#almost hostile to each other i’d say

[padfootastic]

mom help it’s an ungodly time of night, i’ve to wake up in 5 hours, and i’ve somehow gotten onto the anti-prongsfoot but mwpp fan side of tumblr and i don’t know how to crawl out of this cursed hellhole 😭😭

[lilacmingi]

TOWARDS THE LIGHT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Sith!Seonghwa x Jedi!fem reader

Word count: 16,450

Note: So I didn’t think I’d ever write anything longer than Hongjoong’s D&D AU “A Quest For Love” but here we are lol so strap in because this is a big one

The sizzling sound of clashing lightsabers filled the air in the training room, blue and green beams of light swinging around and colliding with one another with a resounding spark.

Seonghwa's saber was swung towards you, which you blocked, pushing back with your own weapon and successfully deflecting his attack. He let out a huff, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth at the challenge. He always liked battling with you, though you bested him most of the time, he took it as a chance to improve.

The blue beam of light Seonghwa wielded was spun around in a showy manner as he lunged forward, raising the saber. Your eyes stayed trained on him as he approached with an aggressive attack, holding out your green lightsaber in preparation before swinging it at his and successfully knocking it from his hand.

Seonghwa grunted in mild agitation as he landed on the ground, having lost his footing when he landed. His arm shot out and brought the weapon back to his hand by using the Force. He was always good at that.

Getting to his feet, he wasted no time coming at you again, this time with a determined gleam in his eye. His burst of energy took you by surprise and you found yourself scrambling to do something before his blazing beam of light came swinging at you. With only a few seconds to react, your lightsaber came up to halt his attack, the beams making a sizzling sound when touching.

The weapons were pulled away from one another before clashing once more, and again, and again. Each time, neither of you were able to strike the other.

This was a familiar scene. Being in this gray training room with walls made of metal. You and Seonghwa had spent almost your whole lives training to be Jedi. You were Luke's only apprentices. You were the best of friends—inseparable some might say.

After continuing to block attacks, you saw a moment of opportunity and leapt into the air, attempting to use the Force to assist you in going high enough to jump right over Seonghwa. You just barely missed his head as you moved through the air, landing on the ground with a soft huff. Now standing just behind Seonghwa, you held the tip of your lightsaber to the back of his head, making him freeze.

"I win."

"Not bad." He commented with a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender before turning to face you. "That Force jump was a little rusty though."

"I thought I'd try something new." You shrugged, deactivating your weapon.

"You could still use some practice." He remarked, doing the same with his saber.

"I'm impressed." A voice full of wisdom spoke from one end of the training room.

You and Seonghwa turned your heads towards the utterance, finding Luke standing in the doorway with a fond expression on his face. He had been watching.

"Y/n, that's the first time I've seen you successfully execute a Force jump. You need a little more practice, but I think you'll have it down in no time."

"Thank you, Master Luke." You bowed at his praises, always honored to receive them from such a well-known Jedi.

"Seonghwa, you have this fire in your eyes when engaged in a fight. You've got determination, but your attacks were a little aggressive. When in battle it's good to be strong and vigorous, but you also need to be fluid and focused. Sometimes hostility isn't the best course of action."

Seonghwa nodded, taking in the information he was being given. He wanted to be a good Jedi, as good as Master Luke, and he would do anything to work towards that goal.

"I'll try and tone it down." He nodded, showing that he understood the critiques he was given.

"Good." Luke smoothed out his gray robes, giving the both of you a once over before speaking again. "You two had better go eat. I'm sure you're exhausted from training. You kids have been in here for hours."

With that, he exited the training room.

Glancing over at your battle partner, you could see his round coffee-colored eyes shine with interest at the mention of food—Seonghwa was always a big eater.

"Let's go." You linked arms with him, tugging him out of the room and into the corridor of the ship you often trained in.

Hurrying down the loading ramp of the spacecraft that was parked amongst the lush greenery, you and Seonghwa hastened across the base past other Resistance members, heading directly for the canteen which was really just a large tent set up for people to eat in.

Seonghwa pushed past the beige canvas flaps and entered the area where a handful of people were eating. His eyes locked on the bar situated at the back of the tent where a droid was busying itself by stacking clean bowls. Plopping down on two of the six vacant barstools, you and Seonghwa rested your elbows on the countertop, the droid rolling over to take your orders. A wooden board with a small selection of dishes carved into it hung from a structural beam above the bar. Seonghwa's index finger hovered in the air as he read over the items as if he hadn't done so the last thousand times you two had been in there. While he decided what he wanted, you waved the droid over and ordered a vitajuice and a warm stew, hoping for something filling after a strenuous practice battle.

"Me too." Seonghwa piped up before the droid rolled away, settling on getting the same as you.

"Copycat."

He snorted-slash-scoffed in response to your playful name-calling. "It sounded good when you ordered it. Also, a vitajuice is what I need right now after all that practice." As if to emphasize his words, he stretched out his back and jerked his head a bit, cracking his neck in the process.

"Sure." You responded with an eye roll.

The low murmur of patrons in the mess tent and the distant sound of clanking dishes in the back floated through the air, filling the comfortable silence between you and Seonghwa as you waited for your meals.

The bar droid rolled out from the kitchen area with two glasses clutched in each of its pincers, placing them in front of you and Seonghwa. After thanking the droid, it got back to work behind the counter stacking dishes, picking up right where it left off.

Taking the straw between your index finger and thumb, you took a sip of the refreshing juice, sighing in satisfaction as the cool liquid coated your mouth.

"Ahh. That hits the spot." You hummed.

"Sure does." Seonghwa agreed, sipping so hard on the straw that his cheeks sucked in.

You cackled in response to the ridiculous sight next to you.

"Easy there, bud. It's not going anywhere." You managed to speak through laughter, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

He pulled away with a drawn-out exhale, the drink having obviously refreshed him.

"I could've chugged the whole thing if I really wanted to."

"I don't doubt it."

Seonghwa's large eyes grew in size when a droid from the kitchen rounded the corner with two bowls of piping hot stew a few minutes later, his hungry gaze following the dishes until they were set down before you. Spoons were given to each of you and you wasted no time getting a sizable spoonful of the stew, Seonghwa following suit. Hums made in unison reverberated in both your throats when you took your first bites, the meal warming you from the inside.

"Is it just me or does food taste better after you've been practicing?" You asked.

"It definitely tastes better." Seonghwa nodded in agreement.

After a filling and satisfactory meal, you took a stroll around camp while your food settled. People bustled about, carrying equipment and crates across the way, some taking them into a nearby cave which doubled as a makeshift hangar for one of the many spaceships.

There was a nice breeze jostling the baby hairs that framed your face and fluttering the leaves of nearby trees. The gray fabric of your pants brushed against the tall grass that covered every inch of the area and beyond. Ajan Kloss, the jungle moon where the Resistance base resided, was where you and Seonghwa had been living your whole lives. You were both moved here as kids, probably no older than ten, by your resistance member parents and when your shared force-sensitivity was discovered by Luke, he started training you. It's all either of you had ever known. There were only fleeting glimpses of your old home planet.

A year later, you found yourself sitting on the Millennium Falcon with Seonghwa, seated on the curved bench of the holographic game table in the lounge area watching him play a round of dejarik with Chewbacca. The ship, piloted by Luke and his closest companion, Han Solo, was headed straight to the planet of Ilum to find kyber crystals for yours and Seonghwa's very own lightsabers. It was tradition for younglings to build their lightsaber before moving up to padawan status, but Luke was different. He had his own ways of training that contrasted from how it used to be before the Great Jedi Purge took place and wiped out almost all the Jedi. Thus why you and Seonghwa were just now getting lightsabers. To say you were excited was an understatement.

Chewbacca raised his furry arms up in victory, having beat Seonghwa in yet another round of dejarik.

"Man." Sighed your friend as he leaned back against the bench with a small smirk tugging up at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't feel bad." You gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Chewie has been playing this game for years. He's a dejarik pro. It's nearly impossible to beat him."

"One day." Seonghwa pointed at the undefeated Wookie who waved off his promise dismissively.

"Hey, kids." Han's approaching voice, followed by the man himself, grabbed your attention. "We're on autopilot right now, but we should be to Ilum soon." He then turned to Chewie. "I hope you're going easy on him." He nodded towards Seonghwa.

The Wookie shook his head before throwing his head back to laugh heartily. Han gave a small chuckle and a head shake of his own before leaning to rest against the nearest wall.

"So, lightsabers." He began.

"Yeah." You nodded with a grin. "I'm really excited. This is a special day."

"Very special." Seonghwa agreed. "It's the most significant day for us as padawans."

"Oh, yes." Han nodded. "I know all about it." He paused to look at the both of you. "Y'know, Luke is really proud of you both. I'm sure he's told you that in some way or another, but I figured I'd say something anyway."

You and Seonghwa shared a gentle look with one another, touched by Han's words.

"Alright, well," He cleared his throat and pushed off the wall he was leaned against, heading out of the room. "gotta get back to the cockpit. Chewie, try to let Seonghwa win a round, will ya?"

A year after you and Seonghwa crafted your lightsabers, Master Luke passed away. It was sudden and almost decisive, like Luke knew it was his time to go and so he went to be one with the Force. Things changed after that.

Your training came to a temporary halt and you were left without a Jedi Master. For a week you didn't leave your sleeping quarters. Meals were brought to you via Leia. Chewie even stopped by once. He was good company and his hugs were always healing in a way. You heard Seonghwa was about the same, staying cooped up in his room just like you.

After that first week, you tried to return to normal and Seonghwa started spending time in the training room swinging his lightsaber and screaming until his lungs burned. You only knew that because you saw him once when passing by. That was the only time you saw him, as he stayed locked in his room majority of the time, isolating himself.

A week and four days after Luke's passing, Seonghwa disappeared. You two were both so wrapped up in mourning that you kept to yourselves. Once your mind had cleared enough, you wanted to check on your friend and see how he was holding up. When the door to his sleeping quarters slid open, you were alarmed to find it completely bare. His bed was made and every piece of furniture was cleared off.

The color drained from your face and every part of your body went cold, your heart plummeting to your feet.

"No." You murmured, spinning around and rushing down the corridors of the ship, stopping at the training room only to find it empty.

Stumbling through the halls, you called out Seonghwa's name, the desperation and panic becoming more apparent in your tone.

"Y/n. What's wrong?"

Whirling around on your heel, you spotted Leia standing at the entrance hall of the spaceship.

"Seonghwa's gone." The words left your lips shakily, fading out weakly at the end. "His room is bare. Cleaned out."

Leia hurried over to take you in her arms just as your knees buckled. With Luke's passing still fresh, Seonghwa disappearing suddenly was like rubbing salt in a wound that hadn't even begun to heal.

"It's alright." Leia cooed, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head. "He could've needed some time alone... away from here."

"Why would he just leave without saying anything?"

"It's possible he's dealing with lots of emotions right now. Maybe he was overwhelmed."

The next words you uttered were muffled due to your face being buried in Leia's shoulder. "Do you think he'll come back?"

"He will. Just give him time."

You sat inside your sleeping quarters of a ship parked at the Resistance base, staring fondly at the lightsaber in your hands. Your fingertips glided reverently over the silvery metal of the hilt, admiring the intricate designs that were etched into them—a personal touch. Though you'd possessed the saber for three years, you still admired it.

"Y/n?"

At the sound of your name being called, you lifted your gaze to find General Leia standing in the doorway of your room.

"Come in."

She entered, a solemn expression etched on her aged yet elegant face as she moved to take a seat beside you on the bed.

"You look concerned." Shifting to face Leia, your brows pulled together. "What's wrong?"

"They're after us again."

"They? The First Order?"

She nodded. "They already destroyed our last base and now they're trying to find this one."

"What do we do? Do we move?"

Leia shook her head. "No. We're not giving up. Besides, they haven't found us yet."

"Then, why'd you come to me?"

She pressed her lips together and stood up, smoothing out her attire. "Let's walk."

You stood up immediately and followed her down the corridor of the ship and off the loading ramp.

Although you tried to be patient, you were itching to know why Leia had come to you with this urgent information. However, instead of forcing her to speak, you waited for her to do it on her own accord.

Your gaze moved to the ships parked about the area as you approached, your fingers fiddling anxiously with the hem of your gray tunic. Whatever it was she needed to say, it wasn't good.

"We need you, Y/n." She finally spoke. "You were trained by my brother and then by me for the last three years."

You blinked incredulously, wondering where she was going with this.

"We don't know what the First Order knows about our location or if they even know it at all. So I need you to sneak onto their ship and plant a listening device."

"You need me to do... what?"

"If we could listen in on what they're talking about, we could collect intel, find out what they know, and use it to our advantage."

"Leia I..." You trailed off, reeling from this being dropped on you so suddenly. "I'm sorry. I have to decline. I-I'm not ready."

"You are. You've been ready."

"There has to be someone else."

She came to a stop, turning to face you fully, her expression serious. "There isn't. You're our only hope."

You shook your head. "What if—"

"No." She stopped you. "No what if's. Y/n, if I didn't think you were capable, I wouldn't be sending you on this mission."

You hardly even ventured off Ajan Kloss. How were you expected to carry out this mission?

"I just..." Your mind was a swirling supercell storm of emotions.

There were so many things to consider, like your lack of expertise in other areas besides battle and having no experience in real missions.

"I can't fly a spaceship, let alone sneak into enemy territory with one. How would I even manage to get by their sensors? They'd pick me up in their airspace right away."

"I can do it." Poe piped up as he happened to be passing by. "I've got a First Order ship in the cave over there." He jerked a thumb somewhere behind him towards a cluster of rocks.

"How did you even get one of those?"

He shrugged in response. "Connections."

Just then, Finn passed by, giving you both a friendly smile and a small wave, oblivious to your conversation. You nodded knowingly in immediate understanding.

"Ah. I see."

"So, will you do it?" Leia asked you, bringing the focus back to the issue at hand.

Taking in a deep breath, you let the possible outcomes flicker in your mind like a slideshow. This could all go terribly wrong—or perhaps it could go incredibly well. Leia believed in you and being the only Jedi on the base, you felt obligated to help, not that you could ever say no anyway.

"Yes."

Walking down the familiar corridors of the ship you called home, you tried to process the fact that you'd be going on your first mission very soon. It was a heavy weight to bear and an even bigger responsibility. Lost in thought, you passed by a room that carried bitter emotions, your footsteps coming to a stop beside it without really thinking. Pressing a button, the door slid open and your eyes landed on the space that was untouched for three years.

Seonghwa's room.

Passing the threshold, you stepped inside and glanced around, your fingers caressing the comforter.

"I sure wish you were here right now." You sighed, speaking aloud to the memories of Seonghwa that remained stagnant in the space. "Could really use your help on this one."

A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it down, blinking back tears that started to prick your eyes. At first you were sad and confused about Seonghwa leaving all of a sudden—you still were. Then you got angry, feeling like he walked out on you. Now you were just numb.

"This should've been our mission, not mine."

Dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed, you let out another heavy sigh. Your fingers traced absentmindedly over the sleek nightstand, trailing across the handle of a drawer. Without thinking, you tugged on it, something jostling inside as you did so.

With furrowed brows, you peered into the drawer, your eyes slowly widening when you spotted Seonghwa's lightsaber lying inside. With a shaky hand, you reached in and took hold of the hilt, retrieving it from where it sat for three long years.

He left his lightsaber.

This only raised more questions. Did he just give up? Decide he didn't want to be a Jedi anymore since Luke passed?

An image of Seonghwa living on some run-down planet, isolated and alone, flashed in your mind and you hated it.

Shaking away those thoughts, you stood up, your friend's lightsaber in hand, and left. Seonghwa's abandoned weapon was placed on a shelf in your room for safe keeping in case he returned one day.

The following evening, you gathered in the meeting hall with other Resistance members where a plan was made for how you'd infiltrate the First Order's ship and where to plant listening devices. A layout of the enemy ship was projected into the air showing all the different areas.

"A meeting room would be ideal. As would the main control room of the ship. That is where talks between the generals and captains take place." C-3PO spoke in his posh robotic voice while R2-D2 beeped in response. "You could collect lots of intel there."

You nodded, taking it all in, determined to do your absolute best on this mission.

Staring down the entry point on the First Order ship, you clenched your hands at your sides, anxiety plaguing every inch of your body.

"You got this." Poe's voice came from the cockpit of the ship. "I'll be waiting here for you when you're done. You can communicate through your earpiece and I'll be keeping an eye on you through the tracking device inside of it."

"What if I mess up?"

"You won't. I'll tell you where to go."

"What if I get captured?"

"Then we're coming for you."

With that reassurance, you gave a nod and hopped off the spacecraft and into the hangar, sticking close to the wall. You came equipped with three listening devices to plant and your lightsaber which was strapped to your waist in its holster. Your vigilant eyes stayed trained on the stormtroopers marching about the hangar as you slinked along, sneaking behind large First Order spacecrafts parked about the area and using them for coverage until you got to the doors that led to the inside of the ship.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you waited for an opportunity to slip inside when no one was looking. Your hands trembled as you felt the slightest bit of relief that one hurdle had been conquered. Now it was time for the real mission—planting listening devices and not getting caught.

"Poe? I'm in." You whispered.

"Good. You're doing well." He responded through your earpiece. "Go straight and then take a left."

Taking in a deep breath, you proceeded down the empty and darkened corridor of the ship, peering around the corner before taking a turn. There was no time to waste, so you kept moving while waiting for more instructions.

"There you go. Keep going. The meeting room is on your right. Put a listening device under the table in there if the coast is clear."

"Is this it?" You asked once you arrived at a large set of dark gray doors.

"Yes."

Pressing your ear against the cool metal, you listened for voices on the other side, receiving silence in response. Your trembling finger pressed the button to open the doors, a breath of relief leaving your dry lips when you were greeted with the sight of an empty room. Digging out a listening device, you stuck it under the edge of the table, poking your head out to check the halls before swiftly moving out.

"I got it."

"Alright. Proceed down the hall."

Your feet moved quickly, your boots making little noise in the process.

With Poe's direction, you were able to successfully place the second device without issue.

As you fled the area, the sound of stormtroopers talking made you freeze up. Being on a First Order ship, the structure of it was unique with protruding pillars that made for the perfect hiding spot. That, paired with the dim lighting was ideal for your situation, making it easy for you to slip through the shadowy areas. As the voices got closer, you darted to hide yourself behind one of the blocky pillars that jutted out from the wall, pressing yourself against the chilly metal and hoping you wouldn't get caught. The beating of your racing heart thudding in your ears almost completely masked the footfalls of the stormtroopers, your hand hovering over your lightsaber as you watched the two pass by. Your eyes stayed locked on them, following the white-armored figures who didn't notice your presence.

The hand that lingered over your weapon dropped back to your side once the threat was gone and you were on your way.

One more listening device to place.

The intense anxiety you felt before the mission began was not nearly as bad as it was. Having been roaming the corridors of the spaceship for the last ten minutes or so, you managed to get used to the task you were carrying out. That being said, there was still the anxiety of everything going wrong, however, you tried to keep your hopes up.

"Y/n? You still there?"

"Yeah." You let out an exhale. "Stormtroopers passed by. I was hiding."

"Good call. Your last destination is the control room. That'll be difficult because it'll be full of ship staff I'm sure."

Poe could hear your sigh through the earpiece.

"Hey, you got this." He encouraged.

"I know."

"You don't sound very confident."

"I'm not." You murmured, peering around a corner before rounding it. "But I'm gonna pretend to be."

"There you go. Fake it 'til you make it."

A mix between a scoff and a chuckle left you.

"Control room is up the way. Keep an eye out though, there might be some unsavory individuals in there."

That made your heart jump with dread. Unsavory individuals?

"Like who?"

"Ones in higher ranks, like generals."

"I see."

You proceeded down the corridor, pressing yourself behind another metal pillar to hide from more approaching stormtroopers. As soon as they passed, you got back to the mission.

"The doorway should be directly ahead of you." Poe informed.

"I see it."

A few feet in front of you was an open doorway, multiple uniformed people sitting in front of large control panels. Holding your breath, you drew closer to the doorway, daring to peer inside. Standing at the forefront of the room in front of a massive window and more controls was a man in a black uniform, probably a general, discussing something with another crew member.

"Just stick the tracker in a corner or something. Don't stay too long." Poe's voice spoke into your ear.

With the last listening device in hand, you scanned your surroundings and took a step into the control room, spotting one of those structural pillars. The little device was placed into the junction between the wall and the column, unable to be spotted unless someone was really looking for it.

Back on the ship, Poe watched the red dot on his little handheld tracker screen as it moved along the halls of the First Order ship.

"You got it?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Nice work." He grinned. "I knew you could do it. Now get back here and let's split."

"Copy that."

His eyes stayed locked on the red dot traversing the map as he gave you directions. Every few feet, you'd stop, assumably to hide from passerby in the ship, before resuming.

"Almost there." He said.

You were approaching the hangar, only one turn down the hall and you'd be home free.

The dot stopped moving.

A gasp sounded from your end and Poe's heart sank.

