

Steadying her breathing, Leticia was quiet as Teagan explained that the favor was owed and it was up to her if she accepted it or not. Again, her first thought was that she didn’t want a favor, she didn’t like the idea of anyone binding themselves to her, especially after her own accidental binding. But the way it was presented to her now as vastly different from her first impression. It was, as Teagan had said something to be cherished.

“I won’t abuse it.” Though Leticia was appreciative and didn’t want to offend Teagan by disregarding it, she wanted to make sure that Teagan knew she could be trusted with this. 

Leticia nodded her head in response, “I’m good,” she replied. “Glad you stayed, actually. I figured you would have cleared out as soon as we were distracted.” 

“Glad I stayed, too.” Leticia was far from the typical person. Sure, many people took heed of warnings when it came to the sanctity of fae deals, but there was something about using the word abuse. Leticia made her intentions clear, which wasn’t something Teagan was used to from a stranger. It made her chest warm and sent a shiver down her spine. There was excitement there at being understood, or at the very least, respected. That was a basic principle that seemed lost, but not with Leticia, it seemed. 

“All right,” Teagan groaned softly at the effort it took to walk up a small hill. Her body screamed for rest, but she needed to get Leticia cleaned up and bandaged. “We’re here.” Shifting both women’s weight, Teagan retrieved her key and unlocked the door. A homey cabin welcomed the two, plants and the smell of previously baked goods filling the space. 

“Just gonna get you all cozy right here and then I’m gonna grab some supplies, okay?” Teagan helped Leticia settle onto the couch, quickly running off and returning with a cluster of different materials to help her new friend. She placed everything down on the table, and plucked a treat she tossed in with the array of supplies to get something in Leticia’s stomach. “Start munching on this, dearie. It’ll help. Then when you’re done, I’ll get to work. How’s that sound?”

Steading herself on the threshold of Teagan’s home, Leticia leaned away from the other woman, trying to spare her the weight that she had been willingly holding up the entire way here. The small noises of pain hadn’t gone missed. In one hand, worry had started to set in, wondering how much damage Teagan had been subjected to before she had come onto the scene, but in the other hand, the other woman had been honest and communicative so far, was there any reason to worry there was more damage than what could be seen? Closing her eyes, Leticia decided to trust the other to know her limits. 

The door opened and as they moved again, Leticia opened her eyes and took in the inside of the cabin. It was warm and welcoming, and everything that Leticia missed about home. She took in a sharp breath as she was guided to the couch, forgetting herself for a moment in the comfortable feeling of familiarity. 

The scene changed quickly, Teagan moving items around on the table and setting up supplies before handing her a snack. “Dearie?” Leticia repeated before taking a bite. “First time anyone has called me that.” There was a hint of amusement in her words. “Didn’t realize we already skipped to the nickname stage.” 

Leticia was spry, of the intuitive sort, and was quick with a quip. If only the two of them had met in a club or a bar. Teagan would’ve made fast work of finding some way to steer a conversation into her bedroom, but she couldn’t do that without her conscience eating at her. Leticia needed her help, and Teagan wouldn’t turn a blind eye to her, nor would she let her own attraction distract her from her task. 

But she could joke around as she worked, couldn’t she?

“Call all the cute ones dearie. Hope you don’t mind.” Teagan bit her lip, holding back a chuckle as she removed bandages from the medical box. “Now, if you’ll be so kind, dearie, please remove that blouse so I can tend to those nasty wounds.” Teagan looked away for a moment, realizing how it might sound. “I won’t stare. Just need to be able to clean them and bandage them.”

“All the cute ones?” But the comment didn’t dampen the smile on Leticia’s face. It provided a welcome distraction from the pain. Relief‌ came in more ways than one. The hint of a laugh that escaped her caused her to grimace. Her hand tightened into a fist, riding out the pain before nodding her head at the instructions, not thinking too much about it until Teagan drew attention to the words. 

“I wouldn’t take you for the type,” Leticia offered before moving to remove her shirt. “A cheap trick and a treat?” She shook her head. The subtle distractions they were using to cope with the situation was one thing, but Teagan had given her no reason to doubt her integrity. So, she opted to trust her. Only time would tell if she placed her trust in the right hands, but she was confident. Without the fabric hiding the damage, she could finally see what was hurting. They weren’t fatal wounds but looking far worse than they were, Leticia still felt strange seeing her body like that. “Christ.”

The tightened fist built a pressure in the nix’s chest, brows furrowing with worry. Teagan couldn’t help herself when she reached out, cupping Leticia’s fist in her hands. “Sorry, lass. Just breathe. It’ll pass.” And it did. Teagan could tell when Leticia managed to wriggle out of her top. She helped as much as she could, guiding the garment up the balam’s arms carefully. 

Leticia was right. Christ. Or rather, Fates. Her wounds looked worse upon closer inspection. Teagan winced visibly, her hands hovering with a wet cloth over one particularly bloody gash. “This might sting. Feel free to squeeze my shoulder when that happens.” Taking hold of Leticia’s hand, Teagan guided it to her shoulder, planting it firmly there before getting to work on the wounds. 

With an experienced hand, Teagan wiped away the blood, closing what she could with butterfly bandages. She was surprised to see she only needed to do a few minor stitches. For a while, for the entirety of the cleanup really, Teagan wondered how often Leticia was wounded to such a degree. She had no room to judge—not that she was—but Teagan found herself wounded more often than not. 

Frankly, she understood jumping in and letting her body be marked for the sake of someone’s safety. It wasn’t ever fun, but it was worth it. Did Leticia feel the same way? Was Teagan worth it? Probably not, but that didn’t matter. The cleanup was done. 

“Okay. You’re right as rain—or will be. Nothing was too deep, luckily. Think you’ll just be sore for a bit.” Seeing a rogue piece of hair stuck to blood she missed on Leticia’s face, Teagan carefully pulled it away and wiped the area clean. She lingered a moment, blinking and stuttering back. “Um…do you want to rest here? Or do you need a ride home?”

The momentary comfort was unexpected, but not unwanted. Leticia focused her attention on Teagan and did her best to follow the other’s breathing pattern. It would pass. It was just a moment. Her hand was gently guided to Teagan’s shoulder, and she closed her eyes once more in preparation, not wanting to look at her directly in the eyes when the pain hit again. 

There was something horrifically vulnerable about the position she was in, and Leticia hadn’t thought about it until she was gritting her teeth and avoiding Teagan’s eyes. She had done plenty of stupid things in the past, but running out to fight a hellhound for someone who could have been human was on the highest ladder of thoughtless decisions. One stitch started and her grip tightened only for her to forcibly loosen up. 

As the stitches were finished, Leticia dropped her hand to her side and adjusted herself, feeling horribly stiff. “Sorry, I’m such a baby,” she laughed, the pain this time was barely bleeding through. “I don’t do this often.” Teagan moved closer to move the hair from her face and Leticia paused, watching her carefully. “Getting stitches I mean. Well, and fighting wild animals. Not my lifelong hobby, so.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to promise that this wouldn’t be a habit of showing up to help people and ending up on Teagan’s couch or if she was trying to express disappointment that this was the end. 

“If I stay, does that count as my favor?” A joke, but there was a quiet desire to stay. To give herself a chance to rest, Leticia told herself. The company was just a bonus. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t ask anything else of you.” 

Every flinch from Leticia prompted the frown on Teagan’s visage to deepen. She knew she was doing what was needed, but it didn’t make the task any easier. Regardless, she was happy when it was all over, especially when Leticia was able to crack a joke. “Not a baby. I still whine when I have to patch myself up. Feeling pain is good sometimes. Proves you’re alive.” 

With a warm and careful pat to Leticia’s knee, Teagan put away the supplies and set her kit aside, nodding away at what she felt was an awkward moment. She never was good at keeping things soft and intimate. Her nature was much too rough for that. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes, like right then, she could be a comfortable pillow. 

“Nah, this doesn’t count. This was the right thing to do. You still have the favor. Cash it in whenever you like.” Teagan shimmied her way onto the couch to sit next to Leticia. She leaned in ever so slightly, hand still carefully on Leticia’s lap. “And you can stay. I…let all the cute ones stay.”

It proves you're alive. The smile was coming easier now, the pain subsiding to something closer to annoyance. “You have to patch yourself up often?” Leticia asked, a hint of concern that this was a regular occurrence for Teagan. The humor wasn’t lost on her though, she was still unnaturally worried about a person she had just met.

Her hands rested on top of Teagan’s. In the past, she would have pulled away immediately. Added a clear boundary about how close she would allow people around her. Intimacy wasn’t something that she easily offered, but that was in the past, wasn’t it? She wasn’t on stage anymore, and Teagan had nothing to gain from spending any more time with her than what she already had. This wasn’t about the publicity. This was simple. Leticia’s hands gently tightened around Teagan’s. Maybe she could do simple. 

Leaning forward, not enough to close the distance, but enough to show intent. “I can stay,” Leticia repeated. “I hope to earn a different adjective though. Cute doesn’t quite match the vibe I’m going for.” 

“I get myself into trouble quite often. Can’t help it. Too much fun not to, ya know?” Teagan bit her bottom lip and shook her head with amusement. Despite the peril the two found themself not long ago, everything felt so simple then. Soft, even. Teagan, as always, couldn’t help herself. She was too selfish not to. 

“What vibe do you want, then?” Teagan smiled coyly, eyes glancing at Leticia’s lips. “Because I do have a few more adjectives. Especially after putting you back together.” She chuckled, confidence unwavering. “Couldn’t help myself, I’m afraid. You’re gorgeous. Is that all right with you, lass?” Inching closer, Teagan could feel the warmth of Leticia’s lips hovering over hers. 

She was impossibly close, but still not daring to close the distance fully. As much as she wanted to. Fact was, Teagan loved bedding women, but she always held respect for them. Especially when she brought them home under a completely different pretense. 

“It’s fun until it stings.” Leticia huffed a laugh. She’d have to leave her number in case Teagan needed some stitches herself in the future. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to Teagan, and she was well versed with a quick stitch up, but she chose not to look too closely. Any more analyzing she’d talk herself out of her thinly veiled excuse for a call me note. 

“Hm,” she hummed, watching Teagan carefully. “Maybe I can earn a nickname all my own.” Leticia held her breath as Teagan moved closer, the smile on her face had all but vanished, just a hint of a smirk in the corner of her lips remained. “Perfectly alright.” 

It was all the invitation that Leticia needed. One of her hands came up to Teagan’s shoulder and pulled her closer. Pressing her lips to Teagan’s, she opened her mouth, inviting more. The sting of the stitches was all but forgotten. If anything tore, she was sure Teagan would help fix it later. 

#wickedswriting #writings #waving words #hot blooded #leticia and teagan

[corabbit]

Friendly Giant Au (Ocean Edition)

--

So basically, the scene where Puffy gets thrown off of her boat when feeding Foolish some of the meat (I vaguely remember you writing something for that). Foolish does end up catching her and the rest of the meat in his mouth, and since the food is pretty small compared to the normal food he catches, he just swallows everything whole, Puffy included.

Thankfully, Foolish has two stomachs linked together, one leading to the other, so Puffy doesn't get sent to the acidic stomach as soon as she travels down. The first stomach is empty, while the second is the actual stomach.

So as soon as he feels some sort of squirming from his first stomach, he realizes what happened with a sense of horror.

("If he had lungs, he would have taken a shuddering inhale of air as he felt something collide against his first stomach's wall, over and over. He vaguely registers himself searching the waters around him, along with the deck above of any sign of Puffy. Gods, please don't be what he dreaded. He saw no sign of her, and his attention all but shot back to the struggling pre- fuck off, instincts- Puffy's squirming figure.")

That horror is nothing compared to what Puffy is going through at that moment. She's practically hyperventilating at that moment, her thoughts speeding by, faster than the speed of light.

("Fuck, fuck, fuck- She struggled against the tugging muscles in vain as it coerced her panicked body down, the strong flesh unaware and uncaring for her terror. Would he even notice she was in here? By Primes, she was going to die, wasn't she?")

He immediately tries to calm the sailor down, spitting her back out with a heaving chest, and he's quick to drop her back onto the ship and ask if she's okay. Puffy... well, Puffy needs a break from seeing Foolish's sharp, brandishing teeth, and the leviathan is more than okay with letting her have some distance- he, too, needing some time alone.

--

Oogh,,, I'm currently way too tired to think coherently so oop,,,

If I still have the energy tomorrow, I might send my Giant House Au thing too chhdxkcvkfjx

Stay hydrated and don't be like me, forcing myself to stay awake just a tad longer to write /Lh

Notes: WEND MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED I ADORE THIS!!! Your writing is amazing as always and I love how you write the characters :] pls take my love 💙

The Aftermath

Foolish watched from below the water’s edge as a small ship pushed its way steadily across the water. Soft waves pushed it back and forth, but there was nothing he needed to worry about. His people were safe. And more importantly his person was safe.

At least safer than she was with him.

His fins lashed out in frustration as he watched the vessel float along clumsily. If he squinted enough he swore he could just barely make out the shadowy form of the captain at the head of the ship.

At the sight his heart ached to swim to the surface. He wanted to see her smile and talk to her like they always did. He ached for their late night conversations and to feel her curl up in his hand as he floated around; aselfish part of him demanded that he do just that.

But he’d hurt her.

He’d really hurt her.

And he enjoyed it.

As much as he wanted to convince himself he wasn’t the monster he was supposed to be, in the moment he had basked in the feeling of something warm, something struggling, inside of him. Even though it was his dearest friend a primal part of him had been delighted by the idea of live prey. That part could barely stand to let her go.

Foolish shook his head quickly, the sharp slap of water against his skin broke through the primal urge to consume that was slowly clawing its way to the front of his brain.

He couldn’t think like that.

He would keep Puffy safe no matter what. Even if it meant keeping her safe from himself.

#tw vore #Wendy ask #corywrites #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #friendly giant noms #g!foolish #t!puffy #TES WEND THANK YOU

[dapandapod]

Jaskier needs a hug

Honestly, @the-glorious-half-pints-twin, this started out as your prompt and morphed into something else. Im intending to write your prompt more properly because it’s super cute ang got Soft Potential that I crave.

But this is not what brain did today, so this is looooooosely based on your prompt, with another on it’s way. 

In the mean time, please have goofy random cuddles with a Dramatic Jaskier and Geralt with.. kind of a sense of humor?

Anyway, please enjoy!   On Aoe here!

                                                      ~~*~~ 

It’s been weeks. Months. Years.

Yes, Jaskier is dramatic, what do you want?! Point is, Jaskier needs a hug. Just a hug. Arms around him, or his arms around somewhere else. He isn’t fuzzy, but frankly, there isn’t too much to hug around these parts. 

All the good ladies are taken (it’s not much of a problem but Geralt uses that unhappy frown on him for days if he goes for it), most of the men lack most of their teeth (not really required for hugging, but that is usually not their only problem) and in general, most people he met wanted hugs to go somewhere behind closed doors.

Not that Jaskier minds, but he really, really just wants a hug.

What’s left in options is various monsters, trees, Roach and that one Witcher that accompanies her. Yes, he is talking about Geralt, keep up. 

Monsters, depending on the kind, would probably give him a great hug. Only once though, because he would likely die from it. To be honest, the trees weren't so bad. The trick is to choose correctly, and when Geralt comes looking for him he claims he is lost. It worked twice, after that Geralt tied a rope around his middle to keep him from straying. If he tries to hug Roach he will meet one out of two outcomes. If not both.

Roach will bite him. Or Geralt will bite him. 

And that likely applies if Jaskier actually would work up the nerve to actually try to hug that giant frown of a man.

So yes, Jaskier is grumpy, Jaskier is dramatic, and Jaskier wallows in these two moods and expresses it like an artform. Drapes it around his being like a fashionable cape. Swirls it around himself as he turns, dazzling all around him with grump and drama.

He really doesn’t expect Geralt to pick up the root of the problem. That might not even be what is going in, but three days into moping (because let’s be honest, that’s what this is) Geralt tires of the entire thing.

They are watering Roach just a little way off the main road. Jaskier is sighing loudly, kicking at the leaves and high grass and anything that happens to stick up.

He still has the rope around the middle, courtesy of his latest try to hug a tree, and suddenly there is a tug.

“Stop.”

Tug.

“Quit it.”

Tug tug.

“Fucking… What?? Geralt??” Jaskier turns around, all flare, to give Geralt a taste of that glare he may or may not try to be copying from said witcher.

There is this really tacky dance move Jaskier has seen at very very late night festivals. When one person refuse to dance, and the other pretends to pull at a rope to bring them to the dancefloor.

Picture this, but nobody is dancing and there is actually a rope.

Geralt is pulling Jaskier closer, looking all serious and stone faced and how else you wish to describe that dumb dumb face of his.

“What are you- Why?! What are you doing?” Jaskier doesn’t struggle, but he doesn’t really cooperate either. Just like that dance move he ends up being dragged over to Geralt.

They stand only an arms width away from each other, Roach moved from the creek to graze at the grass, ignoring them completely.

Jaskiers pulse speeds up. Last time Geralt asked him to come closer and Jaskier blindly complied, he earned himself a punch in the gut. On the other hand, this time Geralt physically pulled him closer.

Should he...possibly.. maybe try to hug Geralt?

Before he gets the chance to try, Geralt grabs his shoulders with both hands and looks at him gravely.

“Jaskier.”

“Yes?”

“You stink.”

And toss him straight into the creek.

It’s not very deep, but it’s enough to completely soak him as he falls face first. He swallows one big mouthful of muddy water, he spits and coughs with loud protests and moaning.

“THIS IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME SMELL BETTER?! ARE YOU DAFT?!” 

He rises from the creek like a water hag, water dripping from all of his expensive clothes. He marches straight up to Geralt, heart set on revenge.

Yeah, Geralt weighs a ton. Have you seen the guy? He is huge, and even if he isn’t traveling in his armor it is impossible to get a good grip. Geralt is entirely too good at steering off attacks.

Fine.

Jaskier doesn’t fear death.

So he marches straight back into that creek.

Falls into it, hugs it if you will, and turns around again all soaking wet.

Take aim.

Launch.

And throws himself at Geralt. Not in the intent of trying to push Geralt in the water, but with the intent to bring as much water on Geralt as he can. Like a sponge.

Either Geralt did not anticipate this course of action, or he accepted it. Kind of.

There is some slapping and flailing but then Jaskier presses himself against Geralt's side, wrapping his arms around his chest and clenching that stupid (and STINKY, Geralt! Take a bath!!) tunic and soaking it as best he can.

“Hah!” Jaskier is so pleased with himself, he throws a leg around Geralt and dries himself off like a dog on grass, rubbing his hair and face against Geralt's shoulder.

So it takes him a moment to realize that Geralt is laughing.

He stops, looks up in wonder. No, not looking, staring. Geralt is laughing, throwing his head back that gives him that adorable little double chin. 

Jaskier doesn’t let go.

Of course not. This is way better than hugging a tree. 

“Done moping now? Idiot.” Geralt puts a hand on his forehead and shoves him off. Jaskier is too busy staring at that smile to struggle. There are wet patches on his tunic so Geralt takes it off in a smooth motion.

“What do you say, we make camp here for today? Wash our clothes and clean up? I'm sure they will put away the pitchforks in the village if we don’t announce ourselves by smelling. ...Uh. Earth to Jaskier? Hellooo?” 

Jaskier is not done staring. Smiles and bare chest will do that to a man. But he closes his mouth at least, so that is an improvement.

It takes a few minutes to get his brain functions back.

During that time Geralt takes off Roaches gear and she goes a bit further away to find more tasty things to eat.

They actually get around to bathe and clean their clothes. They bask in the warm sun, laying in the grass and just enjoy the nature around them and each other's company.

Jaskier seeking revenge probably doesn’t count as a hug, but he will take it. It feels a bit better and he is ready to hang the Cloak of Dramatics on the rack for a while and just enjoy the moment.

But again, Geralt surprises him.

As they prepare for settle in for the night, rolling out their bedrolls (with a respectable distance, thank you very much) Geralt sits against a tree and leans back.

