#OH BUT WAIT IMAGINE WHAT HAPPENS IN THE END OF THE EPISODE

[1nt3rnalpu7ref4ct10n]

s4e6

[finalgirlmoment]

Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

[nalyra-dreaming]

I've seen the episode!!!

(Some comments and) SPOILERS!!!!

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Louis saying it was a betrayal and that he wants to be punished for it just when he finds happiness again via a hallucination of Lestat is so... ugh. Louis, honey, god. Also him imagining Lestat biting him - as a punishment, but he also wants it so badly, baring his neck, not trying to fight it, offering himself up there, he just wants the connection so badly. 😭 And god, Louis having Lestat call him out on his own denial. Damn. And Louis knowing he invited this Lestat as a distraction.

Also... that was definitely foreshadowing to how Louis will think the trial went.

And of course it would be a bat. Of course.™

Claudia driving them onwards, not giving one shit is just... incredible. Delainey is Claudia.

I was also right that she honed her senses and available gifts, more than Louis has his (which fits)

Daniel calling their plight the hunt for Moby Dick

Claudia is also... beautifully hopeful, and thereby almost desperately (intentionally) naive. She just wants to connect, so badly. To find more of their kind. And closes her eyes to what she sees. *deep sigh*

That "Adam and Even and God" comment was hilarious. Oh man, I cannot wait to see what the show will make of / with QotD and Memnoch etc.

Not only is Louis aware of forgotten memories now, he actively pursues them, and he has apparently read the missing pages before. And knows he has forgotten.

Claudia's diaries are unreliable, too (as predicted). Also, Louis correcting his own tale there, lol. Also: Armand‘s look and suggestion there.

Daniel and his little speech as to how he works… you go Daniel. “Here’s almost all the story“ lol

“Human affairs“

The revenants.... "the blood is bad here" *shivers* - I BET that's already setting up the "turning fails" arc with Amel, right there

God that old vampire connecting with Claudia, and then throwing herself into the fire in despair. God.

Morgan's arc was nicely condensed, the scene fittingly horrific

I live for Claudia speaking all the languages, but I noticed some of the subtitles were wrong

Whoever doubted DM happening... well. Sorry, but I AM seeing it. The looks, the smirks, the bitching.

Also "real Rashid" (lmao) - who, btw, does not wear a mask! What if the encounter with Eudoxia Marius had went differently and this is Rashid?

... someone wanting to buy a tryptich they haven't even put up for sale... *coughs* Marius? *coughs* (I mean, who else would know they have it? Or the Talamasca, maybe)

God that Dubai bedroom screams cage. And Armand controlling even the lights with his little iPad. Someone edit a blender into a screenshot of that scene.

The look Lestat gives Claudia at that last part of Louis' little speech. Devastating.

Also: the "I do I do I do I do I do"... Louis. Sweetie. I mean, I get it, but still.

Armand's comment that the boy from San Francisco is still in Daniel. Now if that is not foreshadowing.

A propos foreshadowing: Louis saying he will not choose the fire while Claudia walks the earth. *help*

"We cannot be the only good ones". Yeah... about that. -.-

Louis being so relieved that what Claudia wrote was not the truth

The. Score.

Louis pacifying Armand there with the little touches at the end. LOL (the whole setup makes me wonder if ARMAND has also forgotten some things btw). Also that little thank you kiss

The Groan. Once more seemingly when Armand is displeased, so it could be a metaphysical manifestation after all, especially since Louis seems to comment on it. (It could also be a red herring, we'll see.)

Daniel‘s “we‘ll get to you“ to Armand (lol)

Louis‘ guilty look to Lestat when he tries to pep talk Claudia 😭

EDIT: there were two very short flahback scenes with a comment to memory, which is setting up the big one later, no doubt about it, ugh

I legit teared up so often.

I have missed them all so much.

It's all I wanted, and more. Cannot wait to scream about it with everyone.

Also, last but not least: can I just say how glad I am our writers are playwrights.

[cybertron-after-dark]

I can't stop thinking about Prime and Rescue Bots sharing a universe. Like what all did the Rescue Bots know about during the war. Do they know about Unicron, Team Prime's base getting destroyed, do they even know Smokescreen exists? Same goes for Team Prime. When did each member find out about the Rescue Bots (if they found out), how often did Optimus think about just letting his Dino-bot side out during a battle, did they worry about M.E.C.H. finding out about them? This universe makes me absolutely feral with things like this and I love it.

Honestly I'm pretty sure they didn't even register Unicron happening because disasters are just the natural state of griffin rock. "Oh another earthquake? Yeah okay, let's go fellas, we got work."

They likely didnt know about the base being destroyed until after they relocated just with how often the bots try to get a hold of team prime and reach nobody until whichever fiasco is happening is over.

They definitely know about most of team prime just with how much they knew about Bumblebee alone, but they likely only learned about Smokescreen if Blades and Bumblebee talk outside of necessary-for-work comms.

Honestly I'm pretty sure all of team prime knows about griffin rock even if they don't get an episode there. If it's restricted information to, say, Arcee and Bulkhead, then its a bit confusing that Optimus would freely reveal it to Bumblebee when he ranks lower. And we know Ratchet is aware of them since he had to help find a cure for the paralytic virus in the first bumblebee episode. I'd guess he debriefed the others on the new bots and the griffin rock project right after they touched down to earth for the first time.

I truly, genuinely, honestly believe Optimus should've gone dinobot mode at some point during prime but either that episode came out after the show already ended or they just did not have the budget to model a full t rex mode. But in the timeline where things lined up just the right way to allow it to happen, please imagine with me: dinobot Optimus vs predaking. T rex vs a dragon. Somewhere in the multiverse, beast wars Megatron is weeping.

As for MECH's involvement, I think it's actually implied Morocco has been selling them tech. There's a nonzero chance Nemesis Prime used a Morbot as a base and they modified it from there after they learned enough about cybertronian anatomy to make a copy of prime.

All in all the Ramifications of these shows being so deeply intertwined has me FUCKED UP and I want to see the two teams hanging out so so so badly. Boulder, Graham and Bulkhead all getting to talking and finding out about Bulkhead's construction experience and being like legitimately hyped that they have that in common, and then Bulkhead having a full on out of body experience because hey wait why are the smart guys treating him like he's One of Them and not calling him dumb? Arcee and Heatwave shooting the shit about how frustrating the people they live with can be, but they still love their teams to death. Both of them snarking at Kade. Blades and Bumblebee being Gay on Main alnd Jack, Raf and Miko clamoring for DETAILS while Dani cheers them on. Ratchet being miserable because by Primus why are there so many humans, three of them is already exhausting, until Cody starts talking to him and he conveniently forgets his plan to go hide out in his room. Chase being out of his depth around Miko, aka Chaos Personified. Optimus, June, Fowler and Charlie just slowwwly forming a Tired Parents Club in the corner.

In conclusion your honor I liek when the funni robot shows crossover :]

[llamaisllama777]

TSAMS THEORY: THEY'RE ALL THE SAME//TIMELOOP THEORY!

Okay, you read the title. This is probably the CRAZIEST theory I've come up with up, but please let me explain.

Okay, so in this episode of The Sun and Moon show

Dark Sun visits Foxy and is trying to help him solve his F.c. problem. This was when F.C. got that red box in his chest that absorbs negative star power, and Foxy had no idea what to do, and "Sun" shows up to offer him some support and help... ya, that's not Sun, as you can probably imagine it's Dark Sun. Dark Sun, if I remember correctly, is basically telling Foxy to get rid of the kid cause he's too dangerous, and off course, Foxy tells him no. Dark Sun make some interesting comments that got me thinking. Dark Sun kept asking hypothetical questions like: If you could go back in time and redo everything the exact same way... would you?

Kept asking time related hypotheticals, and even after 7 months, my mind does wander back to this episode and what Dark Sun said.

Someone in the comments of this video asked "Wait is Dark Sun implying they're all stuck in a timeloop and only he knows?" And that BLEW MY MIND!

It does explain a lot of things about Dark Sun

How he seems to know how everything is gonna play out

How confident he is

How smart he is

It's cause he's been through ALL this before.

He's seen it all before

He's experienced it all before

And he's learned from it all.

There is a VERY popular fan theory that Dark Sun is actually OUR Sun just from the future!

I do think that theory is true... but allow me to add to it.

DARK SUN IS SUN FROM A PREVIOUS TIMELINE

The theory is that every time THIS world ends, it gets reset (Kinda like Undertale), and everything happens all over again, maybe with one or two small differences, so it's not an exact copy but a close enough one. Dark Sun was a Sun who we know snapped and fought back against his Moon, killed him, and stole his intelligence... is what I would say if that was true. It was later revealed that Dark Sun lied about killing his Moon. We see his Moon barely alive in a cell where Ruin then puts him out of his misery. Ruin calls Dark Sun out on his lies, and Dark Sun just kinda brushes it off. He lied! He lied about killing his Moon! So, if he didn't get his intelligence, then where'd he get it? Dark Sun didn't steal it he gained it through experience. Dark Sun somehow found out he and his WHOLE WORLD IS TRAPPED IN A TIMELOOP! He probably freaked out about that for a while till he began to wonder if he could change the future, change his fate. So, he does. He becomes Dark Sun after many attempts and many timeloops and finally breaks free from the loop, but he realizes he's free, but the loop isn't over. It's still going. Just now, he's a watcher. He's on the outside looking in. He watches the loops play out over and over and over again, and it just keeps getting WORSE! Moon is still being an abusive butt to Sun, Sun still barely has anyone to support him, and they are still constantly messed with by people like Eclipse, BloodMoon, The Creator, The Astrals. It NEVER ends! Oh, sure, sometimes the loop is merciful. Maybe it gives Sun a new sibling to care for him or a new friend or heck, maybe even a kid... but it's still the same shtick! Sun even dies in some terrible ways in some of these loops! Or the siblings turn rouge and become evil. Dark Sun decided enough was enough and decided to try and break the loop once and for all, but in order to do so, he needs to intervene. He needs to start making things go his way. Pushing Nexus further to the dark side, putting things into place so Sun will lose his support system, and make it so the next few loops will have the Suns coming up on top. Basically, altering the timeloops so Sun doesn't die in 95% percent of them and instead Moon dies. (What's been happening in the show currently) Dark Sun is trying to make our Sun like him cause he believes he can't break the loop, so if you can't break it... change it. He's trying to turn Sun into another him because Dark Sun thinks becoming like him is the only way to break the loop. He's trying to make all Suns like him cause he believes he can help them.

So, that's Dark Sun's part of this.... how does Emperor Lunar and President Earth come into play?

Well, if the timeloop theory is correct, then you see what I'm saying, right? President Earth and Emperor Lunar ARE our Lunar and Earth! Just from different timelines. They're like Dark Sun sort of. They know about the loops but aren't really doing anything to intervene. Maybe they are, and we just aren't seeing it? Who knows?

Now, you might be saying Llama, Emperor Lunar, President Earth, and Dark Sun are from another dimension... not timeline... well... do we know that for sure? I mean, they say it's other universes.... but... dimensional travel is a tricky thing. Who's to say Moon when he built the portal didn't accidentally poke a hole through? Plus, other dimensions and alternate timelines are a term that's pretty interchangeable. So, what we think is an alternate dimension is actually a alternate timeline, part of a the loop.

Basically, what I'm saying is that Moon's portal is actually going in a giant circle poking through the past timelines and wrapping back around to ours and poking through ours to future ones.

Tl;DR The whole show is stuck in a timeloop, and Dark Sun, Evil Earth, and Evil Lunar are OUR Sun, Lunar, and Earth just from a previous loop and Dark Sun is trying to save all other Suns by messing with the timelines so they'll become like him and break free from the loop.

Does this theory have a lot of holes... yes. But gosh dang! Wouldn't that be something! Plus, I can see something like this happening in the show.

But hey that's just a theory...

A TSAMS THEORY!

Thanks for reading!

[rc-writes]

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢  

pairings: benny weir x reader

warnings: one curse word i believe, i say y’all one too many times lol

a/n: this was requested by the same irl friend as my other benny hcs! this blog is going to turn into just a benny fan club soon enough lol. but anyways, i would like to say that in the middle of typing this a roach decided to appear out of nowhere in my room 🙃 that was interesting. also not me writing yet more benny headcanons at 1am. like dude it's bad enough you started appearing in random dreams of mine for a few months (like he’d show up for like to seconds and then dip, or he’d just be in the background and not even say a word) but now you won’t even let me sleep?? 

you and benny had been friends since middle school

which means you guys have been friends forever in your minds

this also means that the idea of benny liking you or you liking him in more than a friend way, and vice versa, was never a thought that crossed either of y’alls minds

for a while at least

since you were friends with benny that also means by default you’re also friends with ethan

and you three, with the occasional rory appearance, most likely spend an insane amount of time together

i’m talking spending full days playing video games or watching movies, grandma weir loving you, having a love-hate relationship with jane, etc.

this leads me to say that there has to been at least one instance where someone though you were dating one of them

or both

which can go one of two ways

either you’re all stuttering, awkwardly trying to explain you’re just friends

or you all laugh it off because that would be ridiculous right?

right?

i feel like if someone was thought you and benny were together he’d be the type to laugh it off

which would lead to you laughing it off as well because once again that scenario never even crossed either of y’alls minds

benny normally flirts with everyone one he sees, especially if they’re the nerd type

it’s like a second nature at this point

so obviously if he never even attempted to flirt with you that means you two are in fact friends, best friends, bros even, and whatever other words that mean friends

until one day benny’s whole universe flips upside down

the gang was fighting yet another monster of the week as per usual

except this entity was particularly nasty and you ended up getting hurt

like i’m talking needing a quick trip to the er kinda hurt

i can imagine trying to explain what had happened was interesting

turns out you sprained your wrist and had a mild concussion

you were going to be fine but the doctors wanted you to stay over night just incase

but no matter how many times you or anyone else said it benny was not listening

you were literally in the hospital, why was no one else panicking??

you are sitting in a hospital bed!!! with a sprained wrist!! and a concussion!!!!

you’d swear you were dying by his shear panic

he’d feel like shit for not being able to protect you

he literally had magic powers so why was this even happening??

you’ve lost count how many times you had reassured him that it's okay, you can take after yourself

i can see him being like stiles in that one episode of teen wolf where stiles fell asleep in the waiting room for lydia until they kicked him out

grandma weir would have to come pick him up and the entire way home she’s all like 👀 because like yes a best friend will get worried about their friend but this seemed like it could be something more

but knowing grandma i think she’d keep her mouth shut and let him figure it out

it’d be funnier that way

and sure enough in the middle of the night benny wakes up in a cold sweat and is like

oh

oh

????

benny short circuits

he decides to ignore that for the time being

but the next day when you’re released from the hospital ethan suggests that they go see you and benny says no

and ethan’s like?? what happened to him thinking you were dying??

eventually benny confesses to which ethan is now even more ????

after some convincing ethan gets benny to go see you

“dude you guys have been friends forever, nothing’s changed”

“‘nothing’s changed’!?!? what do you mean ‘nothing’s changed’?? everything has changed!!”

cue benny being acting so odd once he gets to your place

which confuses and concerns you since less than 24hrs ago he was acting like you were dying

you questioned ethan about it but he quickly and awkwardly said he had no idea

but the fact that he said it in a higher pitch, stuttering, and way over the top about it, made it clear that he did know something

but you dropped because you knew ethan wasn’t going to snitch on his friend

yet, you thought

new mission unlocked for you: figure out what the hell happened to your best friend over night

benny’s new mission was to make sure by all means that you did not find the answer to that

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: In Which Izutsumi is Ace and also possibly a Time Lord

I heard that troll!Marcille is shredded. I heard she has an eight-pack.

