#because star wars tends to hurt me

[lovebugism]

hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷

ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)

You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.

Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.

He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them. 

“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.

Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”

The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?” 

Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.

So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”

“Do you have them here?” she wonders.

Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”

“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.

He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.

But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.

You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.

That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.

Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”

“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”

Your brows pinch. “What girl?”

“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.

“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.

“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”

You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache. 

“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself. 

Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”

You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”

“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”

For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.

And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?

A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.

“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper. 

The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”

“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”

“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.

“Your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.

The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.

Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”

The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.

He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.

“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.

Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”

You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.

“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?” 

He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong. 

“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.

A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”

“No.” 

“Then what?”

You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”

He laughs before he means to. “What?”

“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”

Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”

“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.

Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them. 

“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief. 

“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”

“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.

“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”

Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”

“What’s that called again?”

“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.

“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ��til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”

“Steve.”

“I love you.”

“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”

“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”

Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.

[gffa]

When Sol said that he felt a connection to Osha, when he felt that she was meant to be his Padawan, Indara's response was to make sure he wasn't confusing what he wanted with what the Force wanted, and that's it, that's exactly it! Sol's statement isn't criticized because that kind of destiny doesn't exist--it pretty clearly does, sometimes people are meant to be Master and Padawan, they're drawn together by the Force, that's a thing the Force does in Star Wars, that's part of the worldbuilding that exists. It's criticized because Indara isn't sure that he's not bringing his own baggage to this, as that's something that often happens. The Force is not separate from a Jedi, it's not a tarot card that you read, it's a mystical energy Force that works based on your emotions, that's why the Jedi strive to be as selfless and careful and calm as they can, so that they're not putting their own feelings into the Force and saying that's what the Force wants. Who knows if Sol was right that the Force was pulling him towards Osha, I tend to think he was feeling something very genuine there, but that tragedy struck and it all went horribly wrong, dealing Osha a wound that she could never quite recover from. But also he did desperately want it and was reckless in going about it, he was unbalanced in a deeply understandable way, a way that he could just spend some time looking inward and rebalance, it's not like he was in grave danger, just a misstep that happens to any Jedi, it's normal, it happens, you recover and you find your footing again, that's what Jedi do. And that's why Jedi have to be so careful, because it's so easy to confuse what you want with what the Force is guiding you towards. It's so easy to center on your own anxieties and think the Force is warning you of a danger, when it's just your own thoughts. It's so easy to think this person was meant for you, because you care about them, and you move too fast and people get hurt. Which got me thinking about how often Masters choose the Padawan in canon, because that makes sense, too, with how hard it is to really center yourself and to be able to perceive what is what you want versus what the Force is guiding you towards. How a younger Jedi may not have the same amount of experience at that Perceiving Yourself that a Master or even a Knight would have. That Indara doesn't say Sol can't be drawn to Osha, the Force doesn't work that way, says a lot about how the Jedi and the Force work, but also the show really nailed that you have to be careful with that, it's not a magic crystal ball that you can read with impartiality no matter what mood you're in or what you wish would happen. But you need to understand yourself and what you want is something that's at the root of Jedi philosophy and action.

[manytoonepoet]

Whenever I listen to a song, a few lines tend to stand out to me, and Hala CG's "Gambler" was no exception, with those lines being: "But they don't see the hand clutching on for dear life. They don't see the man as he tries, and he tries to stand tall." — with those lines being a brief yet concise summarization of how we view characters and the people around us.

Example, number one example, is the man of the song himself, Aventurine. I've already talked about this in detail in this post of mine, which I made a while back, and I highly recommend checking it out if you wish to know more, but I'll summarize it here: The way the majority of people view Aventurine is simply disgusting; they only ever care about who he is gay for or what is in his pants, and while shipping and having your own interpretations about a character is absolutely alright, oversimplifying and forcing one's headcannons compromises the true essence of the character — you might as well create a new character of your own with how many changes you've made to this one as you claim that they are this or that, and more often that not, these unnecessary and unwanted changes disrespect the original intent of the source material. A lot of these people forget, or simply choose to ignore, what Aventurine has gone through and mold him to their headcannons and push those headcannons down people's throats because they despise the fact that not everyone sees Aventurine as a submissive, masochistic, gae man for Dr. Ratio and instead enjoy and learn about a character instead of focusing on who's gae for whom and who's not. They despise the fact that people see and admire Aventurine for his resilience, his perseverance, his bravery, his intelligence, his thought process, and his strategy — they acknowledge and admire all that and more, and it is such a shame that too many people don't.