"Y/n?"

"Well, well, well. What's this?" A male voice spoke, sounding close to you.

More panicked noises came through, getting quieter before Poe heard a distant "No!" from you before the feed got staticky, a crunch, and then silence.

"Y/n?" The panic in the pilot's voice rose. "Are you there? Do you copy?"

Nothing.

Poe looked out the windshield of the First Order ship he used to sneak in, peering down at the stormtroopers lingering about. Some of them had their hands held to the side of their helmets before turning to look directly at the spacecraft Poe was occupying.

"Blast!" He hissed through his teeth.

Not only had he lost contact with you, but it seems whoever caught you had notified everyone on board. He had no choice but to hightail it out of there, lest he get captured as well.

"Sorry, Y/n." He murmured, sitting upright in his seat and starting up the ship. "New plan."

The stormtroopers below started shooting at the spacecraft as it lifted off the floor, the hangar door beginning to close. Poe pushed the handles on the control panel forward and the ship plowed down the troopers close by.

"C'mon. C'mon." He spoke through clenched teeth, directing the spacecraft towards the exit, picking up speed.

The gap was slowly closing and it seemed Poe wasn't gonna make it. He winced as the top of the ship scraped against the closing hangar door, not doubt denting and scratching the exterior, as it slipped out into the open space.

A sigh of relief left the pilot as he made his escape, silently vowing to come back with a whole team of Resistance fighters to bring you home just as he promised.

You'd been listening to instructions from Poe, coming to a stop to peer around the corner when he told you to take a turn. That's when someone grabbed you from behind, making you gasp. You couldn't see who it was as you struggled in their grip.

"Y/n?" Poe asked.

"Well, well, well. What's this?" A male voice spoke, a gloved hand moving into your peripherals as your earpiece was pulled out and dropped to the floor.

"No!" You exclaimed.

You could barely hear Poe's panicked voice from the device as it fell, clattering to the metal flooring, your captor swiftly crushing it under his chunky black boot.

You writhed in his hold, somehow managing to slip out, stumbling forward and reaching for your lightsaber which you withdrew from its holster and activated it, the green beam humming as it extended from the hilt.

Your enemy, who donned an all-black outfit and a hood that concealed his face, activated his own saber, a blazing red beam lengthening at his side.

With hardly any time to react, you held your lightsaber up, blocking an aggressive attack from the Sith in front of you. Any anxiety you felt was numbed by your survival instincts and the desire to make it back home—if that was even an option anymore. For all you knew, Poe could've abandoned the mission for the sake of safety.

Clenching your teeth, you pushed back against the red beam with all the power you could muster, getting the Sith away just long enough to scramble backwards down the corridor. It didn't take long before he was back on you again, swinging left and right while you blocked and dodged his attempted attacks. Your back hit a door and your free hand felt for a button, pressing it. A hissing sound came from the hatch as the doors slid open and you staggered backwards inside. The area had electrical panels on the wall and was more spacious than the ship's corridor, giving you more room to fight and move around.

The Sith strode into the room with you and swiped at your side, which you barely evaded. In turn, you let out a grunt and swung your weapon at his chest, which he leaned back and avoided with ease.

Straightening his posture, he brandished his lightsaber in preparation, his boots thumping heavily against the floors as he approached. A shout left the hooded man as he swung at you, the saber making a resounding voosh as the blade was forced through the air.

Your eyes widened as his saber collided with yours harshly, the force behind the action making you stumble back slightly, your arms trembling as you tried to push back against it.

You weren't prepared for this.

All that training and you weren't prepared.

With a jerk of his lightsaber, The Sith knocked your weapon right out of your hand, causing it to deactivate and skid across the room.

The cloaked figure held his weapon above his head, spinning while thrusting the blade in your direction, the force of the showy action causing his hood to fly off just as you fell to the ground trying to back away.

"Ugh!" A grunt was forced out of your body as you collided with the floor, your eyes staring down the humming red beam pointed directly at your throat.

Your chest moved up and down rapidly with each shallow breath, looking up at your attacker with wide, horrified eyes as you realized his hood had flown off. Every limb in your body went cold, the blood draining from your face in an instant.

"Seonghwa?"

His hair was longer, reaching just above his shoulders, some of the long strands stuck to his forehead from the intense fight. His eyes, which you remembered being round and full of warmth, were now sharp and cold as ice. Your best friend had fallen victim to the Dark Side.

His eyes widened for just a millisecond at the sound of his name before narrowing, his gaze hardened and full of contempt as if just seeing you brought back unwanted memories.

"What did they do to you?" Your voice came out in a faint whisper of shock and horror.

"They didn't do anything to me."

His tone was harsh and calloused, no sign of the once upbeat and soft-spoken Seonghwa you knew three years ago.

The severity of the situation hit you and you began scrambling back away from the deadly red beam of light in your face, your arm reaching out to bring your own saber back to you. It slowly started rolling towards you only for Seonghwa to stretch an open hand out towards it, intercepting it and throwing the weapon across the room by an invisible force.

"You may have been a better fighter, but you always were a horrible user of the Force." He spat.

The doors to the room hissed and two stormtroopers walked in.

"Take her away." Seonghwa ordered sternly watching you with an unchanging and stoic expression as you were roughly tugged to your feet and dragged out of the room. "Detention cell 1117." He specified.

There were so many things you wanted to say, yet nothing came from your lips. All you could do was stare at Seonghwa with an expression full of confusion and hurt as you were hauled out of the room.

The cell you were placed in was nothing like you expected; it was clean and equipped with a small, but cushioned cot. The stormtroopers shoved you into the room, slamming the door shut, giving you one glance through the gated window before marching away.

You dropped down onto the cot, your trembling knees no longer able to support you, letting you collapse.

Seonghwa.

He didn't run away, he became a Sith. All these years worrying and wondering where he was, if he was okay, asking yourself why he left... and he was here.

How did this happen?

It was the question that kept spinning in your mind, echoing repeatedly.

How did this happen?

There was no way Seonghwa, your best friend, the man you secretly liked, had turned to the Dark Side. It didn't make sense. He never showed any desire to cross over, not that you could recall, anyway.

The dull ache in your heart grew in intensity the longer you thought about what your best friend had turned into.

The heavy thump of approaching footsteps made you lift your head, your eyes locking with those of the man you once knew. The door to your cell swung open and he stepped inside, his presence alone shifting the air in the room.

No words were exchanged at first. All you could do was stare at him, taking in the angry lines etched on his otherwise flawless face. His intense eyes stared you down, the scowl on his face not budging. This new version of Seonghwa was jarring to say the least, but he was still someone you used to know.

"So this is where you ran off to." You murmured.

He didn't speak, staring you down in silence. His lack of response was both perplexing and agitating. Did he have nothing to say?

You scoffed, shaking your head as a spark of anger ignited. "I can't believe you." Your expression was full of emotion, rage fueled by sadness and betrayal. It felt like you'd been punched directly in the heart.

Seeing Seonghwa again wasn't the joyous reunion you imagined it would be—it was much worse. Instead of embracing him in a tearful hug, you had been blocking his aggressive attacks and trying to make it out of the battle unscathed.

As Seonghwa stood just inside the cell, the emotions you felt rapidly turned into fiery anger that unfortunately reared it's ugly head.

"You got weak." You spoke through gritted teeth, your fists clenching.

In a fit of sudden rage, you stood up from the cot and charged at Seonghwa with a shout.

Your breath hitched when you felt a pressure around your throat, your wide eyes staring at the man you called your best friend with a gloved hand outstretched and fingers partially curled. A strained noise left your dry mouth as you clawed at your throat futilely, desperate to get rid of the invisible force that constricted your windpipe.

"You're the weak one." Seonghwa spoke, his voice low and threatening as his extended arm lifted higher, his gaze boring holes into you.

"Pl-please." You choked out, your legs kicking as your feet left the floor, black spots dotting your vision.

His hand squeezed more, curling in just another inch or so and applying more crushing pressure to your windpipe.

"Hwa." You whimpered, your voice nothing but a hoarse and whispered plea.

"Don't call me that." He hissed through clenched teeth. "That name died when Luke did. It's Mars now."

That's the last thing you heard before the black creeping in your peripherals took over.

"Do you ever feel like you have a weight to carry?" You asked Seonghwa, gazing up at the star-dotted galaxy above, seated in a cross-legged position on top of the Millennium Falcon. "Like a burden?"

"A burden?" Seonghwa echoed. "You mean like with glorious purpose?"

You sat there for a moment before shaking your head. "No. That's not it. That's someone else." You paused, reconsidering. "Though maybe it is glorious purpose in a way." You murmured mostly to yourself. "Being Luke's only two apprentices is a huge honor, especially since there aren't many Jedi being trained anymore, but do you ever feel you're expected to be this outstanding prodigy? Like you have all these expectations to live up to?"

Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully. "No. I see it more as a goal to reach."

"But do you think it's attainable? Don't you ever worry you won't be good enough?"

"Of course I worry. Everyone does, but I don't think Luke would've chosen us if he didn't think we were capable." Seonghwa turned to you, his hand sliding over to take hold of yours and give it a squeeze. His touch was warm and brought comfort to you almost immediately, chasing away your worries. "Let's switch to a brighter subject, like lightsabers."

You raised your brows, shooting Seonghwa an unimpressed look at his pun.

"That was completely unintentional."

"Whatever you say." You teased.

"Back on the subject, when do you think Luke will let us build our lightsabers?"

"When he thinks we've earned it, I guess."

"I hope it's soon."

You nodded in agreement, turning back to the stars above, your gaze drifting to look at the distant planets surrounding Ajan Kloss.

"You know, one day we're going to be real Jedi." Seonghwa's voice broke you from your daze.

"I know. Despite the lingering worries, I'm looking forward to the day when our training is complete."

"Can you imagine? The two of us going on missions together, tag-teaming the First Order, taking down the Sith." He held his hands out in front of him, holding an imaginary lightsaber as he mimicked its noises, swinging it left and right.

His little performance made you giggle, his laid back and silly personality always bringing a smile to your face.

"Then maybe I'd do one of these." He held his hand out towards the ground below, a small rock lifting from the grass as it was flung off into the night by an invisible force.

You chuckled amusedly. "Always trying to show off those abilities, huh?"

"No." He grinned softly. "But if you and I are ever in battle and someone gets too close to you, I won't hesitate to Force choke them."

His comment jarred you a bit and you shook your head. "We don't do that."

"I know... but I'd do anything to protect you."

A small noise left the back of your throat when your eyes cracked open, your mind fuzzy as you slowly came to. Your eyelids fluttered, blurred by tears which you blinked away, eyes adjusting to the dim holding cell you'd been tossed into earlier. Bringing a hand up, you wiped the small amount of wetness away from your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbow, wincing when you felt a soreness in your neck. Your hand moved down to your throat, gingerly touching the tender skin, hissing softly at the sensation that followed.

You swallowed back tears that threatened to well up, realizing just how much Seonghwa had changed. He physically hurt you.

Not once did it occur to you that Seonghwa had crossed over to the Dark Side. There wasn't an ounce of evil in him, so it was never a possibility. You just assumed he had given up being a Jedi and went off to another planet to live a life away from the Resistance. Luke's passing hurt both of you and you wouldn't have blamed Seonghwa if he refused to be taught by anyone else.

But that's not what happened.

The Dark Side got to him... or someone.

Seonghwa's eyes watched his superior intently as he paced about the control room, his cape billowing dramatically behind him.

"Why was she here?" The maroon-haired Sith hissed angrily. "How did a Jedi sneak in here?"

"The troopers told me she arrived with someone else on a First Order ship." Seonghwa responded, his hands resting behind his back.

"They have one of our ships?" He spoke through gritted teeth, jaw tightening.

"It appears so."

"Go talk to her. Ask her what she was doing here. Do whatever it takes to get the information if she refuses to talk."

"We have people for that." Seonghwa mentioned, feeling his gut twist uncomfortably at the thought of facing you again.

"I want you to interrogate her. Do you have a problem with that, Mars?"

"No."

"Then do as I say. Interrogate her."

"Yes, Hongjoong."

You sat upright when the door to your cell groaned open, your eyes landing on Seonghwa. Your body moved on its own, scooting back on the cot to put more distance between you both. Perhaps you subconsciously feared him a little now after what he did to you.

He noticed the way you cowered a bit, but his expression remained the same, unchanging and giving away no indications of how it made him feel.

"Why are you here?" He inquired firmly, his voice carrying authority.

His question was met with complete silence. This agitated him, his jaw ticking with annoyance. "Answer me."

"I won't." The words were uttered quietly.

"Why are you here?" He asked again.

You shook your head. "I won't tell you."

Seonghwa lifted his hand and you flinched, waiting for the pressure on your throat. Instead, he lowered his arm, dropping it at his side.

"I know the Resistance sent you." He almost spat the name out in distaste. "Why?"

"You know I'm not gonna tell you."

He let out a small growl, his top lip twitching.

"You're in no position to withhold information from me."

That sparked a bit of annoyance, your almost cowardly behavior changing as you sat up straighter on the cot. "Oh yeah? What about how you withheld information from me?"

Seonghwa's brow twitched at your harsh and sharply-spoken words.

"You didn't think to tell me you were considering running away?"

"Why would I have told you?" His eyes narrowed. "It wasn't your business."

"Because I'm your friend... or at least I was. If something was bothering you, you should've told me."

"Friend?" He scoffed. "You were teacher's pet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play dumb. You were Luke's favorite. He always praised your fighting style and nitpicked mine, said I was too showy and aggressive. Well, I found a place that accepted my fighting style—accepted me."

"Luke accepted you, Seonghwa."

"Don't call me that."

"It's your name."

"Not anymore."

There was a long and heavy silence that followed and it almost felt like, in that time, you were mourning the loss of a friend.

"She what?" General Leia stared wide eyed at Poe who'd just relayed to her that you had been captured.

"They got her."

Leia sighed, lowering her head.

"She planted all the devices though." He added. "So we can listen in and see what they're up to."

She nodded. "We need to start getting a rescue team together for Y/n as soon as possible. Until we're able to bring her back, we see what information we can get from the devices she planted. Pull up the audio." She gestured towards Han Solo, who stood beside her.

He messed with the control panel in front of him, pressing buttons until voices came through.

"What do you mean she won't talk?" An angry male voice questioned.

"She won't tell me why she's here." A second male voice spoke, this one deeper than the first. "She refused."

Leia's brows twitched as she and Han shared a look, both of them finding the voice familiar.

"I told you do whatever it takes to get her to talk." The first male continued, sounding more vexed than a few moments prior.

"I—"

"Does this Jedi girl mean something to you, Mars? Are you going soft?"

"No." The response was firm and clipped.

Han reached up to rub at his scruff contemplatively, his mouth downturned in a deep frown. "I know that voice."

Leia turned to him in silent question. She also recognized the voice but couldn't quite place it.

Han sighed, dropping his hand. "It's Seonghwa."

Three days passed, or what you assumed was days. It was hard to tell. Seonghwa continuously came back to question you, sometimes multiple times a day. You refused every time, not daring to give away any information. He often became irate at your refusal and stubbornness, but he never harmed you again.

Seonghwa stood on the opposite side of your small cell, arms crossed and thick brows tugged together, that same scowl on his face.

"You were sent here by the Resistance. Why?"

"You're the one giving them information on our base, aren't you?" You responded to his question with one of your own.

Being locked away, you had time to think. And now that you knew Seonghwa was a Sith and the First Order was working on finding the Resistance base, it only made sense that your old pal was helping and possibly feeding them information.

"No." He denied firmly, his reaction almost coming across as offended that you'd assume such a thing.

"What do you mean no?"

"I haven't told them anything." He hissed through gritted teeth.

That made you pause, whatever response you had prepared died in your throat the second that sentence left his mouth.

"Why?" Was the only word uttered.

"I'm asking the questions here. Why were you sent here? Did Leia send you?"

Your expression hardened, but Seonghwa saw right through it.

He scoffed. "I knew it."

A sharp puff of air expelled from your nostrils as you mentally cursed yourself for not denying it right away. Though there's no telling if he would've believed you or not, especially if he claimed to already know.

"Why did she send you? Why were you lurking the halls?"

"I won't tell you. I'm loyal to the Resistance and I won't do anything to put them in danger."

"Of course you won't." Scoffed Seonghwa again, your answer not surprising. "How loyal of you." His words were laced with venom and mockery as he spat them out.

It made an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach, wondering what lies they fed your friend to make him so full of loathing.

Every interrogation ended with Seonghwa storming out of your cell in a fit of rage, reporting back to Hongjoong with no new information and receiving a harsh verbal assault in return. It was a repetitive pattern and one the former Jedi was growing tired of.

"It's been a week." Hongjoong hissed out, pacing the control room. "And you still have no information for me."

"She refuses to speak."

"Perhaps she needs someone more forceful."

"No!" Seonghwa took a step towards Hongjoong to block him as he attempted to exit the room. He then cleared his throat before repeating in a more stern and confident manner, "No. I have it under control."

"If you had it under control you would've tortured her until she spilled. Then I wouldn't be waiting for intel. I'll interrogate her."

Seonghwa side stepped again. "I said I have it under control." He doubled down on his words.

Hongjoong's expression hardened, his intense gaze searching Seonghwa's face for what felt like an eternity before speaking.

"Three days. If you haven't given me any useful information by then, I'm stepping in."

"Yes, Hongjoong."

The following day, Seonghwa was back in your cell, staring at you with the same stony expression. "When will you give up?"

"Never."

"Tch." He scoffed at your never-ending defiance.

"Why do you keep grilling me?"

"Because you're the prisoner here and my superior wants to know why you were sneaking around the ship like a little womp rat."

Your features twitched in mild agitation at his slightly stinging words. "How do you feel knowing your buddies are trying to track down the location of our home?"

Seonghwa scowled and crossed his arms. "It's not our home."

"It is. You still have a place there, Seonghwa."

"Quit calling me that." He hissed out through gritted teeth.

The room grew quiet and you were left to sit in complete silence for a few moments until you spoke up again with another query.

"You know where the Resistance base is. Why haven't you told them?" You asked, knowing that if he relayed that information to his superiors, the First Order would've already attacked Ajan Kloss by now.

Seonghwa stiffened almost imperceptibly and you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't focused on his body language.

"That's not my business."

"Oh but it is. It's your former home, as you claim, so wether you're willing to accept it or not, you have ties to it. If you despise the Jedi so much why haven't you exposed us?" You questioned pointedly. "Why haven't you given away our whereabouts and watched our planet get destroyed?"

It was clear he was growing indignant, his sharp brows tugging closer together, forming eleven lines between them—a sign he was provoked by your words.

"I'll be back to question you again tomorrow. You'd better be ready to give me what I want or it won't end well for you, Y/n." There was an undertone of foreboding in his words as he turned on the heel of his boot and exited the cell, his black cape billowing behind him.

He paused just outside the room, his dark eyes turning to stare at you through the gated window for a moment before he walked away.

Seonghwa paced around his room, tugging frustratingly at his hair while having an internal battle with himself. Why? Why hadn't he told Hongjoong or anyone on the ship about the Resistance base when he'd been actively watching them follow leads and attempting to track down the group? He knows the location. Not only that, but he's had multiple opportunities to divulge that he knows who you are, yet he's kept his mouth shut. He could've easily said something, so why hadn't he?

His ambivalence on the matter was making his head ache. On one hand, he had grown to loathe the Resistance with every fiber of his being and would do anything to destroy them, but on the other... no.

Seonghwa shook his head, gripping at his hair out of agitation while dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Don't be weak." He gritted out.

There is no "on the other hand". He despised the Resistance. He didn't care about anyone there.

A ghostly giggle echoed in his mind, your giggle, one he remembered from the past. Along with it came a flash of you sitting across from him with a bright smile on your face, then a fleeting image of Master Luke.

Seonghwa gave an angry shout, standing up and withdrawing his lightsaber, activating the red beam that hummed when extended fully. His shoulders heaved up and down with each labored breath while his eyes scanned the empty bedroom.

His weapon lowered. No one was there. What was he trying to fight? His past?

The lightsaber was deactivated and Seonghwa slowly sat back down on his bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. His grip on the hilt of his saber tightened as his mind wandered back to you. He had to get information out of you or Hongjoong would step in and he didn't want that.

As soon as the revelation passed his conscious mind, Seonghwa froze. Why did he care wether or not Hongjoong interrogated you? He shook his head as if to push away any notions that he still cared for you. He didn't—did he?

"Why did you have to show up, huh?" Seonghwa asked pointedly the next day while trying to interrogate you once again. It was the first question he asked when he entered your prison cell.

"I'm sorry?"

"You've just made everything more complicated!" He spat, letting his emotions run rampant.

Perplexed, baffled, caught off guard—any one of those words or phrases could've described how you felt in that moment. What did he mean?

"I was doing just fine without you." He added, the harshness in his tone unwavering.

You recoiled at his words, murmuring, "I don't understand."

"Of course you wouldn't."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is your fault!" He pointed an accusatory finger at you.