(I can't believe that wasn't just the end of the chapter. I can't believe this wasn't the end of this book. What the fuck is going to happen in the NEXT chapter?!)

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omg, baby!Chilchuck! He once had hope in his eyes and joy in his heart!

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I just think he and Kabru should compare notes, by which I mean gossip.

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Laios: [explaining a new monster]

Marcille:

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Wait that's actually dodgy as fuck. Did they say something to her while Chlchuck was briefly in the bathroom or something? Threaten her?

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Marcille's imagine spot as Chilchuck's wife reminds me of that episode of Scrubs where each person imagines themselves married to Elliot. Amazing, no notes.

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Marcille's so valid tbh. He clearly lied before when he said he had only 1 daughter - he could easily be lying now, for all they know.

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....huh. Book 9 is the first book to have 6 chapters instead of 7. Story drama, or publication drama?

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this is sitcom-tier stuff. fantastic.

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Marcille: [dies and gets resurrected]

Marcille: :D :D :D I am going to study this! :D :D :D

(Marcille: So that nobody I love needs to ever die again. :) :) :) )

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She is, however, distinctly avoiding this question about her age.

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Izutsumi, confirmed for ace icon?!

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Izutsumi confirmed for ace icon!!

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Nooo babygirl! You have so much heart, it's just not exercised enough!

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<3 :3 <3

Also, Izutsumi also confirmed for Time Lord, I guess! (And her human half may be ace but her cat half is thinkin' about a big, good-looking panther ;3

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The very first image we see of Chilchuck's daughters is of a nightmare of them axe-murdered?! Geez louise.

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I don't even care if it's a demon or a god, I just laughed aloud so hard. Impeccable transition. I think the comedic timing in this comic might be getting better as it goes on.

Shoutout to Laios for being so weird that the succubus just had to kinda guess, "uhh only properly humanoid girl in the party?" for his greatest desire, until presumably it got close enough to pick up a more detailed impression.

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Hm. So, it's not lying...

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...nvm, now it probably is (lying).

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Oh yes this is a trap. A seduction.

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/giggling with delight - Oh my god, at the previous panel I was going to make a joke about Samwise the Great, Gardener of the World, ie the temptation vision the Ring gives Sam. But I guess I don't have to, we're just going there directly. What does pure power do to you, Laios?

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Wsdknsdvl even the Winged Lion is like, "but what about your judicial policy?" I love this comic sooo much.

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That's 'cuz you're a man.

[hoodieschaoticreviews]

Ok I watched the leaked episodes

Let’s start with the positives! I love positives!

- Alex Brightman put his whole Alexussy into this shit oh my god, Pentious and Adam actually sound really good. Adam singing is also really really good. Alex can sing in character and carry things well and I’m glad now he’s part of the project. Because at least it’ll be bearable if I see the other episodes.

-Vox is actually weirdly really compelling? Like I actually ended up enjoying the vibe he’s got and his own voice grew on me, I know it’s not what people wanted but it works well.

-Nifty’s voice is pretty ok, so is Charlie’s. They’re some of the better voices of the cast, Alastor’s performance was uh. It wasn’t bad so there’s that!

-the opening exposition was needed but also a bit hamfisted- wait shit the positives- uh, I love the direction it went? Art wise?

-the songs are pretty good, they get you from point A to point B, and at least wasn’t Poison levels of cringe in writing.

-Charlie actually helping Pentious in episode 2 try to repent and be a better person actually feels nice, like a crumb of what the show should of be-

…

Ok let’s get to the point.

-the episodes clearly are trying to shove as much of the plot as humanly possible, to the point that you get whiplash.

-Angel Dust, Vaggie, Valentino, Husk all have voices that either do not fit, crack from the pressure to perform, or are trying so hard to mimic the previous voice that it’s actually worrying. The Angel dust one in particular I’ll get to when I get to the point.

-The plot starts with the main antagonist, literally telling Charlie that her plan is pointless and she should give up. There’s no actual “I want” song to counter this, unless you count the song where Adam mocks her for trying and tells her the exterminations will happen twice a year now.

-Pentious at least wasn’t a creep like i was fearing in the script, but he comes off too pathetic? Like I know he was pathetic and that’s the point but why the fuck does he want to be equal to the Vees now? Didn’t he want to rule over hell himself? I know the instagram had him crop himself into pictures with the Vees but remember those aren’t canon!

-I realized I was able to hop in because I had Wikipedia level knowledge of these characters to the point they click in my head (and enough to where Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and Husk all felt a little off but that’s neither here nor there). But god I cannot imagine being a new person trying to jump into this show, this is bad. None of the characters get actually introduced outside of Charlie, the show references the pilot which isn’t part of the show so new audiences have no idea what they’re talking about, and the staff gets actually introduced in episode 2. EPISODE 2, TO PENTIOUS!? GIRLIE POP HAVE HIM COME EPISODE 1 THEN?

-Animation that’s either too floaty, too janky, too stiff or straight up traced. Which I don’t blame the animators for, Mammon was busy buying 10,000 dollars worth of peacocks to bother paying them more than a dollar per frame. There’s no charm here.

-Where did the fucking cat key come from? No I’m serious. Where did it come from? It just kinda exists now.

-Alastor’s commercial is just straight up MEAN and he’s often more mean than chaotic, which I know is ironic since he wasn’t a good person and I wasn’t expecting him to be but it’s to a point where it’s not even fun mean. He literally called Charlie’s endeavor “Daddy issues”. It felt like he was just there to slap Charlie in the face.

-Angel Dust rant is gonna be so long that I saved it for last.

I have to put it under the read more because of talk of SA! Fun!

Ok.

I’m saying this as someone who loved him from the pilot and was willing to excuse his behavior as “flaws he can work on” since Addict and everything else proved that there was more under the surface and he was a character that could change and grow and-

…

…

Angel dust, the rape victim… the guy running away from his abuser…

The Angel dust who has traumatic episodes so fucking graphic that he flashes back to them when he’s performing.

Saying “yeah no, fucking sexually exploit me! It turns me on!”

Viv, I know you’re not reading this but I mean this genuinely.

Fuck you.

As someone who’s family has experienced sexual abuse, as someone who’s family still has CPTSD because men in power decide to exploit them… how fuckin dare you make a character enjoy their own exploitation.

This isn’t me kink shaming a sexual character! He can be sexual and like sex! It’s never been the problem and hell it could of been liberation to have sex he deserves.

But no.

Let’s make the SA victim into the sexual harassment character, let’s make the SA victim the Stolas of the show where he wears down his love interest so thin that they have to give up.

Let’s make the SA victim still work under his shitty abuser, and make that into a joke as the abuser mentions wanting to rape everyone in the hotel.

Don’t pay to watch this show, I mean it.

Pirate it.

Hell don’t even watch it, find something better to watch. I’ve been binging anime as of late and I still like captain lazerhawk.

[separatist-apologist]

The Acolyte

Summary: When a mission on the planet Umbara goes wrong, Jedi Padawan Feyre Archeron will come face to face with the one creature the High Republic has believed long extinct: a Sith Lord.

Read on AO3

Note: This is a collaboration between the beautiful, smart, perfect, all-around talented @velidewrites who, upon watching the previous episode of The Acolyte, said, "Qimir is so Rhys coded." This has been our brain rot ever since.

DO NOT REPOST SITH RHYS

-

Drumming her fingers along the arm of the chair, Feyre waited with little patience. She ought to have it—it was unbecoming for a Jedi Padawan to be so antsy, so fidgety, but she couldn’t help it. It felt like years since she’d gone anywhere outside the temple besides hunting down street food. Master Tamlin wasn’t over their last mission.

Reckless, he’d called her.

Efficient, was how Feyre would have described herself. What was the point of tradition if it resulted in the deaths of so many innocents? Rules, protocol—it was all meaningless to Feyre in the moment. What mattered was the lives of innocents, not making sure Master Tamlin was satisfied she did everything by the book.

Tamlin loved the code, loved rules, loved everything except doing things the way Ferye wanted to. It was tempting to wonder why, of all the possible Padawans he could have had, he’d chosen her. They were a strange match even by the Jedi’s standards. Tamlin said the force had called out to him, urging him to take her under his wing.

Feyre sometimes thought he merely saw chaos where order ought to reign supreme, and made it his personal mission to bring her to heel. He was holding her back—Feyre wanted to be a Knight and free herself from Tamlin’s hold and he refused, telling the council she wasn’t ready.

She was, though. Feyre was stronger, faster, better than her pupils, a good number of whom had already graduated and were working under the watchful gaze of all Masters rather than just one. 

Let him take me on this mission, Feyre thought, sending it out into the world. One last mission—I can prove I’m ready.

Tamlin appeared from behind arched, hissing doors, his white robes swishing around beige boots. He’d tied his shoulder length blonde hair half off his face which made him look more severe, somehow. Green eyes pinned her in place, keeping her from standing even when she wanted to. Something about the hard set of his mouth made her think twice.

“The council wants you to join me,” Tamlin said, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Who are we to argue with the will of the Council?” Feyre asked breathlessly, finally standing. It was good luck, the first of many, she decided. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“This is too dangerous and you’re too reckless,” Tamlin said, turning for the long stretch of hall between them. Feyre’s long braid swung from her shoulder, tracing a path along her spine as she worked to keep up with his fast strides. 

“I’ll do as you say, Master,” she swore, truly believing she would. Tamlin only shook his head because he knew better. Feyre could be impulsive—it was one of her worst qualities.  

“You never do,” Tamlin replied with a heavy sigh. “It’s a mistake to bring you to Umbara.”

Umbara? Feyre practically vibrated with excitement, swallowing to keep her feelings in check. She’d heard of the Shadow World, seen it in the archives when she studied. She’d never been there, though. It felt like a waking dream, too good to be true.

“What’s happening on Umbara, Master?”

“Deaths,” Tamlin said, eyes cutting toward her as he carved a path through a gathered crowd of awed younglings. “Jedi deaths. That shouldn’t be possible.”

“Perhaps they were caught by surprise,” she said, though Feyre, too, found it troubling. What was the point of training if a regular blaster bolt could end them, same as anyone else? She’d always imagined her death would be more spectacular. A fiery inferno, likely as she jumped in and out of hyperspace while Tamlin shouted at her. 

Oh, but what a way to go.

“We’re only investigating,” Tamlin said, turning so abruptly that Feyre tripped over her own white and gold robes in her haste. “Remove all ideas of grandeur from your mind.”

“I will,” she promised, but it was too late. This would be her test, she decided—one last mission to prove not just to Tamlin, who would likely never believe her ready, but to the Council themselves that she should be elevated to Knight. Tamlin had held her back for the last time.

They parted ways, Tamlin mumbling under his breath as Feyre practically skipped her way out of the temple. She wanted to tell her sisters what she was doing and knew if Tamlin realized she still had this connection, he’d march them right back into the Temple and demand she be put back in the Archives.

Feyre swore she’d tell them she couldn’t read if he did.

She, like all children, had been taken to the temple before she had a chance to truly know her family. And either by luck or the force or some other cosmic entity, she’d stumbled into Elain first—and then Nesta. How many women in the galaxy had the last name Archeron, after all? Elain was a rising politician, unhindered by an overbearing Master and Nesta the head of a Bounty Hunters Guild.  There was no denying the relation—they all had the same heart shaped faces, the same cheekbones, and the same whip-fast wit. 

Nesta ought to be back by then, though if not, Elain would be in her little office working hard to make a name for herself. Nesta had explained their family had once been wealthy before a few bad investments ruined it all. Sending Feyre away had been a mercy, and when their mother died, well…that was one less mouth to feed. 

Nesta learned to fight with vibro weapons, Elain with words. If their father was still alive, they’d never said and Feyre hadn’t dared to ask. Deep in her heart, she felt a small amount of resentment for the man who’d sent her away, depriving her of the connection with her family. Even if it had been selfless—even if he’d wanted to give her a better life. 

On climate controlled Coruscant, Feyre found herself standing amid a sunny, breezy day. Tilting her face skyward, she swore she felt a phantom breeze caress her skin. Turning, she decided she’d get something to eat, first, and to see him. It was wrong, the strange attachment she had to the man who ran the turbo dog cart closest to the Jedi temple and yet he remembered her name. Remembered the things she told him.

He was her friend. 

Feyre’s feet began moving of their own accord, body slipping into the throngs of people that lived on the planet. The cacophony of smells and noise—the chaos of it all—made her blood thrum with excitement. Feyre never felt more alive than she did just outside the Temple. Here, Feyre could pretend she was just like anyone else…ignoring the slice of hair woven into the traditional padawan braid, separate from her own thick, long hair she’d refused to cut, and the purple saber clipped to her belt. Still, she was practically bouncing as she made her way down the steps toward rows upon rows of shops advertising anything a person could ever want. Somewhere among the madness was Nesta’s little cantina, run by her friend Emerie most of the time. Feyre might stop in for a drink if she was feeling bold, though Tamlin wouldn’t approve.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, she reasoned. She’d just have to be careful to drink slow as alcohol went straight to her head.

Most things did, in truth. After a lifetime of denial, anything heady was practically a drug. 

Feyre fell into line, catching sight of the man handing out turbo dogs. Rhysand.

He’d appeared one day—or perhaps she’d merely never noticed him, though it seemed impossible that she could have walked by and not noticed him. His hair was so dark it gobbled up all the light around him, gilded blue in the late afternoon sun. Piercing blue eyes seemed practically violet when the shadows fell over his face just right, with brown skin that looked warm to the touch and just the shadow of a beard gracing the cut of his jaw. 

Not that she’d dare. She was definitely forbidden from that, though all the teaching in the world couldn’t truly stop her wanting. He looked up right on cue, smiling when he saw her just like he always did. There were people in front of her, so Feyre waited, schooling her face into careful neutrality when all she really wanted was to bound up to him and tell him everything.

What did it matter? Who was he going to tell? Feyre imagined, when she needed to temper some of her interest in this stranger, that he told stories of the Jedi Padawan to his friends in whatever local watering hole he frequented. Perhaps they all laughed.

But maybe he didn’t. 