But Miss Poet, I hear you say, if you've already talked about this, then why bring it back again? Can't you just let it go? It's done! Well, Rat Urine is back just in a different outfit → Phaidei.

Again, I will restate it just in case you missed it: Shipping, having headcannons, and having your own interpretations about a character is absolutely alright so long as it doesn't compromise the true essence of a character.

But me, personally, I dislike the notion of shipping in HSR mainly because I believe romance could potentially kill or somewhat lessen the impact of their main story theme of trailblazing. This group of people is made up of the lost, the broken, and the hurt, yet even as they wander amongst the stars, they're never alone because they have the people that they have formed bonds with along the way, and more people to encounter in the future. HSR's journey is that—a journey, one that is symbolic of real life, funnily enough. Because in real life, we love (or at least are supposed to). We love and we uphold hope and we create relationships with that love and hope, relationships that aren't inherently romantic. In fact, I'm quite proud of Hoyo for giving Mydei and Phainon such a deep and emotional bond because what I personally see in media usually involves strong female friendships rather than male ones, and I believe we need more of this kind of friendship and brotherhood as well.

And I believe THAT is what's heartwarming about Amphoreus' story — this group of people is brought together by loss and pain and war and death, and all of that made them appreciate the bond and camaraderie present within their little group. They understand that they will reach their doom soon, sooner than they might think, even. But even then, they still took the time to bond and grow closer to each other instead of shutting everyone out because, at the end of the day, they only have each other, don't they? They only have each other to rely on, and they're the only hope Amphoreus has left. If they crumble and fall apart, what will be of Amphoreus? They are the soldiers sent to the frontlines to protect the innocent and secure even the slightest bit of hope that there will be a future for everyone else, even if they won't be there to see it. In fact, speaking of soldiers, they often form exceptionally close bonds due to the unique and intense circumstances they share. The combination of high-stakes missions, reliance on one another for survival, and extended time together in challenging environments fosters deep trust and camaraderie. Shared experiences—like training, combat, or long deployments—create a sense of brotherhood or sisterhood that can surpass typical friendships. However, the strength of these bonds varies based on individual personalities, unit dynamics, and the intensity of shared experiences. Some soldiers may not form close friendships due to personal differences or shorter service periods, but for many, these relationships become profound and enduring.

Take this post however you want to, call me names, slurs, throw insults my way, but I simply wish to provide another perspective and to bring something new to the table because when I see Mydei and Phainon together, I don't wonder about who is top or who is bottom, I don't wonder about what positions they prefer or what places they enjoy doing it. Because when I see Phainon and Mydei, I see the bond eloquently described by the lovely people in the pictures on top, I see the bond I wish to grow and nurture with my own best friend too.

And no, I'm not criticizing anyone for liking this ship, I'm not acting nor do I see myself as someone above the rest of you, but I simply wish the fandom wasn't so quick to label them as gay or have their entire character be oversimplified as someone's gae submissive malewife or someone's dominant daddy... HSR has such an emotional and nuanced storytelling, one that talks about these kinds of relationships so well, and I just wish the fandom could appreciate it as it is, rather than twist it into something that it is not.

Because, yes, a lot of people here don't see the hand clutching on for dear life. They don't see the man as he tries, and he tries to stand tall.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Thunder Couple ⚡ | Bucky Barnes

Marvel Masterlist

note: Just saw Thunderbolts* today in theaters and all I can say is Marvel cooked with this one. It's the best MCU movie in a while (up there with GOT3 post-Endgame) and the overall theme/messages throughout the film were portrayed so well. And I nearly jumped out of my seat during the second post-credit scene I mean I literally almost lost it. Anyway, I'm might even see it again tomorrow and y'all already know I'm sat for Fantastic Four First Steps. Get ready for some Thunderbolts* headcanons these next couple chapters.

content warnings: spoilers for Thunderbolts*!! (scroll if you haven't seen it yet!) overall major fluff

-------------------------

Being in a relationship with Bucky Barnes while also being a Thunderbolt* would look like:

Having been a CIA operative turned rogue hitman for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, you were 'a guest' in her little cleanup operation that ultimately resulted in your unorthodox team-up with fellow anti-heroes that in turn became the Thunderbolts*/New Avengers. Falling in love with former Winter Soldier turned Congressman Bucky Barnes was not in the plan, but hey you can't help what the heart wants.

The others constantly tease y'all and will be like "uh oh, mommy and daddy are fighting again," whenever you two argue during a mission or while planning an attack. Bucky is headstrong and stubborn, but you're the only one who can really get through that hard head of his. He respects you so much that honestly, there's no point in arguing, he's gonna do what you think is best. 