Your wide eyes locked on the tip of his index finger that was directed at you.

"What's my fault? Seonghwa, I—"

He let out a raging shout that reverberated on the metal walls. "There you go again! Just stop!" He dropped his head, gripping handfuls of inky hair, letting out strained sounds through his teeth. His inner turmoil was showing through his aggressive responses and bouts of fury.

"Talk to me." Your gentle words reached Seonghwa's ears, striking him directly in the chest.

Instead of being snippy with your words, you toned it down, especially after witnessing his display of stress. It didn't matter if he was a Sith. That fact didn't erase any of the memories you shared together and you still thought of him as a friend—or at the very least, a friend that could be redeemed.

The kindness in your voice touched Seonghwa, but at the same time it was making things worse for him, leaving him torn between two opposing emotions.

"I left that life behind." He said, his head still buried in his hands. "Seeing you just... stirred things up."

Ever so slowly, you got up off the cot and took a few tentative steps towards him. He didn't realize you were approaching, too caught up in his own emotions. It was only when he felt your hand gently touch his shoulder that he flinched, raising his head.

"Why'd you leave? What happened?" You asked.

"I was upset." He sighed. "I tried to get my anger out by blowing off steam in the training room but that wasn't enough. So I stole a junky ship and took it out to a nearby planet just to get away from everything for a bit." His eyes showed just how much he was struggling as he spoke.

"Go on." You urged him. "I know you might not think so, but you're still my friend."

His eyes met yours, a flicker of warmth growing in his chest and giving him that little push to continue. "I was walking through a little town trying to clear my head when Hongjoong approached me."

"Who's Hongjoong?"

"My superior." He ran a hand through his long messy hair. "He knew right away that I was a Jedi. He took me into a nearby tavern and bought me a drink. We talked. I told him about Master Luke and how it was frustrating sometimes because I felt as if I wasn't enough. He was so... sympathetic. He made me feel important and told me he would be a better teacher than Luke and that I had untapped potential—that I had purpose Luke didn't see."

"He got to you while you were vulnerable." You stated, shaking your head. "He got into your head, Seonghwa."

"No." His brows creased, eyes narrowing as he responded in a stern manner, jerking away from your hand on his shoulder. "He didn't. When he took me in I was able to fight the way I wanted. I got stronger when Hongjoong trained me."

You shook your head. "He manipulated you."

"He didn't." Seonghwa denied firmly. "Because of him, I realized my purpose."

Your expression fell into one of pity and sorrow as you shook your head, realizing just how badly this Hongjoong guy had warped your old friend's way of thinking.

"I shouldn't expect you to understand." Seonghwa remarked bitterly. "You're a narrow-minded Jedi."

His words hurt, punching you directly in the chest. You really thought you were getting somewhere with him.

"This was a mistake." He grumbled, turning to leave. He let himself get too vulnerable.

"Seong—" The cell door slammed shut, making you wince. "...hwa."

Heaving a sigh, you slumped back against the wall in defeat. You almost caught a glimpse of the old Seonghwa. He was opening up, but he still believed Hongjoong was the good guy in this situation. The hold he had on Seonghwa was too strong and you needed to break it.

The Sith's footsteps were heavy, each thump from his boots echoing down the corridor while a violent storm of thoughts swirled around his head. You were so sweet and genuine, it almost reminded him of how things used to be. And that gentle touch of your hand on his shoulder sparked something.

You're getting weak. He could practically hear Hongjoong. Are you really going to let her get to you with all that mushy stuff?

"No."

Seems that way.

Seonghwa's jaw tightened as if this were all happening in real life.

"I said no."

You're still in love with her, Mars.

"I'm not."

He passed by a couple stormtroopers standing guard on that particular cell block, their heads following the Sith as he passed, muttering to himself.

"What are you looking at?" He snarled at the staring pair, his hand raising as a threat to use his Force abilities on them.

"Nothing." They shook their heads frantically.

"Thought so." He spat, continuing down the corridor.

That night was a sleepless one for Seonghwa. He tossed and turned for what was probably hours, unable to even doze off. Tossing back his black sheets, he swung his legs off the bed, letting out a forceful sigh. You really messed with his head... and his heart. He could still feel the way you laid your hand so gingerly upon his shoulder.

He got to his feet and shuffled over to a wooden chest at the foot of his bed, opening the lid and reaching inside, producing your lightsaber from it. After he had you taken away, he picked up the saber and had been keeping it in his bedroom, unable to hand it over to the seized weapons department for some reason. He gazed down almost wistfully at the silver hilt adorned with unique engravings. His thumb absentmindedly traced over the patterns engrained into the metal while his mind wandered back to a memory that had long been locked away.

"Place the energy core near the kyber crystal." Luke instructed, watching you and Seonghwa.

The components of your lightsabers were scattered along the work table as each of you focused on building your respective weapons, listening to each step you were given.

"Next is the focusing ring. Make sure it's calibrated just right or—"

"Or the kyber crysal will crack." You and Seonghwa finished in unison, chuckling in amusement at the situation.

"Yes, or your sabers could explode when you activate them." Luke added.

The pieces were put into place and you moved on to the next step, adding each component until the assembly was complete. Next came the cosmetic aspects of the process, the step that would give your lightsabers their unique appearances.

The both of you were taught how to customize your weapons with Luke by your side to assist when needed. This ritual of sorts meant a lot to you and Seonghwa, as it was a rite of passage, a symbol that you had grown as Jedi.

"I hope my lightsaber is blue." Seonghwa murmured once the assembly was complete, always having favored that color.

"There's only one way to find out." You placed your thumb on the power button of your saber and counted down before activating your respective weapons.

Just as Seonghwa had hoped, a blue beam extended from his hilt and his eyes went wide with excitement. He then turned to look at your humming blade that glowed a unique purple.

"Not many people have that color." He gaped.

Your round eyes stared at the stunning beam in awe, unable to believe that the weapon you wielded was yours.

Seonghwa felt the same, gaping at his own lightsaber, feeling it's weight and ogling at the shiny chrome silver metal of the hilt.

"I'm glad I got to do this with you." You turned and smiled fondly at Seonghwa, your eyes glimmering with unadulterated joy.

He returned that warm grin. "Me too."

A single tear dropped onto the handle of your lightsaber, stirring Seonghwa from his nostalgic daze. He blinked away some of the moisture in his eyes before wiping them, not realizing he had started crying.

He still cared for you.

He still loved you.

Today. Seonghwa had to get answers today or Hongjoong would step in and take matters into his own hands. He decided last night when he couldn't sleep that he didn't want that to happen and he would do whatever it took to get the necessary information out of you.

"How many days has it been?" You asked when you heard the door groan open, your back facing it.

"Ten." Seonghwa responded, standing just inside the room as he'd been doing since day one. "I'm asking again, why were you on the ship? Why were you sent here?"

You rolled over, your expression weary. "So we're back to this?"

Seonghwa didn't answer, his expression showing hardly any emotion. He was there with a task to complete.

"Tell me." He wasn't demanding or hateful, but there was a tinge of urgency in his tone.

You sat up, pushing back your hair with a sigh. "Can we just drop this for a second?"

He appeared unsure, but let out a reluctant exhale and moved across the small space to sit beside you on the bed. It was the first time he'd done so since you were locked away.

"I missed you, y'know." You didn't care if he believed you or not. You had to let him know.

His gaze lifted to meet yours, his eyes becoming round just like your memories recalled.

"It hurt me when you disappeared. I had just lost Master Luke and then I lost you not long after. It crushed me." Your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke. "I always wondered where you were. I worried about you. I lost sleep over you. I never once thought you'd turn to the Dark Side."

"Neither did I, but I fit well here."

"No you don't. That Hongjoong guy got to you while you were vulnerable and took advantage of your weak state. He got in your head and made you feel special. He doesn't care about you like he says he does."

"And how would you know?"

"Because he's a Sith and they're known for being conniving and manipulative."

Seonghwa became quiet, not fully believing your words about Hongjoong being disingenuous, but feeling as if he shouldn't carelessly disregard them either. Despite that, a sense of urgency to defend his superior rose up within him. "Hongjoong was there for me and picked me up when I was at my lowest."

"I could have done that. I would have done that if you hadn't left."

Seonghwa's jaw tightened as an uncomfortable ache became present in his chest. Perhaps guilt?

"I loved you, Seonghwa."

Those next words were a punch directly to the gut, the breath feeling like it was knocked out of him. You loved him? For how long?

He swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky. "Why did Leia send you here? To collect information? To spy?" Again, his tone wasn't demanding, but it was stern.

It hurt not having him respond to your admission, but instead of letting it get to you, you pushed aside your feelings and looked him in the eye. "I won't betray the Resistance. You can keep me here as long as you see fit, but I won't say a word."

It was obvious you didn't realize the magnitude of the situation, but Seonghwa remained somewhat calm, hoping a more gentle approach would coax it out of you.

"You don't trust me anymore?"

"No." Your response was swift. "I don't. You're the enemy now."

"But you said you still saw me as a friend."

"There's exceptions to that statement."

He was getting nowhere with you yet again. However, you did open up about how you felt when he ran away so perhaps there was hope.

"Fine." He stood up and left without another word, hoping to get more time to interrogate.

Hongjoong was discussing something with one of the navigators on the ship when Seonghwa approached. "Ah, Mars." He strode towards his apprentice. "I hope you have good news for me."

"I'm getting through to her."

The redhead's expression fell into one of disappointment and annoyance. "So you haven't got any information out of her?"

"I'm trying to. I've taken a different approach and she's coming around."

"But you still haven't got any information out of her." He stated factually.

"No, not yet. I just need one more d—"

Hongjoong's jaw tightened and he held his hand up, Seonghwa's breath hitching as he was forced aside, the invisible pressure around his throat increasing.

"Three days, I said."

"I... know." Seonghwa choked out.

"I gave you three days and you still have absolutely nothing. You're useless, Mars." He spat out.

Seonghwa gasped for air, his booted feet slipping along the flooring while he was being held slightly off the ground.

Hongjoong released his invisible grip on Seonghwa who fell to his knees, leaned over his hands which were planted on the floor as he took in ragged breaths.

Looking around, he saw some of the control room staff turned in their seats staring at him as he lie crumpled and weak on the floor. Meanwhile, Hongjoong was talking to a stormtrooper as if he hadn't Force strangled his apprentice. In that moment, as he was struggling to bring air back into his lungs he realized you were right. Hongjoong didn't care about him.

You're useless, Mars. The words echoed in his mind on repeat.

"Take me to her cell." Hongjoong's voice reached Seonghwa's ears, causing him to lift his head. "If you want things to get done you have to do them yourself." He complained to the trooper, taking a glance back at Seonghwa with a demeaning expression.

"Wait!" He coughed.

The maroon-haired Sith paused and turned to look down at Seonghwa who was just managing to get to his feet.

"You said three days. The day isn't over yet." He spoke hoarsely, but kept a steady tone so as not to give away how his lungs burned.

"Alright. I want results by the end of the day."

The door to your cell opened up and to your surprise, it was Seonghwa again. He sometimes showed up multiple times a day to interrogate you, but never this quickly. It had only been about ten minutes since he left.

He was rubbing at his throat with a gloved hand, his eyes looking frantic.

Something was wrong.

"Seonghwa?"

"Look, I need you to give me a reason as to why you were sent." There was that sense of urgency in his tone again, more obvious than earlier. And he didn't even snap at you for calling him by his real name.

"What happened?"

"Things won't be good for you if you don't cooperate." He ignored your question and you noticed how scratchy his voice sounded.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"He hurt you."

Seonghwa stiffened and you knew your assumption was correct.

"You have to tell me, Y/n." His gaze turned serious and the desperation in his tone rose. "If you don't..." He hesitated to continue, but did so anyway. "Hongjoong is going to interrogate you instead and he won't be gentle or kind."

You'd known Seonghwa since you were kids and could tell when he was worried, but this wasn't worry—this was fear. All this time you'd refused to speak and all it took for you to crack was for Seonghwa to be in distress.

"I was planting listening devices." You caved, spilling almost immediately.

"Where?"

"In the West corridor near the hangar, in a meeting room, and in the control room where the ship is piloted."

His eyes met yours, turmoil and concern swirling around his brown irises. "I'm sorry it had to be like this."

And that was the last thing he said before turning away and leaving.

"I have news." Seonghwa announced, entering the control room.

Hongjoong turned towards him, an expectant look on his face.

"She cracked."

"It's about time."

"The Resistance base is on Takodana."

"Takodana?" Hongjoong repeated, raising a brow. "She told you that?"

"Yes."

"It's not the information I asked for."

"But it's helpful to us. It's what we've been working towards for weeks." Seonghwa mentioned.

"That's true." Hongjoong gazed out at the vast galaxy.

"Who cares why she was on the ship? We have their location."

Hongjoong nodded, murmuring, "Takodana, huh? Why didn't I think of that? It's a forest planet; the perfect place to go off the grid."

"Exactly."

Hongjoong snapped his fingers, beckoning the First Order's battle coordinator over. "I want you to send a fleet to Takadona right away." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." The man nodded before marching off.

Hongjoong passed Seonghwa, stopping long enough to say, "Maybe you can be useful after all."

His watchful eyes followed the redhead until he left the room before he made any moves of his own, exiting the control area and heading directly for the meeting room.

There was only one room on the ship used for meetings and Seonghwa knew exactly where it was.

Slipping into the empty meeting room, he surveyed the area, checking in crevices and corners before peeking underneath the large circular table in the middle of the area. Sure enough, there was a small device no bigger than the tip of his finger under the edge of the table. Stepping away, he began pacing around, mulling over the gravity of what he was about to do. Taking in a deep breath, Seonghwa prepared himself for what he was about to say, knowing it would change everything.

"I don't know who's listening to this but I need your help. It's me..." He hesitated. "Seonghwa. I don't have time to explain everything but I've just told my superior the Resistance base is on Takodana. They're sending a fleet of troopers that way immediately. Reinforcements here will be low. I need you guys to come and get Y/n out of here." He paused before adding. "Get us out of here. I'm ready to come home."

With a call for help sent out and no time to waste, he could only hope someone was listening as he left the room and put his plan into motion.

He didn't greet you or say a single word when he stepped back into your cell, grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back.

"Come here."

You yelped as you were jerked to your feet.

"Seonghwa? What's going on?" You panicked, wiggling in his hold.

"Be quiet." He hissed, shoving you out the door and down the cell block corridor, stormtroopers watching as he passed.

One of them blocked the way. "What are you doing with her?"

"We've obtained the information we need. She's of no use to us anymore." He responded coldly to the trooper's inquiry.

Every part of your body ran cold upon hearing that and you started writhing even more.

"No! No! Please don't do this!" You cried out.

"I said be quiet!" Seonghwa jerked you harshly before pushing you down the halls once more.

Your breathing was erratic, your hands cold and clammy. Were you really going to die by the hands of your old friend?

Not a single word was spoken while you were guided through the maze that was the First Order ship, awaiting your demise. You were brought to a room and shoved inside, Seonghwa releasing your wrists and caging you against the wall before you could even process it.

"You don't know what you're doing." You spoke shakily. "Please don't kill me. I—"

Seonghwa's lips pressed firmly against yours, effectively cutting off your sentence. A small noise left the back of your throat, your hands pressing against his chest as you fought to keep your eyes from fluttering shut.

He pulled away shortly with a heavy exhale and half-lidded eyes that gazed at you with longing.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Your heart leapt into your throat as he verbally returned your feelings.

"You're... you're not gonna kill me?"

"What? No." He shook his head. "That was just so I didn't raise any suspicions. We're getting out of here."

"We are?" You uttered so quietly you barely heard yourself.

"Yes. This isn't the life for me, Y/n. I miss the Resistance. I miss you. Maybe I was a weak Sith—or maybe my love for you was stronger than the hold of the Dark Side."

"Seonghwa." Taking the sides of his face, you pulled him to your lips, kissing him deeply, this time letting your eyelids slide shut while relishing in the warmth of his mouth.

When you pulled away, he had to blink himself out of the little daze he was in.

"Wow."

"We'd better get out of here alive." You said.

"We will. Just play along."

You nodded. "Got it."

He took your wrists and held them behind your back again to keep up the facade and led you out of the room, back into the ship's corridor. He didn't know how quickly a rescue team could get out there, but if no one had arrived by the time he made it to the hangar, Seonghwa would hijack a ship and get you both out himself.

Your eyes scanned the halls, attempting to look pitiful and helpless when passing stormtroopers or staff. On the inside, however, you were elated that Seonghwa returned your feelings and decided to return to Ajan Kloss with you. Though there was the lingering anxiety of needing to get out safely first. You were still in enemy territory—you both were.

The two of you rounded a corner, nearly running into a man with maroon hair that you didn't recognize, you and Seonghwa taking a few steps back. There was an intimidating  aura about the stranger that made you nervous just by looking at him. His eyes narrowed and he turned to your partner.

"This is the Jedi that snuck onto the ship. Why is she out of her cell, Mars? I didn't approve of this."

"We've got the information we need. I'm disposing of her."

You assumed this was the Hongjoong guy you'd been told about and was quick to lower your gaze to the floor, trying to appear non-threatening.

"And why would you dispose of her?"

As they exchanged words, Seonghwa could tell he wouldn't be able to pull this one off. Hongjoong was asking too many questions and wondering why Seonghwa was making decisions on his own without consulting him first.

You too were feeling as if things were about to go south and began worrying about how to defend yourself. It was at that moment you felt something cool being pressed into your palm that was behind your back. Your fingers curled around the object and realized it was a lightsaber—your lightsaber.

"What's really going on here?" Hongjoong inquired. "You've been odd since this little Jedi showed up." He regarded you with a curt jerk of his head, not bothering to look your way.

"I already told you, I'm disposing of her."

"See..." Hongjoong's hand imperceptibly inched towards his lightsaber at his hip. "I just don't think I believe you."

Your eyes widened and you were quick to reveal your lightsaber, activating the purple beam that hummed to life just as Hongjoong withdrew his own weapon. Seonghwa was holding out his lightsaber as well, ready to fight by your side.

"Ah." Sardonic amusement flickered across Hongjoong's features at the sight of his apprentice. "I see. You've switched sides."

Seonghwa's expression hardened and he pointed the end of his red lightsaber at the man. "I'm not afraid to fight you."

"Well you should be." Hongjoong spoke roughly before stepping forward and taking a swipe at both of you.

Leaping back, you two dodged his attack, retaliating with some of your own, both of you swinging your weapons at the Sith who was able to block every single one. You attempted to take a jab at him, but his red beam came up underneath your purple one and pushed it away, making you stumble at the physical force behind the action. He twisted his upper body and held his saber up to block an attack from Seonghwa that followed after yours.

It was clear this man was well-trained and even though he was outnumbered, he was managing to fight both you and Seonghwa without much of a struggle. Taking a step back to put some space between you and the enemy, you continued fighting back.

As soon as he saw an opening, Seonghwa took hold of your wrist. "Come on." He hissed urgently and tugged you down the ship's dim corridors in the opposite direction, fleeing the area.

"You're running away like a coward, Mars!" Hongjoong shouted after him.

"Where are we going?" You asked, pushing past a stormtrooper that stood in the way.

"Get them!" Hongjoong roared in the distance.

"Somewhere away from him." Seonghwa responded, keeping a tight hold on your wrist while guiding you through the steel and metal maze.

While your first priority was to survive, questions started piling up. Questions like: Would you survive? Would you even make it off the ship? Would you ever get back home?

"Here." You were snapped out of your daze by Seonghwa's voice as you were pulled into an open space, a grated walkway stretching across an endless canyon.

Unable to see the bottom of the foggy abyss below, your heart rate spiked.

"Hey, it's alright. Just stay close." Seonghwa gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, hurrying across the bridge. "We can still make it to the hangar from here."

"There you are."

You both froze at the sound of Hongjoong's voice, spinning around to face him as he approached with an intense and almost psychotic look in his sharp eyes.

"Stay back." Seonghwa was quick to push you behind him and rush forward to engage in battle with his ex mentor. You leaned against the railing of the grated walkway, looking on with wide eyes.

Seonghwa let out a grunt when Hongjoong's saber clashed with his, pushing against it. With clenched teeth and trembling hands, he shoved back and managed to get Hongjoong off of him. The Sith let out a low sound of disproval and swung once more, relentlessly attacking Seonghwa and giving him no time to fight back. All he could do was block and guard himself from the onslaught. You couldn't stand watching the battle persist without you. There was no telling how long Seonghwa could maintain his defenses until he was worn out. With no one to watch his back or help take the pressure off, you feared he wouldn't make it out of the fight unscathed.

"What happened? You used to beat me all the time during our practice battles." Hongjoong talked down to Seonghwa in a derisive tone.

The ex Sith let out a low noise from the back of his throat while taking a swing at the redhead who merely leaned back to avoid the humming beam of light.

"You're weakened already." He remarked snidely. "Do you really want to go back to being a spineless Jedi?"

Instead of responding, Seonghwa narrowed his eyes and took another swing at Hongjoong only for him to dodge again.