“There you are,” Rhys said when it was finally her turn, large hands deftly putting her dog together. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. And Feyre considered herself rather well-traveled. She’d seen a lot of faces. Rhys’ was all sharp angles and graceful lines, drawn together just so—on anyone else it might have made them seem too severe or perhaps lopsided. Not Rhys, who seemed blessed by some otherworldly entity despite his rather humble profession. 

There, in a black tunic, she caught sight of the familiar black tattoo crawling up his neck, half hidden beneath the white shirt just beneath. What did they mean, she wondered? She’d never dared to ask.

“I was looking for you,” Rhys added when Ferye didn’t speak. Heat stole over her cheeks, causing her to duck her head. 

“I’m where I always am,” she replied, grateful there was no one behind her to hurry things along. 

“Still trapped in the Archives?” Rhys asked sympathetically. 

“Not for long,” she said, unable to contain her excitement. “I’ve been assigned to Umbara.”

His dark brows rose. “What business do the Jedi have on Umbara?”

Feyre shrugged, wishing she could tell him the truth. It was a betrayal, even if he was harmless enough. She’d tell him everything when she returned, besides. Likely with some embellishments to make herself seem more heroic and more skilled than she was. As if he knew the difference. 

“I thought Umbara was supposed to be dangerous,” he continued, quickly turning the sign on his stand to read closed. Another elicit thrill raced up her spine. He wanted to walk with her while she ate, dragging out their conversation just a little longer.

Feyre wiped sauce from the corner of her mouth quickly, hoping he didn’t notice how the red stained her sleeve. “It is,” she said through a mouthful, hoping Rhys found her charming and brave rather than young and a little pathetic. “But nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh, I’m certain of that. Is your Master still angry with you?”

She nodded, swallowing her bite quickly. “He thinks I’m reckless, but…” Biting her inner cheek, Feyre thought of the children who would have been swallowed by flames had she not intervened. Tamlin, and many other Jedi, would remind her it wasn’t possible to save everyone. She couldn’t let herself become so attached to simple strangers.

Feyre could feel them all in the force, just like every other Jedi. Their fear overwhelmed her, and try as she might, she simply could not block it out. Feyre let it all in, let their emotions rush over her like water until they clouded her judgment. And then she acted, honed by instinct and twenty one years of training. 

“But?” Rhys prompted, slowing his steps so Feyre didn’t have to work so hard to eat and breathe. They walked further from the temple, descending into one of the lower levels where the Jedi were unlikely to venture. He lived down there, somewhere. Did he see sunlight from his windows, she wondered? Or was he, like so many others, trapped in darkness? 

“It was wrong not to help,” she said fiercely, flooded with righteous emotion. Rhys smiled.

“I agree,” he said, running a hand casually through his hair. Feyre tried not to notice how a lock flopped into his eyes just as she tried not to imagine what it would be like to brush it away with her own fingers. 

“If I do this by the book, though, I think I can go around Tamlin to the Council and ask to take my trials,” she said, confessing to Rhys something she hadn’t even told her sisters. Again—it was harmless to tell him. He was just a man on Coruscant, her friend, truly. He had a passing interest in the Jedi and a passion for turbo dog meat. 

“What will you do then, once your Jedi Knight Feyre Archeron?” he questioned, eyes sliding to the padawan braid draped over her shoulder. 

“I don’t dare to think about it, just in case,” she said, finishing the rest of her meal and tossing the trash into a nearby bin. “I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Smart,” Rhys praised. “Who knows what’s waiting on a planet like Umbara.”

“Something dangerous, I hope,” she said with more bravado than she felt. If he guessed, he didn’t say.

“You should be careful,” he warned, just like he always did. It didn’t annoy her as much as when Tamlin said it, perhaps because Rhys wasn’t asking her to remain behind on Coruscant for safety reasons. Sometimes Feyre thought Tamlin wanted her to remain a Padawan until she died despite the early conversation they’d had all those years ago about her hopes and dreams. He’d been so supportive when she was younger.

Now he felt like a tyrant. 

Feyre left Rhys not long after when he said he needed to pick up a crate of meat, disappointed they never managed more than about ten minutes of time together. What she would say if she ever got more eluded her, though sometimes she conducted long conversations with him in her mind. At least there she was always witty, always charming, and he was always impressed with her. 

Feyre went to see Nesta and Elain, told them of her mission hastily, and promised she wouldn’t be gone too terribly long. How much time could it reasonably take to investigate the murders of a couple Jedi? They weren’t Masters, after all—it had been a trio of Knights she knew in passing, their bodies still missing. All that had been found were parts.

A hand here.

A torso there. 

Weapons missing. 

Feyre had a nightmare that evening, her mind grappling with what could have gone wrong to take out three Jedi in such a manner. Perhaps a bomb? A sniper hidden on a roof, cloaked somehow? 

Or, more thrilling and terrifying all at once, a long-extinct Sith somehow rose from the grave. Feyre had only ever heard stories of the legends—unlike Jedi, who were numerous, their Sith counterparts moved only in groups of two. A Master and Apprentice. Having spent so much time in the archives, Feyre read that once an apprentice finished their training, they’d kill their own Master and take an Apprentice of their own, thus repeating the vicious, cannibalistic cycle in perpetuity. 

The Sith were extinct, hunted to nothing centuries before Feyre had been born. If one managed to pop up, they’d be cut to pieces before they could manage to find and corrupt an apprentice, nevermind how they’d manage to truly immerse themselves in whatever perverse culture the Sith claimed. Still, it was an interesting fantasy and even after Feyre woke in a cold sweat, mind still racing from the shadows that seemed to press against her temple, she let herself imagine what it would be like to encounter one.

To cut one down.

Feyre bet they’d let her skip her trials if she did. Not that she wanted a Sith running around, of course. It was merely the wistful imaginings of all padawans hoping for glory. Feyre wanted to make a name for herself.

Old resentment bloomed in the morning as she packed her things into a sack, careful not to fill it to the brim. It would irk Tamlin, resulting in a lecture about how materialistic she was. Was it materialistic to not want to wash her robes every single night? In the sink, no less, while they were conserving water for drinking and washing? Tamlin would tell her to wear her tunic and robes more often between washings but Feyre got sweaty sitting in the cramped quarters of the ship. They started to smell like onions and while Tamlin might not mind, she certainly did.

Rolling them tight, Feyre packed three sets, closed up her knapsack, and made her way toward the shipyard just as dusk broke over the horizon. The light bounced off the metal buildings, half blinding her as she walked. 

What she wouldn’t have given for some shadows right then. 

Tamlin was waiting, handing over credits to the dock worker along with his clearance papers while they worked out which lane they’d take and what time they’d leave. It was all terribly boring, though she supposed it was important that they didn’t make the leap to hyperspace while another ship came out, obliterating them both in a fiery inferno.

Why did the thought amuse her? Feyre suppressed the smile forming as she clenched her fingers into fists, nails biting against her palm. Tamlin turned, eyes drifting toward her back at the pack slung over one shoulder. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to. Feyre could feel his disapproval coming off him in waves.

Silence was its own blessing, she supposed. Better than having to defend herself and submitting to the eventual lecture that would go on for what felt like ever. Still, she could feel his disappointment as they took their seat in the small, sleek craft they’d be in for only the force knew how long. Tamlin did the preliminary checks while Feyre settled everything in, finally sitting in the co-pilot's chair. 

Not a word was spoken until they jumped to hyperspace. Feeling his eyes burning holes against her skin, Ferye finally sighed with exasperation. “Just say it.”

“I think it was a mistake to involve you in this,” he said in that measured way of his, unaware of how deep his words cut. “You’re not ready for this kind of mission.”

“You don’t trust me.”

It wasn’t a question but merely a statement of fact. What other conclusion was she supposed to draw? Tamlin balked at every outing, especially as of late. Feyre had heard it a million times before and though she considered herself relatively tough, she thought she might cry if she had to listen to him list her faults again.

“When did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to say it,” Feyre snapped, swiveling in her chair to face him. Multicolored lights lit up the otherwise dark cockpit, while the console separated them. Feyre could see the saber resting lightly against Tamlin’s thigh and knew if he ignited it, she’d find the familiar green blade humming before her. It had once been a comforting sight.

She didn’t know what it was now. 

“I think I do need to say it in order for it to be true,” Tamlin replied, infuriating as ever. She wanted to wring his neck, an inappropriate thought she couldn’t shake.

“No, you don’t, because you say it a million different ways. I’m too reckless, I don’t think, I’m impulsive and every other little thing. And when you’re not constantly saying that, you’re arguing passionately to the Council that I don’t belong on missions and you refuse to help me prepare for the trials—”

“Have you considered that I am not ready to let you go?” Tamlin asked in a low voice.

Feyre paused. Oh, that was a dangerous thing to admit and they both knew it. Feyre’s eyes slid to the windshield before them, suddenly nervous. “You have to.”

“I know. I know,” he said, unaware that the low, urgent way he spoke those words angered her. He’d hold her back because he liked her? Even if it wasn’t forbidden—and Feyre had to believe that any kind of relationship between a Master and a Padawan was—it was downright cruel. She could be his peer, at least, and in a position to have this conversation with him without worrying he’d drop her in the archive again while avoiding her so she had no one to practice with. 

“I want to be a Knight, Tamlin,” she told him, fingers twisting in her lap. 

“There’s time—”

“You’re wasting it!” she burst out, rising from her chair so quickly she slammed her head against the low ceiling. “For the sake of feelings you know we can’t act on!”

“It’s only attachment that’s forbidden,” he argued, as if he hadn’t just admitted he was holding her back to satisfy his own desires. Feyre wanted to scream—wanted to wrap her hands around his large neck and squeeze until his eyes bulged and a raspy apology split from his lips. 

She’d take it too far if she didn’t get away from him. There was practically nowhere to go—down a ladder and into the hold, Tamlin right behind her. 

“Feyre–”

“No.”

Her heart thudded rapidly, lodging itself in her throat as she spun around. Tamlin’s tan skin paled at whatever he saw looking back at him, palms raised in defense. 

Take a breath. You are one with the force. Take a breath. 

“Feyre, can we talk about this?” he pleaded. There would be no avoiding it, and Feyre, never known for her tact, would have to figure out a way to navigate the conversation without throwing a wrench in her entire future. 

“Not now,” she said, exhaling through her nose. “I need—I need to think.”

Hope sprung like weeds in his eyes as Feyre tamped down her fury. Feyre knew, looking up at the man she’d once loved like a brother—respected like a father—and knew he would hold her hostage until she agreed to his terms. Lying felt wrong, deceiving him worse. If she went to the council, would they listen? Would they believe her over a Master? 

Tamlin nodded, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to find the words he wanted. “I just…I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

Feyre could think of a dozen Masters and Padawans who continued to work alongside each other. Was he not ready to say goodbye to her, or to the power he had over her? The thought chilled her, filling her with fear. 

“You don’t have to,” she replied in a careful, measured tone though every inch of her vibrated with panic. “Very little has to change.”

Tamlin offered a humorless laugh. “Even you don’t believe that, Feyre. You’ll race off on a dangerous mission by yourself the first moment you get.”

“I won’t,” Feyre protested. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she hated being alone. A mission by herself seemed like a particular brand of hell. Every moment Feyre got she was looking for company—seeking out the other padawans, her sisters, hell, even the turbo dog guy when she could catch him.

But rarely Tamlin. Not since he’d begun to sideline her and her resentment had grown like one of Elain’s gardens. When had that begun, anyway? Racking her brain, she realized it had been around the start of her nineteenth birthday. Two years—how foolish not to realize the underlying problem. There was so much wasted time and too much ground lost. 

Tamlin only shook his head. “Let's table this for now. You rest—I’ll keep watch.” She nodded, swallowing all the words she wanted to say as a plan began forming in her mind. She’d petition the council, she decided as she watched Tamlin climb back up the stairs. Either they’d believe her or they didn’t, but she was entitled to another Master if she wanted one.

The thought didn’t give her peace, though. As Feyre slid into the small bed hidden within the wall, her anger burned hot in her chest. This was not the Jedi way—she needed to find a way to forgive him for what he’d done to her.

But she couldn’t. Even in sleep, Feyre did not find peace. Her dreams were tinged red and shadowed, as though her anger had been made manifest. She woke to the sound of light beeping and Tamlin pulling open the small door so light flooded in.

“Can we trade?”

She only nodded, rubbing at her eyes as she scooted out of the narrow space. His fingers grazed her collarbone as she hopped to the ground, narrowly avoiding his hands reaching for her waist. Feyre had to resist the urge to slap him away, to not bark out, don't touch me. Tamlin merely watched, his disappointment obvious. What he thought was going to happen, she wondered? That he’d admit she’d been purposefully holding her back and hobbling her self-esteem simply to meet his own needs and she’d swoon? Fall into his arms? Abandon all the tenants of her teachings for him?

Feyre let him sleep longer than he had—Tamlin had only given her four hours, but Feyre gave him the remaining eight. She flung the door open just before they were about to burst out of hyperspace, and only because she was required to. He was still the Master, she his student and her whole future was in his hands.

“You’re angry.”

Feyre flipped the switches that would pull them just outside the atmosphere of Umbara, the neon blue of the stars fading as they slowed their descent.

“I’m frustrated,” she admitted, not wanting to give him any honesty at all. He was manipulating her, using the teachings of the Jedi against her and Feyre didn’t know how to fight back. She wasn’t equipped for these sorts of games, didn’t know the rules to even play. 

“I’m sorry,” Tamlin murmured, as if that was enough to erase two years of wasting her time. “Do you want to discuss it?”

“Is there any discussion we could have? Am I allowed to say no?”

“Stars, Feyre, I’m not—of course—” Tamlin set his jaw, grinding his teeth together loudly. “Of course you can.”

But everything in his body told her that he’d be angry if she did. It was written all over his face.

“Can we just wait until we’re back on Coruscant?” she asked, forcing herself to speak softer, lighter, to avoid whatever was brewing in his gut. “You don’t feel it?” Tamlin demanded.

“Tam,” Feyre breathed, invoking an old, familiar nickname. It was enough to settle him, the tension between them evaporating. “We’re in the atmosphere. Let's do our mission, go home, rest, and then we can discuss…us.”

She didn’t dare look at him. Could he taste the lie? Did he suspect she intended to speak with the council the minute her feet were back on Coruscant? Could he stop her? Feyre had too many questions as they were plunged into shadowy darkness. Umbara demanded her attention, pushing everything else to the side as Feyre stared. The local star was simply too far for its ray to penetrate, its reach beyond even the Republic. 

“What were they doing out here?” Feyre wondered aloud, breath curling around her face like shadow. 

“I don’t know,” Tamlin replied, deftly landing on the landing pad in the local ship port. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

“Where do we start?”

Tamlin knew, of course. They’d been too busy arguing over the state of their tattered relationship to discuss the mission, and now Tamlin had all the clues and all the control, just like he always did. Feyre would be given information piece-meal, rewarded when she pleased him and iced out when she irritated him. It had been that way between them for a while. At least she understood that part of the dynamic, bothered as she was by it. 