Couples that throw hands against bad guys together, stay together. The two of you are an unstoppable duo when it comes to missions--watching each other's six, throwing weapons for the other to catch, throwing each other if it's necessary. "Babe, I know you're a super soldier and all, but can you try to be a little gentler when I ask you to toss me across the platform?" 

Staying up late in the tower's penthouse going over files which just ends being you two cuddled on the couch watching a Met's game if it's on or catching Bucky up on another movie he missed out on. Star Wars, the Godfather, The Matrix, the Equalizer, Grease, etc. He's got so many questions and anytime you watch an action movie the man is criticizing the fighting technique. 

You train together most days although the man tends to hold himself back because he's afraid of hurting you with his strength. and he's not available then you usually train with Yelena and Ava while he, John and Alexi do their super soldier showdowns. At that point you three just watch and take bets on who wins. Of course, your money is on Bucky. 

Bucky will put his arm in the dishwasher to clean and you'll discover it when you go to load the dishwasher. "Bucky! Is your arm clean to your liking or do you want me to give it another spin?" "Another spin, darling, thanks!"

If his hair gets too long, you'll offer to give him haircuts because he's too damn lazy to do it himself or go to a barber saying, "We've got more important things to worry about than my hair."  It gets to a point that after his millionth complaint you simply grab his arm and push him into the chair yourself. "Your ass is staying here until I'm done and if you get up while I'm working then it's your fault for the fuck ass hairdo you'll be rocking from here on."

Expect harsh kisses filled with relief after a job completed. Especially if there was a close call involving you. Bucky will grab your face in his hands and practically push you off your feet by the force of his lips claiming your own. And he doesn't give a fuck where you are or if his political reputation is reprimanded, that man is kissing you like it's his only way to breath. "Don't ever--." *kiss* "--scare me like that--." *kiss* "again, L/n."

[moonselune]

Heyo! I was the one to send the ask about a Tav hiding their past from their companions and the romanced one realizing the other day. I forgot to add which romanced companions for the request 😅

Astarion, Karlach, or Shadowheart if that’s ok

No worries! I couldn't actually find the original ask as my inbox likes to snack on them so it worked out perfectly!

Karlach:

The two of you were sprawled out on a grassy hill, the stars blazing above like a million tiny promises of hope. Karlach, ever radiant, had her arms behind her head, her warm laughter still lingering in the cool night air after she'd recounted some ridiculous tale of a fight she'd gotten into years ago. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her—there was something about Karlach that was utterly disarming.

“Y’know,” she said, rolling onto her side to look at you, her face half-illuminated by starlight, “I’ve been thinking about something.”

“That’s always dangerous,” you teased, earning a playful swat on the arm.

“I’m serious,” she said, her tone soft but thoughtful now. “I realized... I don’t actually know much about you. Like, really know you.”

You tensed slightly, your smile fading, and she noticed immediately. Karlach wasn’t the type to miss when someone’s defenses went up—she was too attuned to cracks in the armor not to see it.

“I know you're amazing, and you're kind, and you’ve been through some stuff, but...you’ve always been pretty vague about your past. Why is that?”

“It’s not important,” you said quickly, brushing it off as if it were nothing. You turned your gaze back to the stars, hoping she’d let it go.

But Karlach wasn’t one to let things go easily.

“Not important? You’re important. What made you who you are is important,” she said, her voice gentle but insistent. “Come on, you know everything about me. You know about Zariel, the Hells, all of it. But you...you’ve got this wall around parts of yourself, and I don’t like not being able to reach you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Karlach, it’s...it’s not something I like to talk about, okay? Some things are better left buried.”

“But buried things tend to rot, love,” she said softly, placing a warm hand on your arm. “Please. Talk to me.”

You hesitated, staring at her hand on your arm. The warmth of her touch was grounding, comforting, and yet it made the ache in your chest all the more acute. When you finally looked at her, you saw nothing but patience and love in her eyes. And it broke you.

“Fine,” you muttered, sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. She sat up too, waiting quietly, not rushing you.

“I grew up in a family that looked perfect from the outside,” you began, your voice low. “We had money, status—everything people think makes a family happy. But behind closed doors? It was a nightmare.”

Karlach said nothing, letting you continue at your own pace.