"You belong here."

"I don't!" He snapped. "I never did."

"I took you in."

"You took advantage of me!"

"And you became a powerful Sith because of it. So you should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" Scoffed Seonghwa. "For what? Turning me into an evil monster?"

Hongjoong let out a huff of amusement. "For showing you your true potential, Mars. So tell me, are you with me or against me?"

"My name is Seonghwa." He grit out through his teeth.

"Very well. Chitchat is over." Hongjoong used his foot to kick Seonghwa back, his body colliding with the steel flooring of the bridge. A grunt was forced out of him, his deactivated lightsaber now lying by Hongjoong's foot.

"You don't need this anymore." He said, kicking the weapon off the side of the walkway and into the abyss below.

"No. Stop!" You shouted, rushing towards the two, unable to stand by any longer. You didn't care if Seonghwa told you to stay back, he needed your help.

Hongjoong held up his free hand, a powerful force pushing you back so vigorously you were sent through the air. You yelped, landing roughly on the grates as your lightsaber skidded across the platform. The breath was knocked out of you during impact, your throat and lungs attempting to work correctly again while you gasped for air.

"This is what happens when you betray me, Mars." Hongjoong spoke in an eery singsong voice.

Your eyes widened as he moved to stand over Seonghwa, lightsaber positioned and ready to strike. A sudden burst of energy and determination hit you as well as a wave of burning hatred towards the maroon-haired Sith, fueling your need to protect Seonghwa.

Your hand shot out towards your deactivated weapon, wheezing and coughing as you focused your energy. The saber shot from its position at the edge of the bridge and straight into your palm. Gripping the hilt of the lightsaber, you got to your feet and rushed over.

"This is the end for you." Hongjoong reared back and went to swing his glowing blade down on Seonghwa. As he did so, your purple beam was thrust forward, blocking his before it could even get close to doing any damage.

"What?" Hongjoong hissed out, his eyes drifting up to meet yours that burned with rage.

"I don't think so." You spoke lowly, pushing upwards and using your lightsaber to shove his away.

Seonghwa stared up at you in both shock and awe, using the opportunity to scramble back out of the crossfire as you went after Hongjoong with vigor.

"Do. Not. Come. Near. Him." You spat out between attacks, punctuating your words with each clash of your blades.

"Oh. Well, this is certainly interesting." Hongjoong chuckled over the sounds of battle.

Your lightsabers made that familiar electric sound as they collided, swinging in every direction possible. Any time you saw an opening, you went for it, even if Hongjoong blocked. There was no pattern to your attacks, just endless swipes and vicious swings.

"You took him away from me!" You raged, slinging your lightsaber at him while he struggled to fight back. "Three years!"

He stumbled while trying to back away, blocking your relentless hits.

A flicker of panic flashed across Hongjoong's face as you continued to shout at him and deliver swing after swing. Up until that point, he had defended himself and didn't show an ounce of fear. Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to go into a blind rage, but seeing him preparing to end Seonghwa's life kicked you into gear.

Your saber came at him from the side, which he deflected, but you didn't care, redirecting and taking a different approach. He hissed when you managed to swipe at his arm, tearing the fabric of his sleeve and slicing his skin underneath.

"Look at you trying to defend your boyfriend. Such mindless violence. You would've made a good Sith." Hongjoong grunted out while trying to provoke you despite the fact that you clearly had the upper hand.

"Shut up." You grit out, slinging the purple beam you wielded at his leg, causing him to yelp in pain, pressing his free hand to his calf where the fresh cut was.

"I'm impressed." He panted heavily, looking up at you. "You're putting up quite the fight."

He tightened his hold on his lightsaber as your eyes narrowed. The humming beam in his grip came barreling towards you, making you jump back. He gave you no time to retaliate, coming at you again. At the last second, you held your hand out, fingers outstretched as his weapon came to a stop in midair just a few inches from you. The heat radiating from the blazing light brushed your palm, but it wasn't enough to deter you. Hongjoong's cocky expression fell, his eyes darting between you and your hand which was keeping his lightsaber in place. He pushed down, trying to complete his action, his brows pulling together at the effort and exertion. Your hardened gaze stayed locked on the Sith as you moved your open hand forward, forcing the beam further away until you pushed it aside. He stumbled back, releasing a low guttural sound from the back of his throat.

"Not bad... for a Jedi."

Your jaw tightened at his backhanded comment. "You talk too much."

Blinded by anger, your free hand shot out, using the Force to launch him backwards across the bridge and all the way into the halls of the ship where he landed harshly against a wall. He winced upon impact, sliding down and crumpling on the floor in a heap.

The adrenaline coursing through you slowly started to wear off, your shoulders heaving up and down with each breath.

"I thought Jedi didn't Force choke?" Seonghwa asked amusedly from behind you while getting to his feet, referring back to something you said to him years ago.

"That was a Force push. There's a difference." You remarked with a small grin, deactivating your lightsaber and sliding it into its holster.

"That was... kinda hot."

You turned to him as he came to stand by your side, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. "Was it?"

"It was." He confirmed, taking your hand. "Now let's get out of here."

The both of you hurried across the grated walkway and past Hongjoong's unconscious form, heading back the way you came, your footsteps thumping against the metal floors.

"Hongjoong ordered a fleet of ships to Takodana." Seonghwa mentioned while you moved down the halls. "There won't be as many reinforcements here, so we should be able to make it to the hangar without too much trouble."

"Takodana?" You echoed confusedly.

"I told him that's where the Resistance base was."

A fluttery feeling blossomed in your chest. He lied to his mentor to protect the Resistance members.

"Thank you."

He gave you a small smile, squeezing your hand. "You're welcome."

After turning a corner, you were met with a cluster of stormtroopers that jumped into action and began blasting at both of you the moment you were spotted.

Seonghwa grabbed you, tugging you around the corner and out of the line of fire.

"Well, this is a problem." You breathed out heavily. "We're outnumbered and you don't have a weapon."

"Yeah. Though we might be able to make it if we make a run for it and do our best to dodge. Their aim is horrible anyway."

"Not if we're close enough to shoot." You pointed out.

While you and Seonghwa were strategizing, the thud of something heavy falling to the floor came from where the stormtroopers were, followed by another thud and another. Preceding each thump was the sound of a blaster of some sort, but it was different than that of a trooper. The rap of footsteps heading your way made you both tense up and prepare to defend yourselves until a familiar face rounded the corner.

"Someone call a rescue team?" Han Solo asked with a grin.

"Han." You let out a mix between a laugh and a sigh of relief. "How did you know we needed help?"

"Seonghwa told us using one of the listening devices you planted."

"You heard me?" He asked, relieved that his call for help didn't fall on deaf ears.

"We were listening the whole time. We had a team of Resistance members monitoring the audio at all times." Han responded. "Now let's get you two outta here."

He beckoned you both forward, bringing you around the corner to find stormtroopers scattered about on the floor, each of them sporting one or more holes in their chests, their armor marred by burn marks.

"You took them all out by yourself?" You asked, stepping over one of the bodies.

"I've had lots of practice, kid." Han responded, moving on down the corridor.

The three of you jogged through the halls, proceeding quickly while sweeping the area. Your escape wasn't an easy one as more stormtroopers came up from the opposite direction, blocking the way.

"Stop right there!" One of them shouted, holding his blaster.

Han Solo pointed his own gun at the group of armor-clad troopers while you activated your lightsaber again. When they saw you were going to put up a fight, an onslaught of red plasma blasts blurred past. You moved in, ducking and dodging shots while taking a swing at the nearest stormtrooper's legs. He shouted in pain and fell to the ground, giving Han an opportunity to take him down while he was vulnerable.

Seonghwa, weaponless, used his Force abilities to push away the troopers that got too close, shoving them into one another. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to stop them.

"Hey, kid!" Han Solo called out to Seonghwa. "Thought you might need this so I brought it just in case." His glossy chrome lightsaber was tossed over. "Found it in Y/n's room."

Seonghwa's eyes widened, looking at you with surprise. You were about to ask Han why he was even in your room to start with, but Seonghwa spoke before you could.

"You kept my lightsaber in your room?"

Your cheeks were set aflame at his question before you shot one back at him without thinking. "Where were you keeping mine, huh?"

Now it was Seonghwa's turn to become flustered, his ears turning red.

Oh.

"Now's not the time for all this." Han spoke gruffly, using his blaster to hit a stormtrooper.

"Sorry." You and Seonghwa spoke in unison, his blue lightsaber activating.

A smile that couldn't be suppressed no matter how hard you tried spread across your face, a wave of nostalgia and joy filling you at the sight of him. It was just like old times.

Seonghwa lunged forward with a shout, you following behind with renewed vigor as you both went at the stormtroopers, knocking their blasters out of their hands and swinging your sabers, slicing through their armor easily. Any troopers you or Seonghwa didn't get were swiftly shot down by Han.

"I think that's all of them." You huffed out.

"Well then let's get out of here before more show up." Han Solo nodded with his head, urging you and Seonghwa forward.

Much to your relief, the three of you made it to the hangar where thankfully no stormtroopers were lingering about. Your feet moved faster, following behind Han to the opening of the hangar, looking around for his ship.

"Where's—"

His loud whistling cut you off as he waved his arm in the air, signaling something out in space. Seconds later, the Millennium Falcon came flying around the back of the First Order vessel.

"Step back." Han ordered as the Falcon eased into the hangar, the loading ramp extending from the bottom. "Come on, come on." He ushered you and Seonghwa up into the ship where you both followed him to the cockpit where Chewie was manning the controls.

Chewbacca stood up so Han could take his place, a joyous noise leaving him when he saw Seonghwa standing there beside you. He was immediately pulled into a big hug by the Wookie who was elated at the long-awaited reunion.

"I missed you too." Seonghwa chuckled, patting Chewbacca's back.

You too were pulled into a tight embrace, laughter bubbling up out of you.

"It's good to see you, big guy." You told Chewie, pulling away.

"Alright everyone, buckle up and hold tight. We're getting the heck outta here." Han Solo said.

Seonghwa's return to Ajan Kloss was a momentous occasion; he was welcomed back with open arms and firm handshakes, but not from Leia. From Leia, he received a suffocatingly tight hug.

"We're happy to have you back." She murmured tearfully, smiling up at Seonghwa. "And thank you for your distress call. Han insisted on being the one to bring you two back."

"Really?" You asked.

"Yes. We were getting a rescue plan together but it wasn't ready to be executed. As soon as we heard the call for help, Han started prepping to leave right away."

"Y/n, you're alive!"

You turned to see Poe walking over with Finn following behind.

"No thanks to you." You teased, giving him a hug.

"Hey now, I came right back here and told everyone you'd been captured." He defended lightheartedly, his eyes drifting to your friend standing beside you. "Ah. You must be Seonghwa! This girl right here talks about you nonstop. I wish I knew where Seonghwa was. I hope Seonghwa comes back. You would've liked Seonghwa. I hope we find—"

"Okay." Finn came up, chuckling awkwardly and grabbing Poe by the shoulders, slowly pulling him away. "That's enough out of you."

To celebrate your rescue and Seonghwa's return, the droids and cooks prepared a massive meal for the camp. The both of you stuck around the tent for a while to chat with Resistance members before deciding to go off somewhere for a little privacy. And that place was atop the Millennium Falcon.

"I missed the food here." You sighed fondly, rubbing your stomach. "The meals I was given on the First Order ship weren't great... no offense."

"None taken." Chuckled Seonghwa. "It was subpar at best. Even when I was a Sith I missed the food here."

You laughed softly, gazing up at the stars like you'd done years ago, seated with your legs crossed. When you turned back, Seonghwa was looking at you and had leaned in closer.

"This is nice." He murmured softly.

"What is?"

"Being up here with you."

Fighting back a smile, you responded. "And why's that?"

"Because I can finally give you a proper kiss."

He leaned in and placed his lips gently on yours, tentatively at first. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment now that you were both home and safe. His hand slid around to cup the nape of your neck, guiding you to lie back while his lips slowly danced over yours, making you melt. Once you laid down, he leaned over you and depended the kiss by tilting his head and picking up the pace. A mix between a soft sigh and a hum left you, your hands moving up to run through his long locks.

"I love your hair like this." You murmured against his lips.

"Yeah? You like it longer?"

"I do." You brushed your digits through it, making his eyelids flutter, a low noise leaving him before he dove back in for a passionate kiss that took your breath away. His hand that wasn't cradling the nape of your neck slid down your side to feel your curves through the fabric of your gray tunic.

Your fingers gripped at his inky hair, making him groan against your mouth, sending a flurry of butterflies to your stomach. His pillowy lips captured your bottom one, surrounding it in warmth before he encompassed your mouth wholly with his and making your head spin in the process.

When he pulled away, you were both panting shallowly, looking at each other with half-lidded eyes that were glazed over with adoration and longing for one another. It was a picture perfect moment; you and the man you loved lying under the stars together, reunited at last.

"I love you." Seonghwa murmured reverently, caressing your cheek tenderly with his thumb as you both gazed at one another lovingly.

You smiled softly at him before responding, "I know."

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Late WIP Wednesday ..

(aaa km not sure if i should finish this, it started off strong but just fell off and now my brain isnt working)

Simon’s home & marriage was his refuge, until it wasn't. He knew something wasn't right when you were coincidentally prepared for his return, all dolled up when you greeted him with an “I miss you” kiss. No, he was sure it wasn't you when he saw that the dinner table was prepared with a generous spread of food on it.

There was no reason for you to come this prepared, everytime he comes home from deployment is a surprise. So..how exactly are you this ready? It didn't sit right with him, the whole thing felt like it came out of a painfully obvious scripted reality TV show.

But food was food and after countless weeks spent eating barely edible MRE’s, a home cooked meal was all he needed. Sluggishly, he sat down at his unsaid designated spot at the dinner table. He closely watched if you would sit down at your designated spot, if you didn't; that’d explained a lot. You do end up sitting at your spot, it wasn't all that hard to do though. Dinner with you was unsettling to say the least, all of the small talk you were making felt forced, it’s barely been an hour and he already feels like he's going crazy.

He knows more than to question you upfront though, having gone through enough interrogations to know that he should take his time and that you could get hostile if things don't go your way. You could be a threat for all he knew, and it's better to be safe than sorry. Unsure if it was the right decision, he starts out some sort of small talk himself, asking you some seemingly innocent questions.

“What were yer up to while I was gone, luv?” He asks mid chew. “Oh not much, I just picked up a new hobby actually. Clay sculpting! I've been watching online tutorials, I could say I’ve been getting the hang of it if I do say so myself.” Liar, was all he could think while he subconsciously nodded to your words. You hated clay, not fond of the texture it had and the way it’d get stuck under your nails. Perhaps it was another one of your impulsive decisions, jumping into conclusions should be the last thing he should be doing. It could cost him more harm than good, so he lets it slide. For now at least.

“Sculpting eh? That's new, have ye finished any?” He pauses, swallowing his food. “I’d love to see them.” A spark lights up in your eyes, but it didn't look right. There's a lit candle in there but it's far, far away. The lack of life in your eyes makes his stomach spin like there's a guinea pig rolling around in their wheel in there, it made him want to puke. He wasn't the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact anyway, so he’ll just avoid looking you in the eye to prevent making a mess. “Oh yeah I actually do! They're already displayed on top of our shelves, I’ll show them to you after.” You exclaim, if that was you anyway, which it wasn't.

Dinner passed at an uncomfortably slow pace, Simon swore he could hear each individual tick and tock of the clock, the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates and each chew you took. He’s gone through debatably louder things than this, the booms of the explosions were unforgettable after all but this somehow takes the cake. Wanting to distract himself further, he helps with washing the dishes which you normally did but you specifically chose today to help do the other minor chores. Water, that was your weak point. He noticed it, you didn't drink water after dinner either. What kind of monster doesn't drink water to hydrate after eating roasted pork?

To test out this thought of his, he decided to ask another question. “I'm heading to the shower, luv. Care to join me?” Meekly, he suggests to you, deep brown eyes staring intently as he awaited the already expected answer. “Oh I..actually already showered earlier dear. Maybe next time.” A dishearteningly dismissive reply, just like he expected. “Alright, suit yourself luv. I'll be back.”

He thought about it, almost forgetting about the bubbly soap running down his body from how deep in thought he was. There was no doubt about it anymore, everything about you being you, pointed away. At this point, he didn't care what the fake you was anymore, rather where you actually were. You could've been dead for all he knew, replaced by the soulless woman that now roams around his home.

This was beyond cruel, beyond the pain physical torture could've caused. It was like the universe was a cat and he was a yarn ball, being played by it meticulously. The whole thing was definitely planned out by a certain someone he knew, the both of you are fairly private so it couldn't have been a random person. He couldn't handle this alone, as much as he’d hate to admit, the situation was way bigger than him to do alone. So, he decides to call a trusted someone.

“You tellin’ me ye think your wife got abducted or something..and a doppelgänger replaced her?” A gruff voice questions, lightly tapping his cigar against the side of the ashtray. Price, him and Kate are the only members of the Task Force so far that Simon allowed you to meet. Well, it unfortunately looks like the sergeants won't get to meet you under these circumstances just yet. Strangely enough, the clocks inside the pub weren't working. Must be a malfunction. The masked man nodded, sighing through his nose when he got a whiff of the alcohol-filled air in the bar.

“I feel so.” He grumbled. “Couldn't she be just having an off day? We all have those, Simon.” John opposes it, it was an unquestionable possibility they couldn't simply ignore. “No, I know my wife. In my years of being with her, she's never acted this way.” Ghost hissed back, a hint of crystal clear impatience seeping out from his words. The lack of respect in his tone wasn't intended, but what could he do when his wife is apparently kidnapped and replaced so seamlessly? “I guess you have a point, but you need to confirm it Simon. You shouldn't make any decision on impulse, if the woman in your home really isn't your wife then this is a bigger issue.”

Then the plan was set, still a little all over the place but there really wasn't any time to lose. Simon would further observe the woman who's allegedly ‘you’ to make sure he isn't making things up, then if he was incredibly sure it wasn't you, he’ll head to the police and file a report for a missing person. In all honesty, it wasn't hard to do, having gone through missions more intense than this. Yet the fact that you were involved made the bugs inside of him crawl, this was totally his fault.

He didn't hide you away from the world enough, he should've just kept you locked inside a cage like the little birdie you were to avoid any danger coming your way. Simon wasn't stupid though, that was inhumane, you were one of the only few people who has managed to make Simon feel less of a ghost and more of a human. So doing such a thing to you was unethical and out of the books, but how could you blame him for subconsciously letting his possessiveness and worry take over when you're literally so far from his grasp? Being so near before that he could easily grip at the back of your top, now so far that the trace of your scent is long gone.

It makes Simon feel sick, his core being left to rot. He comes from the pub to what felt like an empty house, not home because nothing would feel like home without you there. He’d rather be living in a pile of rocks and plywood with you than in a giant mansion without you, that would be the real hell. “Bloody hell..where are you?” He murmurs under his breath, stressedly rubbing his creased forehead. If he could, he’d pry at every surface that comes up within his sight just to find you.

“I’m back.” He whispers, unsure if the fake you was asleep or not. Anyone, human or not wouldn't be happy being woken up from their slumber. “Welcome home, hun. You alright?” Looking up from your cup of tea, you ask. “Yeah, just spoke with the Captain. That's all, no alcohol.” Simon was so used to you being a worrywart about his alcohol intake, telling you that he didn't have any alcohol is practically ingrained into the wrinkles of his brain. But the woman in front of him didn't seem to care less about his health, let alone him in general. The lack of nagging that usually filled his ears to the brim didn't feel right, he would've much rather gone through another one of your yap sessions about how constant alcohol intake affects him in the long run than..just silence.

He feels the desperation inching up on him, eating him whole. At this point, he's willing to admit he doesn't want you. He needs you. He needs to hear your fretful complaints about him getting deployed, knowing you’d shut up because you were used to it by now. He needs you to tell him to include more vegetables in his diet because he's not some kind of carnivore to be eating that much meat. God, he just needs you with him. Whatever bloody thing came with you he’d take like it was on a stupid Black Friday sale.

“Not yet..” He’d think every single night, eyes wide open as he prevents himself from making a rash decision. The woman sleeping soundly right next to him, if that was you..But it wasn't, even if he stared at the unfamiliar woman for ten hours straight, she wouldn't just magically turn into you. Well sure, she was a carbon copy of you from head to toe but she simply just didn't scream ‘you’. Whatever and whoever you were anyway.

“When all is said and done, I think it'll end well Simon. My gut feeling tells me so, it's rarely ever wrong so I’m pretty sure we should trust it.” You ramble on and on, the little amount of alcohol taking over your lightweight self. Simon was still courting you here, yet he remembers it like it's been replayed in his mind like a broken record. He trusted your gut, and he could consider that as one of the best choices he's ever made in life.

But..trusting you now? While you're probably out, all shivering & teeth clattering from the immense cold night? Impossible, he’s fully aware that you're a capable strong woman however..how far can his trust go? How far do you have to venture into someone’s soul to gain their fragile trust, something that can be easily broken with your own bare hands? Ghost doesn't trust you, but Simon does.