“This way,” he said, disembarking with barely a glance back. Fingers balled to fists, Feyre followed after him, eyes searching the dark hungrily. Umbara was hardly some backwater planet that barely had running water, let alone civilization. Umbara was advanced in a way that would have made the cosmopolitan Coruscanti residents weep. Towering buildings tried to banish the shadows, bathing the surface in artificial lights. If she strained her eyes beyond the urban sprawl, Feyre thought she could see rolling hills rising like mist in the distance. 

Maybe that was her imagination filling in the gaps. 

What was beyond the gloom, where not even technology and light could touch? What secrets did the shadows hold? Perhaps it hadn’t been anything sinister at all, but merely the wildlife that had gotten the Jedi. Feyre shivered in spite of herself, wishing she could step closer to Tamlin without it being uncomfortable. In one fell swoop, he’d wrecked the delicate bond between master and padawan.

Her resentment reignited, hot as any flame. Her emotions were all over the place, though carefully guarded to keep Tamlin from sensing them. She’d learned to do this as a youngling, annoyed that she broadcast her every feeling to anyone who happened to be near, but perfected it when she found her sisters. Feyre didn’t trust the Jedi not to make them leave, even if it was a little unfair. Maybe they wouldn’t have.

But maybe they would have. And Feyre simply couldn’t take the risk. 

On the busy streets, Feyre kept her eyes straight ahead even as she examined the people from the corners. Umbarians were near human—their skin pale and bluish from the lack of sunlight, their hair white or silver, though sometimes so impossibly black that Feyre wasn’t sure if it was hair at all. Pale blue eyes peered through the gloom and she’d heard they could see colors regular humans couldn’t, though who knew how true that really was. Feyre wished they could linger and she could spend some time immersed in the local culture, but Tamlin walked quickly, determined to get them both in and out. Whether that was merely to conclude his investigation or bring their conversation to the fore, Feyre couldn’t tell. He was inscrutable that way. 

Along one of the neatly laid streets stood a rather shady looking cantina, even by Coruscant's standards. Feyre felt a thrill of excitement as Tamlin walked through the hissing steam of the door into the smell of liquor and sweat. 

Feyre’s eyes snagged on the chrome bar and the two impossibly large men seated on too-small stools. They likely would have fit a regular man perfectly fine—Tamlin could have sat with no issues at all. These men were built like warriors, with warm brown skin so at odds with the milky paleness of the locals and strange, scrawling tattoos inked in black. They both turned, their hazel eyes nearly gold as they landed first on Tamlin, and then Feyre. 

The larger of the two had his wavy, dark hair pulled half off a face marked with scars, confirming her theory he was a warrior. The other, more classically handsome, with shorter hair and sharper features, seemed entirely unblemished. That didn’t mean he looked less lethal. Feyre reached out with the force, trying to get a sense of these men but nothing but oily cold greeted her. Likely mercenaries, she decided as they turned back to their cups and the beautiful blonde woman wiping down the counter with a stained rag.

She had familiar eyes, though Feyre couldn’t quite place them. Was it the dark brown, or the shape? Blonde hair cascaded over fair skin, neatly curled either by her own hand or good genetics. Tamlin’s eyes lingered for a moment, too, before his lips pressed in a severe line. He didn’t speak as he approached—he merely swept his robe to the side to reveal his saber hanging from his belt.

The two warriors sitting at the bar grinned. Feyre didn’t think Tamlin noticed. Around them, people of varying species sat at tables, the hum of chatter enough to drown out their own conversation. 

“I wondered when your lot was going to turn up,” the blonde said, offering Feyre a smile that felt less menacing and warmer than what she’d given Tamlin. “Might as well sit down.”

Feyre did before Tamlin could stop her, hand on her shoulder as she slid next to the massive, long haired man. 

“We’re not here to drink. Three Jedi were slaughtered nearby, and the last place they were seen was here. In your cantina.”

“I’m Morrigan, though my friends call me Mor. You, I think, can call me Morrigan—you don’t seem like you have a lot of friends and I don’t see that changing anytime soon,” the woman told him, filling up a tankard of ale as if Tamlin hadn’t said anything. She slid it right past him to Feyre and somehow it felt like a test.

Antagonizing the locals wasn’t going to help them, Feyre reasoned. They needed information and they sounded like police. Relax, she wished she could say to Tamlin. But he was too rigid, too set in his ways and too proud to ever admit there might be a better way to get things done. His disapproval frustrated her even as she raised the spicy brew to her lips.

It earned Mor’s approval. 

“Look,” she said, cutting Tamlin off just as he was about to speak. Her eyes were still trained on Feyre as she pulled out a holo disc. “Your friends were here—I never disputed that fact and I’m not now. They came in for a few drinks, as you can see here…and then they left. Alive.”

Feyre did see that. The holo, sped up, showed all three knights order a drink, sit at a nearby table, and eventually leave with all their limbs in tact.

“It’s a rough planet,” the man next to her said, obviously eavesdropping. “Plant probably got them.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. It was possible, of course, though it seemed unlikely.

“Did they say what they were doing out here?” Tamlin demanded, his irritation plain. 

“Bet they were following the rumors,” the other man said, his voice icy and dark. Feyre nearly choked on her ale at the sound, eyes sliding of their own accord back to his beautiful face. He wore fingerless gloves, revealing horrific scars over the little skin he had revealed. What had happened to him? 

“What rumors?” Tamlin’s temper was rising, his force signature warming Feyre’s cool skin. 

“Is this a local ghost story?” Feyre asked them, offering up her most charming smile. 

“Something like that,” the man beside her chuckled. “They say he’s some kind of force user. Powerful.”

“Impossible,” Tamlin dismissed. 

“Cassian. Azriel,” Mor murmured, though there was no displeasure on her face. It was merely an order to mind their own business. Despite her more diminutive stature, both men returned to their drinks looking a little shamed. 

“Do you think they’re true?” Feyre asked, ignoring the waves of frustration rolling off Tamlin.

“I know three Jedi walked out of this bar alive, and met something in the dark,” Mor said, leaning forward so her hair spilled across the bar. “The wildlife and fauna here are dangerous if you’re stupid or careless. I didn’t think Jedi were either.”

“They’re not,” Tamlin all but hissed.

“Then maybe you ought to start there,” Mor said, eyes still only on Feyre. 

“They say he’s just outside the city,” Cassian added, nosing his way back into the conversation. “Lives on the edge of a mountain.”

“Or was it in the mountain?” Azriel asked with a sharp grin. Feyre knew they were trying to scare her and Tamlin, but she was genuinely intrigued. A dark force user seemed unlikely, but perhaps some kind of equivalent ability, like the Nightsisters were said to have. She wanted to know more than she wanted to unravel the mystery of the dead Jedi. 

“This was helpful,” Tamlin said in a tone that suggested the exact opposite as he tossed a couple credits onto the bar. Thanks for nothing, she swore she heard him say, though his lips never moved. Feyre gulped down the rest of her drink while Cassian and Azriel went back to studiously looking anywhere but at the rest of them. 

“Take care,” Mor said only to Feyre, offering a pretty smile. “I’ll see you around.”

Cassian and Azriel both turned to look at her with those unnerving eyes, their smiles suggesting the same thing. No one looked at Tamlin at all, who half jerked her off the stool and toward the door. Feyre stumbled, looking over her shoulder to find their smiles gone, replaced by some other emotion that almost looked like fury. 

“There was something strange about them,” Feyre said the moment they were back in the dark. “Didn’t you think—”

“Why didn’t you let me handle it?” Tamlin demanded, rounding on her so quickly that she did fall back then, her ass hitting the ground hard enough to rumble up her spine. She scrambled to her feet, eyes smarting with embarrassment. “They were making fun of you!”

“They—they weren’t,” she insisted, swallowing the urge to cry. She thought of how Mor had looked at her with respect, pulling out that puck so Feyre could see the Jedi had left unharmed.

If she’d been crueler, she would have told Tamlin the truth. They spoke with derision because they didn’t like him. 

“Let's go,” he said, his eyes like ice. “We can circle back in the morning.”

“Fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Feyre stewed as they walked toward the inn they’d be sleeping in, grateful for the two beds that were provided rather than one. If she had to sleep next to Tamlin, she thought she might have flung herself out a window. They still shared the small space, dodging the other as best they could, tempers still high. He kept sighing, waiting for her to ask him what he was thinking like she often did in the past. She didn’t, though. 

Feyre fell asleep thinking not about Tamlin, but what Mor had told her. Of the man who supposedly lived in or around the mountain and the power he commanded. It seemed more like a children’s story meant to keep them from wandering and yet…had those Jedi gone looking? It would be tempting, certainly, especially if that man had been framed as a force user. She wanted to go looking, too, even if Tamlin didn’t, though she didn’t know how to convince him of it. 

Feyre woke to darkness and Tamlin already dressed. He was standing by the door, hair left around his face.

“You’re awake. Good. I’ve been thinking about last evening,” he began, hand reaching for the control panel on the wall. Feyre sat up, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm.

“What about it?” she asked.

“I think it’s best if I conclude this investigation on my own. You’re…you’re safer here, I think.”

Feyre’s mouth fell open of its own accord, snapped shut as she processed his words. “Safer?”

“I want you to remain in this room until I return—”

“No!”

“I’m sorry, Feyre. But things will move much faster, and go smoother, if you just let me handle this.”

“Tamlin!”

She scrambled out of bed, but he was quicker, reflexes sharper. He offered one last glance back, eyes hardly apologetic at all.

“Tamlin!” she yelled, but the door hissed shut just in time for her palm to smack against the cool metal. She screamed his name twice to no avail. He’d locked her in the room. Feyre turned toward the window, too small for her to crawl out of even if she shattered it. 

Think, she ordered herself, but the walls of the tiny room seemed to close in on her, the darkness heavy and oppressive. Tamlin was a lot of things, but at their foundation, he was her mentor. Her teacher.

Her friend.

Did she mean anything to him at all? Or was she merely an object for him to protect with no consideration of her own wants, needs, or desires? Feyre’s hurt shifted into anger, her mind replaying the argument in the ship. The realization he had been holding her back because he wanted to keep her around longer, that he would derail her entire life to satisfy himself. He was supposed to put his padawan above himself and yet…

Feyre went back to the door, reaching back into the force. It was wrong—so, so wrong—to use it the way she was. The once warm air chilled as she embraced, just for a moment, the hatred she felt. Metal crunched and snapped, the bolts whining before they broke entirely. When Tamlin returned, he’d know what she’d done and how she’d done it.

Let him, she thought as she gripped tight to that anger. It was a lifeline right then, antithetical to her teachings as it was. Hatred, anger, fear—all led to the dark side of the force. She needed to let it go.

All Jedi touch the dark side. 

She’d read that in one of the books in the archive. Well, here she was, touching it too. Feyre stepped from the ruined wreckage feeling more powerful than she ever had in her life. She’d atone when she returned to Coruscant, would tell the Council everything and hoped they understood her reasons, her feelings.

But right then, Feyre didn’t care about any lesson Tamlin had ever taught her. He’d betrayed her many times over, so thoroughly that it couldn’t be repaired with centuries worth of time. It was tempting to hunt him down and confront him, but Tamlin was a Master who’d been trained by someone who valued his education. He’d beat her easily—smugly.

No.

Once outside, Feyre’s gaze turned toward the darkness and the mountains she assumed lingered just beyond. For only a moment, Feyre took stock of herself. Was she afraid of what she’d find? 

Was she afraid to die?

No.

Feyre stepped with confidence, unafraid of the darkness around her. Maybe it was unchecked hubris that guided her, or some sense that the force would protect her. Feyre didn’t bother thinking too much about it, vanishing out of the city toward the mountains that loomed overhead like great, craggy fingers. All at once, Feyre understood why people would imagine a monster lived here—who else might survive it? It occurred to her, as she got further and further from the city, that this was foolish—she ought to go back to the ship and send a message to the Council before Tamlin knew what she had done. 

Feyre nearly turned back—she should have. If it hadn’t been for an overwhelming tug in her gut, she might have abandoned her plan entirely. Feyre kept moving, her body knowing the way even as her mind raced. She could feel the presence of something—someone—watching, waiting. The wind picked up, ruffling her hair around her face and too late, Ferye realized she hadn’t bothered to braid her long hair, nor had she changed from her training pants and tank-top. She’d merely run out, caring only that her feet were laced up in her white boots and her saber was clipped to her belt. It should have felt cold but Feyre was warm as her speed picked up, eyes trying desperately to cut through the dark. 

It never occurred to Feyre she might be running straight into a trap until a strong, bare arm wrapped itself like a noose around her neck. Clotheslined back, Feyre gagged as her fingers attempted to pry the grip off to no avail. She twisted, catching sight of a strange, angular mask in the gloom and familiar black tattoo’s scrawled up her assailant's strong bicep and Feyre swore smoke trailed off him, creating massive wings just behind him.

The man was strong, but Feyre was quick, kicking behind her to catch him in the knee. He grunted through the mask as she spun, heart racing, and ignited her purple blade. Whatever he was, Feyre was certain he was no match for an armed Jedi. Feyre didn’t wait for him to regain the upper hand, swinging furiously with all the skill she’d earned over the years.

Her breath caught as his own blade ignited, a brilliant, bleeding red, to block her strike. For a moment they were deadlocked, her staring up into that eyeless mask while their sabers hummed with anticipation. 

“You’re—”

He pushed back though he didn’t come forward to strike her again. Instead, he cocked his helmeted head as though curious to see what she’d do next. Feyre couldn’t breathe fully, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“That’s a Jedi’s weapon.”

The dark, mechanical laugh that sounded in response made her heart stumble. 

“Where did you get it?”

She didn’t expect an answer, though Feyre could force one from him. He wasn’t a Jedi—she’d never seen a blade that color before. Lunging, Feyre struck again, expecting to reveal his inability to truly wield it. A lightsaber belonged to a Jedi the way a person’s arm did—it was instinctual, innate. Not just anyone could pick it up and wield it. You needed a connection to the force and this person…

This person had it. He blocked her with skill, moving quicker than he should have been able to. Feyre was all offensive strikes, hair whipping around her face until she could smell the singed edges on the wind mingled with the sweat dripping from his skin. 

“Who are you?” she panted when he forced her back, just hard enough to put six feet of space between them. 

He didn’t answer, head snapping up to look behind her as something rough gripped Feyre around the navel and wrenched her back so forcefully it stole the remaining breath from her lungs. Tamlin has used the force to remove her from the fight, stepping around her with his green blade ignited. Feyre wanted to scream, though if it was to warn the assailant or Tamlin, she didn’t know. She couldn’t move, dazed and pinned by Tamlin’s superior use of the force. All she could do was lay there, desperately gasping for air, as Tamlin spoke words she barely heard. 