Again, Geralt tugs him closer. This time by the tunic that he got to borrow, pulling him straight down between Geralt's knees and capturing him in a bear hug. 

Two hugs. In one day.

“Uh… Geralt?”

Jaskier doesn’t dare to move, not daring to wrap his arms around the witcher. They are chest to chest, Geralt holding him in an iron grip.

“Yes?” Geralt mutters, holding him just a little closer.

“Are you.. Why are you hugging me?”

It feels like his chest is swelling three sizes, a tingling sensation spreading through his limbs, closely followed by a warmth. 

“I'm not.”

It’s Jaskiers time to chuckle.

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm.”

Geralts offers up absolutely nothing, but Jaskier now dares to let his arms circle around Geralt's shoulder with a soft sigh. Not the restless, dramatic and grumpy kind that he did before, but a content exhale. 

“I really needed this.” Jaskier admits to Geralt's shoulder There is no way he is telling Geralt, he has been behaving really badly today.

“No shit. I absolutely didn’t notice you hugging everything in your immediate vicinity.” Geralt drawls sarcastically. 

Geralt's warm, callused hand finds its way under Jaskiers tunic. Little electric sparks climbing up his spine and he buries his head in Geralt's neck.

Up until this very point, this could very much be something one friend does for another.

Still could be.

But also not.

And if there is one thing Jaskier wouldn’t mind, it’s that. 

Only, he is afraid it will go away if he points it out. 

Jaskier has seen it one too many times before.

And Geralt is the one person he does not wish to lose. His heart is beating hard, with every breath he takes in the (now much better) smell of his friend, breathing him in deep.

“Are you sniffing me?” Shit.

“No.” Jaskier says and yelps when Geralt pinches his side.

“Fine, fucking… yes. So what. You smell good.”

Geralt falls weirdly quiet and Jaskier has time to have a small internat panic attack and prepare to be shoved away.

“You can sniff me if you want.” Geralt says quietly.

They are stock still in each other's arms. It’s an odd thing to do, an odd thing to say. Jaskier finally caves and pushes his face a little deeper in the crook of Geralt's neck.

Geralt's hands climb higher over Jaskiers' back, and he leans his head against Jaskiers.

“You smell good too.” Jaskier almost dies. “Well. Now you do. Before the bath, not so much.”

“Fuck you.” Jaskier chuckles.

“Nah. Would be real awkward in the morning.” Geralt says, and again they both freeze. Yeah, this is one weird night.

They don’t say anything more after this. Just sits there under the tree, listening to the evening birds and Roachs munching in the distance. 

And if they pulled their bedrolls closer together, and slept with their legs tangled, and woke up too warm curled together, that is just what friends do for each other when you feel lonely.

Probably not.

But that is not a conversation they are ready to have.

For now, there are only hugs.

#the witcher #geraskier #hugs #cuddling #possibly platonic #possibly not platonic #i don't even know anymore #funny #i am in a very fluffy mood #fluff #kind of #dapanda writes #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jaskier the bard #julian alfred pankratz #geralt x jaskier #witcher geralt #its 1.30 am #someone please tell me to stop #i keep doing this #i have work tomorrow #im lying #please let me write more #good night

[therosefrontier]

Whumptober Day 4

No. 4 - TRUST FALL

“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

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Genshin Impact | Diluc, Kaeya, and Mondstadt’s resident dragon friend

(crossposted to AO3)

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“Well, what a surprise this is, you asking me for help? You must be really desperate, then.”

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m not asking for your help tonight; I’m only asking for this one favor.”

“So, you play hero and I watch from the sidelines? Hmph, you wound me, Diluc.”

Diluc leveled his eyes at Kaeya with complete lack of amusement. He really didn’t have time for this. He pulled his sort-of brother into the stock room at Angel’s Share this morning with the intention of getting him alone with as little fanfare as possible (he wouldn’t be going to the knights for this, that’s for certain) and in as little time as possible. “I’m serious,” he insisted. “I’m only asking you to do this because you’re the only one who can. I need you to convince Vind to leave her post, just for one night. There’s going to be danger, and I need to ensure her safety. Obviously, I can’t do it myself, as this could reveal me as…well, the rumored vigilante.”

“The Darknight Hero, you mean?” Kaeya supplied with a smirk.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine, fine.” Kaeya shrugged. “I understand; you wish to keep your secret identity a secret. No worries; I have no intention of letting Vind be prey to some Abyss mages tonight. I’ll make an excuse to get her out.”

“Right…wait!” Diluc’s eyes widened at the realization. “I didn’t tell you—!"

“That the Abyss Order was the ‘danger’ described?” Kaeya appeared far too satisfied with himself. “Don’t be so surprised. I have my sources just like you have yours. It is the reason why Sucrose is on her way right now to tell Vind about those strange weather anomalies in Dragonspine that need her attention right now, as they could be the sign of a great storm that the expertise passed down to her through generations might be useful for. Plus, she has the official knightly request signed by yours truly.”

Diluc sighed. “You…already had a plan.” Of course, he did. A very official-sounding one, actually. “Wait, is there actually…?” If this was a lie, there was no way that Sucrose would go with it.

“No, probably not, it’s just a little stretching of the truth. I asked Albedo to hype up the facts for this purpose. But don’t worry, he doesn’t know any details.”

And…he got Albedo in on his scheme as well. “You would think of everything.” He exhaled while rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Well, fine then, you do that; I’ll handle the rest.”

  It really wasn’t that much of a surprise to him that Kaeya would show up anyways. And, if he was being honest, it wasn’t unwelcome. Especially considering his timing.

Diluc struggled to regain his footing quickly, use the flat side of his claymore as a shield when another barrage of cryo icicles came his way. The cryo still caused a melt reaction on the flaming bush in front of him that made the fire burst in his face and deal yet another painful shot of damage. He inhaled a sharp breath and responded with launching himself at the cryo abyss mage with a flaming sword. He then unleashed his flaming phoenix on the hoard—half of Stormbreaker Point was already on fire, so it really wouldn’t matter if he added more flames to the mix.

A wound on Diluc’s arm was bleeding heavily, and he reached up to touch his face to confirm that there was blood there, too. Before him, a large group of abyss mages and Hilichurls made a blockade stretching across the clifftop and around the watchtower, and behind them, four Ruin Guards stood as support. The grass and trees around them had caught on fire, making a beacon in the pitch-black night sky. Behind Diluc, there was the edge of Stormbreaker Point and the long drop to the ocean. And beside him, there was Kaeya.

Diluc did not expect the fight to be as intense as it was. He knew that the Order was planning some raid because they got it in their heads that the tower at Stormbreaker Point must have something vitally important in it, and that Vind was some kind of powerful, mystical protector of it. Hilichurls hung around the tower a lot, so maybe they…communicated, somehow? Either way, Diluc planned to put a stop to it. However, he wasn’t planning on this much resistance…maybe they learned of his involvement?

Or maybe, that one Abyss mage in the middle, the cackling pyro one, was just a cut smarter than the rest. It made a point to sneer at the “Darknight Hero” upon Diluc’s arrival, and when Kaeya came in from nowhere to bowl through the line and take his place by Diluc’s side, it sneered at him, too.

“Well, if it isn’t the great cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius? Such a…wonderfully unique star in your eye, isn’t it?”

Diluc felt Kaeya tense by his side.

“Hehehe, what’s the matter? Worried about your precious Darknight Hero? Or your precious secrets?”

Kaeya didn’t respond to the taunt. He kept his stance steady, his sword angled towards the hoard. His one visible eye didn’t lose sight of the sword’s target. “They’re coming,” Kaeya spoke in a whisper that only Diluc could hear. “Our reinforcements.”

So Kaeya knew, coming here, that the battle was bad enough that they would need help.

“What’s that, oh great knightly captain?”

Most of the mages didn’t talk that much. Diluc wasn’t sure they even knew much, or if they remembered things. They ran on their one-track goal against humanity, and they plotted and schemed to meet that goal. It was enough of a reason to destroy every one of their ilk Diluc saw.

(He tried not to think much about what Kaeya told him that day, about the truth. He didn’t know what to do with that truth. He couldn’t protect Mondstadt if he doubted what he should do about it, so he didn’t. Whatever those mages used to be, they were only monsters now.)

Kaeya unleashed a blast of cryo in front of him, and Diluc followed by running into the fray of fighting renewed, taking out every creature he saw. In his distraction, he almost missed that he had been targeted by a Ruin Guard’s missile, and he stumbled to the ground in a desperate last-minute attempt to dodge. A Mitachurl tried to capitalize on that moment of weakness and bring down its giant flaming axe on him, but Kaeya in that moment dove in and struck the monster deep in the side. He then grabbed Diluc and they dodged backwards.

They were going back too far. Little by little, they were losing ground, to the point that their feet neared the edge of the precipice. Still, they fought. It hadn’t been so long for them that Diluc’s fighting by Kaeya’s side felt unnatural…although it was odd. Because, they were older now. Kaeya had a Cryo vision now. Everything was…different, but every now and again, they’d still end up doing something together anyways.

Diluc breathed heavily, his hands around his claymore sweating underneath the gloves. He pushed whatever pain he felt from his injuries somewhere deep, deep in the back of his mind. He needed—they needed to push through the line. He wasn’t confident in the state of his glider after getting himself roughed up and singed so much or in their ability to avoid further attacks during their descent.

“Kaeya, we need to—”

“Diluc, do you trust me?”

Diluc’s eyes darted over to him, taken aback by the gravity in Kaeya’s softly-spoken question. “What kind of question is that?”

“Well, do you?”

As if he could answer that in one sentence or less. He trusted him…in some ways, he guessed. He trusted him in battle. He trusted him…with Mondstadt, yes. Just…well…that was all very besides the point and this was really not the time. “Yes, sure,” he huffed.

“Excellent.” Kaeya smiled.

What was he—?

Then, Kaeya laughed, loudly and triumphantly, a wild look in his eye and he reached out for Diluc’s collar and grabbed it tight. His soft voice had turned into a shouting, mocking one. “Hahaha, end of the line, Darknight Hero! The Knights have no need of meddlers like you!”

What the fu—

He pushed him. Before Diluc knew what was happening, he felt his body succumbing to gravity, his feet losing their hold on the stone of Stormbreaker Point’s edge and following the rest of his body into the open air, suddenly void of every handhold or foothold within reach.

Kaeya fucking pushed him.

Diluc had to open his glider—fast. It wasn’t working. The hell was Kaeya thinking he couldn’t open it in time he was going to—

And then, he landed on something with a thud, much sooner than he should have. The surface uneven and scaly and distinctly familiar, it didn’t take him long to realize that it was a someone. Was that—?

Dvalin arced into the sky with a powerful beat of his wings, looping back around to the space underneath the cliff, coming in close at the moment Kaeya jumped off the edge as well. Diluc repositioned himself on Dvalin’s back to a place of more stability astride his spine and watched Kaeya make a much more graceful (much better prepared, that is) landing than he did.

Diluc’s first thought was that he was relieved to see Kaeya in one piece. His second was that it was time to demand an explanation. “What was that about?”

“Clever, wasn’t it?”

“You could have told me something!”

“But would it have believable to the mages if I did? You’re not that great of an actor, Diluc.”

“Your theatrics are utterly pointless,” Diluc huffed. “And now that we’re both gone, who’s going to stop them?”

“Well, look down,” Kaeya directed.

Dvalin had flown back up into the sky, well above the surface of the cliff but low enough that one could see exactly what was going on. Diluc looked down and saw, sure enough, some familiar forms attacking the small army on the cliff, now at the perfect position to pin them against the edge. He saw Jean herself, along with Amber, the Traveler, Eula, and a number of other knights as backup. Diluc had almost forgotten that Kaeya did tell him about the reinforcements. Looking again, he noticed even Venti hanging in the back, acting as if he were there for mild support and not the actual anemo archon. Dvalin’s presence was probably his doing. Wait, Kaeya didn’t know about Venti, did he…?

“Since we had discovered during our Golden Apple Archipelago adventure that our very curious bard friend is a good friend of our resident dragon, I thought I’d ask him for his assistance. Sure, there’s other ways we could have gone about this, but sometimes, striking fear into the hearts of your enemy is very much a job for ‘theatrics,’ as you called them.”

Well, it did make some sense, Diluc guessed. He was just relieved to see that the reinforcements in question were having little trouble that hoard which had given him such a difficult time solo. Still, the relief didn’t quite keep all the lingering irritation from his voice. “You really called in the knights.”

“Well, this may come as a surprise, but that is their job.”

“Hmph,” Diluc grunted. “You say that like it would have been easy to get the bureaucracy to trust an anonymous source about the attack happening in the first place. They’re consistently useless on matters like this.”

“So you still don’t trust them.”

“No.” He’s established this already.

“All of them?”

“I trust Jean,” Diluc clarified.

Although, he supposed she might not be the only one on the list. There were…some knights who knew what they were doing, mostly. And, he had respect for the Honorary Knight, not that they really counted as a “knight” in an institutional sense.

“Well, that’s a start.” Kaeya shook his head with a smile. “I’d be worried if you threw even her under the bus for doing nothing wrong at all.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Is it, now?”

“Kaeya, what are you even talking about?”

“Well, maybe I could bring to your recollection that because of your insistence on working alone, you walked into a rather significant ambush today, facing a threat to Mondstadt without bothering to communicate to the people of Mondstadt, and also sending poor Vind all the way to Dragonspine because you couldn’t be forthright on the potential danger to her life.”

“You know that last part was specifically your plan, right?”

“But you were the one who wanted me to make up an excuse.”

“You literally already had your plan in motion while I was talking to you this morning!”

“Are you two quite finished?” Dvalin’s booming voice rattled through their ribs, his point made quite loud and clear.

“Right, understood,” Kaeya agreed. “So, Diluc, ready to head back and get someone to look at that arm of yours?”

“I can still fight, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I do not think that would be necessary. They’ll be fine, and besides, I can always return to provide backup.”

“No,” Diluc refused. “If I’m seeing a healer, so are you.”

“So you’re fine with that, then?”

Dvalin was already ending his circling to start heading towards the city of Mondstadt, but Diluc could still look back and see the clashing forces on the cliff, now with two Ruin Guards down and many more mages extinguished or thrown off the edge. It was clear to see who the winning side was, now.

“It’s fine,” Diluc finally conceded with a steady exhale. “I trust them.”

#whumptober2021 #no.4 #do you trust me? #pushed #fandom #fic #genshin impact #diluc (genshin impact) #kaeya (genshin impact) #more fluff than whump ngl #i mean...pain is involved still #abyss order shenanigans #the ragnvindr brothers being their dense chaotic selves

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Hello Sorrow [Chapter Seven] Ignite [Karl Heisenberg]

Tag List: @courtenbae​ @unlikelyllamanerd​ @mylani3110​ @imtherain​ @wrr000​

Irina sat in bed, resting against the headboard with her knees pulled close to her chest, considering her options. She had been doing this for hours before the sun rose over the valley in the east, and even now she had no clear concept as to what to do about her arrangement with Heisenberg.

He swore he’d find her if she tried to run. The thought never occurred to her though; she was much too afraid to hide from him. Besides, the village wasn’t big enough to disappear in. The four lords controlled each of the territories bordering the village with the only entrance being to the south, up a snowy mountain trail, to which she considered hiking. But she was too ill-equipped and short of time to do so.

If she could not run or hide from him, her only option was to honor her agreement. In her heart, she knew there was no other way. Besides, Irina saw no harm in bringing him resources; she only wished to know what he needed them for.

Then, there was the matter of what he planned to do with her once he had all he required. Was he going to kill her? Perhaps he would. But not at this time, she imagined. The fact he asked her to get the resources for him implied to Irina that he seldom left the factory.

Giving him a little at a time might be an option she could exploit. But it was too soon to tell.

She sighed. Sitting on this wasn’t making her feel any better. Leaving her warm bed, she gathered some fresh clothes and took a short bath, redressing before she went outside. The sun was high above the clouds, but the weather was frigid. She tightened her torn coat around her body and took the note from her pocket, looking it over again.

Where would she even find some of these items?

Irina hummed. Perhaps the workshop. Leonardo Lupu might be able to help her. She ambled towards the maiden statue and went through the large blue gate in front of his house, knocking on his door.

His daughter Elena answered.

“Irina!? This is a pleasant surprise,” she greeted with a smile.

Looking over Irina’s unkempt appearance, her smile faded.

“What happened to your coat? It looks as though it has been through a grinder.”

She had no idea.

Irina faked a laugh. “I tore it on the washboard; the ridges are worn.”

“And the blood? Where you hurt?”

She had almost forgotten. Raising her arm, she pointed at her other wrist, covered by the sleeve of her blouse.

“Nicked myself on the ridges,” she lied.

Not certain if she believed her or not, Irina cleared her throat.

“Sorry to hear that,” Elena mentioned. “Ours is worn too. Father plans to make a new one.”

Irina hummed. “Where is Mr. Leonardo? I wanted to ask him a question.”

“He’s out, I’m afraid. A tractor broke down on the road ahead and he went to see if he could fix it,” she explained.

I suppose I could look elsewhere, Irina thought, pouting. But where will I find spare chainsaw blades?

Elena puckered her brow. “What did you want to ask him?”

Should I?

Irina saw no harm in telling her.

“I was hoping to ask him about taking some spare scrap from his workshop,” she retorted.

Elena snorted. “By all means, take as much as you like. I’ve been asking him to get rid of it all for some time now.”

“I appreciate it,” Irina said with a smile.

Bringing up her hand, Elena went back into the house, returning with a small key.

“This will get you through the gate,” she mentioned.

Irina grinned. “I’ll bring it back once I’m done.”

She took the key from Elena and wandered over to the large gate at the side of the house, leading into the backyard. Once it was unlocked, she slipped inside and took a look around. Scrap laid in heaps on the snow-covered ground; some rusted and beyond repair.

It was a start.

Irina decided to browse through the workshop first; it sat at the corner of the yard; the door wide open. She eased inside, squirming her nose as the dust in the air irritated her nostrils. Her allergies infrequently bothered her; a little dust and animal dander sometimes made her sneeze, but as of late, since she was locked in a room with dust mites and god knows what else, her tolerance must have weakened. Her eyes teared up.

She’d have to rush.

Clearing them, Irina took the shortlist from her pocket and began her search. She found 3 of the items just inside the workshop: the chainsaw blades, square sheets of perforated metal, and steel hex bolts. Enveloping them in a torn flour sack, she used manila rope to keep them together, and shoved the cardboard box of bolts into her coat pocket, then carried them outside with a grunt of annoyance.

How was she expected to carry all this? The sheet metal alone was too much to tote the distance she had to walk.

Irina huffed and searched the backyard. There had to be something she could use. And there was. Leaning against the gate was a rusted wheelbarrow. She rushed over to it and looked it over. Besides a giant hole in the bucket, it seemed usable. Rolling it over to the workshop, the wheel squeaked and stalled a bit, but at least it moved.

She loaded the scrap, careful not to put too much weight on the side with the hole, then searched for the remaining items on the list. Because she didn’t know what a reactor vent was, and because Heisenberg refused to explain it to her, Irina skipped it and went on to the next item. It took her a bit to find, having to dig it out of a scrap pile, but she checked the small vent fan from her list. It was rusted and she doubted it would work, but because it was on the list, she tossed it into the wheelbarrow.

Before she left, she tossed in a muddy red LED light to replace the one she broke in his factory and rolled the wheelbarrow out into the street, locking the gate back.

When she returned the key to Elena, the young woman gave her a plate of homemade bulz –a crunchy pan-fried dish with a creamy stuffing – that she had leftover and waved to her as she rolled the squeaky wheelbarrow down the muddy road.

Irina followed the path back to Heisenberg’s factory, resting a few times; her hands rattled from the vibration and her back ached from being hunched over so long, but she made it back to the front gate before the sun began to set.

Standing on the other side, she considered leaving the material and returning to her house but decided against it. She had no idea how he’d react. But how did she get him to open the gate?

“Lord Heisenberg,” she shouted. “Are you there? I’ve brought the materials you asked for.”