“You're a strong gal, you can hold on for much longer.” He supposes, deep in thought while he flipped around in bed. The fake you hasn't set off any red flags yet, acting normal. Too normal. He knew ‘you’ had a purpose for being here, one with malicious intent, though what exactly? One wouldn't simply come in here and replace his wife with a fake one just out of spite, unless they were a little cuckoo. Tossing aside to check the time, he presses the ‘on’ button on his phone. Weird, the time didn't show up. Maybe it's just a glitch in the system.

“Simon, Hey? Simon, wake up. Hurry, you need to get up.” A voice shakes, lightly nudging him in order to awake him. It's your voice, he can instantly sense its meekness. With one eye and another, they flutter open, still full of sleep in them. “Oh thank goodness, you're awake! But you seriously need to wake up, like right now.” You crooned, hoping he’d fully wake up to the sound of your voice. Groaning, Simon sat up, a few joints popping in the process. “What..? Yeah, I’m awake luv. Whad’ya need me for?” He questions groggily, eyes opening further once he gets a closer look at you. It's actually you, he can tell! The way your eyes meet his, connecting like a bee landing on a precious flower. The way your voice lilted to him like a mother bird nursing her hatchlings, it really was you.

“Wait–luv? You're here? Bloody hell, you actually are–Did you see the other gal who looked just like you? Tell me I’m not losing my shit please.” Then you shushed him, convinced he’ll continuously go on and on if you didn't. “Please listen to me closely, Simon.” You pause, noticing how his eyes bask in yours like it was long overdue. “You need to wake up, hurry.”

[disneyprincemuke]

sick little games * op81

neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)

(prev)

you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.

oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.

on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.

you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.

you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”

“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”

“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”

he blinks at you. “too soon.”

“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”

you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.

oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”

“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”

he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”

you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”

“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”

you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.

a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”

“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”

“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”

oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”

“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”

you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.

and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?

“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”

“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”

“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”

he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”

“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”

“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.

“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”

“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”

you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.

he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”

“oscar…”

insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”

you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @happy-nico @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @namgification @c-losur3

taglist: @lipringlrh @mess-is-my-aesthetic @vicurious28 @imsiriuslyreal @fionaschicken @pastryboyyy @spookystitchery @topgunmav1df1 @nixisracing @honethatty12 @bloodyymaryyy

[ssivinee]

❇︎Subtle Vivacity❇︎

BEBE! Bada Lee x OC Team! F Reader: The competition was growing in intensity every single minute that passed. Bada felt like a nervous wreck for the most part, but not because of the competition. It was because of you.

Word Count: 4.1k

Note: I literally haven't posted a fic in so long, my bad guys🫡. but I'm back! AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR 600 FOLLOWERS. IT ACTUALLY MEANS SO MUCH TO ME🥹.

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Lia Kim strode towards the opposing side with a mission in mind, picking Mina Myoung as her no-respect dancer. You stared at the two, already envisioning the scene that was about to unfold. The details of the two old best friends having a fallout were no secret, and as you watched, the feeling of skepticism surged within you. 

As a dance teacher, you weren’t a stranger to young students having bad blood. But these were adults. People who could’ve worked it out behind the scenes, yet here they were, about to battle it out. And you just knew it was gonna be a shitshow.

The crews were absolutely hyped, their excitement filling the fight zone. However, your expression contorted, a grim gaze settling on your face, conveying a different feeling amidst the enthusiasm.

“This match-up is finally happening,” Yoonji says, and Rena of Tsubakill held her hands together, almost hoping for a good match.

“I understand having disagreements, but I’d be highly disappointed if they let their emotions get in the way of dance,” you told the camera during your confessional interview.

Dancing should be fun and full of expression that anyone can enjoy, but your expectations come low with this match-up, as you find your eyes fueling bitterness.

“You seem to have a lot of complaints.” “It’s not that I had complaints. The title of chief choreographer at 1MILLION. I wonder if you earned that solely with your effort.”

“It’s not like I stole it from anyone,” Lia Kim points at herself, her face showing off a slight arrogant feeling. As Mina talks, you begin to space out. The hostility in the air was something you didn’t want to hear.

“This feels like a waste of time and a waste of a battle,” you mumble, but Emi hears it, nodding at your statement. “Maybe they should just have a fistfight to duke it out,” the sub-leader jokes, and you laugh, lowering your head to conceal your reaction.

The battle begins, and as you watch, you can’t help but roll your eyes, eyeing the interaction in disdain. Mina couldn’t properly respect the battle, walking around and almost paying little to no attention to her old friend. She then approaches her opponent, and the two almost hit each other.

You scoff with a laugh, “They can’t be serious right now?”

Some dancers found it cool or scary, but you weren’t entertained, not at all. The rest of your crew could clearly be seen staying seated on your bench with looks of disgust. “Doesn’t look like Doyennes is enjoying the show,” Minah points out to her leader, causing Bada to look over in your direction discreetly.

She stared at your crew, seeing the repulsed faces. Your eyes looked bored yet stern as you watched the two dancers battling it out.

“They look fucking crazy,” you mouth silently, telling yourself, but as if Bada becomes the best mouth reader in the world, she understands as her eyes grow wide at your words.

Your eyes roll back as the battle ends, the scene that occurred leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Should’ve just fought each other,” Bell says, and the rest just nod, not even having the energy to talk after that.

After a few other dances, the ace battles were about to begin. You find yourself turned around, delegating with your crew. “It's either you or Serena,” Athena says, and the other girls nod. You look over at Serena, your youngest, having the most wins and battles despite not showing everything she’s got.

“You think you’ll be up for it?” You question, and everyone looks at her as she gives you a determined nod. “Well, that fixes it then.”

Serena had gone up and challenged every single ace but wasn't chosen once. When it was her turn to pick, it was only between Waaxcky and Baby Sleek, one more hesitant than the other. Your youngest gives the two a friendly smile, “I’ll go with Baby Sleek.”

As if the whole room freezes at her choice, silence engulfs everyone but your crew, who cheer. “This one's gonna be good,” you hear Maya say as she and Bell giggle from behind you.

You stand up behind Serena, arms crossed, as she starts off hearing, “ZOO” by the artists of SM. The song choice has you smirking as Serena’s innocent eyes transform into an intense gaze. Your eyes glide to the right, staring directly at Bada, who you knew helped choreograph this song. Her eyes didn’t leave the younger dancer, probably wondering how she would dance to the song.

As the pre-chorus hits, Serena moves her body, hitting every tick she can, isolating the upper half of her body. She then goes on her knees, hitting dime stops as the chorus comes up. 

Just like a zoo!

Serena acts like an animal crawling on the floor as she bounces back up, hitting a move that feels almost impossible. She bent her back, showing her face upside down to Baby Sleek, then slid black down smoothly head first.

You were hyped, only showing a smile and little jumps at the tricks she pulled. 

The crowd was gradually getting into it, some cheers filling the air as Serena continued to showcase her dynamic moves. As the second verse approached, she switched to a more fluid style, transitioning between smooth waves and sharp pops. The versatility in her dance style was apparent, and the spectators were captivated by the unexpected yet impressive performance.

Baby Sleek, on the other hand, appeared a bit taken aback, her usually confident demeanor showing signs of uncertainty. The complexity of Serena's routine seemed to catch her off guard. Bada observed from her seat, a raised eyebrow indicating her surprise at the unfolding scene.

As the music reached its climax, Serena unleashed a flurry of quick footwork, perfectly in sync with the beats. The energy in the room heightened, and even those who initially doubted Serena's choice were now nodding in approval.

The final beats of the song echoed, and Serena struck a powerful pose, her eyes locking with Baby Sleek's. The room fell silent for a moment before erupting into cheers. Your crew, especially, erupted into joy, proud of Serena's stellar performance.

Bada's eyes were fixed on you, a subtle acknowledgment of the skill displayed by your crew's youngest member. Serena bowed to Baby Sleek, offering a smile, a gesture that carried sportsmanship.

As Serena returned to your crew, you gave her a nod of approval, “Good job. You killed it.” The younger dancer beamed with pride, her eyes gleaming with accomplishment.

The judges held their cards, and when the results were revealed, it was a unanimous decision in favor of Serena. Other crews had a go, even leading into the crew battles, but they finally revealed rankings for the no-respect battles. The show continued with all the groups having a crew dance battle. The day was now about to end with the rankings of each crew.

The crew rankings were announced, and Doyennes had taken second with ten wins and three losses. So when the girls retreat back to their rooms, they cheered. The adrenaline still lingering in everyone's veins.

“We killed that shit!” Maya squeals and Bell is seen hopping by her side, full of excitement. “If only I didn’t lose twice,” Athena grumbles, and Emi adds, “And if I didn’t lose once.” You shook your head at the girls, “Your battles were both against Wolf’Lo members. They’re tough to beat in battles. You guys did good regardless.”

“People should’ve danced against me more during the ace battles,” Serena mumbled as the other girls were cheering and trying to hype the other two up. You look at the youngest, knowing that look of disappointment anywhere. “Chin up, baby. You did good,” You tell her, taking a seat beside the young dancer as you rest your arm on her shoulders.

“Besides, they were scared of you out there. Take some pride in that,” You told her in Korean, and she smiled a little, feeling better at the words of encouragement.

The Korean was something that only you two bonded over the past few months, and Serena learned a lot from you. She knew you viewed her as your younger sister, and she also saw you as her older one.

“We’re gonna kill this competition,” Serena says, suddenly becoming bold with her words of choice. “We’ll show them who the Professors of Dance are,” You tell her, a confident smirk painted on your face.

Suddenly, the monitor turned on, and everyone saw Daniel. “Here we go again,” you heard Emi voice out. “Street Woman 2, the 1st battle, no respect, battle with the worst dancer. Did it help you figure out the other crews? To try and secure your ranking or go up in the ranking, here’s the next mission you’ll have to face soon.”

Everyone sits up except you, leaning back and relaxing on the sofa, almost knowing what the mission would be. “Your next mission is… the Class Mission.” You smile at the words. The mission where leaders had gone viral multiple times for their pieces. Safe to say you were excited, but you held it in, wanting to hear what the songs were first. 

“In the class mission, the elite members of each crew will be assigned to four classes. The leader class, sub-leader class, middle class, and rookie class. Each class will finish a dance video.”

“These are gonna be hard, but I know my girls are capable enough to hold their own,” you said in your confessionals.

“In each class, there will be one main dancer to be the protagonist in each video. The main dancer will get extra points, stand at the center of the video, and direct the dance video. Individual scores will be given out in the class mission. The points will be distributed differently in each class. The three fight judges will rank the dancers of each class from 1st to 9th places.”

“So we have to stand out regardless of whether we're the main dancer or not?” Maya questions, and you nod. 

Daniel explained the rest and the benefits that Wolf’Lo gets, and then the leaders began picking which dancers to put in which class.

You sat in another room, thinking hard about the next decisions you were about to make. One person from your crew would have to sit out, and 2 positions were already set in stone for the crew. You are in the leader class, and Emi is in the sub-leader class. So, who were the next choices? 

“I have to be smart about this,” you mumbled as the camera rolled and recorded each name you wrote down on your paper.

When thinking about the rookie class, you didn’t think of the least experienced member but the most youthful one, so Bell was your pick. You then contemplated the last three, Serena, Athena, and Maya. You wanted to put Serena in one of these classes, knowing she was such a strong dancer but Athen and Maya seemed to be a duo that worked like yin and yang, so you opted for the two instead.

“Joined by the best producers in South Korea, here are the songs for the class mission.”

“Oh, we get to hear them now?” Bell states, almost jumping in her seat like a rabbit.

The first song was the Dynamic Duo’s ‘Smoke.’ The crew listened and grinned as they stared at you. “The songs are totally your style, Lo,” Emi yelled, and everyone agreed and you sat there, only nodding your head as you listened to the song. It was aggressive and hip, something you were fond of hearing. “I can definitely work with that.”

Then Crush popped up on the screen, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, not being too fond of the artist. Ehem, with the things he’s done in the past that we don’t talk about.

It was then time to show ‘Click Like,’ and as much as you weren’t fond of the guy, you hated to say that the song was groovy and easy to listen to. “It sounds sexy as hell,” Emi says, almost pondering. It wasn’t exactly her strongest suit, as contemporary was storytelling, but she knew she could make it work somehow.

When ‘Swipe’ and ‘Twerk’ were revealed, you felt a weight come off your shoulders, knowing you picked the right girl for each class for sure.

It was finally the day to choose the choreography for each song and you danced in your designated hideout, doing some final markings for the dance. As the headphones settled comfortably over your ears with bass-boosted music, you didn’t hear the knock on the door. 

Bada peaks her head in, volunteering to get you as every other leader was in the fight zone, already preparing to present their dance. The leader of Bebe didn’t want to intrude and seemed like she was scoping out the competition; however, she couldn't resist gazing at you.

You weren’t facing the door, but Bada felt the immense aura you exuded, the power in your motions clearly pronounced even if you weren’t going all out.

You flaunted remarkable control over your body, a trait Bada undoubtedly possessed. Yet, there was a distinctive quality when it came to your interpretation of dance. The way she clearly saw your muscle flexing, the change in dynamics in certain parts, the way your blonde hair danced with you.

Safe to say, she felt a bit intimidated watching you.

After what felt like forever, Bada decides to step in, tapping your shoulder. You look over, seeing her with a friendly smile as you slip the headphones onto your collarbones, “Everyone else is downstairs now.” Your eyes somewhat widen at the words, and Bada finds your bewildered face adorable. Your siren eyes practically turned into large innocent bubbles.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. Did I make you guys wait for too long?” You ask, settling your devices onto the table as you pat your clothes down a bit. “No, we were gonna start in ten, but I just wanted to let you know,” Bada tells you, not wanting to admit that she basically spent three of those ten minutes staring at your dance. 

“Well, thanks for letting me know,” you tell her, then sipping on your water. “Let’s go down now?” You question, and she nods, moving to the side to let you pass. She closes the door for you. “What a gentlewoman,” you tease, and Bada’s cheeks go pink, making you chuckle at the flustered sight.

As you guys make your way down, you see all the leaders seated on the floor, and the two of you decide to sit next to each other on the rear end. Halo then goes first, and you stare at the dance with dull eyes. She made it work, but as a collective team? It didn’t suit a group performance, or any of the other leaders for that matter.

The feedback was lethal, which was expected in this class. It felt like a barrage of bullets targeting each dancer as they showed their pieces. Nob, Funky Y, Mina, Lia, Kirsten, and Akanen faced the same feat, everyone having more unfavorable things to say about their dances. You stayed quiet for the most part until it was only you and Bada left.

Deciding to go next, you stood on the walkway, rolling your neck a bit. Other crews watched in their hideouts and couldn’t help but compliment you over and over again even if you hadn’t started yet. 

“God, how can someone look so cool?” 

“Doesn’t she look like a Barbie?”

“This mission was probably a piece of cake for her.”

As you began, Bada expected highly of you from what she had already seen from her sneaky preview and you didn’t disappoint. You played it smart, and the choreography was easy to follow. It would appeal to the audience, and Bada knew, with a face like that, you were stealing everyone's hearts as they watched you.

The movement of your hips were fluid, and each move connected perfectly with power and energy. 

This had Bada feeling nervous.

She believed that you and Kirsten were her biggest competitors but for different reasons. Kirsten was a dancer who had the most unique style amongst all the leaders, making any dance her own.

You, on the other hand, were the most similar to her, but almost felt like a better version. You were taller, had more experience, excelled in advanced styles of dance, won competitions, and worked with several global artists.

At this point, you were the only one to look out for.

You ended up blowing out a flame on your pointer finger, and Bada wanted to clap for you but held back. “It definitely felt the coolest as of right now,” Funky Y said, “but I think only some of us can pull this off.”

“This is a dance I would like to do, the power, the fluidity, dynamics. It was entertaining to watch,” Kirsten says, and you nod at her, appreciating your friends feed back. For the most part, everyone said similar things.

Then it was Bada’s turn, and as soon as she began, you knew the fight would be tough. Bada seemed to embody the song perfectly, and it had you smirking. ‘I’m so fucked,’ was what you thought. The tall leader was the definition of charisma and charm, and it irritated you a little bit.

It was a competition, and you were admiring a competitor. 

In most cases, you’d be okay with this, but seeing how you and Bada almost mirrored each other in a way didn’t sit well in your mind. It felt a little unsettling, not realizing the similarities until the she danced.

“While watching Bada, I could find no flaws,” Halo says. That’s when a lot of the compliments were rolling in, and somehow, the two of you were now in the same boat. The votes were evenly split, four for you and four for Bada. Then Mina brings up a point that the choreos chosen seemed to be easy to steal.

That somehow caused a stir for people to reevaluate their decision, but in the end, Bada ended up taking the crown. You pat her on the back, “Congrats.” “Thank you,” she bows at you.

"Your choreography is fun... just don't get too comfortable now," you playfully tease, but she senses a hint of seriousness in your words. "Don't worry, I'm not. I can't be, especially with you in this competition," Bada teases back, and your eyebrow raises at the playful tone.

You held a sly smirk. 

Let the fun begin.

It was now time for the leader class to perform, and you stood beside Kirsten as you waited for your turn. “You ready for this?” Kirsten whispered to you, leaning in a bit. “Always am,” you confidently stated with a smile.

The first group went first, but your attention was fixated on Bada the entire time. You marked the routine as the song played, but your eyes couldn’t stray away from her alluring figure. As Bada rolled her hips, you couldn't help but let out a low groan.

How could someone be so sexy? Bada could quite literally just stand there, and STILL look that good.

As your group took the stage, you casually fixed your hair into a low ponytail. The music started, and during the lighter parts, your expression changed, and your thumb flick signaled the beginning of what promised to be an extraordinary performance. You seemed lost in your own world, drawing everyone's attention with captivating expressions.

You danced with an approach that seemed like a mix of Bada and Kirsten. The power and force were Bada’s style, but the usage of space and foot work were similar to Kirsten.

It wasn’t “their style” but while watching the two practice for a bit, you brain picked up certain portions that you liked from each. The group finishes off and you and Kirsten pose with your left hands on your back, the hand interpreted lighter and its flame, and a little reverb to the movements.

The announcement of a reaudition brought a momentary sigh. Akanen and Bada performed first. Despite Akanen's skill, Bada's towering presence seemed to overshadow her. The tall dancer felt like a lion on that stage, and everyone had to be wary of it.

When it was your turn, dancing with Kirsten felt like a trip down memory lane. The camaraderie and playfulness between you two filled the stage with an energy echoing the past. Both leaders strategically occupied the space, ensuring every eye was fixated on them. Bada, in particular, watched you intently, her gaze never wavering.

You two work so well together, Bada thought. She wasn’t sure if she felt jealousy bubbling within her or anxiety. You and Kirsten were just too good to overlook. Bada would’ve liked to put the two of in your place to show who the better dancer is amongst you three.

But seeing how all these interactions with you… it felt like you were putting Bada in her place without even trying.

The duo of you and Kirsten ended and cheers, screams, and yells could just be heard. Yet when they hear Shownu speak again, the fight zone quiets down.

The announcement of a reaudition between you and Bada sparked more excitement. Speculations about the impending battle buzzed among the crews. "This battle is gonna be intense," Harimu exclaimed. Baby Sleek pondered on the similarities between your dancing styles, a sentiment echoed by Halo, who had a front-row seat to the choreography selection.

As you and Bada stood in the middle of the stage, the energy was electric, ready to set it on fire. The music played and the synchronization of your movements to each lyric showcased a dance battle that promised to be nothing short of thrilling.

Light it up.

As you and Bada approached the flickering flame, there was an undeniable intensity in the air. The atmosphere charged with electric energy as the two of you prepared to unleash pure power onto the dance floor. The crews, judges, and Daniel could sense that something extraordinary was about to happen.

As you both simultaneously blew out the flame, the movements displayed the grand usage the two of you had on your bodies. They were aggressive, energetic, and filled with intensity that seemed unreal to everyone else as they watched on the sidelines.

Your chemistry with Bada was visible, and as the two of you danced side by side, it felt as if the entire room was witnessing a performance by a duo that had been seamlessly engulfed in dance together for years.

The synergy between your movements was more than just coordination; it was a shared language, a non-verbal dialogue that spoke volumes about the connection you shared. The dance floor became a canvas, and each step, each gesture, painted a vivid picture of unity.

The unfolding scene was hypnotic. The onlookers were drawn into a trance as they heard the resounding echoes of your footsteps and witnessed the unparalleled control you both had over your limbs. So when the two of you ended the performance, both facing the judges as you both blow out the flame, you heard the clapping around you, everyone acknowledging the two of you as amazing dancers.

As the judges discussed, the decision felt like it could go either way. Many of the crews pointed out that both of you should just be the main dancer instead, end of story. You peer over to your right, feeling Bada’s ansty movements, as she couldn’t stand still. 