The warrior with the red blade made the first strike, moving in a blur of color that made her stomach roil. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might have been toying with her and yet watching him match Tamlin blow for blow, Feyre knew with sickening clarity what was coming. 

“Let me go,” she whispered. His pride would be his downfall, would get them both killed. “Let me help you.”

If he heard her whispered plea, Tamlin didn’t respond. He moved just as quickly, dodging rocks half hidden beneath the soft grass. The pair vanished over a hillside for a moment before they were back, dodging and striking like two masters determined to see the other one fall. For a moment, Feyre thought Tamlin had the upper hand when he kicked the warrior in the chest, his blade slipping from his grip. Tamlin attacked three in a row, bashing the assailant over his mask until it was cracked-useless.

Tamlin raised his own saber to make the killing blow but she knew, somehow, what was coming. The assailant reached out, his own blade flying back into his hand. He pulled, turning one red blade into two. 

Tamlin couldn’t react fast enough. With one hand, his green saber was blocked while the other humming red blade drove neatly through Tamlin’s throat. His grip on her relinquished and Feyre scrambled to her feet, noting that Tamlin had managed to cut open the warrior's helmet. 

Tamlin fell to his knees, turning his head to look at her before he died. If he truly saw her or not, she didn’t know.

He was dead before his shoulders touched the ground.

Feyre made her way over, holding her own blade with something akin to fear. Blinking, it didn’t register who was standing in front of her until she heard a familiar voice.

“Surprise.”

Exhaling a shaking breath, she drank in the sweat soaked onyx hair now falling into violet-blue eyes. Rhys cocked his head again to look at her, a half smile playing on his lips.

“You killed Tamlin,” she whispered.

“Was that its name?” he replied without remorse. “You brought him here.”

“I—” Feyre didn’t know what to say. Rhys continued to look at her with that cold amusement. “You didn’t kill me.”

“I didn’t come to kill you, Feyre.”

Her grip on her blade tightened. “Then why are you here? You…you pulled me here.”

His smile widened as he stepped over Tamlin’s still warm body like it was little more than trash. Perhaps to him it was. 

“Just as you pulled me to Coruscant,” he said, peering down at her with curiosity. 

Feyre yielded a step, keeping distance between them. Her mind was screaming static, unable to string together anything coherent. Feyre couldn’t figure out what was happening. She wasn’t adrift, but she didn’t feel awake anymore. This was a dream, somehow, and Feyre would wake up still angry with Tamlin, who would be alive.

She hadn’t wanted him to die. She’d just…she’d just wanted to be free.

“What do you mean?” she heard herself ask, her own voice taking on a dream-like quality. 

Something soft pulled against her—not the force, or, not exactly. It wasn’t like when Tamlin had pinned her to the soft grass, the force a boulder against her chest. This was more muscle memory, something that lived within her. 

“You’ve been calling me for a long time. When I was a boy, I used to dream about skies the color of your eyes,” he murmured, tilting his head again to study her. 

“You’ve been watching me.”

His grin widened. “Yes.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

He shook his head, hair sliding along his forehead. “You know that’s not true. I feel it, you know. Your pain, your anger…your hatred. I feel it all, Feyre. I could take it all away from you.”

She stumbled back another step. “No,” she whispered, unsure if she was telling him, or herself. He only smiled, his face still illuminated beneath the hum of his vibrant blade. 

“The Jedi are holding you back, Feyre,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. Feyre swore she could feel the words caress her cheek like a phantom kiss, cool against her overheated skin. “They refuse to see how magnificent you are and are afraid of the power you hold. They will never give you what you want.”

A strange, half-sob, half breath escaped Feyre. All she could do was shake her head back and forth, still stumbling back. She shouldn’t have come, she should have stayed in the room. Tamlin—Tamlin had been right. “This is my fault,” she managed, panting as she continued to move away from Rhys.

“Feyre,” he warned, stalking forward for her. Feyre broke into a sprint he interrupted with the force, lifting her off her feet and dragging her back to him. Feyre’s toes skimmed against the grass and though she could not move, Rhys wasn’t hurting her, either. He merely held her gaze, searching for something she prayed wasn’t there. 

“What do you want from me?” she whispered. “What are you?”

He stretched his neck left, and then right, his tattoos catching in the light. Too late, Feyre realized she’d seen them in the cantina the day before—Cassian and Azriel had sported the same ones. They’d told her about the force user, they’d lured her here. But worse, even, was the knowledge that they’d only been able to do that because Feyre had told Rhys before she’d left. She’d told him she was going to Umbara. She’d laid her own trap for him.

“There is no name for what I am, though I think the Jedi call me Sith,” Rhys said, his voice low and cold. “I want you, Feyre. Join me. Let me train you, teach you—not as an apprentice or acolyte. An equal.”

Sith. 

Fear won, in the end. Feyre pushed against his hold, shoving him so far back that he spun several times through the air before landing far from her in the distance, his saber finally sheathed. Feyre didn’t wait—she took off running as quickly as she could. There was no escaping him on Umbara, but if she could warn the Council, she could—stars, she didn’t know. 

Feyre made it to her ship, closing it up and turning it on before she managed to catch her breath. It was a betrayal to leave Tamlin’s body on Umbara, to not give him a proper burial befitting a Jedi Master and Feyre was afraid. 

She should have been. The moment Feyre made the jump to hyperspace, she heard him.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys murmured, appearing seemingly from nowhere. He had her cornered in the cockpit, his larger body blocking the only way out of the ship. Anger replaced fear as she screamed, launching herself from the chair with such force she didn’t feel pain when her thigh clipped the edge of the dash. She and Rhys went plummeting into the hold, tumbling to the hard, cold steel in a tangle of elbows and limbs. He groaned when her knee connected between his legs, causing her to slam it against him again, just because she hated him.

Straddling his waist, Feyre hit him so hard a small amount of his blood splattered against her cheek. Raising her fist to hit him again, Feyre realized he was grinning with red stained teeth, eyes watching her not with anger or horror, but delight.

“Do it,” he said, pushing his hips into her as his hands held her firm against him. “Hit me. Hurt me.”

“I thought you were my friend,” she accused, trying to writhe free of his grasp. There were a pair of stun cuffs hanging just beyond the door to the sleeping chamber and if she could grab them, she could restrain him. Could at least force him to face justice for what he’d done.

“I am your friend, Feyre. You just haven’t realized it because you’re so indoctrinated,” Rhys replied, still holding her tight.

“Let me go,” she ordered and to her surprise, he did. Feyre scrambled to her feet, careful not to look at the stun cuffs even as she inched close enough she could have snatched them. Rhys, too, stood, wincing slightly. Good. She hoped he hurt, that he had bruises in places he couldn’t even mention. That they reminded him of her when he was alone in a cell buried on Coruscant. 

“I’m not going to join you,” she threatened. 

Rhys only shook his head. “You will.”

Feyre backed away slowly as he approached, letting him play predator for just a moment. She wasn’t sure she liked the look in his eye—the same she’d seen on Tamlin’s face when he admitted why he wouldn’t let her take the trials. Rhys reached for her face, fingers curled to brush her cheek and Feyre struck. Quicker than he expected, she slid the cuff around his wrist, chaining the other to a nearby beam.

Rhys only laughed. Even when she pulled his sabers off his belt he still laughed, watching her like she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen in his entire life. “Feyre,” he all but crooned, still looking exactly like a predator. His eyes seemed to shift right then, the violet shifting to red and back just long enough for her to see what the darkside had done to him. “Feyre, darling. You’re acting as if I am not exactly where I want to be.”

“In a prison cell on Coruscant?” she hissed in response.

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll make it that far, do you?”

“Yes. I think I’ll testify at your trial and watch them behead you.”

Rhys only grinned. “We’ll see.”

Feyre left him there to gather her thoughts, strangely calm in the wake of the restrained Sith Lord in her hold. No one had prepared her for this—she’d never been trained for this situation. She shouldn’t be angry with Tamlin, who couldn’t defend himself, but if he’d just taught her like a Master should have, she might know. Everything Feyre knew, she’d taught herself and it showed. 

Her fingers hovered over the console, hesitating when she went to dial the code to reach the Council. She didn’t need Tamlin’s advice to teach her that, at least. They could advise her. 

Tell them. 

Feyre’s indecision cost her. She was exhausted, her adrenaline ebbing as she sat in the cockpit, warring with herself on what to do, how best to act. What even to say. How to explain that this was her fault, that she’d kept secrets even when having friends outside the temple wasn’t forbidden. She should have known, though. Should have sensed him.

Why hadn’t she?

Feyre’s fingers pulled back against her chest, her decision made when she felt him behind her. She barely had time to turn before Rhys raised his hands.

“Forgive me for this,” he murmured before he ripped the force over her head like a blanket. The world went dark, and Feyre was lost to slumber.

To peace.

Feyre woke with a start. The air was warm and she was in a rather large bed, still clothed in her tank top and trousers, though her boots were missing and her feet were bare. Reaching beneath the heavy silver blanket, she found her saber, too, was gone. Feyre kicked off the blankets and made her way across cool marble for a door that was, predictably, locked.

A note on a table just beside, in elegant cursive, read, 

Feyre,

You are not my prisoner, though the door may suggest otherwise. Please relax until I return.

I will explain,

Rhys

Would he explain why he’d disarmed her, too? Feyre crumpled it in her fist before stalking for a set of large windows overlooking an amethyst river winding down the mountain peaks. Certain he was about to give her some lecture about how she was his guest who simply wasn’t allowed to leave, Feyre took herself first to the ‘fresher to wash the blood, sweat, and anxiety from her skin before putting on the only clothing available to her.

He was a bastard, offering up those satin cuffed pants in a pale blue color, alongside a matching top that tapered to a point just above her navel. No shoes, no socks—nothing but bare feet and an exposed collarbone that offered far too much real estate for him to damage should they come to blows again. 

There was nothing to do once she was dressed but pace and ruminate. Feyre tried to hold her anger over what had happened on Umbara, and in her own way, she supposed she did. Only, instead of seeing Rhys cutting down Tamlin with ruthless efficiency, she saw Tamlin’s face as he admitted he didn’t want her to take the trials because she’d leave him. She saw his dismissal when he told her she couldn’t complete the mission with him.

Saw how he’d died because he refused to let her fight alongside him. 

And in her heart, Feyre knew that if she’d been allowed to join the fight, Rhys would have backed down. Wouldn’t have fought them both as hard because she was important to him for some twisted reason. They could have destroyed Rhys. They could have walked back to the Jedi as heroes who’d seen the faces of other Sith and could better hunt them back into extinction.

He didn’t trust her. Hadn’t viewed her as someone who could help. 

Now he was dead and she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. Feyre turned as the door hissed open, her thoughts settling as Rhys strolled in.

He, too, had showered, his dark hair pushed off his face and his beard a mere shadow clinging to his jaw. The faint red of his eyes shifted in the light, slipping into violet as he came fully into view. 

“Is there some sort of dress code here?” she asked, noting his sleeveless black attire once again. 

“Blue looks wonderful on you,” was his reply. “You look well rested.” “No thanks to you,” she snapped.

Rhys shrugged his broad shoulders. “Someone ought to attempt to take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me! I need you to let me go.”

“Where will you go?” he asked casually, glancing at the door still open behind him. “Back to Coruscant.”

Feyre opened her mouth to tell him yes, but the word didn’t come out. She’d hesitated on the ship and she was hesitating now. 

A smile spread over sensual lips. “Ah. See? You don’t want to return.”

“That’s not true.”

Rhys reached for his belt where her saber was clipped and tossed her to her with ease, eyes tracking the movement. “No, you don’t. You could have cut me down—”

“I can’t,” she said with an air of breathless desperation. “I’m only a padawan.”

His brows crinkled. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means I’m just a student. I…” Feyre didn’t know how to explain it to him. “You didn’t have a Master?”

His grin widened. “Once. For a time, I suppose.”

“Did you kill him?”

Rhys only continued to smile, his silence answer enough. 

“I couldn’t have killed you,” she repeated, trying to get her point across. “You spared me.”

“I had no intention of taking your life, but I wouldn’t have stopped you from taking mine. To die at your hands…that would have been an honor. To see you take up my helm, lead my warriors…” His smile was almost dreamy.

“I thought Sith only moved in pairs.”

“I am no Sith, Feyre,” he said, cocking his head so a lock of dark hair fell against his eyes. “Those are Jedi terms, not mine. I never said I was Sith, nor do we put labels on what we are.”

“But you are evil,” she shot back.

Rhys arched one dark brow. “Am I? From where I’m standing, it seems I did you a favor. I freed you from the shackles of a man who warped his teachings and traditions to keep you under his thumb for his own selfish desires—”

“And what do you call all this?!” she demanded with a shriek.

“Liberation,” he replied easily, as though he’d practiced this very speech and it was going exactly as he hoped. “You can be free of Jedi doctrine and dogma, can do whatever you like. Feyre, your power, I—”

He ran a hand through his dark hair as he stepped toward her, more cautious than he’d been on Umbara. “I could show you.”

“Sith don’t do equals,” she said, well aware she was really asking with curiosity rather than slinging accusations. “Only Masters and Apprentices.”

“I am Sith only by your standards,” Rhys replied with more earnestness than he had any right to express. “Dark, light…it’s all just the force.”

This was dangerous and she knew it. Rhys’s eyes flashed red for just a moment, reminding her that the Sith were liars by nature. Master manipulators. It was working, though and he must have known it. When had he gotten so close? Rhys reached for a lock of her hair, curling it around his fingers.

“I feel your pain, Feyre. I’ve felt it for a long time. You’ve spent a lifetime trying to meditate it away but what if you embraced it?”

“I’d be a traitor to everything I believed. Just like you are,” she repeated, stepping away from him before she could get too lost in his words. They tempted her, pulling her down as though he were some great, all-encompassing current. 

Back turned, Feyre only heard the hiss of his ignited saber. “Fight me, Jedi,” Rhys snarled, his voice laced with condemnation. “Fight me so I can show you what you really are.”

Feyre whirled around too fast, forgetting to think about what was happening. With a pushing leap in the air, Feyre’s blade was lit and crashing against Rhys’s before her feet touched the ground again. He grinned savagely, blocking the blow like it was nothing to him. Who cared how she killed him, Feyre reasoned as she lifted her blade again. So long as he was dead.

Rhys dodged her in a flurry of swings, but didn’t move to attack her back until Feyre got a little too close to his throat. Her blade singed over his cheekbone, sparing his facial hair, drawing a neat line of blood over his otherwise immaculate skin.

He was brutal, then, eyes a burning red as he spun on her, forcing Ferye to take on the defensive position rather than the offensive. Her wrist ached from the effort to keep that saber in her hand, though Feyre did not back down, either. Feyre, perhaps, should have realized what he was trying to do when the backs of her knees hit the side of the bed, but Feyre hadn’t put Rhys’s plan together until he’d wrenched her blade from her hand, tossed it across the room, and pinned her beneath his body and the mattress.