A loud screech made her jerk in fear as a speaker above the gate came to life.

“Irina … welcome back. I’ve been waiting for you,” Heisenberg declared.

The gate squeaked and slid open, allowing her entrance. She rolled the wheelbarrow up the path, heading towards the front door.

Heisenberg was resting against it, waiting for her, watching her struggle to push it up the wet grassy knoll.

“Having trouble?”

She gave him a heated look, then realized in embarrassment that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her eyes darted to the bucket of the wheelbarrow, watching the materials bounce around as she rolled the cart into the barn area of the factory.

Why was he not wearing a shirt? It was frigid as hell outside.

Irina took her snack from the wheelbarrow and ate one as Heisenberg rummaged around through the materials she brought. She sighed in delight; the cheese melted in her mouth and the charred crust on the outside gave it an unbelievably satisfying crunch.

God, Elena could cook so well.

“Not a bad haul,” Heisenberg stated.

He hummed, undoing the manila rope and pulling back the flour sack. “Though I see you did not find everything I asked for.”

“Might have been easier, if you had explained what it was,” Irina retorted, speaking with her mouth full.

She refused to look him in the eye.

“It looks like the cover on a fan, not hard to figure out.”

Irina grunted in annoyance. He was such an asshole. She knocked her boot on the floor, waiting for him to dismiss her.

He sauntered over to her, and stood in her view, taking the LED and tapping it against her hand.

Irina met his eyes, her face heating up at how close he was to her. God, she could feel the warmth from his body.

“You did well enough,” he mentioned with a grin. “Good news is, I still have use for you.”

How reassuring.

She took an uneasy breath, watching him in interest as he took one of the rounded snacks from the plate, shoving it into his mouth, cleaning his finger. Her heart pounded in her chest.

What in the hell was that?

Heisenberg hummed. “Not bad.”

He took the plate from her and went back over to the wheelbarrow, dragging it by the handle into the next room.

She took an eager glance at him. He wasn’t a bad-looking man; too much of a smart ass though, and a monster.

“Are you coming?”

Irina grunted. “Can’t I go home?”

“By all means,” she heard him say. “But you might not make it back before nightfall.”

She huffed a sigh. He had a point, though she’d rather take her chances in the dark than stay in that room again. Her nose itched thinking about it.

“I think I may be allergic to you,” Irina shouted.

She followed him through the doors and into the cargo bay, where he was unloading the sheet metal.

“Boo fucking hoo,” he retorted.

Irina rolled her eyes. “Can I at least have a proper bed to sleep on?”

“You can have mine, now come the fuck on, or go home,” he snapped, moving into the lift.

She knew better, but she was far too tired to care and followed him into the lift. The chances of him killing her while she slept were slim, or so she hoped.

What better chance to test her worth?

He said it himself, he still had use for her. And at that moment, something in her ignited.

#karl heisenberg #resident evil #heisenberg x oc #resident evil village

[ashintheairlikesnow]

"you're not helping..."

CW: Teenage OCs (Izzy is 17, Jamie is 14), children of whumper and whumpee, trauma response, referenced past captivity with parental whumper/child abuse but the references are vague

Jax Gallager (referenced) belongs to @comfy-whumpee

Izzy is seventeen years old when she grabs the post to bring it inside on her way in after school and comes to a sudden stop just outside the door, staring down at the envelope, battered and beaten after its long journey not just across a country but over an ocean and through customs, too.

Her little brother Jamie very nearly walks into her, lost in his own game on his phone, and he just barely swings to the side to avoid her. “Iz!” When she doesn’t react, he pauses. He’s taller than she is already, and sure to be even taller before he’s done growing. 

Where Izzy is all skinny knees and sharp elbows, her brother has the sort of bulk that’ll turn to muscle with time. He’s a gentle sort of giant, and it’s concern and not annoyance that shifts in his expression as he reads the wide-eyed stare in hers. “Izzy? What’s up?”

Izzy swallows, her throat clicking so loud she’s surprised the flock of birds lurking in the gutters and on the roof of the place next door don’t take off startled by the sound. She can’t, for a moment, remember how to speak.

She can’t remember how to breathe.

She just holds the card out for Jamie to look at as heat burns behind her eyes, her heart racing. She feels inside her the absurd urge to be polite and sweet and well-mannered. To somehow try to ensure safety in an unsafe space.

But she’s not there anymore.

She’s not there. She’s here.

And still... 

Jamie takes the envelope slowly, looking over it himself, his lips moving as he reads the return address. Then he pales, lips thinning. “How-”

“I don’t know,” Izzy whispers. “She’s not supposed to know where we live, Jamie. She-... she’s n-not allowed, but that’s... that’s her handwriting, that’s-... she isn’t supposed to know-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Iz.” Jamie glances towards the door - Jax is inside, and he’ll know if they’re more than ten minutes late either way, he’ll be looking at the clock and thinking about their safety, worrying over them the way Izzy worries over everything, too. “Look, hide it and we’ll look at it in your room, yeah? I’ll handle Dad.”

She nods, a jerky sort of motion, but she stuffs the envelope into her school bag and the two of them head inside. Izzy blames a headache for being quiet and if their dad suspects, he doesn’t say anything, just lets her go to lie down in her room. Jamie takes more time, talking about his day, getting something to eat and drink.

His skin prickles with impatience, with the need to go look. Izzy’s terror doesn’t translate to him - he mostly feels curious about the woman who makes up half his genes, who he has no memory of at all. Curious, and angry on behalf of a father and sister who struggle with what she did to them. Maybe a little angry that this shadowy woman built the boundaries of his life and made the fears that keep his father and sister up at night, and he doesn’t even remember her. 

Plus, he doesn’t want Izzy to be scared alone. That’s been their deal his whole life, their agreement - Izzy doesn’t have to be scared alone. They’re scared together, and brave together. 

His lips move in memorized words like a prayer as he heads down the hall. He’s been prepared for them to have to be brave together his entire life, urged on by Izzy’s careful planning, the go-bags they still keep hidden from their fathers, just in case. 

My name is James Timothy Gallagher and my sister is Isabella Nicole Gallagher...

Please don’t let this be something like that.

She’s not on the bed when he comes in with a bag of crisps and some water. He finds her pushed against the wall under a blanket between the bed and her desk with a flashlight, still staring at the writing on the envelope.

“Someone e-else wrote the address,” She says when Jamie pulls up the edge of the blanket and sits beside her, squeezing into the tiny space as best he can. Her voice is shaking and her eyes are red-rimmed but dry. “Not M-Mom. She wrote my name, but... but that’s it. Oh, God, she started writing Isabella M-Marcoset and had to cross it out-”

“Bint,” Jamie says amiably. “Everything’s Gallagher now. But there you go.” He nudges her with an elbow. “She doesn’t know where we are, still, right? Someone else wrote it for her.”

“That’s n-not helping,” Izzy says, and sniffs. “That means someone helped her send it, someone who does know, someone w-who-... I can’t. I can’t look.”

“Probably her lawyers or something, they’d have our address I guess. If we tell Dad he’ll rip them to shreds over it, you know his lawyer chews them up for breakfast. If you can’t look, I can.” Jamie takes the envelope from her before she can stop him and tears it open, casually ripping half the envelope apart to get to what’s inside. 

When he finds it, he blinks. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t let Dad hear y-you say that,” Izzy says automatically, with a weak smile.

“Like he’s one to say much. I think you mean don’t let Kie hear me say that.” Jamie’s eyes roam over the contents of the envelope. “Iz, this is a card for you.”

Izzy looks slowly over, peering through her fingers.

On the front, it’s pastel pink bordering a black-and-white print of a child’s chubby hand against a polka-dot dress. 

It’s okay to miss your mom, the outside of the card reads.

Izzy’s lips pull back from her teeth in a snarl.

Jamie opens the card to read what’s inside, in his soft voice. He might look more like the Marcoset side than his sister does, but his voice is nearly indistinguishable from his father’s when he speaks softly like this. “... Because she sure misses you. Though we've grown apart, I really do miss you. I remember my sweet little girl on her special day. Happy birthday, Isabella. And she wrote in here her prison address to write back. Tell me about you. Love, Mom.”

He sits there for a second in silence and then says, slightly dumbfounded, “Well, shit.”

Izzy starts to cry, hands pressed over her mouth to keep it silent.

The tears run in a waterfall, burying themselves in the minute space between hands and skin. She tastes salt at the corners of her lips. Jamie slides an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her chopped-short hair, starting to slowly grow out on one side. 

“Oh, Iz. D’you want me to get Dad?”

She shakes her head viciously, little hitched sobs and half-sounds coming from her and little more. Even if Jax had his ear pressed to her door, he wouldn’t hear her, Jamie thinks. His big sister learned how to cry silently, to keep herself safe by not doing anything to bring her mother’s attention on her.

She knew how to be silent out of fear before she learned how to speak in full sentences. Jamie heard someone say that, once, he can’t remember who. He wasn’t supposed to hear it.

They tried not to let him see how hurt she was, but Jamie has always known his sister was shattered and he wasn’t, and he’s always felt like he has to be the one who stays whole for her. 

“Please, Iz. He’ll know what to say. I, I don’t know what to do-”

“It’s not my birthday.”

Her words are muffled behind her hands at first, and so quiet he nearly misses them even in the stuffy silence under the blanket.

“What?”

“The-... the c-card said happy birthday, but my birthday was... was seven m-months ago.” Izzy’s tears turn to bitter, cynical laughter, no less worrying than the crying had been, still nearly soundless. “She doesn’t even know when my fucking b-birthday is. You’d think since s-s-she’s the one who fucking made me-... oh, my God. She doesn’t even know my birthday.”

“No, I-... I guess she... doesn’t.” Jamie opens the card again to look it over. He hadn’t even thought about that, but now looking, he can’t help but start to laugh, too. “Iz, why’d she-... she could have just asked someone when your birthday was, it’d be in the court stuff, right? Birth certificate and shit?”

“Right. She wouldn’t want people to kn-know she didn’t remember. Or she just didn’t care.” Izzy’s shoulders shake, now, laughter or tears or both. “She doesn’t want to know me, she can’t even bother to know my fucking birthday. She’ll just-”

“Ask about Dad,” Jamie whispers.

“Right.” Izzy stares down at the card, then hands Jamie the flashlight and takes the card right out of Jamie’s hands and tears it right down the center, then again, and again, and again. The sound of the thick cardstock paper shredding is the loudest sound in the room.

“She doesn’t fucking know me, she doesn’t know anything about me, she doesn’t know she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t even fucking want to try-”

Finally, when all that’s left is a scattering of little bits of paper with the occasional visible word, like the world’s most irritating puzzle, Izzy shoves the blanket off entirely, picks up the pile in both hands and throws it up into the air, giving another bitter laugh as the pieces float down like confetti. 

“She can’t even be scary right,” Izzy declares, and Jamie watches his big sister force down her fear to mock the monster under the bed, the nightmare mother who never quite leaves her mind. “That’s how awful Mom is. Even when she’s trying to scare me, she can’t do it r-right.”

“I don’t think she meant to be scary,” Jamie says, a little hesitantly. “I think that was her trying to be our mam and fucking that up.”

“Well, she’s not a mam, is she? She’s not. She’s a fucking... she’s... Fuck her!” Izzy sweeps up the scattered bits of card and dumps them into the little bin she keeps by her bed, covers them with some tissues to hide them from anyone who might see. 

She turns to look at Jamie. “Don’t tell Dad, okay? He doesn’t need to know about this.”

“Iz...” Jamie stands and reaches out to pluck a piece of card that had gotten stuck in her hair. There’s a clearly recognizable Isab- visible on it. “You should tell him.”

“But you won’t.” Izzy’s eyes search his, looking up at her younger brother. They’ve always trusted each other, been each other’s backup more than anyone else, in the way of children who know they might have to keep each other safe when adults can’t. “Promise, Jamie. Promise you won’t tell Dad.”

“I promise,” Jamie says, uneasily. “I won’t tell, Iz. But you still should. Or at least tell therapy, or... something. Not just sit on this like it didn’t happen.”

Izzy doesn’t say anything either way, half-chasing him from her room so she can duck into the little bathroom and wash her face, wiping away the evidence of her tears, leaving only the hint of red in the corners of her eyes to give her away. 

She comes out and blames it on her headache, promises Jax she’s taken something for it, disappears back into her room. He can’t tell if Jax believes her - their dad is hard to read sometimes. But... Jamie thinks maybe he knows something’s up. 

Jamie settles down to play his game on his phone a while longer in the living room, and he wonders if she’s in there digging the pieces of the card back out to put in the box under her bed she thinks nobody else knows about.

But he knows.

He’s seen the CD cases, printed out photos from old interviews, an old magazine she’d nicked from a hair place after getting her hair cut once. Their mother’s face again and again and again, younger or older, in prison and before prison and between prison, too. 

The monster literally under the bed. 

He should tell Jax, probably. It can’t be healthy, to keep all those things. Right? But he can’t bring himself to break her trust, when Izzy trusts almost nothing and no one outside her own home. He can’t be the one to wreck even that for her. 

He can’t.

He promised. 

Jamie glares down at his game, the little tinny sound coming from his phone’s speakers, a repetitive melody, the soft sound of explosions. 

He should tell Jax.

He should tell Kieran, maybe.

But he swore he wouldn’t, and they’ve always been there for each other even when no one else could be, and so Jamie doesn’t tell anyone at all.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @raigash @whumptywhumpdump  @eatyourdamnpears @pretty-face-breaker 

#izzy fucking gallagher #jamie gallagher #I love Jax #comfy-whumpee #trauma response tw #trauma recovery tw #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #fear response tw #familial whumper #parental whumper #child of whumpee #panic response tw #whump #caretaker and whumpee

[seaofghouls]

DSMP FALLS! <1>

Ah! Summer break! A time for leisure, recreation, and taking her easy.

..Unless you're me.

A pair of triplets crash through a billboard with a go-kart. "AAAAAHHH!" Being followed by a monster of unimaginable horror. "It's getting closer!" One of the triplets cried. My name is Y/N. The boy to the right of me about to puke is my triplet brother, Tubbo, while the boy to my left screaming profanities is my other triplet brother, Tommy. You may be wondering what we're doing in this situation. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. "Agh!" Y/N screamed. "This monster is such a bitch!" Tommy cried. "Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. Rest assured, there's a perfectly logical explanation!

... Let's rewind. It all began when our parents decided we could use some fresh air. They shipped us up to Gravity Falls, Oregon, to stay with our great uncle in the woods. "This attic is amazing! Just look at all of my splinters!" Tubbo cried. "..And there's a fucking goat on my bed." Tommy sighed.

Tubbo walked up to the goat.

"Hey, new friend! Yes, you can keep chewing on my shirt!" Tubbo giggled. Y/N giggled as well. Tubbo and Tommy seemed to look on the bright side of things. I, however, was having a bit of a harder time getting used to our new surroundings. "Boo!" "Aagh!" Y/N jumped up from their spot from under a tree. An old man took off a mask and started laughing. And then there was our great uncle Schlatt. That guy. Our uncle had transformed his house into a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack. The real mystery is why anyone came. And guess who had to work there? Y/N sighed, sweeping the floor. Tubbo reached out to touch something in this gift shop before Schlatt slapped his hand away.

"No touching the merchandise!" He said. Tommy snickered and touched it anyway out of spite. It seemed like it was going to be the same routine all summer, until one fateful day.

"Alright, look alive folks! I need someone to go hang up these signs in the spooky part of the forest." Schlatt said. "Not it!" The triplets said at the same time. "Also not it." Ranboo said. "Nobody asked you, Ranboo." Schlatt said. "I know and I'm comfortable with that." Ranboo smiled. "Niki! I need you to put up these signs!" Schaltt said. "I would.. but I can't.. reach." She trailed off. "I'd fire all of you if I could." Schlatt sighed. "Okay, let's make it eeny, meeny, miny, you." Schlatt pointed at Y/N. "Yes!" Tommy and Tubbo exclaimed. "Awe what? Gruncle Schlatt, whenever I'm in those woods I feel like I'm being watched." Y/N said. "Oh, this again." He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, something weird is going on! Just today, my mosquito bites spelled out beware!" Y/N said, showing schlatt their arm. "...That says bewarb." Schlatt said. "Look kid, the whole monsters in the forest thing is just a local legend. Drummed up by guys like me to sell merch to guys like that." Schlatt pointed at a guy distracted by a schlatt bobblehead. "So quit being so paranoid!" Schlatt said. ... "Ugh, Gruncle Schlatt. nobody ever believes what I say." Y/N groaned as they hammer signs in the forest. They hammer another tree but stop when they hear metal. "huh?" They hit it the hammer again in curiosity. Finding a secret door with a machine inside, they mess with the buttons for a bit before something opens up behind them. "What the.." Reaching into the hole, they find a dusty old journal. They brush it off and start reading. "Woah.. trust no one, huh?" Y/N mumbled. "Hello!" Tubbo exclaimed. "What are you reading, some nerd book?" Tommy asked. "Uh-uh, it's nothing!" Y/N exclaimed. "Uh-UH IT'S NOTHING!" Tommy mocked. "What, are you seriously not gonna show us?" Tubbo asked. "..Let's go somewhere more private," Y/N said. ... "It's amazing! Gruncle Schlatt said I was being paranoid, but apparently, Gravity Falls has this secret dark side!" Y/N exclaimed. "WOAH!" Tubbo exclaimed. "SHUT UP!" Tommy pushed Y/N with a grin on his face. "Get this! After a certain point, the pages just stop! Like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared!" Y/N exclaimed.

The doorbell rang. "Who's that?" Y/N asked. "Welp, time to spill the beans! This guy's got a platonic date!" Tubbo grinned. "Platonic??" "Date??" Schlatt walked in as Tubbo came back in with someone. "Hey family, I want you to meet my new platonic boyfriend!" Tubbo exclaimed. "Sup." He said. "Hey." Y/N and Tommy said. "How's it hanging?" Schlatt finger gunned. "We met at the cemetery. He's really deep." Tubbo smiled. "..What's your name?" Y/N asked. "Normal.. Man!" He groaned out. "He means Norman." Tubbo giggled. "..Are you bleeding, Norman?" Tommy asked. "..It's jam." Norman said. Y/N stared at him in suspicion before Tubbo dragged Norman away. There was something with Norman that wasn't right. I decided to consult the journal. Y/N read the journal out loud. "Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes.. these creatures are often mistaken for.. TEENAGERS?!" Y/N exclaimed. "Beware Gravity Falls' nefarious ZOMBIES?!" Y/N gasped. "Zombies??" Tommy gasped. He was sitting there with Y/N. "Tommy, outside!" Y/N exclaimed. "Oh, no! Tubbo!" They both yelled. Norman lurched towards Tubbo, grabbed him, and put a flower crown on him. "Daisies?? You scallywag!" Tubbo gushed. "Is our brother dating a zombie or are we just going nuts?" Tommy muttered. "It's a dillema to be sure." Charlie said. "Agh!" Y/N jumped. "I couldn't help but overhear you guys talking to yourselves in this empty room." Charlie explained. "Charlie, you've seen Tubbo's platonic date, right? He's got to be zombie!" Y/N said. "Hm.. how many brains did you see the guy eat?" Charlie asked. "Zero.." Y/N sighed. "Look, dudes, I believe you. I'm seeing strange thing in this town all the time. Like, the mailman, I'm pretty sure that guy's a werewolf. But! You gotta have proof, or else people will think you're a major cukoo clock." Charlie said. "As always, big C, you're right." Tommy said. "My wisdom is both a wisdom and a curse." Charlie said. "Charlie! The toilets are clogged again!" Schlatt called out. "I am needed elsewhere." Charlie took off. Y/N and Tommy decided to work together to get some evidence. Throughout their studies, Norman certainly had strange behavior, but not enough to convict him of anything supernatural. "I'll talk to Tubbo, don't worry, sib!" Tommy said. "Alright." Y/N nodded. ... Tommy walked into the triplets' shared room. "Tubbo, we've got to talk about Norman." Tommy said. "I know! Isn't he great?? Look at this smooch mark he gave me!" Tubbo turned his head to show a large red area on his face. "Egh!" Tommy cried. "Hah! Gullible. It was just an accident with the leafblower. That was fun." Tubbo laughed. "No, listen, Tubbo! I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems! The journal that Y/N found!" Tommy insisted. "You think he might be a vampire?? That would be awesome!" Tubbo gasped. "Guess again, big T! A zombie he is!" Tommy said. "A zombie?? Not funny, Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. "I'm not joking! Y/N can agree, it all adds up! The bleeding, the limp, he never blinks! Have you noticed that??" Tommy exclaimed. "Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking." Tubbo suggested. "HE'S GOING TO EAT YOUR BRAINS, BIG T!" Tommy shook Tubbo. "Tommy! Listen to me. Norman and I are going on a date tonight and I'm going to be adorable! He's going to be dreamy! And I'm not going to let you and Y/N ruin it with another one of your crazy conspirices!" Tubbo kicked Tommy out. "Ah man.. what am I gonna do??" Tommy slumped against the door. Someone sat down next to him. "How'd it go, bro-bro?" Y/N asked. "He's refusing to listen.. He kicked me out." Tommy sighed. Y/N frowned. "Not surprising. Hopefully he'll come to that realization in his own." ... The two out of three triplets were sitting on the couch, looking over the footage. "I guess we don't have any actual evidence, huh?" Y/N sighed. "Yeah.. I guess we can be kinda paranoid sometimes-" Tommy stopped. In the footage clip, Norman's hand fell off and he put it back on. "WAIT WHAT?!" Tommy and Y/N exclaimed. They leaped off

the

couch in a hurry. "WE WERE RIGHT! HOLY SHIT!" Tommy exclaimed. Racing outside, the two tried to find their uncle. "GRUNCLE SCHLATT! GRUNCLE SCHLATT!" Y/N called out. Schlatt wasn't paying attention.