“No matter who wins, you did amazing,” you whisper, leaning into her ear as you pull her into a side hug, gripping her waist ever so slightly. Bada’s body heats up at the feeling of your breath on her ear, and she feels even more nervous. 

But now, it was because of you. 

Your large hands felt warm, and your slender fingers wrapped on one side of her waist, a sensation she didn’t know she needed. Before Bada could respond, the three judges sat back down, and Shownu brought the mic up, “The main dancer we chose for this class is…”

The anticipation seemed to tighten its grip on Bada, making her almost oblivious to her own actions as she subconsciously held your hand. You glanced down, a slight smile playing on your lips as you met her gaze. The announcement of "Bada" prompted a heavy sigh of relief from Bebe's leader.

You clapped, pulling her into a genuine hug. "You were insane," you mumbled, planting a kiss on her temple, feeling honored to engage in such an intense competition.

Monika, beginning to explain the challenging decision, expressed, "You two felt like one person dancing on stage. I still can’t wrap my head around it, in all honesty. The choice ultimately came down to who we felt fit the song better, and that was Bada."

"The two of you, being tall dancers, feels like you’ve started something revolutionary," she continued, and both of you bowed, smiles etched on your faces.

After the competition, you found yourself alone in your hideout, taking a moment to rest. A knock interrupted your light nap, and you welcomed Bada in with a smile. "What’s up, main dancer?" she greeted with a chuckle. "I saw the lights still open in here and just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"That’s sweet of you," you replied, sitting up. "But I’m fine. Just wanted a little break before heading out." Bada suggested heading out together, and you agreed, ensuring you had everything before leaving.

As you walked together, Bada broke the silence. "The way you dance… It’s so entrancing." You smiled at her. "Dance has been the only thing I’ve known for years, Lee, so I’d hope it feels like that."

“Maybe you can teach me one day?” Bada asks, her face full of mischievousness, but she is being literal.

Who wouldn’t wanna learn from the famous Lotus?

In Bada’s mind, you were someone that people wanted to be. Maybe she wanted something more out of the lessons from you, but only time could tell right now.

Bada had expected you to just laugh and shake off the idea, but while walking, you look at her straight in the eyes, not breaking any eye contact as she sees a smirk on your plush lips.

“When the show doesn’t take up our schedules, I’ll take you up on that offer.” You wink, walking away, into your car, leaving Bada standing there a bit distraught.

Well… I’m screwed, Bada thought while walking away, hands covering her eyes as she shook her head, trying to calm down her flustered self again.

You were dangerous for her, and it felt like you could possibly be Bada’s downfall in this competition.

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[leaves-and-inks]

This was a funny line to get playing as my cowboy beast master ranger, Quinn. He may be a little idealistic at times and sure they should focus on the creché but these are important details!

[ID: Panel 1: Tav (named Quinn), Lae’zel, Astarion, and Shadowheart walk down the mountain pass towards the crèche. On the top left of the frame is a box with the text “somewhere in the mountain pass”. Quinn looks outward, enjoying the view and not fully focusing. Laezel scans her surroundings, carrying a couple of objects under each arm. Astarion looks tired and disinterested towards some bushes, and Shadowheart looks exhausted. A speech bubble from her mouth has her say “I didn't exactly dress for hiking mountains. Shame we couldn't procure some pack mules, or horses…”

Panel 2: Quinn on a plain background. He looks ahead, towards where Shadowheart would be if more people were in frame. He has an interested, excited expression, and an exclamation point next to his head. Parts of his figure overlap the background and the white paper.

Panel 3: Quinn on the same background closes his eyes and smiles turning more towards where the companions would be. A speech bubble coming from him says: “Why, I’d almost say it's a shame that the mind-flared ship didn't also pick up my- “ A speech bubble with harsher lines comes from off-screen, cutting off Quinn's thought, reading: “Horses?!” Parts of his figure and the speech bubbles overlap the background and the white paper.

Panel 4: All four companions are back in frame in the mountain pass. Astarion is in the center of the frame with an indignant expression, eyes closed and head tilted slightly upward. Shadowheart looks over to him from the right of the frame with an annoyed expression. Lae’zel, still carrying the object over her shoulder, looks to Astarion in between the two, also annoyed but mildly more hostile. Quinn is further back to the left of the frame, and he has a shocked and wounded expression. Astarion has a jagged, harsh speech bubble that says: “Perish the thought! Those ill-tempered beasts are prone to biting.” Overlapping his speech bubble and next to Quinn is a heart breaking.

Panel 5: Quinn looking distraught on a plain background with a dark vignette around him. He looks down, pushing his hat up his face and lost in anxious thought. Two thought bubbles appear from his head, one on the left and right. The left thought bubble has an illustration of the horse standing on the beach with the text “MAN” above it, except the horse is replaced with Quinn’s pain horse, and Quinn is also standing on the beach. The right thought bubble, which splits in half between Quinn and Astarion, has Quinn excitedly holding the noses of a paint horse and a mule standing on either side of him. The other half shows a pleasant Astarion looking towards him. On the bottom left of the game is the text: “Hells, he doesn't like horses?” and on the bottom right are two speech bubbles showing the conversation continue. One speech hubble is rounder, and has the word “Well,” written in it before devolving to scribbles. The second speech bubble is harsher, and is full of scribbles.

Panel 6: Astarion on a plain background looking over his right shoulder, a confused and worried expression on his face. A question mark is next to him. Parts of his figure overlap the background and the white paper.

Panel 7: Astarion and Quinn on a plain background, parts of both of their figures overlapping the white paper. Astarion falls back, leaning back and towards Quinn with a wary and concerned expression. Quinn looks down at the ground sadly.

Panels 8-10: Three separate panels of Astarion and Quinn on plain background. Astarion is on the right in each frame, and Quinn on the left. In the first frame, Quinn continues to look down sadly, while Astarion turns towards him nervously with a wobbly speech bubble saying: “Are you alright darling? You look… not quite yourself.” In the second frame, Quinn looks up with his eyes closed, taking in a deep breath. the words “*Inhale*” are above his head. Astarion looks towards him, but not directly at him, frowning, concerned, and wary. In the final frame, Quinn looks at Astarion with the wettest, saddest eyes, a shaking speech bubble and small text coming from him saying: “You don't like horses?” Astarion looks towards him and down slightly, mildly annoyed and his hands in front of him in exasperation saying with a slightly jagged speech bubble: “We’re walking straight into a horrid death trap and you’re concerned I don't like horses?”./end ID]

[chaifootsteps]

A few people have said this already but do you agree with the idea that the only time Blitzø and stolas have interesting chemistry is when they’re arguing and being just plain hostile? Between Blitzøs trauma and stolas’ incel rage they’d be such good enemies. Like this is what they were made for. I cant wait to see their fights, not hugs.

With the way the fandom is split in half defending one from the other constantly. These two work great as opposing sides. And fandom love shipping enemies, the profits of merch wouldn’t be harmed. We all want to see who will “win” It’s exactly how a fandom operates with anti hero protagonists and sympathetic villains, not romance. And how often do we get to see an interesting ‘lovers’ to enemies story?

Maybe some people want them to get married but I’d prefer stolas in full demonic form fighting Blitzø fully geared up with holy weapons. Like a sword. It would make the childhood angle actually work as a tragic past if they ended up as adults killing each other. Like fox and the hound. Because it didn’t have to be this way. Let the chandelier fall and shatter. At the end the killing blow feels like a mercy, the owl spitting fury and insults on the ground while Blitzø tearfully and regretfully says “just stay down dammit” before pulling the last trigger and after, vowing that this is his last kill.

Anon, you're teasing me with the story we almost had like a dog with a piece of meat. Good lovers to enemies stories are so rare, and this would have been one for the ages.

They could have even worked in some ambiguously shippable tension, had that cake and ate it too, with Blitzo staring down at this abhorrent, vile, pathetic man spitting insults and just for a moment, remembering that little boy whose first instinct was to bow to him.

[thefandomenchantress]

I think it’s interesting that sometimes, when I write Ace in a non-killing game AU, he seems to be more closely characterized to chapter 2 Ace than chapter 1 Ace. It’s like seeing what he can become in a hostile environment like the killing game sort of makes me retroactively see him as way more…grumpy, would maybe be the right word?

I suppose what I mean is that in chapter 2, Ace’s cowardice, among other traits, begin to take a backseat to his anger. Evidence of this can be most obviously found in the fact that, when Ace got new sprites for chapter two, the DRDTdev didn’t bother remaking any neutral or happy sprites. There are still some scared ones, of course, but most of them have him angry or at least a little grumpy/irritated.

(A few examples of sprites that were never remade/only have angrier alternatives now. (Happy punching Ace sprite my beloved…We‘ll probably never see you again…)).

You could make the argument he was quite aggressive even before the killing game really started, as seen during his introduction, (though you could also argue that maybe he wouldn’t have been so aggressive if he hadn’t just been kidnapped and in a new place he knew nothing about, but I digress). And yeah, you’d be right. He was already pretty antagonistic towards others in chapter 1.

But like…Recently I was thinking about my Ace characterization in some of my fics, and I realized that, since chapter 2 came out and he started being way more mean and angry…Sometimes I accidentally make him a lot grumpier than he actually was.

In chapter 1, it’s easy to forget that Ace seemed to actually be pretty easily excited/riled up about little things. And sometimes I have to remind myself that no, it is not out of character if I make him happy or excited sometimes, he doesn’t always have to be grumpy or scared. I mean, he’s grumpy or scared a lot, but not 100% of the time. Especially once he befriends Levi and feels a little safer, I think almost every happy sprite gets most of its use in the elevator scene with the two of them.

I guess the main thesis of this post is, since Ace’s chapter 2 self is somehow even more extreme and attention-grabbing than chapter 1 Ace, it’s easy to forget that Ace has emotions besides angry and scared that he used to show. Such as neutral or excited. And sometimes, it’s easy to feel like making him happy or somewhat non-angry/grumpy in a fic is too out of character, since chapter 2 Ace can stick in your mind a little more.

So I just wanted to make a post saying that, given the circumstances of your fic(or art) allow it, don’t be afraid to make Ace happy and excited over stupid things!!! Especially over stupid things actually!!!! Letting him be happy or passionate about something is not a characterization-crime. This man is not perpetually grumpy/mad all the time, even if he is easily aggravated.

This post was partially made for myself, so I can encourage myself and my happy Ace agenda. But I also wanted to encourage anyone else who likes writing him as happy sometimes but felt as though it wasn’t close enough to canon. Sometimes I’d feel a little…uh…I guess the best word for it would be ‘cringe’ for making Ace all >:D in my fics, and I realized lately I’ve been making him more grumpy because of that. But making Ace easily excited isn’t the most out of character thing ever, and even if it was, fics are made for fun and if you like making him happy then fucking go for it!!!!

TL;DR, Ace was, in fact, able to be happy/excited before people started killing each other, and showing that your writing (or art etc.) is not a crime! If you like making him smile then do it!

[hanzajesthanza]

“what does geralt get from that friendship…”

another post examining the weight of geralt and dandelion’s friendship… because i don’t think people recognize how painful and debilitating loneliness can become.

the witcher as a deconstruction of the genre takes fantasy tropes to their most logical ends—it asks us to consider what The Lone Swordsman feels, looks into the humanity in a Cold-Blooded Killer. and it turns out he’s not cold-blooded at all.

that despite some superhuman abilities, he laments and worries and curses himself, just like any other worker of any other profession. just as the farmer is scorched by the sun, the washerwoman’s back aches, and the scholar goes half-blind studying, a witcher deals with all of the pains and annoyances and dangers of his job in a mundanely human way.

but the farmer, the washerwoman, and the scholar have something the witcher does not have—they’ll always be seen as human and part of their society. at the end of the day after enduring all of their labor, they have their wife to caress, festivities to attend, and taverns to frequent. but for a witcher? after the killing is over, what does he have? no one and nothing. not even a thank you. he is met with fear and hatred everywhere he goes, baseless bigotry and dislike.

I did my job. I quickly learned how. I’d ride up to village enclosures or town pickets and wait. If they spat, cursed and threw stones, I rode away. If someone came out to give me a commission, I’d carry it out.

so he faces not just loneliness, but being deliberately ostracized and cast out from society. geralt can’t even find a polite word in most settlements, much less a friend.

‘(…) Tell me, where should I go? And for what? At least here some people have gathered with whom I have something to talk about. People who don’t break off their conversations when I approach. People who, though they may not like me, say it to my face, and don’t throw stones from behind a fence. (…)’

this kind of loneliness is not a mere inconvenience. it’s completely altering to your self-perception and ability to see the positive in the world.

each day is not lived, but endured.

day in, and day out—forced to the most difficult and lowest labor in order to survive, and knowing that were you to die, no one would search for your body, few would miss you, hell, they might even spit “good riddance”.

in this situation, to find a friend, is not only friendship, but a rescue.

without dandelion, geralt may have drowned—drowned in solitude, amidst a sea of strangeness.

‘(…) And I’m alone, completely alone, endlessly alone among the strange and hostile elements. Solitude amid a sea of strangeness. Don’t you dream of that?’

No, I don’t, he thought. I have it every day.

because dandelion is not only a bright soul, characteristic rippling laughter and the strum of a lute, but someone who will intently listen to geralt, someone who mutually enjoys his company.

‘(…) you almost jumped out of your pants with joy to have a companion. Until then, you only had your horse for company.’

someone who doesn’t see him as strange and at the fringes of society at all, but as an utterly normal man.

and doesn’t impose demeaning, sappy sympathy onto him, but sobering and realistic “quit your bullshit” which ridicules the very thought that he should internalize societal hatred.

Do you know what your problem is, Geralt? You think you’re different. (…) [You don’t understand that] for people who think clear-headedly you’re the most normal man under the sun, and they all wish that everybody was so normal. What of it that you have quicker reflexes than most and vertical pupils in sunlight? That you can see in the dark like a cat? That you know a few spells? Big deal.

dandelion isn’t “willing” to accept geralt for himself—he already has accepted him. and to him, it’s no difficulty, it’s nothing worth discussing, because he sees no abnormality and no strangeness in him.

while others “prefer the company of lepers to witchers,” dandelion has already offered geralt to share his room and board. not out of sympathetic pity, not out of fetishizing curiosity. because… they’re friends.

and what else does this friendship save him from?

not only from others, but from himself.

worse than enduring others’ apathy and hatred is one’s own thoughts—the darkness and negativity which builds from witnessing and experiencing such behavior.

dandelion’s ability to counter and dispel geralt’s pessimism and self-flagellating tendencies—again, not out of pity, but out of friendship—is undeniably invaluable. someone to rescue you from your darkest thoughts, when you begin to spiral.

and in this darkness, all you can do is cry. you cry, beg for someone to help you, please—

Help! Why doesn't anyone help me? Alone, weak, helpless – I can't move, can't force a sound from my constricted throat. Why does no one come to help me? I'm terrified!

to be alone, the saga reminds us, is worse than a death sentence. to be alone is to “perish; stabbed, beaten or kicked to death, defiled, like a toy passed from hand to hand.” to be alone is to suffer, and to be with someone is to save them from that suffering.

'(…) I wouldn't like anything bad to happen to you. I like you too much, owe you too much-'

'You've said that already. What do you owe me, Yennefer?'

The sorceress turned her head away, did not say anything for a while.

'You travelled with him,' she said finally. 'Thanks to you he was not alone. You were a friend to him. You were with him.'

it is true that geralt has saved dandelion countless times, helped him, gotten him out of some scrape… but to ask what did geralt get in return? are you kidding me?

did you ever consider that it is dandelion who saved geralt?

by being with him. by being by his side. by being his friend.

indeed, dandelion has rescued geralt, countless times, from the yawning jaws of endless loneliness. he’s helped him, chased away the danger of geralt’s own rumination. and he’s gotten him out of scrapes, his own insecurities and bitter helplessness.

so what does dandelion give geralt? what does geralt get from their friendship?

an amusing question. what one gets from friendship is the friendship itself. and that is more than enough.

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {7}

Nessian. Angst. Modern au.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! We hope you continue to enjoy! I'm sorry there was no new chapter last week - I was on vacation! x

Warnings: language.

“You like Gwyn?”

I’m laying on the bench, lifting, while Azriel spots me and Rhys stands near my feet, downing half a bottle of water.

“Seems nice enough,” I say, through clenched teeth. “Genuine.” 

Azriel grabs the bar and guides it back to its resting place. It’s Rhysand that asks, “How’ve things been at home?”

I sit up, running a hand through my sweaty hair before pulling it back. “Weird. Not bad, but different, I guess. It feels like we’re just tiptoeing around each other all the time.”

“You need to fuck,” Rhys says, and Azriel snorts but Rhys is dead serious as he completely contradicts Gwyn’s earlier words. 

Although I understand where Gwyn is coming from, I don’t think Rhys is wrong. Trying not to think of my wife’s naked body, I get a towel to clean off the bench before heading to one of the many treadmills for a run. I figure I’d get a mile in before joining my brothers in the steam room, then it’s home to make dinner for Nesta.

Hopefully we can find something substantial to talk about while we eat. I’m tired of smalltalk, it feels forced and I hate it. Not that it’s bad, it’s just…empty. I miss joking around and not being afraid to say exactly what’s on my mind, but I don’t feel like I can do that now. We’re not there yet. 

“Hey, Cass.”

I look up from the treadmill I’ve just stepped onto to find a familiar face. I give her a lazy smile. “Hey.”

I’ve known Justine for a couple months now, since she’s joined the gym. We’re often here at the same time, both on similar schedules. She’s nice enough, although Rhys and Az think that her showing up when I’m here is no coincidence.

Maybe they’re not wrong.

“Haven’t seen you much this week,” she says, leaning against the equipment. 

“Been busy.” I shrug. “Why? Miss me?”

She rolls her eyes in that way that girls have always rolled their eyes at me, that tells me they’re not really annoyed by anything I say or do. The only woman that’s ever truly been annoyed by me is the one that I married. Maybe that’s one of the things that drew me to Nesta, the fact that I could get under her skin. The tension it created that led to life altering sex.

“Just starting to think that you’re ignoring me,” she says, sweetly, leaning a little closer on the arm of the treadmill. Yeah, I know that move. Her breasts are suddenly a little more on display for only me to see. 

I keep my eyes on hers. Try to, anyway. I mostly succeed. “I would never.”

The smile she gives me is sensual, and it’s all playful fun until she slides a finger up my forearm. I should ask her to stop, but it’s nice to be touched like that. It’s a simple touch, nothing too forward, but behind that touch lies a promise of something more. Rhys is right. I need to fuck. I’m a man, and I’m horny as hell, and my hand has only gotten me so far.

“You almost done here?” Justine asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Why don’t we…get some dinner?”

Her hand is on mine. The reality of what’s before me finally hits me. She doesn’t want dinner. I know what she wants. It’s obvious that food is the last thing on her mind. I pull my hand away and step off the treadmill, despite the fact that I never turned it on. 

“I can’t,” I say, as politely as I can. “I’m sorry.”

She grabs my arm to stop me so I face her, and there’s hardly any room to breathe between us. “Can’t?”

“I’m married,” I say, as if that explains it all.

She looks down at the hand she was just holding. “I’ve never seen a ring.”

“I don’t wear it when I workout,” I say, simply, “but I can go get it from my bag and you can watch me put it back on, if you want.”

The words come out a little hostile and Justine’s eyes narrow. I blame it on the sexual frustration. 

She says, “You’ve been married all this time and flirting with me for months? That’s a dick move, Cass.”

“I haven’t been flirting with you.” I know the words are a lie before they even leave my mouth. 

She knows. “Liar,” she croons, and lays a hand against my chest. “I know you want me, Cass, married or not, I don’t care. Come on. Dinner. At my place.”

I take her hand and push it away, back down to her side. “No, thank you. I—”

I don’t get another word out before an obnoxiously loud smack sounds and my cheek starts stinging.

She fucking slaps me.

People around us all turn to stare as Justine says cocky jackass and storms off. 

My brothers are nowhere to be found, so they must already be hiding in the steam room, which I’m glad of. Otherwise they would never let me live this not-so-proud moment down. 

I send a text to our group chat, letting them know that I���m going to go ahead and go home. In the locker room mirror, there’s a red splotch on my cheek, barely seen beneath my scruff, but I’m hoping it fades quickly. 

No, I don’t want to sleep with Justine.

I would never cheat on my wife, I never have, even at our worst.

But it was really fucking nice to be wanted.

By the time I walk into the house, I have been in my own head for far too long. The house is quiet as I walk in, only setting my nerves on edge. Greg is asleep on the couch in a shaft of late afternoon sun. I scratch his head as I walk by, but he doesn’t even stir and I chuckle under my breath.

Spoiled little shit.

As I ascend the stairs, I see the door to Nesta’s office is closed. For a second, I hesitate as I reach the top stair.

Before I left for the gym, we agreed that we’d have dinner and spend the evening together. Her edits would be done before I got home. She’s been better about limiting the amount of time she spends on her computer, whether that’s writing, editing, planning, or responding to her overflowing inbox. I’ve tried to be more open with my thoughts and feelings. It’s been an awkward few days, but we’re trying. It actually feels like we’re making progress, even after our disaster of a date.