“You hate me,” he panted, sweat sliding down his forehead. His dark hair was soaked again, falling into those unnatural eyes like branches of a willow. He was beautiful right then, unfairly so, with his cheeks flushed and his wild eyes. “Say it.”

“I hate you,” she replied, gaze drifting toward his mouth. She shouldn’t want someone like him. 

“I almost believe you,” Rhys replied, chest heaving from the exertion of their fight. She hadn’t realized she was panting, too, until he leaned close enough she could practically taste his breath. Feyre hitched her leg up over his hip in an attempt to roll away, but Rhys grabbed her thigh, holding her so she could feel how uninterested in fighting her he was. 

“I’ve waited,” he murmured, lips caressing the side of her jaw as his other hand came to her throat. Rhys pinned her by her neck, fingers squeezing just enough to make her dizzy. “You’re the only woman in the galaxy I’d pretend to serve turbodogs for.”

“You think turbodogs are beneath you?” she asked. Feyre would have laughed at the realization that this brutal Sith Lord spent years on Coruscant pretending to be little more than a vendor if she hadn’t been so turned on right then. 

“I think pretending to be something I’m not was beneath me,” Rhys said, mouth touching hers. It was brief, a whispered breath before he pulled away to look, but Feyre felt it. His touch was electric, waking up a slumbering piece of her soul she hadn’t known existed at all. Rhys saw it, his smile triumphant.

“You’re mine, Jedi,” he murmured, cocking his head to the side as he arched a brow. Tell me I’m wrong, that arrogant look seemed to say. 

She couldn’t and he knew it. Rhys had known it the moment he turned up on Umbara because Feyre had been telling him so since they’d become friends. She’d told him her frustrations, her hopes, her irritations…Rhys knew it all. Could sense her even when she’d been too clouded to sense him. Maybe this dormant part of her had always recognized him.

Or maybe she merely liked the man hovering over top her, his eyes giving away his plan. Feyre met his gaze. Rhys stopped playing his games, mouth slanting over hers with a heady, desperate groan. Feyre kissed him back, tasting the sweat and heat on his tongue mingled with the left over copper from their fight. Feyre learned quite quickly that kissing him was a lot like fighting him.

He wanted to break her down until she gave in, and this was a far more effective battle in which Feyre yielded too much too soon.

After all, it was her leg he had hitched around his waist. She could have pretended he was driving the whole thing but Feyre was rubbing against him like a cat. It felt good, his hand around her throat, his cock between her legs, his tongue in her mouth. Worse, even, were her hands slipping from where he’d pinned them over her head, stuck thanks to the heaviness of his body laid across her own. Distracted by the kissing, Rhys didn’t notice until Feyre had them against his chest, not to shove, but to run them down the smooth material of his tunic. Rhys sighed, his thumb pressing against the hollow of her throat for only a moment.

Feyre gasped, arching her neck for a deeper breath. Rhys pounced, kissing her deeper, more fervently. She’d done exactly what he’d wanted, opening entirely so he could 

“You really didn’t know it was me?” he breathed, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. “Not even deep down?”

Feyre fisted her fingers at the nape of his neck, wanting him to just shut up, even for one second. No, she thought to herself as their teeth collided in a frenzy of need, the darkside clouds everything. 

But she’d been clouded by her own anger, her frustrations with Tamlin and the lack of movement in her career. Feyre wouldn’t have noticed Rhys was sith if he’d worn a badge printed to the front of his chest declaring him such. Surely he knew it.

“I need you. Right now,” Rhys breathed, his mouth sliding from her lips to kiss a path down her jaw. His teeth caught on her earlobe, tugging just a little rougher than she thought he meant to, though Feyre enjoyed it. The hand on her thigh moved toward her bare stomach, teasing the thin material as he pushed it higher and higher.

“I don’t—I’ve never—”

“I’ll talk you through it,” he promised, taking his other hand off her throat as he slid himself down the length of her body to settle on the floor between her legs. “I’m going to lick your pussy now.”

Feyre blinked, her mind frustratingly blank. Rhys took advantage, removing the pants he’d provided for her with ease to toss them over his broad shoulders like they were nothing.

“Peace is a lie, Feyre,” he murmured, once she was bared before him. Callused fingers slid up her thighs, parting them wider and wider until she was spread obscenely. 

“No peace,” Rhys repeated, his gaze burning as it raked over her half naked form. “Only passion.”

Rhys did exactly as he promised, licking up the center of her body while holding her gaze. It felt like there was some kind of magic there, something hypnotic that kept Feyre from looking away. Maybe it was simply her need for control that kept her eyes pinned on him. Whatever it was, Feyre panted as she watched, her arousal burning through the last remaining defenses she had.

No peace—only passion. 

Peace had always been hard, even with hours of mediation. Feyre understood passion well, though—she’d been battling it her entire life. Swallow her anger, swallow her frustration—swallow everything in an effort to find some higher purpose. She’d failed over and over.

Maybe a better teacher could have shown her a clearer path.

Maybe she’d always been destined to fall. 

Feyre arched her hips as Rhys drew her closer, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to tease his tongue over her clit. Over and over, in rhythmic circles, until she felt like she might die. Feyre was too hot, the desire burning through her from the inside out.

Rhys moaned against her skin, fingers spreading her wider before teasing her sensitive opening. Inch by agonizing inch he went, pushing that finger further and further until Feyre was whimpering, hips rolling against his hand and mouth looking for relief. Rhys only chuckled. 

“Needy,” he taunted, his voice strained. “What will you look like impaled on my cock?”

“Please,” Feyre replied, though she wasn’t sure if she was asking him to return to licking or shutting up. “Rhys, please.”

He lowered his face again, eyes rolling back into his skull before he resumed his attention on her swollen clit. Feyre barely noticed the way he worked that second finger into her body until he pulled away again, swearing softly about the tightness of her body. She was so close to finishing and desperate for it. 

He knew it. Rhys began pumping his fingers in and out of her body rougher, his mouth sped up until Feyre’s head hit the mattress, staring upward at the dark ceiling. “Rhys,” she pleaded. Her body was on fire, electric and aching. Her arousal wound its way up her spine, settling at the back of her throat and in her lower belly. He sucked, fingers curling so they found some secret spot only she’d ever known about and Feyre was undone. She screamed without meaning to, half plea, half prayer—the only word that escaped his name. Rhys didn’t stop until Feyre whimpered, boneless and exhausted on the bed.

“You’re not done yet,” Rhys said, rising up to his full height. Feyre could only watch as he peeled off his clothes, head cocked like a predator once more. “I won’t rest until I’ve had all of you.”

“And then what?”

“Then you’re mine,” he breathed, fingers unclasping the button on his pants. He’d already removed his top, revealing a toned body worthy of the arms she’d seen during their fight and more muscles than she’d known one person could reasonably have. The tattoos were on full display, unbroken by clothing though still just as indecipherable. She started to ask him what they meant, but Rhys’s pants fell to the floor, revealing the thick, hard length of him and Feyre forgot about everything else.

“You can’t put that in my body,” she whispered as he crawled toward her, the muscles of his back shifting with each graceful movement.

“I can,” he murmured, lowering himself over her flushed body for a kiss, “and I will.”

Feyre let him, forgetting for a moment what was going to happen. He tasted sweet after having his tongue in her body and his hands managed to take her top off before Feyre registered how he did it.

“You’re remarkably unobservant,” Rhys breathed, shifting his hips so the tip of his cock brushed against her wetness. “We’ll work on that.” Rhys slid himself inside her just an inch, though it was enough to draw a gasp from Feyre, fingers digging into his biceps.

“Breathe,” he ordered, eyes searching her face. “You’re doing so well, Feyre, darling.”

“I can’t—”

“You can,” he interrupted, pushing deeper. “You will.”

Even if she’d wanted to escape him, it was too late. Rhys made good on his threat from earlier, slipping deeper and deeper into her body until Feyre was certain she couldn’t take it. But he’d been right—by the time he bottomed out, she’d begun to adjust to the stretch it required to accommodate him, her discomfort turning to pleasure. 

“Look at you,” Rhys breathed, the tendons in his neck strained from keeping himself still inside her. “You take my cock so well.”

Rhys pulled out and thrust back in with the same brutality she’d come to associate with him. Feyre gasped, not out of pain, but desire. It felt good to be treated like she could handle something rough. Like she wasn’t fragile—like she was strong. 

Rhys kissed her again and she realized she was practically screaming her thoughts at him through the force. “You’re mine, and I’m yours,” Rhys breathed, nose nuzzling her own. “Those are our own tenants, the only code we live by now.”

Feyre met him thrust for thrust, kissing him rather than answering. She could feel the cold of the dark sliding through her, washing out the light that had once existed. With each new slide of Rhys’s cock, Feyre fell further and further into shadow. 

Where she belonged. 

“Take it,” Rhys moaned into her neck, teeth scraping sensitive skin. “Take all of it.”

As if she had a choice. Rhys gripped her hips, pulling her into him harder and faster, until all Feyre knew was the taste of the salt on his skin and the sound of his breathing in her ear. His hand found her throat again, pinning her beneath him as Rhys thrust over and over. His fingers squeezed just enough to leave her breathless without hurting her.

Feyre came again, surprised by the intensity of her orgasm. Her teeth sank into his shoulder to suppress the urge to scream again as Rhys moaned her name, whining ever so softly before slamming himself entirely into her body so he, too, could release himself.

He collapsed a moment later, face nuzzled into her neck. Sweat slicked down his back and over his forehead, making his golden skin glistening beneath the lights.

Rhys rolled over a few moments later, one powerful arm thrown over his eyes.

Feyre sat up, ignoring that she could feel the proof of his desire sliding out of her body. “What do these mean?”

Rhys glanced down at his tattoos inked over the top of his chest, arms, and shoulders. “Luck in battle,” he murmured, tracing one of the swirling lines with his finger. “According to the customs of my people.”

There was no point in asking if they worked. So instead, Feyre held his gaze as she said, “He locked me inside.”

Rhys leaned up on his elbows, hair half falling in his eyes. “I know. I know. Never again, Feyre. Never. Again.”

There was rage in his words—a promise that they would make themselves strong no matter the cost. Feyre wanted that. She wanted to be untouchable. Not a pet, not the delicate woman some man loved, but fierce. Strong.

Feared.

“Never again,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his as he brushed a kiss over her knuckles.

“Sleep, first,” Rhys murmured, opening his arm in invitation. “Then we train.”

“And then?”

Rhys offered her a sleepy smile as Feyre pressed her head to his chest. “Revenge.”

[hils79]

Hils Watches Tibetan Sea Flower - Ep 32

Well, I honestly have no idea what to expect from this episode. The main story has been wrapped up including an epilogue. What else is there left to do?

And people have been leaving cryptic comments on my last liveblog post so now I have no idea whether to be nervous or excited. Maybe a bit of both?

Okay, let's see what's occuring I guess...

Oh shit

It's been a while since I watched Sha Hai but doesn't that end with them visiting Pan Zi's grave. Ooh are we going to get what happens between the end of Sha Hai and the beginning of Reunion?

OH SHIT ARE WE DOING TEN YEARS LATER??? I'M NOT EMOTIONALLY PREPARED FOR THIS!

Fuck I'm crying already

Oh, god, they're planning for Yucun I can't

LOOK AT IT! I've written so many fics set here and I've never had a visual reference before. I'm so happy.

Am I just going to cry through this whole episode? They're going to retire together, and Xiaoge is going to join them when he gets out 😭😭

I understand why, for copyright reasons, they haven't used See You Again which is what they listen to in the novels. But I'm still a bit sad about it

YUCUN HAS MEMORY AIDING FLOWERS 😭

HE SAID THE THING 😭😭😭😭

Of course Pangzi immediately hugs him 😭😭😭😭

And now Wu Xie is hugging him too. They all love each other so much 😭😭😭😭

MY OT3 IS FINALLY BACK TOGETHER 😭😭😭😭

THEY'RE GOING HOME. TOGETHER. 😭😭😭😭

Oh my god is Pangzi singing his rap from Reunion while Wu Xie and Xiaoge nap in the back of the car? I love them.

Add chef to the list and that is basically what he does once they retire

Wait, are they moving to Yucun? Like right now?? No, no, no. My heart can't take this.

IT'S SO TRUE

I have written so many fics where the three of them tend to their veggie garden together and IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME 😭😭😭😭

Now I'm just thinking about the fic I wrote where Wu Xie wages war against the caterpillars that keep eating their lettuces 😂

Uh oh

Pangzi deserves all of the massages

I'M FINE 😭😭😭😭

Wow I never imagined that 4 years after I started my first DMBJ drama I would finally get the Yucun adaptation that my heart has yearned for

[idontego]

We Should Make Up | Kaji x Reader

Summary: This is kind of a part 2 to the break up headcannon i wrote. Kaji sees you entering a bar and can’t help but seek you out and try to make amends with you after your breakup.

A/n: This was so rushed bc i have somehwere to be so i will more than likely go back and make adjustments to this! Let me know what you think! ALSO TOMORROW’S EPISODE WE GET TO SEE OUR MAN AGAIN IM SOOOO EXCITED!!!!🤍

Warnings: breakups, alcohol, suggestive toxic relationship habits, co-dependency, swearing

It was out of the norm for you to go out, and by go out i mean bar hopping, drinking in public places with your friends or worse- strangers. It had been a few months since you and Kaji split up and as much as you didn’t want to, your friends finally convinced you to go out with them. You wanted to hurl at the idea of Kaji finding out about you going out and even worse, drinking on top of it. It was one thing that he would be upset over, strictly because he always felt the need to watch you and be with you out in public only to protect you and it was another thing, because he imagined how easily you could be taken advantage of if you were intoxicated. Just the thought of these things could easily set him off.

You entered the bar wearing a black mini dress with a corset top, squeezing your rib cage and extenuating your breasts and a regular pair of heels that were semi comfortable, nothing over the top. You didn’t know where this night would end but your friends were sure they’d help you make the most of it.

Meanwhile, Kaji sat in his room preparing to patrol and do his almost daily routine of also checking up on you from afar-watching. He was walking down the same street you were on and was concentrating on individuals around him-scanning the area for any threats, and that’s when he saw you. His eyes immediately widened and his jaw dropped almost to the floor as his lollipop hit the ground. He was shocked seeing you in such close proximity to him and you were wearing that?! And you were here?! But you looked so good, so tempting. His eyes examined your figure until he shook his head and ripped open another lollipop wrapper, tossing it in his mouth. His face of shock quickly turned into anger. He looked left, right, and left again to see if anyone he knew was about to see him enter the same building you were in. Kaji did not go out, ever. He didnt like the people, didnt like the setting, didnt like the idea of sweaty shit faced people rubbing up so close to each other, especially you.