"Wait! Niki has the cart!" Tommy suggested. "Good eye, Tommy!" Y/N grinned. "Niki! Niki! We need the cart to save our brother from a zombie!" They ran up to her. "Try not to hit any pedestrains." She winked, giving them the keys. "Alright, Tommy! Let's go save our sister!" Y/N grinned. They backed up before Charlie stopped them. "Dudes! This is for the zombies." He handed them a shovel. "Thanks." Y/N grinned, "This is in case you see a pinata." He handed them a bat. "..Thanks?" Tommy said. "Better safe than sorry!" He called out. Tommy and Y/N sped off to find their brother. They heard screams and drove to the direction of the sound. "LET'S GO!" Y/N exclaimed. "Get his arm there, Steve!" Tubbo was struggling against several gnomes. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" Tommy exclaimed. "Tommy! Y/N! Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes! And they're total assholes!" Tubbo cried.

"Gnomes..? We were way off." Tommy mumbled. Y/N flipped open the journal. "Damn.. no weaknesses." They sighed. "Hey! Hey! Let go of my brother!" Y/N demanded. "This is all one big misunderstanding. Your brothers not in any danger! He's just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our king for all of eternity!" The lead gnome explained. "Give him back right now, or else, prick!" Tommy demanded. "You think you can stop us, child? You have no idea what we're capable of!" The gnome went on a tangent before Tommy scooped him up with the shovel and tossed him to the side. Y/N used that chance to free Tubbo, dragging him back to the kart with Tommy. "GO GO GO!" Tubbo exclaimed. "I wouldn't worry about it. See their little fucking legs? Those pricks are tiny." Tommy smirked. Tommy stopped when they heard the noises of a creature. A giant gnome creature, to be exact. "Damn." Tubbo said. "MOVE! GO GO GO!" Y/N screeched. The giant creature chased them through the forest. Gnomes launched onto the kart. "Agh!" Tubbo exclaimed. "GET OFF MY FACE!" Y/N cried. "I got you, sib!" Tubbo punched the gnome, while also accidentally punching Y/N several times before the gnome let go, revealing new bruises on Y/N's face. "..Thanks bro.." They winced. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. They crashed into the back of the Mystery Shack. They were officially cornered. The triplets hugged each other in terror. "W-where's Gruncle Schlatt??" Y/N asked. "It's the end of the line, kids! Tubbo, marry us before we do something crazy!" The lead gnome ordered. "There's gotta be a fucking way out of this.." Tommy muttered. "I gotta do it." Tubbo decided. "What?!" The other two triplets exclaimed. "Tubbo, are you crazy?!" Y/N asked. "Trust me." Tubbo said. "..What??" Tommy gasped. "Trust me, just this once, guys." Tubbo said. The two hesitated and then nodded. "Alright, Jeff. I'll marry you." Tubbo stepped forward. "Hot dog!" The lead gnome climbed down to Tubbo. "You may now kiss the groom." Tubbo said after the lead gnome put a ring on his finger. "Well, I don't if I do!" The lead gnome grinned, puckering up. Tubbo took that chance to hit him with the leafblower that was left outside. "Agh!" The gnome screamed. "That's for lying to me! That's the breaking my heart! And that's for messing with my siblings!" Tubbo shot the gnome off into the forest and the rest of the gnomes scattered away. As the triplets walked back into the Mystery Shack, Tubbo stopped them. "Hey, Y/N, Tommy, I'm sorry. You two were really just trying to look out for me." Tubbo sighed. "Oh, don't be like that! You saved our asses back there!" Tommy smiled. "I guess I'm just sad that Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes." Tubbo sighed. "Hey, look on the bright side! Maybe the next one will be a vampire." Y/N giggled. "You're just saying that." Tubbo giggled, punching their shoulder. "..Awkward triplet hug?" Y/N suggested. "Awkward triplet hug." Tommy and Tubbo said together, the three of them in a hug. ... "Yeesh, you three get hit by a bus or something? Hahah!" Schlatt laughed. The triplets ignored him. "Hey, um,, I accidentally overstocked some items, why don't you three take something?" Schlatt said. "What's the catch?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "The catch is do it before I change my mind, now go!" Schlatt said. The triplets grinned at each other. Tubbo picked out a grappling hook, Tommy picked out a music disc, and Y/N picked out a a hat with a bat symbol on it. ... This journal told me that there was no one you could trust. But when you go up against an army of gnomes with side by side with two people, you realize they probably got their back. "Tubbo, can you get the light?" Y/N asked. "You got it, sib!" Tubbo shot the grappling hook at the light. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Tommy rolled his eyes. Tubbo and Y/N giggled. Our uncle told us there was nothing strange about this town, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked? -------

#dream smp #dsmp au #dsmp #gravity falls #gf #au #reader insert #x reader #dsmp gravity falls au #dream smp gravity falls au #agaga

[insingersfall]

Are dreamers descendants to fallen angels?

So I’ve been thinking a lot about the origin of dreamers, especially in relation to Ronan’s faith and his anxiety about creating life - a job he feels should be exclusive to God.

This is going to be long so the short story: Maybe dreamers are descendants to fallen angels?

Here’s my long ass thesis on why I think so:

Since CDTH I’ve seen this quote a lot:

In a wider sense it doesn’t have to mean anything, just a powerful ending to Bryde’s cheesy monologue about Ronan being too good for basic humanity, but I immediately read it literally.

-       do you long back?

And just two pages afterwards we get this:

Coincidence? I think not.

Bryde knows what Ronan is and where he comes from - the sky.

The question of “what am I” is something Ronan struggles with during the entire course of TRC and a vital part of his storyline.

And it’s always this:

Not who am I, What am I.

During the first four books Ronan struggles both with this huge existential dilemma of “what” and with more mundane questions regarding “who” he is. I think Ronan’s coming of age-arc, especially the “why do you hate yourself”/ “I don’t” - scene in TRK is one of the most moving scenes in YA. I read that as being about “who” he is. And In CDTH he’s older, he’s figured a lot of shit out. There are no negative feelings left about him being gay for example. Not in relation to his family, himself or to his religion.

But he still has a lot of negative feelings and anxiety about being able to create life. He still struggles with his identity as a dreamer alongside his identity as a catholic.

Ronan being religious adds so much to his character and this is why I can’t help but read A LOT into the religious symbolism. And it’s there.

Maggie herself posted this a while ago to clear up why Ronan gets so mad in BLLB when the copy of him dies. It clarifies multiple things - that Ronan is very much stuck in toxic masculinity and refuses to show vulnerability while also being very vulnerable, as well as how the situation mirrors his suicide-attempt, which is obviously triggering. But for this theme I want to highlight these two paragraphs:

“First, the setting. Adam is not religious, but Ronan is, and St. Agnes is a place he goes with the broken remains of his family. Now Ronan takes Adam — someone Ronan has only just allowed himself to admit internally that he likes, a lot — not just to the church, but to a private part of the church Ronan frequents on his own. “

And

“But to Ronan, it’s not just a copy. It’s a person who just happens to look like him. Remember that Ronan has spent his life loving dreamed people just as hard as real people. Ronan has spent enough time with Matthew and Aurora to know that even though they came from dreams, their feelings are real. They are not disposable. This other Ronan is really terrified, really in pain, and really dying.

And the real Ronan killed him. He’s killed someone.”

This is one of the very few times Maggie has explained something that isn’t explicit in the book. As we know Maggie is a major spokesperson for “the only things canon are the things in the book” but here she adds additional information. Why? Because it’s really, really important to Ronan’s character. Both the religion and his feelings about creating life. Especially these two combined.

He hates himself for a lot of things, and he hates himself for the ability to create -and therefore take away- life. Something only God is allowed to do.

Well yes Adam, maybe there are two gods in this church. Or something like it.

So - fallen angels? What does that mean really?

The story of fallen angels differ a lot from religion to religion, I’ll focus on the Christian tradition since that’s what our lord and savior Ronan Lynch would like. There isn’t a lot of Bible stories about it, it’s more of a tradition arising from later accounts in religious texts and poetry.

The Devil is a fallen angel who together with a bunch of other angels rebelled against God and was expelled from Heaven to Earth.

In some older interpretations the “angels” on Earth had children with humans and created giants, who in time became demons. Or, if you’re writing YA fantasy with a religious MC, maybe these descendants of angels became dreamers.

Lucifer rebelled against God because he too wanted the power that God possessed.

“Lucifer apparently became so impressed with his own beauty, intelligence, power, and position that he began to desire for himself the honor and glory that belonged to God alone. The sin that corrupted Lucifer was self-generated pride.” 

I sure think that sounds like Bryde, and it sounds a lot like the sin Ronan fears God will judge him for.

And on the subject of the Devil. Who in this series is often referred to as a “devil of a boy?”

It’s our man, Ronan.

A quick search of the word “Devil” in the Raven Cycle (1-4) led me to a number of passages, mostly as part of a saying, but at some occasion to specifically describe someone, or as a direct reference to someone.

Ronan, Niall, Kavinsky and Aurora. Dreamers and their dreams.

Coincidence? I think not.

The same search in Call Down the Hawk I would say really confirms this recognition of mine. It has for starters this wonderful paragraph:

But it also broadens the parable to all of the Lynch brothers.

The upper quote about the three brothers all being handsome devils is the only time not even Matthew can avoid the metaphor. A character who up until then has only been compared to an angel.

Contradiction? No, not in the question of descendants to fallen angels.

A creature who are - by definition - both angel and devil, savior and sinner, companion of God as well as a child of Satan.

We don’t know for sure yet how one becomes a dreamer. But we do know that it in some way it’s inherited. In some peculiar way from parent to child. From one devil father to one of his devil sons, the one he created together with another one of his creations. Because Ronan therefore is a clone of Niall? Is Hennessy a clone of her mother? Kavinsky one of his parents? Maybe the next two books will tell. Regardless I still like the idea that they all descend from the first angels on earth, mixing with humans.

I also just have to mention that Ronan not only dream of the sky, but also on multiple occasions dream about flying. Not as a bird, but with his own wings.

So what do I think this will mean in the big scheme of things?

Not a lot honestly! I’m not even sure I’m arguing that this will be a plot point.

But I do think the paradoxical identity in descending from something so torn between good/evil is fucking perfect for Ronan. Someone who’s constantly torn between his own fuck-ups and wanting to do the right thing.

Who creates marvelous life in form of magical animals, angelic brothers and light where there needs to be light, but who also creates monsters, horrors and dangers.

Who wants to protect the world from climate change and protect the people he loves from danger and for all we know might instead accidentally end the world.

Who turns to God and fears hell at the same time as he’s presenting himself to the world as a devil of a boy.

I just think it’s beautiful, whether Maggie has a storyline planned with this or not.

So I’ll just end this thread with the upper picture and with the quote describing Ronans’ birth.

#ronan lynch #cdth #call down the hawk #mister impossible #the dreamer trilogy #pynch #trc #the raven cycle #maggie stiefvater #my post

[luffles424]

Dark Side (01)

☼ Pairing: Namjoon x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: Star Wars au, Sith!Namjoon, Sith!Jungkook, Sith!reader, fluff, (future) smut, bit of angst, e2l, magical artifacts

☼ Count: 16.8K

☼ Warnings: violence (there’s some fight scenes), minor unnamed character death, mentions of enslavement

☼ Summary: You end up in the wrong temple at the wrong time and you’re certain that it spells nothing but your death. Except, it doesn’t. Has everything you’ve learned about the Sith been wrong? Or is it perhaps just these Sith that are different?

(This takes place long before the movies, it’s based around the SWTOR game, so it takes place roughly 3500 years before the events of the movies.)

☼ a/n: This is just... so wildly different from what it was originally suppose to be (originally was just a pwp with just Joon) and now there’s so much plot I’ve had to split it into two parts because now its a monster. It was also suppose to be posted on Star Wars day and I’ve clearly very badly failed on that part. This is primarily inspired by Joon’s 2018 MGA outfit and then Kook’s look when he wears a giant hood and looks like a sith. (I’ve also got some pictures of all three looks if y’all are interested in me posting that (they’re just from a dress up game but I have zero drawing skill)) Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Part 2

You press yourself back against the pillar, the coolness of the stone seeping through your ragged clothes, a stark contrast to your heated skin. It’s too hot on this planet, even down in this tomb it’s too hot. You listen, hearing the scuff of footsteps against the sandy stones before they stop. They’re close. So close to you, it feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait and hope for them to leave. 

Your gaze darts around and you spy your pack, too far away for you to reach without moving. And no matter how hard you try, you know what a futile attempt it would be to try to move with all the sand, even the slightest adjustment of stance would be audible. Because if you could hear this other person, they’d most assuredly hear you too. 

It remains quiet for a few more moments before they let out an irritated sigh. “I know you’re there. You might as well just come out.” You remain frozen, you know they didn’t see you, their shadow gave them away before you would’ve been visible to them. There’s an annoyed growl. “You can either come out on your own or I can force you out.”

They put a weird emphasis on the word force, it makes something in you prickle at the overall command, something that sits just under your skin. You glance to your pack again. If you can edge your way out in front of them just right, you can get closer to your pack and subsequently, to your balster. It’s a shitty little thing. It’s probably not good for anymore than just one shot. But if you’re lucky, you’re only going to need the one shot. 

You step out, shuffling a few steps towards your pack, as close as you think you can manage without the other growing suspicious. You know how you look, how you always look, a little dirty from scavenging, clothes torn and repaired, not necessarily with the steadiest of hands. Eyes hard from years of distrust. You let your shoulders slump, you know you can try to play up the runaway slave easily. You’ve done it before, it’s not entirely difficult given that you actually are one, but you’re far from that scared, timid girl anymore. 

You keep your head down, but let your gaze wander over the man before you. His dark hair is longer than you’d expect of someone on this planet and its fluffiness is at odds with the glower on his face as his eyes rake over you too. He’s too clean and put together to be from around here, you know that much immediately. His clothes are dark, from the black cloak around his shoulders to the layers of black cloth and leather that cover him. The only thing that stands out is the red leather straps that accent his boots and the deep red fabric cinched around his waist, which draws your attention to the silver and black glint of metal hanging from his belt, signifying what he was. Sith. 

Your stomach drops as your blood runs cold. Your chances to get out of here just got even lower, practically nonexistent. You were nothing to him and a sith would have no problem with getting rid of you should you be in his way, which given that you’re scavenging in a tomb, you probably are. You glance quickly to your bag, even if you die, if you were quick enough maybe you could still get your shot off. You certainly weren’t going to make this easy for him.

He follows your gaze and snorts. “Don’t even think about it.”

You’re going to die anyway. There’s no way you’re getting out of this, you have nothing to lose. 

But you don’t even get a step before he’s thrown a hand out and you feel your oxygen cut off. Your hands scramble uselessly at your neck, but there’s nothing there for you to try to pry away to give you your breath back. He tuts at you, walking closer until he replaces the force choking you for his own hand. He tightens his grip and you claw at his hand, struggling to get away. You barely register his words as you try to get him off of you.

“Now then, little runaway, before I drag you back to whatever sorry hole you thought you could get away from, you have something of mine and I’d like it back now.”

He lifts you, until your toes are just barely brushing the ground. You don’t know what you could possibly have of his that he’d want, this isn’t even a sith tomb. Your mind races, you’re short on options at this point, held with your oxygen cut off like this. If you could just get to your bag. Your hands wrap around his forearm for lack of anything else to do. Then a small glimmer of a plan forms. It’s certainly not the best and if it even works then you’ll end up on your ass too. But it will hopefully serve as enough of a distraction for you to be able to grab your pack. 

You tighten your grip as best as you can and look him in the eyes. He looks annoyed and you’re fairly certain that he’s said something else, but there’s a ringing in your ears now and your vision is starting to go black. You muster every ounce of strength you can and lift your legs, planting them firmly on his chest and push, relishing his brief look of surprise as your feet lift.

You expect him to maybe stumble, caught off guard enough that he releases your throat at the very least. What you don’t expect though, is for him to fly back 20 feet to slam into a pillar on the opposite side of the room. You hear his wheeze as his breath is knocked from him as he slides down to the base of the pillar to crumple in a dazed heap. 

You hit the ground with a gasp, the air burning your throat and lungs as it floods your system. You take only a single deep breath before you’re scrambling closer to your pack and yanking your blaster free from the confines. You turn and point it at him just as he gets to his knees, hand outstretched to do… something. Something that you really don’t want to find out. 

But there’s a shout of ‘enough’ that comes from neither of you that halts both of you. The power in the command makes you falter just slightly, end of your blaster wavering from where it’d been pointed at the other man. The other man looks equal parts pissed and nervous. You glance towards the entrance and watch the one who spoke enter. He’s dressed in a similar manner to the other. His hair though is shorter, blond, and more meticulously styled than the other’s. Fuck, just your luck, two sith. He waves a hand passively to the man you had been fighting. 

“That’s enough, Jungkook.” His voice is soft spoken, but there’s an undeniable undercurrent of ‘or else’ that follows it that has you wanting to follow his order even though it wasn’t directed at you.

The man, Jungkook you presume, drops his hand and his murderous gaze turns to you. “She’s in the way, master,” he spits out.

Another hand wave and Jungkook slumps down, clearly upset that he’s not being listened to. The man approaches you, head tilted in curiosity. He flicks his hand and your blaster flies from your hand to smash against a pillar. You’re so dead now, you clutch your pack closer to you like a shield. 

He reaches out a hand, unphased by the way you push yourself back. “You have the holocron I’ve been looking for. Will you hand it over?”

Your brows furrow, glancing from your pack back to this man. He must be crazy if he really thinks you’ll just hand something over that you could sell and get yourself off this blasted planet. 

His face is disarmingly serene when he drops his hand after you refuse to respond. You don’t know whether you should be relieved or on edge. He studies you and seems to come to a decision. He turns and walks away, leaving you even more perplexed.

“Jungkook, bring her with.”

Twin shouts of ‘what’ ring out. Yours in confusion and Jungkook’s in anger and indignation. 

“You can’t be serious!” he continues. 

The man turns to him and you can see the fire in his eyes despite the fact that his face remains passive. “Do you think you know better than me, Jungkook?”

Jungkook shrinks under the look, murmuring a soft, “No, master.”

“Then take her to the ship. She may hold on to her bag if it makes her feel better.” He gives him a warning look. “It shall be handled carefully, we cannot afford for that holocron to be broken. It will set my work back years.”