Seeing her office door shut feels like a slap in the face and this one hurts a hell of a lot worse than Justine’s physical one.

My jaw is locked and I’m doing my best not to grit my teeth as I walk by, heading for the shower when I hear her voice through the door.

“They didn’t exactly give me the easiest turn around. They wanted rewrites on multiple chapters in days, Eris. I’ve got a lot going on right now and—”

She was cut off as her absolute dickwad of a manager interrupted her.

I have no clue what he says, but I know it must be bad when Nesta says, “I’m. Trying.”

I know that tone.

People fear that tone. 

Another few seconds of silence goes by, then she says, “I’ll have it done. Alright?...Yeah. Yeah, no, I know, Eris, for fuck’s sake.” Her chair scoots back, and I take that as my cue to keep walking. Yeah, I want to know what’s going on, but if Nesta opens the door to find me while she’s already pissed, I don’t think she’ll like my prying. If she wants to talk about it, she’ll talk about it. 

I take my time in the shower, but by the time I’m down in the kitchen, taking ingredients out of the fridge in my sweatpants, Nesta’s still on the damn phone. I can hear her pacing upstairs. 

After cleaning a heap of green beans, I toss them with salt, olive oil, garlic powder, and parmesan before dropping them into a pan to roast alongside my marinated chicken. I’ve just opened a beer when I hear her office door open and she comes downstairs.

I don’t know what to say in greeting, so I raise my brow. She gives me an apologetic look, that quickly turns into her eyes wandering my body. Yeah, I didn’t wear a shirt for a reason. I want to know if my wife still finds me attractive, and it seems she does.

And I get hot when I cook.

Shirts are irrelevant. 

“I thought I heard you come in.” Her eyes come back to mine. “Sorry, I know I said I’d be done—”

“Is everything okay?” I ask, saving her the trouble of explaining herself. 

“Just, Eris…” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll just get pissed. How was the gym?”

Well, I got slapped in the face. “Good. I think I went a little too hard, though. A little sore. You sure you don’t want to talk about Eris?”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth but shakes her head. “I don’t want to ruin the night with my work issues.”

I set my beer down on the table and walk towards her. She doesn’t move. Even in leggings and an oversized tee, she’s stunning. “Nes, it’s okay to talk to me about your work, especially if that asshole’s being a dick to you.” 

I want to hug her but I don’t.

I want to touch her, to kiss her, but I won’t. 

Gwyn suggested we start with touches, physical contact, anything as long as it isn’t sex, of course, but Nesta hasn’t indicated she’s ready for that.

Hearing that your wife doesn’t want to have sex with you because she’s terrified to get pregnant and miscarry again is hard to hear. I don’t want to push her into anything she isn’t ready for, even if I’m desperate for her touch.

She swallows, looking at my chest, but I’m not sure she’s actually aware that she’s staring at me. “The publishing company asked for two chapters to be completely re-written for one book and four for another. Meanwhile, I’ve got edits I’m still working on for previous submissions and I just…” Shaking her head, she finally meets my gaze. “The timelines they give me aren’t realistic for one woman.”

I don’t hesitate before I speak, knowing my words could set her off, but needing to voice my thoughts.

Time to see if therapy really has taught us anything.

“To be fair, Nes, you set yourself up with some unrealistic expectations. You’ve released what? Three books already this year? And you’ve got how many in the editing process?”

It wasn’t a dig. It wasn’t meant to point out that it was her own fault. It was the truth.

Something I would have said to her before everything went to shit.

With a sigh, Nesta closes her eyes and drops her forehead to my chest. “I know. That’s what he and I have been fighting about. I told him I can’t keep up with this kind of demand and he told me I did it to myself.”

I'm frozen in place. I heard what she said, but I’m floored by the feel of her skin on mine, by the contact that she initiated. I wrap my arms around her before I can second guess myself and rub a hand up and down her back.

“You have to do what’s best for you,” I say, processing what she said. “If he can’t understand that, if he can’t get the publishing company to understand, then fuck him.”

It’s the shittiest advice I’ve ever given, but honestly? My brain is shorting out, feeling Nesta’s body pressed against mine. She fits so perfectly against me, like she was made just for me.

“Easier said than done,” she murmurs, and looks up at me.

I could easily close the distance between us, could easily lean down and kiss her, and I really fucking want to but I contain myself.

At least until her hand comes up to rest on my chest. I brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear and rub my thumb along her cheek. It feels so good to touch her but I’m nervous, worried that I’ll go too far, that I’ll do something wrong and mess up this progress we’ve seemed to make.

I remember now that we’ve been having a conversation but I can hardly remember what it was about much less how to respond. All I can focus on is her hand against my chest. Her being this close is driving me insane to the point that it’s nearly unbearable. I hope she doesn’t look down, doesn’t come closer, doesn’t feel how much such simple contact is affecting me.

Her eyes never leave mine.

Her lips part.

And I open my mouth to say her name, but then the smoke alarm is going off and I’m spewing every foul word in the English language. 

I have no idea how long the food has been in the oven. At this point, I don’t even remember putting it in there.

I turn the oven off, clear the smoke, and reset the smoke alarm while standing on a chair in the kitchen.

And while I do this, Nesta is leaning against the counter, laughing hysterically. I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard her laugh, but hearing it now makes every ounce of anger and embarrassment at ruining dinner disappear.

She’s laughing.

She’s happy.

Even if it’s all while making fun of me, the chef that nearly set the kitchen on fire.

Once her laughter finally dies down, she orders takeout, and we sit on the couch and eat it together, side by side. 

[dukeofdelirium]

"What do you think are x and y’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?"

So, just found this kinda ask for various ships, I was thinking to ask you, if you don't mind and have free time, of course.

For your fav ships: Lawlight, Kataang, Byler or Eremika (feel free to pick whichever you want to answer). 🌻🌷

Hmmm 🤔🤔🤔

For Lawlight, I’d say both of their strengths would be their intelligence. I’d also say a weakness for both is that they are in many ways cut off from other people, whether it’s like L who kind of does so intentionally or Light who puts on a mask for other ppl’s sake. I also think Light has a level of optimism that is extremely beneficial to him, as well as the willpower to do what he wants and to believe he is capable of achieving it, and his optimism isn’t something I see ppl mention a lot in regards to his character, but I view it as a strength. In the same vein, though, his willpower to achieve what he sets out to do is also a weakness, because he either grows bored of things easily once they are no longer challenging or he is too sure of himself. Not that I can really blame his mindset, considering he is a genius who has rarely if ever been challenged before meeting L, so it’s understandable as to why he possesses such a surety of himself. For L, I think his biggest weakness is how blunt he often is, and how it leads people to not cooperate with him, even the investigative team that work with him in canon. He is not an easily approachable individual, which is part of the reason he doesn’t interact with people in person. I also think L similarly has a drive to achieve what he wants just like Light, by any means necessary. We see it time and time again with his willingness to sacrifice people for answers, or with Light’s mock execution, etc. however, this is a double edged sword because that desire to win also creates more hostility

As for what I love about their dynamic? Oh god, I could go on and on. I like how effortlessly they read and understand one another. I like how they speak to each other in very strange almost coded ways. I like how they have this sort of affinity for one another despite being essentially opposing forces or opposite pieces of a chess game. I like that they’re enemies that don’t necessarily hate one another. I like how doomed they are by the narrative. I like that they are intrinsically tied to one another regardless of space, time or death. I like the melancholy to their relationship, the inherent tragedy of it. But most of all I like that they are the only person that has ever or will ever really know the other, and that they both know it but never really speak it. Because to me there is no greater intimacy than being understood.

For Kataang, I’d say one of Aang’s biggest strengths is his willingness to forgive. His compassion and empathy, too, but mainly his ability to forgive. A weakness for him would probably be his difficulty allowing people to show him affection, because it’s something he does struggle with in the show. He tends to bottle up emotions a lot, too, which is a weakness. For Katara, I’d say that her biggest strength is her willingness to help people in need, as well as her drive to be the best version of herself she can be. I’d say a weakness for her is that she has a lot of anger and tends to kind of explode and that said anger was almost a detriment to her.

As for what I love about their dynamic? I love that they balance one another. I love that they are each others best friend and confidant. I love that they really heal one another in a lot of ways through their relationship. I love how supportive they are of one another and how much they trust each other.

I’ll answer what I like dynamic wise about the other ships you listed :)

For Byler, I love that they are also childhood friends like kataang. I just love how much they care about one another, especially how much Mike cares about Will. It’s very sweet 🥹 I also love how easily they work together in the show, how Will really makes Mike feel genuinely loved and valued and how protective Mike is of Will.

For Eremika, I love how much Eren loves Mikasa 😭 I like how much he values her and how he goes from feeling jealous of her strength to valuing and accepting that. It was a really nice thing to see play out. I also love their whole backstory and how they met, and how much it meant to Mikasa. She’s so fiercely protective of him 😭😭😭 they make me emo

Thanks for the ask!! This was so fun :)

[welostutopia]

I posted this on twitter a few days ago but I figured I’d post here as well and expand on it a little bit.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about how each episode of Only Friends is from a different character’s POV, and how we learn whose POV the episode was either because we get a voice over (Sand and Mew’s episodes) or because we see that character isolated in the credits.

I’ve been thinking about how the way a character is portrayed to the audience will be different based on whose POV it is and what the relationship’s are between the episode’s narrator and the other characters, and I felt it the most in episode 6.

So Episode 6 is the first time we really see Sand in a more negative light right? Like he’s aggressive with Top almost as soon as he notices Top is there, and he manipulates both Nick and Ray and uses them as a tool for his revenge. However, in previous episodes Sand is seen as a good friend, a hard worker, someone with strong morals, someone who will put other people over himself, and it got me thinking on what the difference was, and that’s when it hit me, this was Top’s episode, the one character with a known antagonistic relationship with Sand.

Nick and Sand are friends, Nick could be argued to be Sand’s closest friend.

Boston and Sand may not be friends, but it’s obvious that they know each other well enough to tease and joke, and for Boston to mention that Sand’s weed isn’t Sand’s usual stuff.

Mew and Sand know each other the least, but Mew has mentioned that he likes Sand, and ‘thinks he’s lovely’.

Ray and Sand started out as acquaintances and quickly hurtled towards a mutually beneficial relationship based on companionship.

Top and Sand have a painful history, we don’t know the details outside of Top stealing Sand’s boyfriend, but clearly it was painful enough to still effect Sand to this day.

Clearly Nick, Boston, Mew and Ray all have positive feelings of varying degrees towards Sand, and in their episodes we see him in a more positive light. Top has negative feelings towards Sand and it’s the first time we see him in a truly negative light.

This isn’t to say that Sand wasn’t manipulative in Episode 6, or that the events didn’t play out the way that we were shown. However, I do find it interesting that the negative portrayal was in Top’s episode, maybe it’s a coincidence, or maybe Sand’s actions were made to seem worse, that Sand was made to seem more manipulative, because it was Top’s POV.

I think this can also be applied to Ray, while Ray’s portrayal has been a rollercoaster of emotions and ups and downs, there are subtleties in his portrayal each episode. Previously shown as not caring about anything or having much interest in anything aside from alcohol, to being shown as someone who badgers Sand for his attention, actively shows interest in him, and learning more about him, drinks less, expresses that he cares about Sand’s feelings. Now we have his portrayal in Episode 6, agitated, bitter, violent, uncaring who he hurts, completely destructive not only to himself but to others around him. Again, this portrayal is Top’s episode. Top who actively dislikes Ray, and is disliked by Ray in return.

I even noticed that Boston seems that extra bit more uncaring about other’s feelings and emotions in Episode 6, again Top has issues with Boston. We know that Boston is selfish, he’s a narcissist, he wants what he wants and cares little for other people, but it seemed amplified in this episode.

I could be reading too much into things, but everything in this show happens for a reason and I truly think every episode characters are portrayed slightly differently based on whose POV it is each episode, and I feel like it was the most obvious in Episode because of how many people top has hostile relationships with.

[self-shipping-doll13]

Beach Drabble

Wc: 813

It was unusually warm for August.

The skies were clear, the calm grey-blue waters shimmering brightly under the afternoon sun. The gentle lapping of the waves on the shores of Kattegat was soothing to the ear, almost comforting. Gulls wheeled around on the horizon and shrieked shrilly. A soft breeze stirred the fine hairs on my neck, cooling the air and blowing stray strands into my mouth. I half-reclined on the sand, leaning against a driftwood-strewn rock that jutted out of the deserted beach where Ivar sat looking out at the sea with me. His loose braids swayed when a stronger gust picked up on the wind, and his eyes were thoughtful, as if carried away by some strange nostalgia.

“Didn’t I tell you it was good to get away for a while?” I reached up to grasp his leather-bound hand in mine, my thumb brushing over the skin of his knuckles.

“Hm, you were right,” he conceded, and nudged me. “I guess that’s what you want to hear.”

“Because I’m always right.”

“And so modest,” Ivar scoffed. Out of habit, or affection that had become a habit, he lifted my hand to his lips to press a warm kiss to my fingers. It was nice to be alone together, no sounds but the crashing waves, no mingled voices but ours, no other annoyances to disrupt the day. The only irritation was us, in play.

I thought perhaps he did not realise how highly-strung and tense he often was, still basking in the victories he’d achieved to get in this position. But I recognised the signs plainly enough, heard it in his irritated sighs, felt it in the knots I rubbed in his aching muscles. Or perhaps, Ivar felt it too, but I could accuse him of wilfully ignoring it, pushing through it like he’d done with everything in his life. At times like this I thought it healthy to be leaving matters of the throne behind, and going somewhere secluded and peaceful. Unlike him, I had more of a mind for aimless wandering.

“You know, I used to come here a lot. In the Summer before the last,” Ivar confided in me quietly, and his gaze trailed wistfully over the curve of the fjord. “It was a place for me to… Be alone. To think and to look out at the water. See the ships sailing into the port of Kattegat, and then setting out again. I had a feeling I would never get to be on one of those ships.” His grip tightened a little around mine, our hands intertwined.

“I used to be terrified of water, because I…” Ivar soon pivoted to a different topic, playing idly with my fingers. He glanced at me briefly. “Because I can’t swim.”

Past visions flitted behind my eyes like swooping birds. For him, those were memories, and they dimmed his. “Everything was so different then…”

“I did that sort of thing, too,” I told him, and my own recollections were of hostile shores, the endless stretch of a cold blue horizon that met and broke apart. “For different reasons. Or for the same ones.”

I smiled fondly. “So maybe we were looking towards the same place, at each other, from far away.”

“You always like to say things like that.”

“But it could be true,” I insisted, truly believing it.

“Well, I never said that it wasn’t,” Ivar said quietly, and squeezed my hand. After a moment, he cocked his head, leaning forward to peer at me. “Shells?”

Starting, I looked down at the little pile of seashells I’d gathered up in the folds of my dress. There were dark, shiny abalones and tiny, spiralling whelks that I’d picked out of the shingles scattered in the sand. He was too lost in his own thoughts to notice at the time, and by now I’d almost forgotten about them too.

“What are you planning to do with all those?”

“I guess I’m collecting them.” I sifted through the shells absentmindedly and came up with a scallop, its smooth white grooves dusted with lavender, tapering off into a pinkish-orange at the centre, like a sunset. “I’ll use them to make something.” It pleased me to stash away various little trinkets around our chambers. I used to do this in the past; honing in on the world’s natural baubles with the keen, attentive eye of a magpie.

Ivar hummed, sounding faintly amused. It was those fierce eyes, blue on blue, that I knew I’d looked for. “You act like you’re building us a nest.”

When I snorted with laughter, agreeing with him, he released my hand to stroke my cheek. I found comfort in the warmth of his palm. “I like that,” he murmured.

“Well in that case,” I began, standing up and capturing his lips in a lingering kiss. “I’ll go search for some more…”

Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[shsl-heck]

Fuck it we ball. One thing in Worm that makes me absolutely insane is that little bit we get to see of Taylor's relationships with the Chicago Wards. I think a lot of them looked up to her. Not in the way where they wanted to be like her, but she was definitely a strong central figure and leader in their eyes (understandable since she literally managed to get them all out of an Endbringer fight alive). It's even brought up several times that she has such a strong will that it's almost like gravitational pull. People get caught up in the momentum as she barrels forward.

Taylor, though, doesn't seem to realize just what an effect she has on other people; that she's not just needed, but wanted. People care about and want to be closer to her. Anyway, this is all an excuse to talk about the best conversation in all of Worm. It happens just after Scion turns and destroys the UK.

"Grace interrupted my observations. “You’re wearing black.”

I felt a bit of guilt welling. No, guilt wasn’t the right word. I was at peace with my decision.

I just felt a little ashamed that I hadn’t been more upfront about it, with the people I’d spent years working with.

“Yeah.”

“I suppose you’re not going to get around to having that meeting with the PRT guys, getting yourself moved up from the Wards to the Protectorate? Unless I’m reading too much into the costume choice.”

“You’re not,” I said. “No, I suppose I’m not going to have that meeting.”

“Is it that we failed with the Jack thing?”

“That’s not the entirety of it,” I said.

“But it’s part of it, right? Isn’t that unfair? We had, like, a four percent chance of success going in, and we didn’t stop it from coming to pass, so you bail?”

“I said it’s only part of it,” I repeated myself.

“I know,” she said. I could see Tecton and Rachel pause, catching something in Grace’s tone.

When Grace and I remained silent, they resumed. “…the cross species interactions…”

“…the cross species interactions.”

“I know,” Grace said, after a pause. “I get that. I get that there’s other reasons. Like the fact that you love those guys and you never loved us. Cool. Makes sense.”

“I liked you guys.”

“But you didn’t love us.”

“No,” I said."

Apologies for the long quote, but this is one of my favorite moments in Worm. Taylor has known these people, fought side by side with them, for way longer than she ever did the Undersiders! But she still doesn't love them. Tbh I get the sense that she doesn't even really care about them that much more than she would any random person off the street. (Golem is maybe an exception here, but I'd argue that's mostly bc he has an important role in Jack ending the world). It's not like the Chicago Wards were hostile to her. It certainly seems like they tried to include her. How many meals shared, offers to hang out, times saving each other, attempted conversations, over those years did it take for Grace and the others to finally realize what she said in that quote? Taylor could tolerate them, maybe even like them, but she was never going to love them, never going to be their friend. What impact must that have had on them as a team? With the Undersiders, Taylor was kind of the central figure. I never got the sense that the l11others really hung out or were friends other than their relationship to Taylor. In the Wards, it's the opposite no matter how hard the team tries to bond with her.

Idk, I don't have that much insight into this moment. The difference could be because she was in a much worse place when she met the Undersiders and/or was too focused on her goal to bond with the Wards, but again I don't have a ton to say. This little glimpse into the inner workings of the Chicago Wards just emotionally devastates me for some reason I can't quite articulate.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tti episode 13

warning: this chapter contains content that may be triggering for those with emetophobia, or those who are easily grossed out! please proceed with caution

“Last time, on Total Takes Island: the teams- or what’s left of them, anyway- competed in an all-out extreme sports challenge. The ever-failing Fujoshis finally secured themselves a win due to Julia’s sabotage backfiring and stunning the team with Austin’s surprisingly well-built bod. Ultimately, a distracted Courtney sent him flying and sent him home. Who will almost die today? And who will survive to see the merge? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Island!”

An air of anxiety hangs around the mess hall as the few remaining campers enter. Kelly looks tired, dejected, even a little slouchy despite their normally perfect posture, though they lead both teams in like a war hero into battle. 

Staci follows, attempting to comfort their friend with sweet nothings as Julia and Scruffy both listen in on their conversation, the former whispering what to write down as the latter takes notes. Michael is next, Max close behind. Both refuse to look at each other, expressions of pure contempt on their faces whenever they cross paths. 

McLovin stays between Courtney and Bonnie, nervously using both of them as a shield from Michael. Scary is last, skipping along merrily. 

Julia turns around, watching them hum to themselves. “How is that thing still in the running?”

Scruffy shrugs. “Scary's been flying under the radar, doing well at challenges when need-be. Plus, there’s always someone more hate-able in the running, right?”

“Right. Well, at least that other clown is gone,”

Kelly’s head whips around and they glare sharply, sending a shiver through Julia as the teams take their seats as Chris had instructed over the intercom that morning. 

“Congratulations, remaining ten campers! It’s honestly a miracle most of you have made it this far,” Chris pauses, looking between Staci and Scary. “Nonetheless, you’ve all reached the halfway point in the competition! Next week is our merge, which means our remaining two teams will become one, and it’s everyone for themselves. But for today’s episode, we have a little twist for you.”

Chef comes out of the kitchen, holding a set of cue cards. “Your teams today will be split into two new ones: team #1 will be Bonnie, Julia, Scary, Kelly, and Scruffy. Team #2 will be Michael, McLovin, Max, Staci, and Courtney. I’d rearrange yourselves now- things are about to get messy,” he shakes his head, walking into the kitchen. 