His eyes met yours amongst the crowd- if looks could kill, he would be the embodiment of it. You’ve never seen him glare this hard before. Or at least not at you. “Oh shit.” You mumbled under your breath. You swiftly turned your head around in the opposite direction, which was a sad attempt at playing off seeing him-hoping he didn’t recognize you.

To only make matters worse, when you turned around, you bumped into a guy’s chest causing him to spill his drink. “I’m so sorry. Oh my gosh.” You apologized.

“No worries! I’ll just get another one. Why don’t you come with me to get something for yourself as well.” He said with a big grin on his face.

“Uh, sure!” You replied following him. Could this be your escape from Kaji’s glare? Did he lose you in the crowd by now?

You approached the bar and waited on your drinks when you heard a gruff voice behind you and their body heat against your back. “Hey!” Kaji said with the same glare on his face.

“She has a boyfriend ya’ know.” He proceeded

“Oh, really?” The guy questioned.

“She does.” Kaji confirms. Kaji already made his point very clear to this man and you and his stance and the look on face had ‘do not fuck with me’ written all over it.

You closed your eyes in an attempt to disappear but this was actually happening.

“I dont actually.” You blurted out. “In fact-“ Kaji cut you off grabbing your waist and leading you out side of the bar.

“What the hell are you doing her-“

“Did you really think finding some random drunk guy here would solve all of your problems? What were you thinking? Did he try to get with you?”

“Kaji, that’s not what i was hoping would happen. The girls wanted me to go out with them just for tonight because I’ve declined every other time because it still just didn’t feel right to do something like this even though we aren’t together. You know just as much as i do that i never liked going out or drinking.”

“This dress looks really good on you by the way. It’s a shame i never got to see you in it til’ now.” He said rolling his eyes and completely disregarding what you said.

You blushed at his compliment and your heart began to flutter again. Gosh.. why does he have to have this effect on you. “Kaji, we need to talk.” You said, looking at the ground.

He lifted up your chin, so you’d look him in the eyes for what he was about to say. “I agreeI just want to start off by saying that you don’t know how hard these past few months have been for me. Losing you was one of the hardest things for me. I didn’t know how to cope. My friends tried to help me, but i pushed them away. Everythin’ everyday made me think of you and i was completely consumed with the idea that you were gone for good. I was obsessed with the thought of why we ended things the way we did and I felt like i couldn’t protect you as much as I’d like which drove me even more crazy. I lashed out on anyone that we’d get in fights with-exceeding my limits and going over board because i wanted to make sure people like them never got a hold of you. There’s so much more but i-“

You cut him off with a kiss and your eyes were filled with tears. You had the most intense feeling of regret and sorrow for him and also the mourning of your relationship. You wanted him back. You needed him just as much as he needed you. You wanted to make things right. He rested his hands on either side of your waist and you kissed you back-matching your passion.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You pulled away from the kiss wiping your tears.

“It’s fine. missed you, y’ know?”

“I can’t ever lose you again. I knew we’d come back tho.” You managed to smile and even let out a giggle while saying.

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 164 spoilers and thoughts that are totally not late what are you talking about this is on time for sure <- writing the day that 165 drops

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JAVIER WAS THE ACTUAL MVP OF THIS WHOLE EPISODE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA HAHAHAHAH GOD I LOVE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH

THAT SIGNATURE SLIGHT SMIRK, THE MENACE IN HIS EYES. YES!!! SAVE UR MAN FROM GRIEF!!! GO KNIGHT BOY GO!!!!!!!

oh how he's grown, oh how he's learned from lloyd,,, truly using all the skills hes seen and putting them to the test. ITS SO FUNNY HOW EFFECTIVE THIS IS HAHAHAHAA THE EXPRESSIONS ARE SO SO GOOD THEYRE SO UNHINGED I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

back to the top!

lloyd trying to bargain and figure out loopholes only to realize there really is no other way besides losing it all over again makes my heart ACHE. OOOWWW. OWWWWWWWW.

just. watching that shutdown happen is so so so cruel why would u do this to me. the way the artist shows the energy and life just leaving his eyes and then subsequently showing how. tired he is. makes me so so emotional

it fucking HURTS. and by god ive been there before - certainly not to this extent ofc, but ive also been in tough spots where all the work ive done for my engineering projects ends up being,,, pointless. it is VERY real, how demoralizing that feels and lloyds reaction to that, and i cant imagine the scale of how that despair increases when its related to the work you did to simply just live in peace. god. ow. ow ow ow ueueueuuee

like he just essentially got told that it didnt matter how hard he fought to live, to survive, it doesn't matter that he's "lloyd" now; kim suho is destined for an ill-fate. and considering we know him as someone who lives almost entirely for others? it's basically "hey, all this stuff u did for other people to make urself not a burden, became a burden. tough luck!" GOD THATS SO. GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHH

and he's trying so hard to think of himself as lloyd frontera still but like. whats the point? his association with lloyd frontera became the thing that doomed him

this panel in particular is INSANEE AAGHGHGHHGGG the colors washed out, how limp he looks, the blankness of the background like nothings there. this is where lloyd is right now, hope ripped from him, this reflects that really well. it HURTS.

is dissociated the right word for this? in despair? either way he's emotionally and mentally going THROUGH it, and essentially back to isolation considering how he ignores javier

i also wonder now if lloyd has already made a choice, to let javier live? we dont get to see more of his thoughts beyond this point, so its hard to say whether or not he's already made the decision of which protagonist lives,,, god im so worried for him. a part of me suspects that maybe he already chose javier to live,,, IM SO SCARED,,,,

speaking of javier,,, we see him talking to arcos and marbella!! and AGGGHHH AAAHHH MY HEART i really really think that javier was being completely genuine here. i think he really believes this. javier in general has a tendency to be incredibly genuine in the things he says (examples i cant think of off the top of my head but this episode has a lot of em LOL). he's asserted multiple times that he believes lloyd can save their estate, and its clear he means it every time. the faith javier has in lloyd is so so strong and it makes me so fucking EMOTIONALLL im getting ahead of myself a little bit sorry

but then the stare that arcos gives to javier,,, i think silent was the one who mentioned it but its as if arcos isnt sure if he should believe him, and if u take into account the last time they asked about lloyd's status,,, it's very much possible that he doesnt believe javier, but javier has so much faith in lloyd that he leaves them alone anyway. god,,, gghh,,, mmy heart,,,,

AND JAVIER ASKING LLOYD TO WAIT FOR HIM AND THAT HE'LL HELP LLOYD GET BACK TO HIS FEET GOD GHGHGH HE LOVES HIM SO FUCKING MUCH GOD FUCK GOD DAMMIT YOU!!! YOU!!!!

lloyd doesnt even respond but javier doesnt need to wait for a response bc he'll do whatever it takes now to protect this noble he's come to care for and love and gone on so many adventures with GOD DAMMIT GOD DAMMIT FUCK

and now we reach the second half of the episode and it made me giggle SO FUCKING HARD HAHAHAHAHAHAA

LIKE I SAW THIS PANEL AND MY JAW DROPPED PLEASE JAVIER ALDKJFLSKJDF

ppl were posting that apparently someone in ORV does this too and like thats so fucking funny . if i had a nickel for every time there was identity fraud in a manhwa id have two nickels

POOR RAPHAEL GETTING CAUGHT IN THE FIRE TOO HAHAHAHA HE LOOKS SO NERVOUS

some more panels of javier harnessing all that unhinged lloyd energy IT'S SO SO GOOD. it feels like javier's now a really really strong prosecutor i think he'd do a good job as a lawyer. THIS IS SO SO FUN

LIKE HE LOOKS SO MENACING GOD ITS SO FUNNY AHHAHAHAHA while making entirely good points he's so golden i love u sm javier. yes save ur man. outargue the FUCK out of these angels u clever little knight.

THE BITS WHERE ITS REVEALED HE'S TRULY GENUINE TOO ARE SOOOO FUCKING GOOD

ITS FUNNY ON TOP OF BEING SO REAL OF JAVIER

i talked about it above but like. when javier really truly believes something, when he really truly wants something, it's so fucking obvious. this boy does not lie or pretend about how he feels, point blank period. hell we've seen his behavior when he lies/is not telling the truth; his words are stiff and out of character, and his expression is either menacingly tight or stiffly robotic. he has so, so SO much faith and such a deep desire to save lloyd, and it shows in how he's genuinely fucking thankful that the angels agreed to (or well, were coaxed into agreeing) with what he asked for. i think it's a really interesting character trait and it completely tracks that javier was the protagonist of knight of blood and iron. genuine, emotional characters who love and lose, who have hope and can believe and can also experience despair, can make for an extremely compelling story. javier nails it right on the head

i also think that this character trait completely influenced the way javier used the tactics that lloyd uses. like yes, this is something that lloyd could do, but he also would never be able to pull it off because he doesnt have that same protagonist heart and honest-to-god (pun intended) genuineness that javier has. this inherent authenticity that javier seems to just naturally possess is what allowed him to make these statements and demands, because the sincerity he wears on his sleeve makes it all end up feeling reasonable. only javier could have done something like this, and no one else. i think thats REALLY fun!!!

that is all for this ep for now,,, i am SUPER excited to see where this'll go. hopefully we will hear from alicia abt the eye of summer!!! god javier u clever lil thing im so glad he was able to do this SAVE UR BOYF!!! AAAAHHHH

see y'all next week! aka tmrw! today? whenever 165 drops!

[t0ast-ghost]

SEASON 2 TIME! Episode 1 and it’s… AMOK TIME!?! Oh boy:

- “Oh, Captain.” Yeah McCoy?

- McCoy is worried about Spock just like Chapel is worried about Spock

- The fucking nameplates, whatever they’re called that are stuck to the walls are hilarious

- He was having his period

- THEY ADDED DEFOREST KELLY TO THE OPENING CREDITS

- Does Spock have a knife behind his back??! Oh wait does Spock have an arcade machine in his room?

- OH MY GOD CHEKOV

- How can I even explain? It’s like he’s t posing or smt (mom I threw up kinda stance)

- The little fight between McCoy and Spock in the med bay, McCoy wants to know what’s wrong and Spock is not doing well

- CONVERSATION BETWEEN SULU AND CHEKOV HOLY COW

- “He’ll die. He’ll die, Jim.” Knowing that Spock needs to fuck during this episode makes it so much better, this really is how they decided to start the new season

- “The birds and the bees are not Vulcans, captain.”

- Spock pours his heart out to Kirk “I haven’t heard a word you’ve said.” WHAT KIRK? What?

- Chapel listening to Kirk and McCoy like “shut the fuck up and just kiss already.” She’s happy that Kirk decided to go to Vulcan tho

- SHE ENTERED SPOCKS ROOM WITHOUT HIM KNOWING???

- Their conversation is… strange

- “You’ve been most patient with my kinds of madness.”

- He can be accompanied by his closest friends. And he chooses Kirk and McCoy. My heart.

- “She is T’Pring, my wife.” Goddamn he’s been cheating on his wife with two men in space

- Imagine all the Vulcan’s could just hear Kirk and McCoy’s commentary

- What the fuck is happening.. they explained that she chose to make him fight… but what the fuck is happening

- “You think Spock can take him?” “I doubt it. Not in his present condition.” Brutal McCoy. Brutal.

- Those bells are annoying as shit

- When Spock talks to T’Pau he looks so small, could be the high angle and way he’s curled in on himself

- This montage is crazy.. and annoying. I really hate those bells

- “Jim don’t go and fight Spock.” “I’m gonna go and fight Spock.. out of friendship.”

- Babygirl your murderous rage filled look has captivated me

- BOOB WINDOW MOMENT! It’s just as beautiful as I thought it would be

- McCoy’s “SPOCK NO!” Is like. He doesn’t want his idiot boyfriends dead

- I cannot express emotion

- “He’s dead.” HES DEAD BUT ITS JIM MOMENT

- T’Pring is such a girlboss but holy crap that’s fucking ruthless

- OMG HES HAPPY OH MY GOD HEA SMILUNF OH MY I could watch this clip all day

- McCoy is so smart and we thank him everyday

- “When I found I killed my boyfriend, I lost any interest in my wife”

- To end it off we must have a bit of flirting. “In a pig’s eye.” Which according to google means ‘Expressing scornful disbelief at a statement’

Episode written by Theodore Sturgeon

Of fucking course it was him. See ya on the flip flop.

Masterpost

[kazumist]

EPISODE 17 ♡ WHAT LOVE DID TO ME

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 1463.

cw: drinking, alcohol, profanities, a pinch of violence (kuni punches someone and gets punched back oops?)

moving on was difficult for kunikuzushi. and he was doing well in taking the baby steps of the process. all he wanted was to drink, drink, and drink in hopes of forgetting you. but fate had other plans for him—because you were right there, with heizou of all fucking people. heizou, the guy who kunikuzushi got jealous of. heizou, the guy that kunikuzushi was worried about before.

heizou, the one who had unknowingly ticked kunikuzushi off already because he looked like him from a distance. 

kuni felt dizzy due to the lights, the loud music, and the smell of alcohol reeking around every corner (as well as the pain of seeing you with someone else). he hated it. but he had no choice but to sit back down at the table where his friends are currently and just decided to chug down the bottle of beer present at the table.

“calm down, kuni. we have all night!” lyney exclaims, taking a sip from his whiskey in hand.

“i don’t. i wanna leave already.” kuni says bitterly back at him.

“don’t be such a kj!” yanfei tells him, nudging him by the arm as she rolls her eyes at her friend. “that’s more of a kj, if you ask me," he replies again, pointing his head in your direction, where you and heizou are currently having your own fun in the conversation taking place. shock was an understatement for the group. “shit, are they…?” lyney couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

“most probably," kunikuzushi scoffs, pouring himself a drink.

“i’m sorry, kuni. but why does he kinda look like you?” lynette couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “oh no, heizou’s hair color is different. the lights just make it seem similar to kuni’s hair, but i have to agree, he does look like you from here," lyney tells her.

kazuha stayed quiet throughout the whole thing. he had witnessed kunikuzushi go through thick and thin for the person his friends were talking about. and he knew things would probably end up like this, but he didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

-

“literally who the fuck are all these people?” you asked.

“no idea, i just got invited here," heizou shrugs. watching everyone in view, you swore that he could see a familiar group amongst the crowd. you thought that your imagination was playing with you and that it would be near impossible for you to end up in the same bar of all places, but when you looked again, that’s when you finally realized it.

shit, kazuha’s here. you thought.

and where kazuha goes, kunikuzushi follows.

fucking shit.

you haven’t seen him. not yet, at least. but you prayed that you’d never bump into him. you wanted to give kunikuzushi space, but what are the fucking odds for you to end up at the same bar?

“oh! kazuha’s here," heizou says, his eyes now trailing your friend. that is, until you pull him away from the table and near the smoking area. “hey! where are we going? kazuha was there!” heizou whines.