The man leaves, ascending to the exit and leaving a heavy silence in his wake. You wonder if you could run. A scoff finally breaks that silence and you jerk your head to stare at Jungkook. He mutters something further in a language that’s unfamiliar to you and approaches, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t know why Namjoon won’t just let me kill you or send you back to your little shithole.” 

You glare at him, putting the strap of your bag over your head to let it hang, hand still clutching the strap tightly. His master may be willing to bring you with, but Jungkook clearly doesn’t share that sentiment and you wouldn’t put it past him to lie and say you tried to run. You straighten your back and make every attempt to look imposing. 

“Listen here, you rockhead, you don’t scare me.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t give him a chance to respond, instead turning on your heel and following his master out of the tomb. You might as well milk his kindness while he’s got it. Before he changes his mind and you maybe end up dead in a sandpit somewhere.

You don’t really know how long the trip lasts. Once you exited the tomb, Jungkook seemed to have snapped out of his stunned surprise, quickly following so he could seize your arm roughly and drag you in the direction of a nearby ship. Not like you couldn’t have puzzled out that it was theirs, given that there was nothing around for miles. It’s nice, nicer than anything you’ve seen in a long while in this place. You’re surprised that it stands untouched given the sheer amount of scavengers on this planet. 

Once drug on board, you’d been shoved into what you assume Jungkook is deeming your temporary prison. It’s too big to be such, and given the ship, you doubt that they actually had any sort of dedicated jail space on board. It’s a small room that looks more like it’s usual purpose is for storage. Containers are stacked neatly along the walls and there’s a cot in the corner as well. That’s where you take a seat for the duration of the ride. 

When Jungkook had pushed you in, he’d looked you over in disgust, muttering out a warning about not trying anything and then the door was sliding shut and you heard the lock engaging. What did he expect you to try in a glorified closet? As far as you can tell, the things that are stored here would do little to help you. Although you do have to resist the urge to swipe some of the nicer looking spare circuitry, knowing how much you could sell it for. 

So instead you sat and thought. Tried to figure out what this sith could possibly think about offering you that he couldn’t just do so in the tomb. Or why he didn’t simply kill you and leave you there. You wouldn’t have even been the first scavenger body left in that tomb. Anyone who found you would’ve just thought you to be another unfortunate scavenger. And there’s certainly no one who would’ve come looking for you or asking questions. 

It makes you wary. Sith aren’t the paragons of trust anyway, but one that seems to want to take you to a place that you don’t even know the name of is a little alarming. You don’t think you could outpower him either. Jungkook, probably. Your scuffle in the tomb spoke volumes of the fact that you could maybe have taken him. But Namjoon, you definitely couldn’t. He’d wielded his power so easily and effortlessly when he’d talked to you that it looked like he hadn’t even thought about what he was doing, just something that was second nature to him, as easy as breathing. 

You only know that you’ve arrived at whatever the destination is by Jungkook’s return. The glower is still painted on his face and he’s quick to take your arm again and pull you along. You blink as you exit the ship, eyes widening as you take in your new surroundings. You’ve never seen so many towering buildings in person before. The sky is clouded and you would think it night were it not for the fact that it’s clearly busy as if it were the middle of the day. 

“Where are we?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Stars, seriously? This is Dromund Kaas. The seat of the Empire.”

He tugs you down the ramp, but you’re too distracted by the buildings around you. Everything gleams despite the low light and your eyes shine with wonder. Everything is so full of life. And once you exit the port into a more prominent thoroughfare, people move in large crowds, shopping and laughing. There’s stalls with food that others stop at. Your stomach growls at the scents that fill your nose but Jungkook pays it no mind, either not having heard it or, more likely, he doesn’t care. 

He weaves through the crowd easily until you come to a large building and you’re led inside to a lift. You startle when it starts to move. You’ve heard about them before, but you’ve never seen one before, let alone rode one and the sensation is disorienting. When the lift stops, the door swishes open and Jungkook is moving before you can even blink. You pass by a window, freezing when you see how high up you are. Everything looks so small from up here. You’re stopping forces Jungkook to stop as well, both angered and perplexed that he can’t tug you along. 

The city sprawls out below you, the view is both breathtaking and terrifying. You thought you’d be doomed to a life of sand and sun, but even if Namjoon decides to kill you to get what he needs, then at least you can say you’d gotten to find your favorite view. Jungkook tugs you roughly and you stumble towards him. 

“Come on, runaway. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting,” he smirks then and it’s full of malice. “Or maybe you should keep taking in the view. I think I’d like that outcome much more.”

You glare at him and push him in the direction he had been headed before you stopped. You weren’t going to make it that easy for him. He sighs, like he had wished that you would choose to stay in place. Arriving at an innocuous looking door, Jungkook enters a code into the lock and the door grants you both entry. 

He leads you through an opulent apartment, the colors are all muted but warm and while there seems to be a lot of metal used, it looks cozy. The most startling thing is the greenery. There are plants everywhere, the one point of color in the room that isn’t muted. They all look well maintained and cared for and you’ve never seen so much green in one place. Especially one so small. There’s more windows that you pass as Jungkook takes you down a short hall to another door. 

He knocks once before entering, giving you a shove as he releases you and he moves off to the side to lean against a wall. You stumble and glare at him as you right yourself. You glance around, he’s brought you to an office, your gaze settling on the large ornate desk in front of you. Lifting your gaze, you realize this must be Namjoon's office, given that he’s sat behind the desk, reading through a datapad like he hadn’t just taken you from another planet and might be preparing to have to get rid of a body. 

He pays you no mind for a while, leaving you to shift uncomfortably. Was this meant to be a ploy to get what he wants, make you make the first move? You won’t play into his game and you straighten and stare him down, expression carefully blank. You’ve certainly kept your face blank through worse, dealing with your old seller. Finally he looks up, looking bored. He glances over you, eyes pausing on your pack that’s still clutched close to your body. He looks back to the datapad before setting it down and folding his hands together in front of him casually, like this is an everyday occurrence for him. 

“I have two options for you moving forward.” You wonder if one of those is death. “The first is, give me the holocron in your bag there and in return, you will receive 1 million credits and a ride to whatever planet you wish to travel to.”

You blink. Had you really heard him right? A million credits? And you get to leave, alive? There’s no way. He stands, moving towards the window in his office. How many windows did they have here? They were everywhere. You couldn’t really have windows back home, too much sand and solid walls kept the heat out better.

He paces for a few moments like he’s mulling over his words before he continues. “Or,” he stops, back facing you. “You give me the holocron and you can become a sith.”

Jungkook makes a noise of protest. “You can’t be serious! Her? A sith? That’s a joke, right?”

Namjoon turns, giving Jungkook a dark look that shuts the younger man up immediately. His attention turns back to you and he moves closer, circling you. You feel like you’re on a selling block being inspected. “You’ll become my apprentice, train under me, carry out missions, and rise through the ranks. You’ll gain unimaginable power.” He stops directly behind you, leaning in till his lips just barely brush your ear and you shudder. “Isn’t that what you wish for most? To never be as powerless as you were when you were enslaved?” 

He walks away, going back to his desk and picking the datapad back up to read like he didn’t just offer you a new life on a silver platter. “The choice is yours. You may think it over for a while. But time is precious and I won’t wait long.”

With that, his attention is completely taken by the datapad in his hand. You see Jungkook fuming in the corner, clearly not liking the offer Namjoon has extended to you. You can’t even enjoy it, your mind is reeling from the deal. 

A million credits. Even in your wildest dreams you never envisioned having that much. You could get so far away from your old life. You’d never have to worry about money again. Never have to worry about looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to catch on that you’d run from your owners. You could live a normal life. The money makes his other offer seem so absurd.

You? A sith? Could you really do something like that? You know you’ve never been entirely innocent, stealing a regular occurance when you were just trying to survive. But sith are evil. Did you think you could be evil?

Namjoon must think you could be, you doubt he extended the offer for no reason. He must see something in you that makes him want to train you. You think about the power you’d gain. No one could control you again without your permission. You could defend yourself so easily. You’d wield power you never could’ve imagined. 

You lick your lips. It’s so enticing. It’d be so easy to just say yes, to hand over the holocron and become his apprentice. He didn’t seem wholly evil. He offered you money or a new life. But appearances could always be deceiving. You have no idea if he would follow through with his side.

You reach into your bag, pulling the glowing pyramid out. You stare at it and you know your decision. You set the holocron down in front of Namjoon and he looks up expectantly. 

“Train me.”

He smiles and for the first time, you realize he has dimples. They would make him seem sweet and innocent were it not for the holocron below, casting red across his face and making the smile seem far more sinister. He nods.

“Wise choice, little one.” He waves Jungkook over. “Take her to Korriban. Get her registered at the academy and started on her trials. You can work on your training there as well while you wait.” He glances over you from head to toe, lips twisting in distaste. “Take her to get more appropriate clothes as well. And her saber when she passes. Ensure that she gets anything that she needs.” He turns his gaze to Jungkook, expression dark. “Understood?”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “Yes, master.”

Namjoon turns back to you, a pleased smile curling his lips. “I have a few things that will keep me here for a while so I won’t see you until you return. But you will have your hands plenty full taking your trials. You will be in excellent care while I’m occupied as Jungkook will also be there. If you need anything, be sure to contact him.” Namjoon seems to realize something. “Right, Jungkook, get her a communicator as well when you’re getting her set up at the academy.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “That’ll be all. Jungkook, go ahead and take the smaller ship.”

With that, Namjoon’s dismissal of you both is clear as he turns his attention to the holocron. Jungkook storms out of the room and you hurry to follow after, knowing that he won’t wait for you in this mood. He angrily paces the living room for a few moments before he’s rounding on you, finger jabbing into your chest.

“I don’t know what Namjoon is fucking playing at, but you will not be his apprentice. That’s me.” He sneers. “You’re going to be eaten alive at the academy. Namjoon has lost his mind if he really thinks you have what it takes to be a sith.”

You tilt your head, smiling and taking a step closer to Jungkook that seems to throw him off guard. “Oh? Namjoon certainly seems to be confident in my abilities. I’m sure it’ll be no time before I take over for you.”

His tongue pushes at his cheek in irritation. “Stars, I can’t wait to watch you fall. Won’t be so fucking cocky then, will you, runaway?”

He turns and leaves, you trail along after him, smirk firmly in place. Even if you don’t make it through whatever training you’ve got coming, you’re certainly going to enjoy teasing Jungkook. Especially when he makes it so easy to do. 

Once back down on the ground, Jungkook continues his pace. You’d think he was trying to lose you in the crowd but his pace is just slow enough for you to just keep up with him. You come to a large plaza and you look around in wonder at all the people and merchants here. There’s more people here just shopping than there was in the entirety of the village you grew up in. 

You almost lose Jungkook, distracted by a stall selling shiny trinkets, but he doubles back to drag you away. You can feel the irritation rolling off of him and that just makes you giggle. He finally comes to a store, one that’s actually in a building, and shoves you through the doorway. 

The walls are stacked high with rolls of fabric, from sheers and lace to leather in every shade you could ever imagine. You stand in the doorway, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of fabric in the room. Jungkook slips past you, craning his neck to search the shop. 

“My, my! Is that my little Jungkook again!” A voice calls from somewhere among the stacks of fabric. 

Jungkook’s cheeks flare red and he glares at you as you bite your lip on a snicker. A small, older woman finally comes into view, pulling on a pair of glasses. Her already wide smile widens when her gaze falls on Jungkook. She immediately prods his stomach.

“Have you been eating well, boy?”

Jungkook pouts, actually pouts, and gently pushes her prodding hands away. “Bhea, please. Not now.” He whines and oh, you’re so enjoying this. “I have work for you.”

The woman, Bhea, frowns at that. She steps back slightly to look over Jungkook’s figure, shoving his cloak off so it puddles on the floor at his feet. She tilts her head and gestures to the expanse of him and you can’t help the way your eyes trail along his figure, the thick red belt at his waist does wonders to accentuate his tiny waist. He may be a jerk, but he’s got a great ass.

“I see nothing wrong with what I’ve already made.���

Jungkook makes a face, quickly stooping to pick up his cloak and fasten it back around his shoulders. He shakes his head and gestures towards you. “Not for me. A… new recruit.” His face twists with the last word. 

“Is that your way of saying you’ve got a girlfriend? My little Jungkook is growing up so quick.” She rests a hand on her heart and Jungkook’s cheeks flood red and he waves his hands. 

“No, I- That’s… She’s not my girlfriend. She’s nothing to me.”

Bhea gives him a nod and smirk and you can’t tell if she said that to tease him or if she really thought that. But the reaction was certainly worth it so you can’t be too upset by it. She turns her gaze to you finally. “Oh my, what a pretty little thing you are.” She coos, stepping closer as she inspects you. “We’ll get you fixed up with something much more suitable. Not these rags here.”

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. You knew your clothes were shabby, but you didn’t think they were all that bad. You did your best to keep them looking decent. 

Bhea pays no mind to you, taking your hand and leading you towards the back of the shop. Jungkook follows behind. She leads you to a room where a droid sits, coming to life once she enters. She gestures to it.

“This is T43, he’ll take your measurements and then we can go pick out some fabrics and talk styles.”

She encourages you closer to the droid before turning and shooing Jungkook from the room. “You go, you don’t need to be in here for this.”

Jungkook splutters a protest but does nothing to stop Bhea as she pushes him out of the room and closes a curtain. She turns back to you with a smile, directing you so the droid can take all of your measurements while idly mentioning what sort of styles and colors would look good on you. 

You barely get a word in as she happily rambles and you think that she’s mostly talking for her own benefit. Once you’ve been measured, she leads you back out to the main part of the shop and you see Jungkook looking over a stack of reds. You want to laugh at the predictability but Bhea is pulling you towards a stack of sheers. 

Jungkook notices your return, frowning when he sees what Bhea is pawing through. “Those seem unnecessary.”

Bhea shoots him a look, eyebrow raised. Her gaze drops to his belt before dragging back up to look him in the eye. “Is it? Who says that a sith must dress boring in order to be a sith?” She taps her chin. “I would think Sith would be much more flexible in clothing given how simple the Jedi go. Am I wrong? You chose that belt when you didn’t need it.”

Jungkook pouts and you really wish you could get a picture for posterity. He might hate you, but he’s adorable when he pouts like that. “I suppose. Just… Make sure she can fight and move in whatever you make.”

She gives him a patronising smile. “What sort of seamstress do you take me for? She’ll be able to do anything in whatever I create for her.”

Jungkook bows his head, looking thoroughly chastised. “Of course, Bhea. I do not doubt your abilities.”

Nodding, Bhea turns back to the fabric, pulling colors out to hold against you before putting them back. She leads you around the shop, stopping at the leather fabric and linen as well. Finally, you’ve circled back to Jungkook where she waves you both out. 

“Come back in 3 hours and she will have her clothes.”

“What? But-” Jungkook starts.

She holds up her hand before pointing out the door. “Go. Eat. I’m sure you’ve journeyed far today. Come back in 3 hours.”

Jungkook sighs but nods, turning and leaving with you in tow. He stands outside the shop, hands on his hips as he looks around. 

“Where are we going?” 

Jungkook’s face morphs into a scowl. “I’m going to get something to eat. I don’t care what you do.” He starts to walk away. 

You follow, nudging his shoulder. “Namjoon told you to take care of me. So we’re going to get food.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, likely to argue but you catch the scent of something that makes your mouth water. You grab his arm to keep him still and inhale deeply. “Stars, what is that smell?” 

You look around, eyes finally landing on a stall nearby that seems to be selling grilled meat. Your eyes alight when you see it and you immediately move towards it, dragging a protesting Jungkook with you. He can protest all he wants, it’s been so long since you’ve seen so much meat.

You stop in front of the stall, pouting up at him. “I want these.”

Jungkook looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Then buy them.”

You look down, toeing at the ground. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked. Jungkook doesn’t seem likely to be sympathetic to the fact that he interrupted your attempt to get credits earlier. The silence stretches before Jungkook seems to realize the problem. “You don’t have any money.” It’s not a question. 

“I would’ve if you two hadn’t shown up and taken what I was going to scrap.”

Jungkook looks even more perplexed. “You were going to scrap that? Do you know how much you could’ve sold that for elsewhere?”

“And how the hell would I have done that? Did you see any convenient places to do it while you were there?” You turn and walk away. Namjoon can tell him what to do till he’s blue in the face, but you know that won’t change Jungkook’s behavior when Namjoon’s not there to force him to be nice. “Do whatever you want. I’ll see you back at the shop.”

You wander the market for a little while. Trying not to stray too far and get lost. That’s the last thing you need, getting lost on an unfamiliar planet with no money and no place to go. You don’t walk for too long, fear of getting lost and hungry forcing you to head back to the shop, finding a bench nearby to sit on. At least sitting wouldn’t expend your energy too much. You watch people as they come and go in the market, thinking about how the future might end up. 

You’re tired, but years of being on the run keeps you alert enough, knowing that this is the worst place you could possibly fall asleep. Even if you don’t have that much with you, you’d most likely just be sold off yourself. A shadow falls over you and you look up to see Jungkook. You close your eyes. You don’t want to deal with him picking another fight right now. 

The smell of cooking meat fills your senses and you blink your eyes open to see a skewer of meat in front of your face. You look up to Jungkook’s face and he’s stubbornly looking away. You reach up slowly, afraid that this might just be some cruel trick, and take the meat from his hand. 

Once you’ve taken it, he moves to sit beside you. “I guess I can’t let you starve if I want to see you fail the trials.” 

You hide your smile by taking a bite. That’s a flimsy excuse and you both know it, but you let it slide. Jungkook produces a small box full of more skewers and sets it on the bench between the both of you and takes one for himself. 

You eat in silence and it’s nice. You don’t feel quite as alone with him beside you as you did when you were here by yourself. Even if he does wish that you’d been left in a tomb on some backwater planet. It’s not friendship, but it’s something. It’s enough for now.

The time passes quickly, it gets marginally darker, but the cloud cover makes it hard to tell that any time passed at all. Jungkook stands and leads you back into the shop. Bhea is waiting for you both when you enter. 

“Excellent. Everything is all finished. Come, come. Let’s get you changed.”

“Bhea.” Jungkook stops her and she glances at him in confusion. “We’ll take them to go. She can change on the ship. She should bathe first. It’s been a long day.”

You can’t tell if that’s a subtle dig at you or if he’s being genuinely caring. Or if he just wants to leave. Bhea purses her lips before she looks you over and tuts. 

“Fine. But you still need to come with me so I can make sure you know how to wear everything.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. “It’s clothing. Is it really that hard to figure out?”

You pat his cheek. “When it’s high fashion, if it’s not complicated, it’s not good.” You look over his clothes. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

You turn around before you catch the way his face scrunches up as Bhea laughs. She leads you to the back room where she meticulously goes over each piece. Turns out you really do need her instructions, simply for the fact that she gave you options and she needs to tell you how to mix and match. Once you’re reasonably confident that you understand the different pieces to what is essentially your new uniform, she packs it all up for you.

When you take it, she folds her hand over yours to keep you in place and looks you in the eye. She nods. “You’ll fit very well.”

You frown at the cryptic words. Does she mean the clothes? Or is there something else to them? She releases you, shooing you out to Jungkook. 

“I’ll send the payment request on to Lord Namjoon.” She smiles and waves. 

Jungkook gives her a small bow and you do the same. You exit back to the market and Jungkook turns away from the port. You frown in confusion, following after. 

“Where are we going?”

“You need a comm and it’s better to get it here than on Korriban,” he states matter of factly. 

You let out a soft ‘oh.’ That made sense although you don’t know much about this Korriban. But you figure Jungkook probably knows the best place to get a communicator. You’re a little giddy. You’ve never owned one. They cost far too much for you to have ever afforded and you had no need for one when you were alone. 

You only take a few turns before Jungkook is stopping at a stall where a person with soft mint colored hair is sorting through a box of electronics. The man at the stall turns before either of you say anything and he blinks sleepy, cat-like eyes at you before his gaze slides over to Jungkook. His lips part in a smile. 