The campers stare at each other in a mix of shock and terror. Staci clutches Kelly’s hands. “No! You can’t separate us, I won’t allow it!”

Chris rolls his eyes and a few interns run in, grabbing Staci’s arms and dragging her over to the other side of the room. Courtney gives Bonnie a nervous wave goodbye and walks ahead while McLovin lags behind, looking pale. 

Michael glares at him, then at Max, who glares back. Julia cheers, much to Michael’s annoyance, and hugs Scruffy. 

---

MICHAEL: “You know, I’m starting to get a little fed up with that two-faced fake-blonde freak.”

---

“Well, I guess we’re stuck together,” Michael sighs. 

Max rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to sound so pissed about it, it’s one challenge,” 

“One challenge too many,”

“Oh, what? Mad that your little friend found someone better?” Max snaps, looking in Julia and Scruffy’s direction. “For once, I can’t even say I blame her.”

“Eat me,”

Staci ignores the commotion, picking at their nails while looking forlornly across the room. McLovin and Courtney look between the two as they argue, the former somewhat relieved that the hostility isn’t directed towards him, the latter just confused. 

Julia watches the scene from across the room, smiling slightly. 

---

JULIA: “Honestly, I cannot believe I wasted so much time and energy fighting over Michael when Scruffy was right here. I guess I should keep her on my side for the merge, but still… all that drama for what? A chick who can’t do anything but whine and argue? Um, yeah, I’ll take my chances with the egghead.”

---

She turns to Scruffy. “Still allies after the merge?” she smiles sweetly, holding out a hand. 

They nod, shaking it. “For sure,” and then they return to taking down notes. 

“If you’ll look at your table, you’ll notice there’s no breakfast! Worry not, you’ll be eating soon,” Chris continues, pacing around the room. “Oh, and this is also a non-elimination challenge, so worry not about failing! The winners, however, will be treated to a weekend cruise!”

Most of the camper’s jaws drop. 

---

KELLY: “Austin would’ve loved that…”

---

STACI: “I really like the idea of a cruise- or anything to get me away from here, TBH- but what’s the point if I don’t have anyone to enjoy it with? I mean, have you seen my team? You might as well call us the haters!”

---

Bonnie packs up their final things, giving Courtney a small wave goodbye before holding their breath in anticipation and walking to Team 1’s cabin. 

They open the door, peering inside, and seeing no one. Breathing a sigh of relief, they set their bag down on an empty bed and smile just as something grabs their ankle from below. They scream. 

“WHAT-”

Scary somersaults out from under the bed. “This one’s mine. You get Michael’s,” they grin wickedly, pointing to an upper bunk across the room. Bonnie swallows a lump in their throat and nods, walking over to an unmade but vacant bed. 

Kelly walks inside seconds after in a towel, fresh out of the communal showers. They sit on their bed and begin their usual post-shower routine, lotioning their legs and dousing themselves in perfume. Bonnie coughs. 

Julia storms in seconds later. “WHO ate my gummy worms?”

Bonnie jumps, startled, and then looks around the room. Everyone else ignores her. 

“Um, freak! I’m talking to you!” she says, pointing an accusing finger in Scary’s direction. 

Scary sticks her tongue out and sits next to Kelly, leaving Bonnie completely alone on the other side of the room. “I know you took them!” Julia says. 

Kelly smiles at Scary. “I love your nails,”

“It’s blood,” Scary grins back, wiggling their bright red fingers. “Don’t worry, it’s not mine,”

“You! Goth-y!” Julia snaps, pointing at Bonnie. “Where are my gummy worms?”

They roll their eyes. “Jesus, calm down, queen bee” 

Julia steps closer, getting in Bonnie’s face. “Watch it,”

“Oh, God,” Kelly murmurs, sighing dramatically. 

“Ugh, you're all such drags! I’m staying in Scruffy’s side of the cabin!” Julia huffs, storming outside.

Bonnie blinks. “Is she… always like that?”

“Um… I suppose so,” Kelly shrugs. “I just tune her out.” Scary nods along in agreement. Bonnie raises an eyebrow. 

---

Michael finishes unpacking their things in their new cabin, looking between Courtney and Staci every few moments as everyone struggles to find something to talk about. 

Finally, Courtney gives in. “Let’s… um, go outside, I think the guys are already waiting for us,”

The other two murmur in agreement and follow them out, where, sure enough, McLovin and Max are standing on opposite sides of the porch. 

“Ready?” Courtney smiles. Max glares, surprising them slightly and forcing them to take a step back, like he might bite them. 

“Let’s just try not to lose,” he says, walking off. Courtney jogs after him, trying to catch up. 

“You know, for someone with short legs, you walk really fast,” they chuckle. 

Max turns and gives them a stare so icy it feels like a bite. Courtney moves away from him. 

---

COURTNEY: “So, I was sort of a team leader for the Fujos, which are now dissolved, and I’m pretty sure this guy Max was leading the Anons. Some kind of agreement to share power is in order, but I don’t want to step on any toes here, so I thought- hey, what’s the worst thing that could happen from talking it out?” 

---

McLovin, Michael, and Staci lag behind, with the latter conveniently placed between the two as they rattle on about something Michael isn’t really listening to. 

“And that’s how my uncle Steve started his own magic supply franchise,” she nods, finishing the story with a confident smile. 

“Wow, your family is really awesome,” McLovin smiles. “My dad is just a stupid lawyer.”

“You’re always welcome to-”

“Is any of what you say actually true, or are you just making things up for your game?” Michael cuts in, crossing her arms. 

Staci frowns and lowers their eyes at her. “Kinning isn’t a game. And for the record, I don’t lie,”

“Really?”

They huff and speed up, leaving Michael and McLovin behind. He stares at her. “You know, you didn’t have to be so mean…”

Michael glares at him. “I just have a certain distaste for liars,” and then she disappears up ahead. 

---

“Today’s challenge is a personal favorite of mine- hell, what am I saying, they’re all personal favorites!” Chris laughs, tossing away the clipboard in his hands. It flies out the window and hits an intern in the head. “Now, normally, I’d find telling you all delightful, but I’m going to let our less-annoying Sierra take it away!”

Scruffy sighs, then steps up. “Today’s challenge is the brunch of disgustingness. We’ll be eating a nine course meal of the nastiest, grossest foods Chef can cook up. If I remember correctly, and if the recipes haven’t changed… let’s hope you guys have strong stomachs,”

---

SCRUFFY: “Oh, I’ve built up a tolerance to pretty much everything by now,” they say, counting the following on their fingers. “Bugs, poison, mud, blood, rocks, metal scraps, raw meat, moldy cheese, snot, spit, pre-chewed gum, flesh-like substances, glass- you name it, I’ve eaten it. The only thing I really can't stand is seeing other people vomit. As long as I focus on eating and don't think about throwing up, I should be fine!"

---

Julia frowns, scooching closer to Scruffy as they step back into the crowd and holding their hand. “Coach me through this?”

“Um… yeah, for sure,”

Michael watches the two with a deep frown and turns to her own team, surveying the options- McLovin is weaving a braid out of a few strings hanging from his shirt, Staci is biting their cuticles off, and Max-

“Don’t even think about it,”

That settles that. Michael steps next to Courtney, standing side-by-side with them as they look longingly at Bonnie alone on the other team. 

“Each member of each team must finish each dish to win., Chris chuckles. “Chef, the first course, if you please!”

Chef wheels out a cart of covered dishes, and sets each at a place at the tables. The contestants sit with their respective teams. “You may now, dig in!”

Scruffy sighs and takes the metal cover off of the dish, revealing a handful of tiny sausage-like substances underneath. They turn to Julia. “Tune everything else out,”

“What? Why?”

“Trust me on this. These are just… cold sausages,” Scruffy holds one up, popping it into their mouth and chewing with ease. “See? No big deal.”

“Just cold sausages?”

“German, I think,”

Julia sighs, and then begins eating. Across the room, Michael turns to Courtney, who’s already downed half their plate. They follow suit, though eating at a much slower pace. McLovin chews while listening to Staci ramble on through a mouthful of food, and Max completely ignores the commotion altogether. 

“Um…” Bonnie says, poking one with their fork. It makes a wet squishy noise. “What’re these?”

Scruffy covers Julia’s ears. Chris grins. “Oh, nothing, just a little beef testicle,”

A pale look crosses their face and they push away the plate. “Um… no, thank you,”

“Yeah, this doesn’t seem friendly for my diet?” Kelly says nervously, holding up a finger. “I’m not supposed to have processed red meat.”

“Oh, these aren’t processed,” Chris smiles. “They’re au naturale!”

Kelly looks squeamish. Scruffy uncovers Julia’s ears, still eating. Scary unhinges their jaw and swallows the tiny meats whole. 

“Ew, how can you do that?” Bonnie asks. “All at once? Beef testicle?”

“NO-” Scruffy starts, but it’s too late. Julia goes pale. “What?”

She stands and runs outside to throw up, which makes Scruffy follow suit. Bonnie and Kelly wince. 

Michael finally finishes her dish. 

“And this round goes to Team #1!” Chris announces. “Our next dish… pizza!”

The campers all collectively look at each other, suspiciously. 

“Jellyfish with live grasshoppers and anchovies,” Scruffy says, sitting back down with Julia, looking a bit dizzy. “I’ve tried it before, it’s not so bad!”

Chef distributes the platters, and everyone on Team #2 looks between each other as Michael stares in horror. 

---

MICHAEL: “Fish! Why did it have to be fish?!”

---

“Um… you want us to eat bugs?” Staci asks. “I mean, my great-grea-”

“They’re still alive!” McLovin shouts in terror. “I can’t eat them, it’d be wrong!”

“Are you really valuing the life of a bug over a win?” Max snaps. 

“Yes- no- I mean, I don’t know!”

Michael looks pale. Courtney notices and attempts to comfort her, putting a hand on her shoulder before hearing McLovin yelp and running over to hold him down while Max force-feeds him. 

Across the room, Team #1 is eating with no problem, everyone listening in as Scruffy describes the protein in the pizzas to Kelly. 

Scary giggles. “Mm, cheesy…”

“And…. Team #1 wins!” Chris announces. “You two are currently even. But what will this next round bring?” he grins as Chef wheels out the next dish. “That’s earthworm spaghetti with snail slime sauce, topped with some amazing gourmet hairballs!”

Chef grins. “Made it from scratch,”

“O-okay, we can do this,” Courtney says as the bowls are distributed. They begin chowing down, garnering looks of terror from their teammates. 

“If you just close your eyes and say “purple” while you’re eating, it’ll taste like beans!” Scruffy says merrily. “Learned it from a Buddhist monk while I was traveling in Nepal. See? Purple!” they swallow a bite with ease. 

---

SCRUFFY: “Yeah, I made that up. I've never even been out of the province. But we weren’t getting anywhere without help, so…”

---

Julia closes her eyes and takes a bite. “Purple!”

A round of “purple”s continue from Team #1’s table, as Team #2 watches on nervously. McLovin takes a slow bite, chewing in abject horror as Staci watches nervously. Michael follows, not wanting him to outpace her, and takes two bites before coughing, a hairball flying back onto the table. 

“Team #1! Two points!” Chris grins. “Our next dish is a staple in every classy restaurant- soup! Today’s special is French bunion with hangnail crackers and a chewy used-bandaid topping!”

Scruffy looks around for a moment before pulling the large straw from the glasses of water the contestants were provided (at Chris’ mercy). Their team watches, grins and nods, doing the same and slurping down their soup in no time. 

“Three points for Team #1, thanks to Scruffy!”

The team cheers, Julia especially loud. Michael glares, and turns to Courtney. “We gotta do something,” 

“Our next dish is a delightful chewed-gum salad,” Chef smiles, pulling a wad of white gum from his mouth and garnishing a dish with it before setting that in front of McLovin, who pales. 

Across the room, Scruffy grins confidently. 

“Okay, remember earlier when Julia barfed?” Michael mutters. “And Scruffy lost it like two seconds after?”

“Oh, shoot, you’re right. One of us has to barf to throw them off,” Courtney whispers back. “But who’d be willing to do that…?”

Michael sighs and turns to McLovin, already green. “Hey, we… need your help,”

Scruffy swallows each piece of gum with ease, the rest of the team following suit. Suddenly, McLovin rises to his feet, runs over to their corner of the room and vomits on the floor. 

“Nasty!” Chris shouts, turning just in time to see Scruffy turn greener than their hair and do the same. “Nastier!”

Scruffy runs out of the mess hall and into the confessional, holding their mouth until the door slams shut. The rest of the team winces as the sounds of violent groaning and liquid sloshing around follow. 

“Team #2, congratulations, that’s two points!” Chris beams as Courtney encourages McLovin to finish his dish. Scruffy walks back inside seconds later, paler than the white of the plates. 

Chef rolls his cart back out, carrying skunk-juice smoothies which are distributed amongst the campers with a grin. The Anons nod at each other, everyone having become aware of the plan through simple observation. Staci takes the dive next, bringing down Scruffy again. 

Three points for Team #2. 

Four points for #2 as Scruffy becomes paler and paler, dizzier and dizzier. Julia attempts to coach him. “Stop vomiting!” She screams as Michael runs out with a grin. 

Scruffy can’t hold it in anymore, and weakly coughs up some water. “Okay, that’s enough,” Bonnie says, moving to the bench across from the two. “We need to get something solid in you,”

Chef rolls out course number 8- a garbage-inspired stew. Bonnie winces. “Julia, do you think you could-?”

“On it,” she says, holding Scruffy still while Bonnie uses one hand to cover their eyes and the other to force spoonfuls of garbage into their mouth. They move at a rapid speed, both Bonnie and Julia eating while feeding Scruffy. 

“That’s another point for Team #1!” Chris shouts. “We’re at a tie- which makes this last dish the penultimate decider… dolphin dogs!”

Chef rolls out the final cart. Max raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get it. What’s the catch?”

Pan over to McLovin and Staci, who are in tears. “B-b-but… my mom’s third cousin trains dolphins, I can’t eat them!”

McLovin whimpers, holding his head in his hands and pushing away his plate. Courtney frowns and runs over to their side of the table to calm him down, leaving Michael alone. 

“I’m with them on this. I can’t eat a dolphin!” Kelly says while Scary chows down next to them. “Isn’t that cruel?”

“What’s cruel is losing the challenge because you’re too baby to eat some fish!” Julia snaps. 

Michael goes pale. “Fish?”

“Mammals,” Max corrects her. “And don’t feel bad about it. They’re known to be some of the most vile creatures alive.”

“Yeah?” she says, still wide-eyed and shaking. 

“Terrible. Murderers, rapists, you name it,” he says, taking a casual bite. “They’re like if you took the worst parts of humanity and made that a species. Just horrible.”

“But… they’re not fish?”

“No. They’re warm-blooded,” he continues. “I’m pretty sure this is healthier than whatever they put in normal hot dogs, too.”

Michael smiles slightly before taking a cautious bite. “Thank you,”

---

MAX: “I wasn’t trying to help her, I was just correcting her. There’s a difference.”

---

Bonnie finishes the dog and turns to Kelly, the only member of the team who hasn’t touched their plate yet. 

They turn, watching as Courtney manages to encourage Staci to take a bite, and then look back. “Hey, Kelly? Your boyfriend got voted out last week, right?”

Kelly nods. 

“Well… when I’m in a tough place, I ask myself what my best friend Caesar would do,” Bonnie says encouragingly. Julia rolls their eyes. 

“Isn’t it kind of stupid to follow the ways of a player who got eliminated?” she asks. Bonnie slams their fist on the table and glares at her. 

Julia seems taken aback for a moment, and then stands, scoffing and dragging Scruffy behind her out the door. 

Kelly thinks to themselves. “What would Austin do…? What would Austin do…? Austin would… he wouldn’t care about anything but having a good time, and- he’d want to enjoy this dog!” they say affirmatively, taking a bite. 

Bonnie cheers them on, watching between them and McLovin as he takes the tiniest bite of his dolphin sausage while Courtney massages his shoulders. 

---

BONNIE: “Do I miss Courtney? Yeah, of course. I could do without McLovin, but the team we had- when we weren’t losing, anyway- was really solid. At least from my perspective,”

---

The two remaining players cautiously eat their hot dogs as the teams look back and forth between them. A tear rolls down McLovin’s cheek. Kelly hums a groovy tune. 

Bonnie is the only team member left cheering as everyone else has disappeared when Kelly finishes first. 

“Team #1 has secured the win, and the weekend getaway!” Chris shouts. The other group groans, and stands, walking away. 

---

Scruffy and Julia sit in the far reaches of the island, looking over Scruffy’s journal as the sun sets. 

“What’s that?” Julia asks, seemingly every few minutes as they leaf through the book. 

“I’m not sure. I think it’s a squirrel with horns, but it’s impossible to properly identify anything,” Scruffy shrugs, setting the book away. “I’m not sure what it means, yet, but I’m gonna find out what’s happening on this island.”

“Ok, you do that,” Julia says before resting her head on their shoulder. “Tell me what you find.”

“I’ll try to remember,” they smile. 

Scary scampers through the canopy, chasing bats as the sun disappears. 

---

“Ok, whoever keeps leaving these things around is starting to get on my last nerve!” Max shouts, throwing a bundle of flower garlands out the window of the cabin. “Bugs, people!”

Staci shouts back from outside. “Well, excuse me for trying to lighten the atmosphere! I can’t help being the great-great granddaughter of a Parisian interior decorator!”

“Oh, yes you can!” Max yells before slamming the window shut. McLovin watches from a bunk across the room and opens his mouth to say something, but he’s immediately silenced. 

“Don’t even get me started on you, pool noodle,” Max says as he walks outside, slamming the door behind him. 

Michael is sitting on the steps of the porch, staring in the direction of the campfire pit. Max sits across from her, the two shooting occasional glares but neither having the energy to argue. 

After a while, Michael takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, resting her chin on her knees, which are pulled close to her chest in a defensive posture. Max stares. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is it going to be mean?”

“Depends,”

Michael thinks for a moment. “Yeah, okay,”

“Michael… that isn’t your real name, is it?”

She pauses, looking back up. “Um… no, it’s just something McLovin started calling me when he showed up. I didn’t even really choose it myself,” she smiles a bit. “And the funny thing is, he didn’t even use it. He called me Mikey for the longest time, and I hated it.”

“Yeah... I don’t blame you. What’s your real name, then?”

She seems to hesitate for a moment, listening to the sound of crickets and Chef shouting at the raccoons who broke into the kitchen again. Finally, she speaks. “Michela,”

Max thinks for a moment. “That’s a lot better than Mikey,”

“Hah, I guess,” Michael says, standing. “But it’s fine, I don’t want to bother with arguing over it. And if you think this is gonna be something more to torture me over, fire away, I’m used to it.”

She walks off into the cabin, closing the door behind her. Max sighs for a moment, holding his head in his hands before turning and seeing McLovin watching him through the window with a slightly frustrated expression. 

[ask-the-royal-absol]

Snow@Destini The AI walked up to the absol, she did not seem happy… “If the surface is in trouble, it is your fucking responsibility as a leader to go up there and help so go up there before I drag your sorry ass there myself!”

Destino: Because I’d love to see what authority you have over me. Besides, why help the Pokémon that keep us down here? When have they ever been a help to us? Get rid of them all, I say.

*You can see Theif almost tense up at that statement. Her emotions bubbling up. She’s usually cool and collected in these situations. Why was this Pokémon getting to her so much?*

Theif: Oh I dunno. Maybe the hundreds of years that Terrestria has been providing the Underdark resources for their survival is an example?! You know not all Pokémon are hostile towards your Pokémon! Some actually choose to help them! King Flint actively wants to help your Pokémon because he knows that they aren’t awful. He knows how cruel it is to keep you all trapped down here!

Destino: Whoa, calm down there. Seems I struck a nerve. What do you mean by Terrestria providing resources for hundreds of years?

*she calms a slight bit. Looks like Destino has some curiosity about the surface after all. Perhaps she could use that to convince them. She takes a deep breath before speaking.*

Theif: Yes. Our two kingdoms have been helping each other for roughly 500 years at this point. We give food and other supplies in exchange for ores and access to your mining caves.

Destino: But we don’t have any mining caves. I mean, not ones to actively mine ores. Every Pokémon knows how dangerous it is to mine near clumps of evolutionary ores.

Theif: That’s what happens though. Luckily rock types are resistant to the effects of the untreated ores. That’s how your parents have been able to get evolutionary stones for the Underdark. You know, I don’t think Terrestria would be nearly as friendly with the other Kingdoms if they didn’t have access to your ores. Gotta thank the Underdark for opening that up for us.

Destino: I’m just gonna call you a liar and end this conversation here. Clearly you’ve made this all up to force me to want to save your kingdom. I’m not falling for it.

*You notice Destino considering her words in their head, taking a moment to think. They then speak with a tone of voice that almost has some genuine undertones in it, a rarity for the Absol.*

Destino: But…perhaps I may want to find out more about this “Terrestria” later.