“dumbass, have i mentioned that i’m literally in the same friend group as kuni, kazuha, yanfei, lynette and lyney?” you said to him, taking a deep breath to calm down. “no, but that doesn’t have to do anything with me. let’s go.” heizou whines at you again.

kunikuzushi was on the other side of the door. he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, and he just wanted some air since the smoking area is currently unoccupied. but he just can’t help it. he wonders if he should make his presence known or if he should just stay quiet and continue on let time pass in this smoking area. he chooses to do the latter.

“no, you don’t get it, heizou! that means he’s here too," you tried to explain. “who? ahh, kuni?” it took heizou a moment to realize what you were trying to tell him. “wait, shit. okay, shoo. go away. you can’t be seen with me.”

little did they know, kuni was already leaning by the door, listening intently to your conversation.

you, on the other hand, were determined to make things right with him. it took you long enough to realize that you can’t just let him get away from your reach and that you loved him more than you thought. and you’re not gonna let anything stop you from proving yourself to kunikuzushi again.

but you had no idea on what to do. you can’t be seen with heizou, obviously, so you decided to hide.

pushing the door to the smoking area, you found kunikuzushi there.

ah, shit.

kuni, who had just realized who opened the door, was shocked to see you there. “i.. i have to go—”

“kuni, wait—” the door gets slammed in front of your face.

but you weren’t gonna give up so easily. following kuni outside, it would be easy to spot him in the crowd. after all, your mind has memorized every single detail of kunikuzushi that there is to remember.

after a while of avoiding your other friends (for now), you finally spotted kuni. but he was with someone else, a girl to be exact. deja vu, you thought. “you’re cute; i kinda like you.” the girl giggles at him, clearly drunk by the way she’s currently trying to maintain her balance in front of kunikuzushi. “leave.” he says.

“what? nooo. i like you! you’re so handsome," she whines childishly, attaching herself to kuni.

“i told you to leave. i have an ex, you know, and they can hit pretty hard," he says coldly.

the girl left him immediately upon hearing that, not wanting to possibly get hit. 

you decided not to approach kuni yet, so you sat on top of one of the bar stools at the bartender’s table. however, some guy smoothly slid beside you and offered you a drink. “hey, i’ve been looking at you for a while now, and i think you look pretty nice," he says.

“i’m not interested.” you responded to him. “why? i’m rich, i look good, and i can take care of you.” he says, getting even closer. he was being persistent, and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. “i told you i’m not interested.” you tried pushing him away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“do you not know the word ‘no’?” kunikuzushi suddenly appears behind him, pulling him away from you by his collar. 

“the fuck is your problem?” the stranger asks. 

“they clearly said that they weren’t interested. so back off. weren’t you taught basic human manners? how disappointing.” kuni spat out, his eyes narrowing at the man.

“why the fuck do you even care? you think you’re all that? how about a fig—” before the stranger could even finish the word fight, kuni already threw him a punch. and it was strong enough to almost knock the other guy out on the ground. but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight, so he also lands a hit on kunikuzushi’s cheek. people were slowly starting to gather to see the commotion.

“kuni, enough! let’s just go.” you told him. you didn’t want this to grow into a bigger issue. upon hearing your voice, kuni lets go of the guy and lets him fall to the ground. kuni gave the guy one last kick to the shin before he left the area with you.

kunikuzushi leads you to the smoking area once again, and you don’t know if you were trembling out of anxiety or out of shock from what just happened. kuni had his head low, letting the adrenaline die out before he lifts his head up.

but you didn’t expect him to look at you with tears threatening to spill. “are you okay?” his voice breaks when he asked you that.

“i should be the one asking you that.”

“i am if you are," he says, forcing a smile—the same smile that he’d only ever give to you.

“don’t do that to yourself, kuni.” you reached for his hand but he flinched. he flinched.

“i… i wanted to ask you something," you say.

“okay.”

“are you tired? from me? from us?” it pained you to finally pop the question, but it had to be done.

he leans back, looking above for a moment before looking at you again. “i’m getting tired,” he says, letting out a weak chuckle. self pity. “i lost from the start anyway," he sniffles, still fighting back from letting the tears flow.

“but why did you still continue?”

“well, i wanted you to see.” kuni stands up. “see what?” you followed him. 

“what love did to me.” he said, opening the door.

“and just how much power you actually had over me," the door shuts.

extra notes.

it gets better in the next ep i swear

taglist (open): @yinyinggie @blue-b3rries @ryuryuryuyurboat @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @lilikags @haliyamori @diorlumx @mamafly @zuunotsane @iloveosamuu @featuredtofu @kana-de @xiaoderrrr @f1orent1ne @alhaitie @yelleloww @brain-r0tt @jamieexistss @danfelions @e0nssadrift @lovemari @kunikissr @chluuvr @lazy-sanns @lxkeeeee @swivy123 @sketcheeee @quacking-simp @tiredslepz @vxcmx @kichiy0shi @yingofthemoon @feiherp @sicut-sol @mayuumine @xiaosoneandonly @xtobefreex @bananasquash @im-the-ruler-here @hiraethhv @yumiaur @oughhhhmamamia @beriiov @cindywasneverhere @klanxii @fangygf @draclula @aromaticism @shotosjupiter @lyzisbitchingagain @lovelykrystal @riraaya @aether-darling @kochothehoe [1/2]

[trashogram]

Ugh the Exes and Ohs episode....>< I will forever be pissed about that and the portrayal of Crimson and Moxxie. I can let the whole Mafia background with Moxxie slide....just a touch, but it honestly could have been and should have been done better.

Crimson....UGH...I do not buy him as a Mafia Boss, not after that episode and how STUPID he was portrayed....don't even get me started on the later episode....

And Moxxie's mother she was done WORSE than him! She didn't even really get a face reveal or any actual lines!

I see Moxxie as this sort of...middle ground between both Blitz and Millie. In the sense that, Blitz has a sad past/upbringing whereas Millie has a relatively(from what we see anyway) good past/upbringing with regards to both of their families.

So now this leaves Moxxie right? Within what we saw of S1, he was the well adjusted of the 3 imps, there was this balance between them. So his backstory could have reflected that and honestly the Mafia life can actually work in this regard. That life as far as I've researched, is complicated, it isn't a complete this way or that way.

Crimson= He's the rough, tough and ruthless cutthroat mobster of an imp who knows what it takes to survive in Hell....but with regards to raising his son? His love isn't....part of that. He doesn't know how to separate what he should do as a parent vs what his job entitles him to be. That isn't to say he doesn't care for Moxxie, after all he's clearly taught him to be self sufficient with weaponry, how to defend himself and so forth...because it's clear he was trying to raise him with the Mafia life.

Moxxie's Mother= ....Still waiting on an official name. Now opposite end, she's the caring and sweet imp from Wrath, who fell for the sweet charm of her husband. She's the main love anchor for Moxxie, raising him to be more courtesy and not jump the gun so to speak, or not be as ruthless as his father wants him to be as. So she gets him into musicals and music, things like that, how to cook and so forth.

So Moxxie's parents are on two extreme ends and the result as Moxxie grows....is well...him being a balanced/well adjusted imp compared to both Blitz and Millie. He's not a violent hardcore beat down like Millie goes, but he's not a flagrant asshole like Blitz is.

Both of Moxxie's parents should have been alive, I will forever hate what they did with Moxxie's mother....because what we're shown of Moxxie, with him cooking, singing, liking musical theater and so forth.

....Yeah I'm not buying that Crimson was the one to introduce those things to him. No...sorry, that's not happening. It was Moxxie's mother that introduced those things to him, but we're never shown this...at all and it's hard to believe with how young Moxxie was, that Crimson wouldn't have been able to raise him to be like him.

You're gonna tell me within 2 decades(or near it given Crimson inducts his son into the Mafia and I'd assume Moxxie would be at least in his 20s at that point), that Moxxie DIDN'T turn out like his Father? No I'm not going to buy that he wouldn't have.

So yes, Moxxie's parents....both of them should be alive and it honestly should again contrast with Millie's parents and Blitz' parents. In that while Millie's parents seem to have a positive/good relationship(at least from what we garner) and Blitz parents seemed to have a horrible one(at least from how Cash treats his young son, so I can't imagine that they have a positive one).

So Moxxie's parents....their relationship isn't like a positive one, but it's not like a complete trashfire either. They love eachother, but it's not perfect(in comparison to say Mox and Millie, which shows that he's the balance of the two, able to maintain a good relationship compared to two extreme/opposite ends) because they fight about particular things.

I think this picture from LittleMissChi(HB Animation Lead) sums up their relationship...at least for me.

It's clear here, that they care for one another, but at the same time...this is just another repeat performance with Moxxie's Mom, having to patch up her husband and him just...brushing it off as if not big deal. So you could potentially see that while there is a relationship, it's not fullproof, it's complicated...it's grey.

Compared to again...Millie's parents and Blitz' parents.

Again this shows that Moxxie is the middle ground imp of I.M.P compared to the others.

.....Anyway I'm going to stop here, because I've realized I've done this long rambling, so apologies about that.

Here's TL;DR: Moxxie's parents were wasted(especially his mother) and so was his backstory.

You bring up a very good point — Crimson murders his wife when Moxxie is little, so how does he turn out the way he does? Do Viv and her crew think love for theatre, cooking and general prissiness are passed down through genetics and that’s enough to negate Moxxie’s mom’s influence or are they implying that Moxxie’s flamboyant interests and behavior are inherent to men who like other men? With Viv’s beliefs, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter >_>

[coniangray]

St5 teaser breakdown

(cus im bored) (spoilers, duh....i think)

All these clips are from the first 2 eps cus ofc they wont wanna spoil more that early into production. Like imagine if this felt too much of a sneak peak, the season is gonna be HUGE and this will feel like the 0.00001% of what it actually is lmao.

The school scenes:

i think first scenes, all from episode one.

The boys will catch a signal from the radio the night prior, paralleling s2e1

but this time either will lives with the wheelers or hes at the radio station and they contact from there.

the signal might be near a military base OR

its henrys signal that needs decoding excactly like the scoop troops did in st3.

So, the dynamics here are gonna be reminicent of both s2 and s3e2.

some quotes like "what are you doing on this channel again" and ''I cracked it", "cracked what?","I cracked the code" are also gonna make the cut. This scene will be paralelled with either mike or dustin, since these two were the brain of the party.

BONUS:

And what did robin also figure out in s4? Oh, wait-

I dont actually know what this code is, but i know it needs all four of them to solve it. And what if, in the background of the signal they catch up on little dream of me playing in the background?

The daisy song being broadcasted was accidental; the russians werent planning on including it there or they just did it as a distraction (they might have recorded the code within the crowd of the mall in brought daylight.) So what if the music, even if there is one at the background, is accidental too? After all, this song is mentioned as victors safe space because he called ella fitzgerald an angel, not henrys.

It all has to do with vecna at the end of the day, given how will touches his neck and feels him. This is an early sign of the symptoms, given how later, after school, they grow bigger and wider, giving will his first vision of the day:

And i dont even need to tell yall what this scene paralels lol

same table, but not same tree.

The code solving talk still continues here, because of how convenient it is to have will see the clock, zone out, walk towards it while the rest of the group talks about vecna and him capturing his victims in manipulative ways. In this scene they will bring up metaphors and allegories, just like they did with chrissy and eddie "do you ever feel like youre losing your mind?","i feel like im going crazy right now, doing a deal with the queen of hawkins high".

Also, like eddie said, this place promises safety because no o ne ever goes out there. SO, my bet is, mike chose they go there since eddie mustve told him right before he died.

bet hell say sth between the lines of "We have to go somewhere private. Somewhere no one can hear us." and thatll be most likely during lunch.

And thats where the bullies come in.

In order to continue their scenes out there, they mustve been interrupted by andy and jasons squad, and teased as to what they were doing with the radio on the table, given the leaks we got back in january or mike and dustin being followed by them.

no i have a feeling that during this arguement (after lunch and before the table scene), andy will attack mike and dustin and will will hopefully give a punch, paraleling el and angela in s4 and joyce in s3. This is my guess here, but i hope its true cus poor boy needs to throw hands with sb.

Spoiler alert it might not happen that day cus all of them are safe and sound without a scratch in the table woods scene.

After the woods scene, dustin visits eddied grave with his bike, which vandalized to the gods and guess who did it; thats right the bullies.

which will probably paralel maxs scene on billys grave

I wanna believe we get a heartfelt speech about his and mikes relationship with eddie, warming the ground for more eddie flashbacks to come. No, he wont get vecnad here, but rather found and beaten up by andi and the bullies, cus he was seen with a bruised face later on

and yes, the projector scene is also from the same day.

Another interesting thing to point out here is how the duffers said that our characters will start the season in action, so all the el scenes fighting vecna in the upside down and all the lights flickering, theyre all from the first 2 episodes.

After school and after the graveyard, with propably a few new scenes taking place in the middle, they all go to the new station set, and as it seems the byers are doing a presentation??

Probably from their experience in the uspide down, or most likely explaining sth about vecnas connection.

Orrr its a group thing, idk.

The thing is, dustin is beaten up standing next to steve. My bets are that hell notice dustin is hurt and make a huge deal about it, argue with the party on why he was found like that in the first place.

This would also be a chance to bring up the dynamics from the previous seasons and their flaws, aka dustin being with steve more time than he was with the party or others.

The thing is, in the same scene we see this;

M4tt showing n0ah how to choke.

Things most likely get heated in this scene, and that triggers wills connection with vecna. The mindflayer activates, and he becomes like billy.

And who else flayed choked sb else prior to this?

LETS GO BABY WE ROLL !!

Will will attack someone, most likely steve, cus he was also shown beaten up later in the teaser, especially in the car scene with nancy n johnathan.

Which leads us to this leak;

Its night, right outside the radio station. My guess is that steve tries to escape but part of him stays cus hell its will that attacks, that boy is harmless, right? While will is just there, chocking him and bagginf him to run.

Its the perfect lead up imo; first he feels the mf getting closer, then he has the vision and then he gets activated.

i feel like this is the cliffhanger between e1 and e2, since it would be perfect to have us waiting for steves safety and wills sanity for the next episode.

Bonus bonus;

Nancys Candy striper outfit

Going undercover in ep 1 was not on mybingo card, so im guessing shes an actual vollunteer at the hospital, because shed have to gain trust in order to sneak in and steal files.

but then again, why from tyhe hospital? all this place has ws maxs condition, which was already known to her and the rest of the team.

Involving her with such type of environment is simply to create more paraelels from the hmh scenes in s3.

Now, we also got this leak from april, and its most likely for ep4

the vollunteer is obviously nancy, but for her to return to that outfit, shell have to wear it again. So that means what i said, she became a vollunteer to gain trust and steal the proper files from the turnbows mansion thats connected to the lab.

Wills outfit also indicates its from a later episode.

As for the hopper scenes, idk a lot to break it down. And for el, this must be in ep 1 since this is unfinished bussiness from the piggyback if u nthink abt it

Thats it, hope you enjoyed my brain fart and i hope im right.