“Ah, Jungkookie. What can I do for you today?”

Jungkook flushes at the name, gaze darting to you before going back to the man before you. “Just need a communicator.”

The man raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. “Got something to hide from Namjoon?”

Jungkook flushes darker and glares. “No. It’s for her. Namjoon is paying for it.”

The man chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.” He turns to you. “What kind of communicator do you want? I think I’ve got a few in stock right now.”

You blink, opening your mouth before closing it again. You look at Jungkook helplessly. He sighs when he sees your gaze, turning to the man. 

“Just pull them out, Yoongi. She’s not going to know the technical differences. She can just pick whichever she thinks is prettiest.”

You bristle slightly at the words. Yoongi shrugs, tugging a few devices out from a drawer beneath the table and setting them in front of you. You look them over carefully. 

Jungkook sighs again. “Just pick one. It’s not that hard.”

You glare at him before looking back at the items in front of you. “Just because I’ve never had one before doesn’t mean I don’t understand how electronics work.” You give him a look. “Did you forget how I made a living?”

Yoongi hides a chuckle and picks up one of the devices. “This is probably the newest I’ve got. It’s only one or two models behind what’s current.”

You take it from his outstretched hand, inspecting it carefully. “How did you come by this one?”

“Bought it off a guy.”

“Why did he sell it? What’s wrong with it?”

Yoongi smiles, looking pleased with your questioning. “Nothing’s wrong with it. The idiot got in debt to the wrong person and he needed credits quick. I was happy to oblige.”

You nod thoughtfully. “This is good then. I’ll take it.”

Yoongi nods, putting the other comms away. “You said to bill Joon?” He looks to Jungkook for confirmation.

Jungkook nods. “I’m sure I’ll be bringing it back soon though.” He says with a malicious smirk directed at you. 

You smile sweetly up at him. “Aw, are you planning to buy me a better one once I pass my trials? That’s so sweet of you, Jungkookie.”

Yoongi’s laugh interrupts whatever Jungkook was about to say. “Oh, I think she’s going to do very well.”

Jungkook’s face twists as he spins on his heel to stalk away from the stall. “Let’s go.” He snarls. 

You giggle, giving Yoongi a wave before jogging to catch up to Jungkook. You make your way through the city, trying not to stop and stare in wonder and hoping that you get to come back here when you can explore the place freely. Jungkook stops to talk to someone at the entrance to the port before he’s continuing through the doors. He walks past ship after ship, each one more impressive than the last. 

Finally he stops in front of one that’s a little smaller than many of the previous ones but no less grand than them. He leads you up the ramp and gestures to the left. “There’s a bedroom that way with a bathroom attached. You can shower and change there. The trip to Korriban isn’t terribly long, but better to get ready now. It should be daybreak when we get there and you can be registered and sent to your trial right away.”

He walks the opposite direction before you can ask anything further. You watch him as he disappears around a corner before making your way in the direction he has indicated, hoping it’s easy to find the room he mentioned. Lucky for you, there appears to be only two doors in this direction, the first revealing a storage room and the second revealing the simple bedroom he’d indicated. 

You set your things down on bed, running a hand gently across the bag. It’s the first time in a long while that you’ve actually gotten new clothes, especially ones that are made with such nice fabric. It makes you want to do good in the trial all the more. To prove to Namjoon, and even more so to Jungkook, that you deserve to have these. You sort through the different pieces, choosing what you want your outfit to be and lay them out on the bed. 

You move to the bathroom, it’s small but still more hightech than anything you’ve ever used before. You strip in the doorway, leaving the shabby, dirty clothes from your old life on the floor as you step into the bathroom properly. It only takes you a moment to work out the controls for the water and soon enough, hot water is pouring over you as the small room fills with steam. 

You groan, the water almost too hot to handle, but the way you can already feel the grim sliding from your skin makes it more than worth the slight sting from the heat. You stand under the spray and your thoughts drift again to what the future may hold. This is an interesting opportunity, you certainly never thought that you would end up with the possibility of becoming such a powerful being.

But on the other hand, could you be evil? You’ve really only heard of sith before, stories passed around the compound at night and things told to make a child listen. Meeting Jungkook and Namjoon was your first encounter with one ever and they weren’t quite what you’d come to expect. Did becoming a sith mean something different than what you had originally thought? Were they wholly evil?

Namjoon certainly didn’t seem that way, he could’ve just killed you, easily at that, and left your body in that tomb. No one would’ve known. But he didn’t. Instead, he offered you a choice, money or power. The two things you’ve never had, two things you’ve wanted for as long as you could remember. To have enough of either that you could be your own person. He offered you that chance, how could you say no? When everything you wanted was within your grasp. 

Even Jungkook didn’t seem that evil. You really don’t think that evil people would get embarrassed and blush the way he did with Bhea. Or have such a clear respect for her the way he did. For all the anger he holds towards you, he doesn’t seem to be purposefully malicious. Maybe you could be a sith. Maybe they’ve only gotten bad reps because of the few incredibly powerful sith out there. The public ones, the ones that make names for themselves, that want to be remembered for millenia.  

You look around, finding some soap and scrubbing yourself almost raw in the need to finally feel clean. Once you deem yourself clean enough, and with the idea that maybe you don’t have to be totally evil to be a sith, you shut the water off. You look through the storage cabinets until you find something to dry yourself off with and make your way back into the bedroom. 

You dress slowly, relishing in the feel of the fabric against your skin. It’s so different from the rough material you wore before. You step up to the mirror, making a few final adjustments before you’re giving yourself one last lookover.

You have to give it to Bhea, she certainly knows how to dress a sith. The leather pants are soft and supple, you’d thought they’d be stiff, but you know you’ll be able to easily move in these. They blend in well with the black leather boots. The shirt itself is simple, just a plain black tank top in a soft, breathable fabric, but it’s topped by a short vest in a deep blue, strands of beads latching it closed across your breasts and joining the collar to close around your neck. 

Bands of black metal wrap around your wrists and mid-bicep holding sheer fabric in the same shade as the vest, one large slit running the length to allow better movement . Your belt wraps around your waist, a mix of more blue fabric and black metal, panels of more sheer hanging down to your ankles in shifting shades of blue and purple and speckled with glitter, giving the impression of a galaxy. 

You’d think that the skirt would make it hard to move efficiently, but a few experimental stretches show that the panels are put together in a way that they hold large slits to not hinder your movement. You run your fingers through your hair and smile. You feel like an entirely new person and you can’t help but think that maybe this would be a really good change. 

You open the door, startling when you come face to face with Jungkook, who looks just as surprised as you. His gaze drops to your new clothes, eyes widening as he takes in the expanse of skin exposed on your neck and upper chest. You see him swallow before he’s jerking his gaze away, cheeks turning red and his tongue pushing against his cheek, though this time it seems to be for a reason entirely unrelated to being annoyed at you.

“I was just coming to make sure you didn’t break anything.” He mutters. “I see that you’re fine. I’ll be in the cockpit.” And he turns and walks away before you can say anything. 

You hold in a snicker at his reaction, pleased at the way he tried and failed to hide the way his cheeks flushed. You dart after him, following him the short distance to the other side of the ship. 

Your snarky comment dies on your tongue as soon as you cross the threshold, suddenly staring out into space. Your mouth drops open and you move closer to the window, gaze wide eyed as you watch the stars pass you. 

Jungkook watchs you quietly, scowl softening at the way the starlight shines on your wonder-filled face. He clears his throat, shaking his thoughts from his mind, “You might want to sit down. Now that you’re done, we’re going to jump to hyperspace.”

You turn to stare at him, watching as he takes a seat at the controls and it takes you a second to realize what he said, scurrying to take the seat beside him before he decides to go ahead while you’re still standing. You watch in fascination at the way his hands flit over the controls, completely at ease and confident in his motions. 

The ship jerks slightly and you turn your gaze back to the window as the stars turn into streaks of light, blurring by as you fly through space. You don’t know how long it lasts, it feels like you blink and the stars are starting to return to pinpricks of light as a massive red planet looms before you both. 

Jungkook sets the ship down with minimal fuss before he’s leading you off the ship. The land surrounding the landing bay is arid and sandy and your nose wrinkles in distaste. You just came from sand and now you’re back. Why couldn’t they have built this somewhere nicer. 

You trail after Jungkook as he moves inside, easily navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the building. He stops by what appears to be an armory, motioning for you to stay by the door while he goes to speak to the Twi’lek in there. They exchange a few laughs before the Twi’lek hands something to Jungkook that looks like a stun baton. He hands it to you once he’s close enough. 

Frowning, you tentatively take it. “What is it?”

He snorts, eyes rolling as he starts walking again. “Well you can’t get a saber until you pass your trials. But you need some sort of weapon to take them. That’s a training saber. All acolytes use them for their trials. If you pass, then you’ll get a lightsaber.”

You give it a few practice swings, testing its weight, narrowly missing Jungkook’s arm. He gives you a dark look and you sheepishly drop your arm. You hadn’t actually meant to almost hit him, the balance hadn’t been what you were expecting. He makes a few more turns before entering another room. You linger in the doorway but Jungkook waves you to follow until you’re standing before a man sitting at a desk.

“Overseer. This is the… acolyte that Lord Namjoon would like to put into the trials.”

The Overseer’s brow raises, a playful smirk on his face as he eyes you over before he’s looking at Jungkook. “He looking for an upgrade?”

Jungkook’s shoulder tense, but his words come out friendly and joking. “Shut up. You know no one can best me.” He gestures you closer. “She’s all yours. I’ll be upstairs in the training rooms.” He pauses before an almost sinister smile stretches his lips. “Test her well.”

You bat your eyelashes up at him, lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. “Aw, you’re not gonna stick around to watch me pass? I thought we were friends.”

Jungkook makes a face of disgust. “Like I would ever stoop so low for friends.” He snarls before leaving. 

The Overseer laughs as he watches Jungkook’s retreating figure before he’s standing and beckoning you to follow him through a different door. 

The room he leads you to is massive, but holds only a large table in the middle of the room. With a wave of his hand, the table comes to life to reveal that it’s a holo map. He walks the length of the table before stopping at an outcropping of rocks. He gestures to the ends of the table where you can see what looks like part of the building you’re currently in is sat then draws your attention to the area he’s standing by. 

“That is the exit to the Valley. This is a tomb that holds a holocron full of ancient secrets. Retrieve it and bring it back here.”

You squint at him. That seems way too easy. “That’s all?”

He gestures to the expanse between the two points. “Well you have to get there on your own. And remember the way back. If you get lost out there, you’re on your own.”

“How long do I get?”

He snorts. “You just need to bring it back. Time doesn’t matter for this.”

You step closer to examine the map. It doesn’t seem too terribly far to the tomb, though there are a few twists and turns on the way and it certainly seems like it’d be easy enough to get lost. And getting lost on a desert planet is never good. 

“Do I get supplies?” You look up at him.

“Do you need them?” He seems slightly perplexed, like he’s never been asked that before.

You walk around the table, tracing the best path to take. “It’s not very long. But given the unfamiliar terrain, weather, and day cycle, it could take longer than one would think. Also, once in there it could take a while. I doubt this would be some sort of trial if it were as easy as walking a ways to a tomb and retrieving a holocron.” You glance at the saber. “And highly doubt I would need a weapon for something easy. So, yes, supplies seem necessary.”

He nods appraisingly at you. “I can see why Lord Namjoon is interested in you.” He gestures behind you to a set of large double doors. “When you go through there, there’s a small requisitions area you can get supplies at. The room then opens out into the Valley.” He approaches you. “There’s one last thing before I let you go. ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.’ The Sith Code. That is your new philosophy. Learn it. Etch it into your heart because it is one with you now as much as the Force is.”

You nod, repeating the words in your head, feeling exhilarated at the rush of power that follows. 

The Overseer nods and gestures to the table. “Take as much time as you need in here and begin whenever you are ready. You know what you must do.”

With that, he leaves, retreating back to his office. You watch him go before turning back to the map and looking over the path you want to take to the tomb. It’s simple enough but you go over it multiple times, committing it to memory and working out landmarks you can use to keep you from getting too hopelessly lost if you happen to get turned around out there. He said there was no time component but you can’t help but feel like you need to go at least a little fast. Something about the dismissive way that Jungkook thinks that you won’t pass makes you want to succeed and succeed quickly. Maybe also because you want to impress Namjoon, prove that you’re worth the chance he took on you. 

Once you’re reasonably confident that you know the path, you go through the door the Overseer had indicated, met with a smaller room that opens to the outside. The building sits on a rise on this side, you can see the sand sloping away from the building and the way the maze-like canyon of tombs is laid out almost from above. The room for the most part sits empty, sand beginning to creep back into the building from the doorway to outside. One wall of the room is taken by a counter, behind which you see a Chiss woman working among some shelves. 

When you approach, she looks a little surprised but pauses her work to meet you at the counter. “How can I help you?” She asks with a tilt of her head. 

“I wanted to get some supplies for my trials.”

“For your trials? You think it’ll take that long?”

You don’t understand why they keep pushing like this is strange. There’s obviously more to your trial than what was told. Being better prepared means that you have an even better chance of survival. “Yes.” You gesture toward the door leading out. “You can’t predict weather in a place like this. Or what’s going to happen once you get into a tomb.” You knew that one painfully well. “If I want to survive and pass, I should make sure I’m as well equipped as possible, yes?”

Her lips curl into a pleased smile. “Of course.” She slides a small datapad over. “This is everything available to acolytes. Choose whatever you feel you need.”

You glance over the list, it’s fairly small, but you suppose they don’t want to give too much to people who may not return and they’d prefer to not lose things to the tomb when they already hold such secrets. That certainly won’t be you though. 

“I’ll take a medkit, a couple of rations, a fire starter, flashlight, and a small blanket. Oh, and a shoulder bag.” 

The woman nods and moves among the shelves, gathering the things that you noted. She slides them across the counter to you. 

“You’re all set. Good luck acolyte. You certainly have more promise than some others I’ve seen venture out into the desert with nothing but their training saber.” She gives you a nod and turns back to the shelves.

You take the bag, arranging your supplies in it before slipping it over your head and adjusting it so it sits comfortably on your hip. You pause at the doorway, looking out over the Valley before you. You close your eyes and recite the code in your head again, smiling when that same heady rush of power fills you. Determination in your eyes as you open them, you set foot into the Valley. 

You make it to the tomb relatively easily. You barely had to rely on your memory of the location, your body just seemed to know where to go and you trusted your instincts. You had one momentary hiccup where you had to fight a giant beast with tusks that were easily the size of your arm. You’d thought you’d be able to just skirt around it, but it seemed to sense you and once it’s gaze locked on you, it was relentless in pursuit. It was an ugly thing but fierce. Luckily it was so big that it wasn’t very nimble and you could easily navigate around it. You’ve fought big things before and know that if you can get on top that it’s all over for them. Especially when you have something as powerful as the training saber. You can’t wait to get your real one.

The entrance to the tomb is open but deserted and it leaves you instantly on high alert. You move slowly inside to see that torches have been lit and hung on pillars, casting a flickering glow on the walls. You pause, listening to see if you can hear anyone else, but there’s only the faint sound of the wind blowing through the valley behind you. 

Moving cautiously, you creep further into the tomb. The Overseer didn’t tell you where exactly the holocron was going to be, but the tomb can’t be that complicated to navigate, at least given the previous one you’d been in. You check for signs of recent activity, but aside from the lit torches, there appears to be no signs of people having recently been in the antechamber. 

You take a second to look closer around the room, noticing two halls that branch off from this room. Pursing your lips, you move closer to one side, trying to read the inscription beside the hall but it’s written in a language you don’t understand so it’s not particularly helpful. 

You glance between the two ways once again, but something tells you that this is the one you need to go down. Your instincts haven’t failed you yet so you head down the hallway, careful to keep your steps light and soundless. 

The path doesn’t branch, just twists and turns and it feels like ages before you come to another room. You crouch, because you hear voices echoing here. You peek around the corner, keeping yourself pressed as close to the wall as possible and slowly scan the room before you. It takes you a few minutes before you discover the source of the voices, a few figures tucked amongst some pillars and rubble and shadows. 

You double check the rest of the room, ensuring that the only people here are those gathered in the small group. When you confirm the rest of the room's emptiness, you look for a way to creep closer, there’s too much echo and they’re speaking too lowly for you to hear what exactly they’re saying beyond that they are speaking. A downed pillar stretches out from the door towards the group and if you stay low enough to the ground, they won’t be able to see you. 

Creeping along, you’re careful to avoid any loose rubble so you don’t alert the others to your presence. Once close enough, you stop and listen to the conversation happening. 

“We’ve tried everything. We’re never going to pass if we can’t get in there.” One says, voice laced with irritation.

“I know that. But it’s clearly meant to be open. We just have to find the right key. What did the inscription say again?”

“The essence of life, the key to power, bathe the crystal to gain it’s knowledge.” You hear a third recite. 

You didn’t see any sort of crystal when you entered. It must be further in then.

“That’s so stupid. Why do they always have to be vague?” The first one sighs.

You listen as the two begin discussing what they’ve tried and what the inscription could mean, missing that the second person hasn’t spoken in a while until their voice suddenly comes from much closer. 

“Well, well. What have we here?” You look up with wide eyes as the red skinned man towers over your crouched form. You’ve never seen a Sith pureblood before, but you’ve heard plenty about them. His eyes shrewdly take in your form before he’s laughing cruelly. He glances over to his companions. “I think I’ve got a few new ideas to try to get that door open.”

He reaches for you but you quickly push yourself back and scramble to your feet. You see the other two have also risen to their feet and look startled by your sudden appearance. You put some more space between them and yourself. You look them over and see that they each have training sabers of their own. Acolytes. You knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as just walking into a tomb and retrieving a holocron. 

The Sith approaches you slowly. “You know, there’s one thing that’s very vital to life. Something that just happens to be liquid and we can easily use to bathe a crystal in.” He muses and you feel your stomach sink at the implication. 

The other two look lost for a moment before realization crosses their faces, replaced by matching smirks. One of them speaks. “Seems there’s someone looking out for us.”

Three blades are pulled out and your chest constricts. One you could probably take. Three at once? You’d think you’d have better chances at fighting a herd of those beasts from earlier. You roll your shoulders and pull your own saber out. You think of Jungkook and the smarmy look that would surely be on his face if you fail and let that rage fill you.

You smirk. “You can certainly try.”

The Sith steps back, letting the other two advance on you. You know there’s too much rubble where you were eavesdropping for a good fight, all too easy to lose your footing and so you back up towards the middle of the room where the rubble is more sparse. They follow, and you can tell by their snickering that they think you’re backing away because you’re scared. What a joke they’d make becoming sith if they can’t even think about their surroundings while starting a fight. 

Your saber hums to life with little effort and you level the two with an eyebrow raised in challenge. The smaller of the two charges, saber held aloft and you easily deflect the intended blow. He’s sloppy in his movements, he clearly doesn’t have a lot of formal training weilding a weapon. Sabers and poles are vastly different but many of the principles are similar and that is going to give you an advantage over this one at the very least. 

He lets out a frustrated cry and spins to try to attack again, but it’s another blow that you easily shrug off. If he was smart he’d work with his companions to attack instead of doing it alone. His next attack, you deflect and grab his wrist twisting until he drops his saber with a yelp of pain. Once it’s out of his hand you shove him roughly away and he stumbles and falls at his companion’s feet. 

You stoop down to pick up his fallen saber, grinning at the three wide eyed looks you recieve. You twirl them both. “Well, are we doing this?”

The one who’s saber you took struggles to his feet, looking helplessly to his companions. The other leans over to whisper in his ear and then they’re both moving together, the smaller one circling behind you, while the other approaches you from the front. You listen carefully for the one you can’t see while keeping your eyes focused on the one in front of you. 

This one seems a lot more calculating in their movements, slower and more careful to act than the first. They’ll be a little more difficult, but they still seem to underestimate you. They attack and you block with one saber while using the other to make your own attack while they’re distracted. They’re not distracted enough, just barely dodging your attack and moving quickly out of your range. You meet in a few instances of blows and parries before they manage to catch your wrist when you try to attack. 

You're quickly seized from behind by the other, arms tight around your waist. You squirm in his hold but his grip remains firm. The one holding your wrist tightens their grip in a clear bid to get you to drop the saber but remembering your fight with Jungkook, you quickly lift your feet, taking advantage of the one holding you and kicking the one in front of you. 

All three of you are pushed back, your landing cushioned by the body beneath you, leaving you less stunned than either of them. You turn quickly, slamming the butt of the saber into the side of his head and his head lulls to the side. You try not to think if it’s in unconsciousness or death. That’ll be something to dwell on later.

Panting, you push yourself to your feet, watching as the other struggles to their feet as well, blood dripping from their temple. They look furious and rush you, clearly past cautiousness and just wanting to be rid of you. Their fast and brutal attacks leave you struggling to keep up and block, a couple glancing blows leaving burns on your arms. 

You can’t let this be the end. You didn’t run away from your slave life just to fail when your true freedom is within reach. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and let the force flow through you. You push back, forcing the other to take steps back or risk being hit. They get only a few steps before they trip over a piece of rubble, saber dropping from their hand. 

You point one saber at their throat. “I would give up.” You warn.

They snarl at you. “As if I ever would. You’re weak.” 

You press the tip of the other saber to their chest until they cry out from the searing pain. They spit something else at you, blindly reaching for their saber and you press the tip more firmly into their chest, it sinks half an inch into the flesh.

“Surrender.”

“I’ll die either way. Better in a fight than to be called a coward.” They push themselves up just enough for the saber to sink a little further in, crying out in pain. 

You hesitate. Did it make you evil to kill them? It was self defense. Kill or be killed. Would they have been killed if they made it back unsuccessfully? You realize that the way the Overseer had spoken that yes, they were likely to be killed if they made it back without completing their task. Or worse, enslaved. This is a mercy, you think as you push the saber completely through their chest. 

They splutter, blood dripping from their mouth as they twitch once before dropping, lifeless, back to the ground. You take a second to process, even when escaping enslavement, you hadn’t killed anyone. You blink a few times before jerking the saber out of their chest, ignoring the conflicting feelings you still have and turn back to the Sith.  

He hasn’t moved since he discovered you, standing there passively observing your fight with his own saber drawn. He looks from one body to the other and shrugs. 

“Well you saved me the trouble. But I’m afraid that this is the end for you now.”

You snort. “Good luck.”

He tilts his head. “Bold for someone untrained.”

“No, I just know what’s at stake and what I have to prove.”

He nods slightly, stepping close but stopping a few feet away from you. He doesn’t move further. He’s a lot more confident and most likely has had more training. You assume this was exactly what the Overseer was banking on since he didn’t seem confident in your return. He doesn’t even seem all that worried about the impending fight, stance relaxed, saber held loosely at his side. He looks more like he’s going for a stroll than a fight.

You flex your grip on your sabers. You’ve never fought two handed before, but having them in your hands feels right. It gives you the confidence that you can handle this fight. 

He continues to stand in place and you assume he’s waiting for you to make a move, hoping to use whatever momentum you create against you. Meaning that you can’t attack first, you have to wait. It’s strange to stand there waiting to be attacked, but you won’t give in to his play. 

He snorts when the minutes continue to stretch then his free hand raises and with a flick of his wrist, you’re pushed back; stumbling and tripping over some rubble. Your arm scraps against the stone, fine lines of red forming. You push yourself up, face hard. Against your better judgement, you charge. You have to, you have to get close to do any damage. Your control of the Force is severely lacking and that’s definitely come back to hurt you here. You just have to think a step ahead of him; if he knows what he’s going to do when you charge, you have to know how to counter that. 

He sidesteps the attack and you turn, foot kicking out and connecting with his side. He slams into the pillar. He shoves himself off of it with a snarl. He seems to be done playing around, advancing on you slightly quicker than you had anticipated. You take a few steps back, feet shifting to give you a better bracing stance. You know his attack is going to be fast and brutal, giving you no easy way to maneuver so you need to be prepared now. 

The first clash of his blade against yours has your feet sliding back an inch with the force of it. The impact vibrates your whole arm. You try to get an attack in with your other saber, but he quickly grabs your wrist, squeezing until it starts to hurt. You push with the other blade, just enough force to send him back and get him to release your hand. You only get a second’s reprieve before he’s attacking again. 

Time blurs as you fight, it’s a struggle to keep up with him. He’s at an advantage, he didn’t have to fight 2 other people first. Your muscles ache but you can’t stop for even a second; it could be a matter of life or death. He gets a few hits in, nothing too bad, but you can feel the blood dripping from each wound, feel the tug of singed skin with each movement. You get a few hits in too; which seems to enrage him all the more. 

He begins to get sloppy the angrier he gets; it makes his moves both easier and harder to predict. But you work out a tentative plan, if you can get him prone, you can win this. You’ve just gotta get him on the ground first. Your fight has moved you across a large part of the room and you manage to catch sight of some large loose stones behind him. You grit your teeth, forcing him further back, towards the stones. He deflects your attack and you are completely blindsided when his fist connects with your jaw. 

It sends you stumbling, one saber dropping from your hand and you taste iron on your tongue. You spit, turning back and bringing the saber still in your hands down with all your strength. He stumbles from the force of the impact, taking a step back to brace himself but he ends up stepping on some rubble and he falls. 

You stomp the heel of your boot into his wrist until his saber falls and you kick it away. His hand raises and you can feel the Force gathering around it. You mirror him, trying your best to draw the Force to you the way he is. The blasts meet between you both, each of you being pushed back a few inches. Sweat beads along your hairline as all your concentration and will goes into matching the strength of his push.

Pain blossoms in your head and you wince, but you push past the pain, ignoring it as best you can as you struggle to take a step forward. It takes a minute, but you manage the step and the small victory gives you enough of an encouraging boost to continue to slowly advance on the man. He seems mildly surprised but aside from the slight rise in his eyebrows, he appears unphased. 

The pain in your head is excruciating when you’re finally close enough to him and something wet drips from your nose. It takes everything you have left to lift your other hand, the one that, by some miracle, still clutches your saber. You take a breath, gaze meeting his and you smirk in triumph. 

He looks confused for only a second before you embed the saber in as far as you can. His hand spasms and a massive burst of energy erupts, sending you both flying. You slam into some rubble, wheezing as dust rises around you. Stars dance in your vision and you can feel consciousness slipping away from you. 

Gasping awake, you stare at the ceiling. You hadn’t even realized you’d passed out; you also have no idea how long you may have been passed out for. It could’ve been minutes or hours, even a whole day or more is possible. All you really know is that everything hurts. And it’s a testament to how out of it you are that it takes you a moment to realize that the fact that you’re awake at all must mean that you succeeded. 

You pant as you struggle to push yourself upright. You hurt and when you reach up to touch the back of your head, your hand comes away red and wet. That certainly explains the dizziness and the difficulty you have standing now. You have to take a moment standing completely still before you feel confident enough to move at all and even when you do, you stumble and trip the whole way to your pack. 

You dig through it, pulling the medpac out once you find it and rifling through until you find the bacta salve. Your fingers slip when you try to open it and you nearly drop it. Wiping your hands off on your clothes, your second attempt is much more successful. Blindly reaching behind you, you rub some of the salve onto your head where it seems wettest; it leaves your hair feeling heavy and greasy. You have no idea if you actually managed to cover the wound with the healing salve but the lessening sting you feel seems to say that you at least got some of it close enough to get some of the effects. You spend some time spreading some across the rest of your wounds and the small container is quickly emptied. You can only hope nothing worse happens to you. 

You slump against the pillar once finished. You feel like you could sleep for a week. But you don’t have the luxury of time here. Plus, you’re fairly certain that even if your current competition is dealt with, there’s sure to be more coming. You give yourself a few minutes though, taking the time to see if the medpac holds any sort of painkiller; which to your luck, it does. 

You swallow the pills dry before you push yourself back to your feet. Shouldering your pack and collecting both your saber and the new one you’re now claiming as yours, one of which you have a hard time prying from the chest of the dead Sith, you move towards the only other door in this room, the one that the three other acolytes had been gathered next to. If you’d been the first one here, you probably wouldn’t have even realized it was actually a door. The whole thing was made of the same stone as the wall and pillars surrounding it, the seams barely noticeable. The only difference to the walls is the small plaque sent into the wall beside a recessed circle of stone just a little bigger than your hand, a small crystal set in the center of it. 

You look over the plaque, but it does you no good because you have no idea what language it’s written in. It takes you a minute to recall what the acolytes had said it said. The essence of life, the key to power, bathe the crystal to gain it’s knowledge. They had seemed to have some idea of the answer when they discovered you. Essence of life? You glance at your hand, once again streaked with blood. Oh, essence of life. 

Tentatively you reach out, smearing your blood onto the crystal. You step back expectantly. You frown when nothing happens, blood has to be the essence of life. Why didn’t it work? You think through the inscription again. You’ve got the essence of life… The key to power?

Oh. Oh, you need more than just the essence to open this. You step forward, you don’t have the slightest idea on how to do this, but you’ve got to try at the very least. The circle did seem pretty conveniently hand sized. The stone is cool against your palm, but the crystal feels oddly warm. The Force is the key to power, you just have to figure out how to channel it with no previous training. Closing your eyes, you focus on getting something to happen. But after a few moments where nothing changes, you open your eyes again with a huff. 

You think back to when Jungkook had you by the throat and the power you felt gathering around you when you kicked him away, to all the occurences during the fight where you felt the force surround you like a cloak. But no matter how hard you try, there’s no shift in the air around you. You growl in frustration, shoving ineffectually at the wall. 

Why was it so hard to get the Force to cooperate with you now? You hadn’t even been trying before. You think back through everything you’ve been told, which isn’t all that much, but you really hope that maybe there’s a clue hidden somewhere in someone’s words. But you woefully can’t find much of anything that might help, the only thing you really learned was the sith code. 

You pause, the code. You know you might look stupid, but luckily there’s no one around right now to see that. You place your hand back in the circle, taking a calming breath. Then you recite the sith code, feeling power cloak you and slide down your arm. It connects with the crystal and searing pain shoots up your arm as lightning races across your skin. 

You cry out in pain, jerking your hand away from the wall. The pain stops immediately but the door remains firmly shut. You chew your lip, looking down at your hand. It looks completely unscathed, you wiggle your fingers and aside from a slight tingle of discomfort, you’d have thought you imagined the lightning. 

Had you done something wrong? The inscription seemed easy enough, there doesn’t seem like another component to it. You decide to try again, maybe you just weren’t concentrating enough. However the same thing happens when you try again. You need to do this. You need to prove that you have what it takes, you refuse to give Jungkook the satisfaction of seeing you fail and being right. You know you’re strong enough to be better than him. 

Your eyes widen, strength. That had to be what you were missing here. With power, sith value strength, if you lack strength then you lack power. You stare at the wall, this isn’t going to be pleasant. 

Putting your hand back into the slot, you steel yourself, gritting your teeth as the lightning starts as soon as you finish reciting the code. It hurts. You have to brace your other hand on the wall in an attempt to keep you grounded and from pulling your hand away. You think of how smug Jungkook would be if you never came back. You refuse to fail.

You don’t know how long the pain lasts; you feel slightly delirious from the crackle of power that traces your veins. But as abruptly as it came, it stops, leaving you breathless. There’s stone grinding against stone and the wall rumbles beneath your hands. You slowly pull away, afraid that it’ll stop and you’ll have to endure another round of pain. To your relief, it continues and soon enough the door is swinging open before you. The hallway that is revealed is dark for a moment before crystals lining the walls slowly come to life, swathing the length of the hall in a red glow. 

You wait, making sure that nothing else is going to happen before stepping cautiously into the hall and making your way down it. Halfway down the hallway, an odd feeling settles in your gut and you find yourself stepping back. Your confusion at the action is short lived when a moment later, lightning arcs between the walls where you had just been about to walk. It looks much more lethal than what engulfed you to open the door. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful for whatever it was that tipped you off to the trap. You proceed carefully, hoping that there’s not anymore traps or if there are, that you can sense it before it’s too late. You safely reach the end of the hall, the room is small, barely wider than the hall. In the center of the room is a pedestal, about the width of your shoulders, on which sits a jet black pyramid, the top quarter of which is clear. 

Approaching carefully, you look through the transparent material and can just make out the shape of the holocron within. You run your fingers across the surface of the pyramid, looking for anything that may open it, but the material is completely smooth, even where the two different materials join is seamless. You look around the room, hoping for any other clues, but the room is all smooth stone, no inscriptions or writings or anything. You walk a few circles around the pedestal, trying to figure out how to continue when something begins to glow in the corner, drawing your attention. A wash of blue fills the corner, quickly forming the shape of a woman. It’s hard to tell her race, her entire being is tinted blue, but she’s unmistakably a sith. There’s something about the way she holds herself and the thick black robes that shroud her form. 

She gazes at you calmly, gaze trailing slowly over you and you’ve never felt more insignificant and scrutinized, not even when Namjoon looked at you. Her lips curl into a pleased smile and she gives a small nod. A soft click sounds and you turn to see the pyramid has opened, granting you access to the holocron within. When you turn back to the figure, whether to question her or thank her you’re not sure, but she’s gone once you look back.

You belatedly realize she must have been a Force ghost. You’ve heard the tales of them, but you didn’t think you’d ever encounter one in your life. She had looked almost… approving of you being here. You wonder who she was and, more importantly, why she had helped you. At least, you assume she helped you. There’s really no other explanation as to why or how the pyramid opened when she nodded. You quickly gather the holocron, tucking is safely away inside your bag. 

You take the hall back to the antechamber, sparing a glance to the bodies that remain. You feel a little bad about just leaving them there. But you know if it were reversed that they’d have left you here to rot too. And, you reason, this is a tomb. Bodies are meant to rest here. It’s better than being left outside and rot away under the sun just to be torn apart and eaten by animals. 

You continue through the ruins, retracing your path back to the entrance quietly, sure to keep an ear listening for anyone who may have come after you. You encounter no one though and you take only a moment at the doorway to outside to recall your route back to the Academy before you’re setting out. 

You make it maybe halfway before the wind picks up. You freeze, sudden wind is never good. You take a look around, quickly locating the rapidly approaching wall of tan in the distance. Scanning your surroundings in the valley, you see no immediate place to take shelter and panic rises in you. You try to recall the map and if there’s something nearby, but you hadn’t paid much attention to other tombs and areas of the map. You really wish you had. You glance back to the approaching storm, you don’t have long before you get trapped in it. Quickening your pace, you continue on the path back to the academy, hoping that you can find shelter along the way soon. 

The sand starts to whip around you and you grab a cloth from your bag to cover your nose and mouth to at least keep you from breathing in the sand now that the storm is practically on top of you and you’ve yet to find somewhere to hide. You’re about to give up hope on finding shelter when the slightest glint of metal off to your right catches your attention and you don’t even think twice before sprinting towards it. 

You make it through the threshold just as the storm begins in earnest outside, the sudden gusts pushing you further inside. You double over, coughing, as you try to catch your breath and expel the sand that you managed to breath in. You wheeze for a moment before pushing yourself upright, glancing around to finally take in your surroundings. 

You assume it’s another tomb, though this one appears far more modern than the previous one, given that this one is all polished metal. There’s signs that this has been explored thoroughly, which leaves you feeling a little relieved because that means that it’s unlikely that anyone will be here right now. Turning, you look out the opening to watch the sandstorm. You have no idea how long it’ll last, sandstorms are incredibly unpredictable and you could be here for only a few minutes to a few weeks. You just hope that it’s not the weeks option. 

You set your bag down by the door before slowly making your way around the room, fingers tracing along the wall as you look at the different inscriptions and occasional graffiti. You freeze when your fingers connect with a section of wall that feels different. You take a step back, looking over the wall and trying to figure out what’s different. 

It looks the same as the rest of the walls, but when your fingers touched it, you could tell there was something different. You put one hand on the section of wall that’s odd and one on the wall beside where it starts to feel different. It takes you a few moments before you realize what the difference means. This is a door. One that’s incredibly well hidden, blending in perfectly with the walls that surround it. 

Leaning closer, you begin to look for a way to open it. Deciding to use some of your newly gained experience, you use a bit of the force to assist you and a panel slides open, revealing a crystal similar to the one from the other tomb. You’re leery of activating it, for fear of the lightning happening again, but also that something worse might happen. But the idea of finding something that had been missed sends a thrill through you and you smile at the image in your mind of gifting whatever you find to Namjoon. You wonder if he’d give you a dimpled smile again. You wonder how pissed Jungkook would be to see you hand something new over to Namjoon.

You squeeze your eyes closed as you touch the gem, willing a little of the Force into it. There’s a click and then the crystal is sliding away from your fingers at the door swooshes open. The room revealed is small; you’ve seen closets bigger than this. You step forward, there’s not much to see in here though and you feel dismayed that this has been found already. 

There’s a small chest on the wall opposite the door and you pick it up to take it back out into the antechamber so you can keep an eye on the storm. You sit against the wall, watching the wall of sand outside before turning your attention to the chest. Opening reveals that maybe the room hadn’t been discovered because the chest is still full. 

You pull the items out one by one; there’s an amulet, a bracelet, a ring, two scrolls, and a small black dagger. You feel a faint thrum of power from each of the items as you turn them over in your hands. You have no idea what any of them do or are for, but you know this seems exactly like something Namjoon would enjoy. At least you hope so. You don’t know a lot about your future master, but he seems the type to like knowledge. You tuck all of the items safely away in your pack, resolving to keep them hidden from the Overseer. He never said you had to turn everything you found in, just the holocron. 

Setting aside the chest, you stare out the door for lack of anything else to do. It seems it’s going to be a longer one when one hour then two pass and the storm has yet to lighten up in any way. You eat, pace the perimeter of the room again, look over the artifacts you found. But nothing outside changes. You’re not even sure just how much time has passed, but you know it’s been a while because it’s nearly pitch black out, making the howling of the wind all the more eerie. Deciding that there’s nothing else you can do because of the storm, you pull out the blanket and your fire starter and create a small fire with some of the discarded items strewn about the room. You hunker down beside it, blanket wrapped around yourself. You’re just glad that you’re used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions, sleeping on this floor is nothing and you drift into a light doze soon enough. 

Bright sunlight jolts you awake. You blink at the brightness, squinting as you look towards the door to see that the storm has cleared finally. You groan and push yourself up. Your whole body aches, the effects of the fight making themselves known. You pay it little mind, gathering your things and stepping back out into the Valley. It takes you a moment to get your bearings, but you see that the storm didn’t get you too far from the path you need to take. Confident that you can make it back to the Academy soon, you set out once again.

Lucky for you, you do make it back with no more issues and the cool metal interior of the Academy is the most welcoming thing you’ve ever experienced. The shop is shuttered so you limp your way through the room and to the map room. It also appears empty and so you make your way to the Overseer’s office and hear voices. You’re relieved that you won’t have to try to hunt for someone in this massive building. 

You enter, realizing that the Overseer is actually talking to Jungkook. Well, it seems more accurate that they’re laughing and talking shit about you. Anger bubbles up in you and you stalk forward, digging the holocron from your pack as you go. 

Slamming it on the desk between the two, they both startle, turning to look at you. You stare at Jungkook. “Your holocron, Overseer.”

“There’s no way-” 

You wheel on the Overseer, expression hard. “Would you like to go see the corpses?”

He looks taken aback, quickly averting his gaze from yours to carefully take the holocron from you. He turns it over a few times before nodding. He looks apologetically to Jungkook. 

“Congratulations. You’ve passed. We can continue on to less time consuming trials.” 

You beam, turning back to Jungkook. “How lucky for me, hm?”

The rest of your trials go well and, in just a week, you’re back on the ship, headed back to Dromund Kaas, much to Jungkook’s absolute displeasure. The more of your trials that you passed, the more irritated you could see him getting. You take an incredibly long shower once on the ship, accessing the damage still prevalent on your body. After seeing a medic, you’re not as torn up as you had been. But there’s still some slight bruising and minor scratches you can see. 

The shower does wonders to revitalize you after your trials, as does the knowledge that you’re on your way back to see Namjoon and you can present your findings to him, hopefully with Jungkook in the vicinity. You don’t spend any time with Jungkook on this trip, choosing instead to stay in the small bedroom, and he seems putout that he has to come find you so you can both leave. 

Once you arrive on Dromund Kaas, Jungkook leads you to the Academy and towards the Artificer in the basement. There, you take great delight in learning and helping craft your two new sabers, happily clipping them to your belt once finished. You make note to come back here to learn more from the Artificer because this seems like an interesting skill to take up. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes when he sees you have two sabers strapped to your belt. “Really? Need a backup just in case you fumble?”

You glare at him. “Hey rockhead, plenty of accomplished sith have used two sabers. At least it’s not a double sided one.” You smirk as your gaze drifts to his own saber resting on his hip. “Those aren’t even that useful in combat.”

You walk off before he can respond. You have absolutely no idea where you’re going, but you’ll be damned if you let Jungkook get the last word. If you really need help, you can always just ask someone to point you in the direction of Namjoon’s office. You hear the thud of boots and then Jungkook is beside you, gently directing you towards a lift. It doesn’t take you long to reach the office and Jungkook is quick to knock once reaching the door. 

Hearing a soft ‘enter,’ Jungkook presses the door controls and they swish open before you. Namjoon doesn’t look up when you enter, deeply engrossed in reading something on a datapad before him. He only looks up when neither of you say anything for a stretch of time. He smiles and you’re a little dumbfounded to see his dimples again and that they make him look absolutely adorable without a sinister red light shining on his face, words you would definitely never mention to his face. 

“Little one, you’ve returned.” His eyes trail slowly across your figure, taking in your new clothes and he pauses at your sabers, grin becoming impossibly wider. “I see you’ve passed. As I knew you would. I assume everything went well then?”

You go to speak but Jungkook cuts you off as he shoulders past you. “It went just great.” He grumbles, moving to stand beside Namjoon’s desk and faces you, a scowl firmly on his face. 

You scowl back before turning back to beam at Namjoon. “I did. I seemed to impress a lot of people.” You step up to the desk, lifting your bag to rest on the edge as you quickly dig through it. “I had to make a small detour due to a sandstorm during my trial in the valley. But,” you give a smile of triumph as you pull the dagger, scrolls, and amulet from your bag and present them proudly to Namjoon, “it seemed to work in my favor. I found these.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he looks at the items in your hands. Jungkook looks just as surprised to see that you found something you hadn’t mentioned before now. Namjoon takes them from you, carefully inspecting each of them, his face inscrutable. 

“What useless garbage.” Jungkook looks up at you as he takes a step, reaching out and roughly grabbing your arm. “How dare you waste Namjoon’s time like this, you ungrateful little-”

“Jungkook, enough. Let her go.” Namjoon cuts in. 

Jungkook stares at him in bewilderment, grip tightening around your arm. “You can’t be serious, master. She’s just wasting your time with some useless trash that she thinks will get her into your good graces. You can’t-”

Namjoon’s hands slam on the table as he stands, startling both you and Jungkook. He looks far more imposing when he draws himself up to his full height. “I said that was enough, Jungkook. I believe it is for me to decide whether the items are of worth or not, not yours.” His gaze hardens the longer Jungkook continues to hold your arm until finally he rips his hand away from you. You definitely don’t envy him for being on the receiving end of that look. “You may leave now, Jungkook. You have training in the morning. I will send you the instructions later.”

Jungkook stands there, mouth open for a moment before he snaps it shut with a growl. He throws one last hateful look at you before storming out of the room. Silence descends on the room and you begin to nervously fidget the longer it stretches. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought anything back. It probably wasn’t anything that important.

Namjoon sits back down in his chair with a small sigh. “I’m sorry about him, little one. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he’s usually much friendlier.” He looks up at you with a smile. “But we can deal with that later. I’d rather focus on your accomplishments right now. Not only did you complete your trials, which are incredibly difficult for even acolytes that have trained for it their whole lives, but you managed to find something extra.” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “And you snuck them out of the Valley rather than turning them in.”

He looks over the items again, much more at ease now that Jungkook has left. “Where did you find them?”

“I’m not sure. The tomb looked more recent than the one I went into for my trial and it seemed like whatever of importance was there had already been taken. I took shelter there from a sandstorm and while waiting I found a secret door and these were behind it in a plain chest.”

He purses his lips, carefully inspecting each of the items before setting them down on his desk. “I’ll have to take some time to carefully go over these, but they certainly seem like they’ll be fascinating to study. I’m quite proud.”

You feel yourself flush at the praise.

He stands and motions for you to follow as he leaves his office. “Now, I’ve gotten a place set up for you, it’s next to Jungkook’s and in the same building as mine, just on a lower floor. I can take you there so that you can get settled in before we start on your training in earnest. But first,” he grins as he steps out of the academy, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “I believe we should go celebrate such an accomplishment, don’t you think?”

#bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #btsguild #hyunglinenetwork #thekimlinenet #magicshopnet #ficswithluv #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #namkook x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jungkook fanfic #star wars au

[monday-headache]

Hey Simon! Thank you for the amazing ask <3 Right back at you:

I love that you're writing/arting about characters that have never met in canon (Gaige and Sasha, Fiona and Scarlett). What drew you to writing these characters together? And are there any more that you'd love to explore one day? :D

Hey Sarah, glad it made you smile. I want to have more interaction with the fandom so I’ll try to make this a regular, so please be free to send me questions whenever. I’d love to read your thoughts ;)

And Omg, that’s a fantastic question as well but, be aware, this is gonna be an essay as well.

Mhh where to start, where to start.

So first things first, My headcanon of why I think Gaige and Sasha would be best friends started a pretty long while ago, way before I even got gently pushed towards the Idea of really starting to write about it in the first place. Because you must know, even though Strays is my first longshot, it is also my very first fanfc I’ve ever written in like ever. So no matter how shitty, great or whatever it will turn out to be or how well others will be, Strays has and will always have a special place in my heart. And I’m not gonna rush things either, even when the fandom will die out, my Ideas for it will flow ;)

But yeah how it started. To put it simply Gaige was my first character In Borderlands ever that I played myself. I knew about the Lore of 1 and I’ve played 1 with a friend by the time it came out, but I played 1 myself AFTER I finished 2 So that may be a big reason, why I have such an open spot for Gaige. But also because she is fun, quirky extreme, punky, loves robots and tech... to put it simple a lot of traits I really love about a character. Her backstory with the science fair was so fresh and funny, and it may be one of my favorite spoken dialogue interactions heard over echo cassette’s

Then after Bl2 my love for Borderlands continued, played 1, played TPS and then... There was Tales, and by god do I loved Tales, and I hella still do. You probably know the feeling yourself. And with the love for the game, came a huge love for it’s cast. Like seriously I think besides Tector there isn’t really a character where I was going like, “ugh this one is trash” on the contrary. And besides my obvious love for the main 2 characters, there was a big love for the Deutagonist’s of this masterpiece. Namely Sasha and Loaderbot.

Loaderbot may have officially taken the spot for me as most favorite Robot in video game history ever (and Gortys for the most precious character ever). Like his whole segment of kidnapping them, forcing them to tell the truth, only to show how much he had grieved, how betrayed he felt and that he did all of tha  for his loved ones. Man say what you will about him, but damn he was written perfectly. I was blown away.

Secondly is of course, as you might have guessed it Sasha. I could go lengths for her too, how much I love and admire her character, how real she felt as a sister, a pandoran and last but not least as a human. Sasha felt to me like the most well rounded out character of the 6 (pls don’t hate me for it guys) From the punk rebellious attitude, to learning that she had an anti Hyperion pirate radio, that she used to broadcast bad things that happens in her neighbourhood, to her adapting her morals and learn that even in the most corrupt organisations there are still normal people struggling with their own life, and then progressing from it. And lastly after everything was at loss, the money the plan, she was willing to sacrifice her whole life for a dear friend/s, even on her dying breath putting both Rhys and her Sister at ease and in her last moments. Amazing.

Oooh boy and that was just the prelude to it all XD

After that I noticed a lot of similarities, between characters. Sasha and Loaderbot for instance are both pragmatic, put the lives of their loved ones over their own, love tech, are socially open people while holding back on information and emotion. Not to mention the scenes in 2 and 3 and also 4 and 5 where it is slightly hinted how well Sasha and Loaderbot work together, without sharing much words. So naturally the Idea was born that Sash and LB became quite close.

And the same goes for Sasha and Gaige. I was actually surprised that nobody (not entirely true, I saw one fanart of it) seemed to made that connection before as it was so obvious to me. So basically Sasha is a softer version of Gaige, in many terms. They both have a big heart for tech and especially guns. They both hosted a small radio broadcast that blew up in their region over night. Both are anarchist’s who spread the word for awareness, how fucked up the company war actually is. Both are not really good at their aim. Both call robots as their closes’t friends. Both share a deep hatred for Handsome Jack and his doings. Both fought a giant ass Vault Monster and nearly died in the process of doing so. Both got screwed up big time and now have a huge bounty on their head... So you see the list goes on, and honestly the more I write them, the more similarities I notice, both hc wise and canon wise. So there more I thought about it, and noticed similarites the more I fell in love with the Idea of them becoming close. And from there the Idea was born, that they probably met on a job ( the most likely scenario in the Borderlands universe). It had to be before BL3 of course, and to be after Tales naturally so that only put one timeline in the focus, Commander Lillith.

To be honest, I didn’t expect everything turning out so big. Like seriously I orifinally planed like 8k words or so. Now I’m dangling on the Idea of having 13 chapters and a big ass finally, a neat wrap up of everything and even a possible epilogue XD Yeah, that wasn’t what I expected either but damn do I love doing it.

Like seriously my headcanons only just gotten bigger and bigger. From a whole nebula system in the galaxy, to regions I created in my own mind for it, to even complex backstorys. Like why Sasha wears a headband, why she loves guns so much, what happened to her and Fi’s parents, why she was raised by her aunt, what does Felix have to do with it, Why Gaige has this kicks of both sudden depression and manical behavior. Why she’s so close to her dad, but her mom wasn’t even mentioned once (but teased), why she wanted to become a wedding planer, and why she is so obsessed with robots and margarita mix. I think one day, this thing will turn into a tabletop game or something XD

So estimated 20k words on my answer later and now we are going for my own created ship Scarleona. Don’t worry, as much as I like to gosh about that too, it wont take as long I prommy.

Scarleona was created in a sudden urge while thinking about what happpend to Fiona while Strays happened. And similar to Gaige and Sasha, Scarleona was born from a dynamic. Especially of those from two Ladybosses with Silvertongue and speech 100XD Fiona and Scarlett may have become my favorite Fiona ship (no offense everybody) because of how well they play off each other. Fiona is a con artist, her whole life she was used to swindle, to play it cool and by ear, go with the flow, and expect the unexpected. So here core idea is that she is manupulating people by LYING to them.

Scarlett on the other hand is similar while also the complete opposite to it. She is backstabby, plays with her charm and most importantly she is dead honest while tricking people. In fact even so honest that people don’t even realised that they got tricked even though she told it several times before. And this dynamic is so fascinating to me. You see, Fiona has almost an answer an action for everything prepared, but the idea that her winning honesty, is mind puzzling to Fiona is so perfect. @michellespenscratchz wrote me a drabble several months ago and I think that line describes it just perfect

“So, let me see if I got this straight,” Fiona tilted her head inquisitively at Captain Scarlett. “You needed these Vault Hunters’ help to find this treasure for you. So you…just asked them?”

“That’s right.” Scarlett nodded, inspecting her hook nonchalantly.

“Even though they knew you wanted it for yourself?” Fiona asked.

“Indeed,” Scarlett replied.

“And they…” Fiona blinked, “…knew you planned on fighting them for it once they had it.”

“Of course they did,” Scarlett shrugged. “I told them as much.”

“You told them?”

“Yes.”

“And they helped you anyway?”

“Precisely.” Scarlett turned her hat against the blistering wind. “I fear I don’t quite grasp what about this is so difficult to grasp, Fiona dear.”

“Huh.” Fiona cast her gaze out across the expanse of Pandoran horizon. “I guess I just gotta–I dunno–rethink my whole life right now.”

So yeah, that was basically it. I kinda diagressed and didn’t want to hurt your eyes more looking at the long ass text, but please if you have some more questions to it, pls hit me. I love to gosh about it <3

And thank you so much <3 This was hella fun

#Borderlands #Tales from the Borderlands #Strays of the Pack #Scarleona #Sasha the Kid Sister #Gaige the Mechromancer #I still need a great name for Sash and Gaige's dynamic #maybe I should go with Wolfpack for now till something better crosses my mind. #Fiona the Con Artist #Captain Scarlett #Thank you #<3

[sage-nebula]

My problem with the “let the adults handle things" is that the protagonist and Hop are just okay with that and actually listen? kids aren't like that?? In every other story with children and main characters they get told stuff like that but still don't listen anyways and actually works and save the day. But the real reason is that it was probably the original plan but the game got rushed and had to scrap it and cut corners

This might come as a shock, but kids are people, and therefore aren’t a monolith. “Kids don’t listen and wouldn’t be okay with that” isn’t a statement that can be made with 100% accuracy because just like all adults are different, all kids are different. Some kids will stomp their feet and throw tantrums when they’re told no. Others will accept it. It depends on the individual child, as well as the circumstances involved.

As for these specific children and circumstances:

The primary time that Leon and Sonia say “let the adults handle this,” Hop wasn’t actually present. He shows up after the cutscene has already unfolded. Even if he had been, Hop hero worships Leon. He wants to surpass Leon because surpassing him means being just like him. He’s crushed after battling Bede not because he lost, but rather because Bede tells him that he’s making Leon look bad. Hop apologizes to Leon the next time he sees him. What all this means is that if Leon tells Hop to do something, Hop is 99.9% likely to do it. If Leon says, “Stay back and let me handle this,” Hop will. This is evidenced by how, even though Hop runs past Raihan and others to get to Leon in the climax of the story, he at first hangs back and lets Leon handle Eternatus, confidently telling the player that Leon can do it. It’s only when Leon fails and is injured that Hop steps up to battle Eternatus alongside the player, Zacian, and Zamazenta. So yes, it makes perfect sense that Hop would listen to Leon because Hop hangs on Leon’s every word and has since he was very small. He trusts and believes in his brother implicitly and, even after deciding to cheer for the player in the Championship match, later confides that he didn’t really think the player was capable of defeating Leon.

As for the player, they have no personality outside of what you give them. For me, I’ve been playing Pokémon games since 1998. I’m absolutely beyond tired of having to save everyone’s asses because the PokéWorld can’t go two years without facing another crisis. I don’t want to be the hero anymore. I don’t want to be the Champion anymore. I was exhausted at having to be the Champion in Alola. This isn’t a job that appeals to me, it’s not one that I want. So if Leon and Sonia say, “Go continue your adventure, we’ll handle this,” my response is, “Thank fucking god” because that means I can fuck back off into the wilderness and continue exploring. I don’t want it to be my job to clean up whatever bullshit mess Chairman Rose or any other villain has caused. I am here to explore lands I’ve never seen before, to catch and train and play with monsters, and battle alongside them in battles I choose to participate in, too. That’s all I want to do. Any other bullshit is just a giant pain in the ass that pulls me away from what I’d rather be doing. And since I feel that way, the player character in my games feels that way, too. After all, when I play, the player character isn’t actually a kid. She’s actually an adult in the body of a kid. But she’ll pretend to be a kid if it means someone else picks up the slack and saves the world for once (even if she ends up having to do it anyway, sigh). She deserves a damn break.

All of that said:

In every other story with children and main characters they get told stuff like that but still don't listen anyways and actually works and save the day.

That’s exactly why it’s refreshing that this wasn’t the case in Sword & Shield. I mean, yeah, the player had to intervene anyway because that’s just how video games work, but it was nice that for once in this series’ history the adults actually tried to do something. The only other time this has happened was in Black & White, wherein the Gym Leaders and Alder stepped up to make a stand against Team Plasma. Otherwise, the adults are 100% useless in every single game, even the ones where the villain is threatening genocide, and as an adult myself, I really hate that. Sure, kids need stories where people their age are being heroes, absolutely. But when adults don’t even try, and instead happily leave everything on the shoulders of a child, I get aggravated. It shouldn’t be up to actual children to save the world, and it was so refreshing to see a Pokémon game where that was recognized, and where the Champion himself was seriously injured trying to make sure that didn’t happen.

Lastly:

But the real reason is that it was probably the original plan but the game got rushed and had to scrap it and cut corners

Yes, Sword & Shield had a limited development time that led to some things getting cut (such as the National Dex, tragedy though that is), just as every game since Gen VI has. However, I can confidently say that this is not one of them because of the characters involved.

Sonia has, in my opinion, one of the richest characterizations and most realistic stories out of almost any other Pokémon characters from the games. At the start of the game, she’s in her twenties and has no idea what she’s doing with her life. She’s retired from battling after dropping out of the Gym Challenge in her youth, but she dropped out of the Gym Challenge because she lacked the confidence to face the obstacles it presented, not because she wanted to do something else. The fact is, Sonia doesn’t really know what she wants to do. We know that she went to school at one point (her fake assistant in the post-game mentions that Sonia does have a doctorate), but she doesn’t have any actual research she’s working on. Instead, she’s a self-appointed assistant for her grandmother, even if what she does is mostly just meander around the lab . . . reading or organizing materials, I guess.

But after her grandmother gives her a kick in the pants and tells her to go find something she wants to do, she manages to do just that. She finds something that ignites her curiosity and her passion, something that makes a difference in her life at the very least, and possibly the lives of everyone in Galar. She finds her confidence, her drive, and her purpose. At the end of the game she’s the new regional professor, more sure of herself and her place in the world. And as someone who only just very recently left my 20s, I can say that Sonia’s story in this regard is very, very Millennial. Most twenty-somethings have no idea what they’re doing with their lives. And while they probably won’t figure it out as quickly as Sonia did (I’m still working on it myself), her struggles are very relatable and real. It’s clear that a lot of thought went into her character and her writing. Game Freak gave her a lot of love.

With all of that said though, Sonia being hyper-aware that she is an adult while Hop and the protagonist are kids is something that is present from the very beginning. She brings it up when you first reach the wild area, for instance. She makes it known that she has more experience and that she is therefore watching out for you and for Hop (particularly since Leon frets over Hop, as Sonia also points out). Sonia telling the protagonist to just keep enjoying the Gym Challenge while she looks into things is 100% in character for her. It’s characterization present from the start.

And the same goes for Leon. Leon, who became Champion at age 10, and therefore has had to shoulder the burden of being Galar’s Champion for over a decade, knows exactly what it is to have too much responsibility at too young an age. Sonia notes that Leon “practically raised [Hop]” (which is odd given they have a mom and at least one grandparent, but nonetheless), and also that he worries about him constantly. I believe Raihan says something along the same lines. And we see this from Leon as well, with him questioning you about what was going on with Hop when he runs into you in Hammerlocke after Hop’s battle against Bede, and then talking about how he’s going to seek Hop out to talk to him again. Leon doesn’t want Hop to so much as feel bad, much less be in actual danger, even setting aside the fact that Leon feels greatly responsible for the safety and happiness of everyone in the Galar region and therefore feels that it is his responsibility as Champion to face any threat to any of that head on. (Which, it is his responsibility as Champion to face threats to the region, but Leon takes it too far in that he feels he’s responsible for everyone’s happiness as well, which in turn contributes to how unhappy he actually is being Champion). So considering the fact that Leon is very protective of Hop and feels strongly that it is his duty as Champion to deal with any burden Galar faces, it is 100% in character for him to wave you off with a smile as well. That’s not a “we cut this corner because of time,” this is a, “We understand the character we’ve created and we’re staying true to him.”

So, to summarize: I disagree with everything you said. Goodnight. 

#pokemon #professor sonia #champion leon #meta #Anonymous