“My parents...they hated each other. And they weren’t exactly quiet about it. Every day was a war zone. Screaming matches, accusations, the kind of anger that seeps into everything. My siblings and I were caught in the crossfire, always trying to stay out of the way, always trying not to make things worse. But no matter what we did, it was never enough. Someone always got hurt, one way or another.”

You paused, your throat tightening as old memories clawed their way to the surface. Karlach reached out and took your hand, her grip firm but reassuring.

“And then,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly, “one day, it all fell apart. My older brother tried to leave—tried to get out of the hellhole we called home. My father...he didn’t take it well. There was a fight. Things got...violent. And my brother never made it out. After that, everything just...collapsed. I left too, eventually, but by then I’d lost everything that mattered. My family. My sense of who I was. All of it.”

You finally looked at her, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “That’s why I don’t talk about it, Karlach. Because what’s the point? It’s just a mess I crawled out of, and I don’t want it to define me.”

For a moment, Karlach was silent, her expression a mix of astonishment and heartbreak. Then she shook her head, a small, incredulous laugh escaping her lips.

“Damn,” she said softly. “You’re...incredible, you know that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“How are you so well-adjusted after all that?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe. “Seriously. If it were me, I’d be a total wreck. But you...you’re strong. You’re kind. You’ve got this huge heart that somehow survived all that pain. It’s...it’s amazing.”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They spilled over, and before you could even think to hide them, Karlach was pulling you into her arms. Her infernal warmth enveloped you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself lean into someone else completely.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled against her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just...I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” she murmured, her hand stroking your back soothingly. “I get it. I do. But I’m here now, okay? You don’t have to carry it all by yourself anymore.”

You clung to her like a lifeline, her warmth chasing away the chill of old wounds. And in that moment, for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as broken as you thought.

“I love you, you know,” Karlach said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to look at her, your eyes still glistening with tears. “I love you too,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of everything you’d just shared.

And as her lips met yours in a gentle, grounding kiss, you realized that maybe you didn’t have to bury your past anymore. Not with Karlach. Not ever again.

Shadowheart:

The two of you sat side by side on a quiet patch of forest floor, the campfire flickering in the distance as the night crept in around you. Shadowheart had been unusually quiet, her sharp eyes scanning the stars above before settling on your profile.

"You know," she started, her voice soft but probing, "for all the time we've spent together, I realize I don’t actually know much about you."

You blinked, glancing at her, caught off guard by the sudden turn in conversation. “What do you mean? You know plenty about me,” you said lightly, trying to deflect.

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Do I? I know who you are now, sure. But your past? Where you come from? What made you...you? You’ve kept it all locked up tight.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your gaze dropping to the ground. “It’s not important,” you muttered.

Shadowheart leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she studied you. “Not important to who? Because it feels pretty important to me.”

Her persistence made you squirm, and you quickly stood, brushing off your clothes as if that would somehow shake the conversation away. “Shadowheart, I don’t—can we not do this right now?”

You started to walk away, but her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Alright. But I’ll find out eventually. You know I’m not one to let things go.” You glanced back at her, giving her a pointed look, but she just smiled sweetly, her tone deceptively innocent. “You’ll tell me, willingly or not.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. Still, you didn’t realize how serious she was about her little promise—until the next evening.

Shadowheart wasn’t just clever; she was sneaky. The next day, she found ways to chip away at your defenses. She asked questions that seemed harmless at first—what foods you liked, what your childhood home looked like, what kind of trouble you got into as a kid. Bit by bit, she pieced together fragments of your past until you realized too late that she’d woven a net around you.

It wasn’t until you were sitting by the riverbank after another grueling day of travel that she struck her final blow.

“So,” she said casually, dipping her fingers into the cool water, “was your family always so chaotic, or did the drama start later on?”

You froze, your stomach twisting as you realized she’d cornered you.

“What are you talking about?” you said, feigning ignorance.

Shadowheart smirked, tilting her head. “Oh, come on. I’ve been paying attention. The little things you’ve let slip, the way you dodge questions—it’s obvious there’s more to your story than you’re letting on. So, spill. What happened?”

You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

She just smiled, her expression softening. “Only when it comes to things that matter. And you, my love, matter.”

Her words cracked something open inside you, and before you could stop yourself, the dam burst.

It all came tumbling out. The family drama that felt like a never-ending storm—arguments, betrayals, and secrets that tore your home apart. The tragedies that left scars too deep to heal. Scandals that painted your family in a light so harsh, you’d spent years trying to escape it.

But it wasn’t all darkness. You found yourself sharing the funny stories too—the times you and your siblings played pranks on each other, the little moments of joy that somehow shone through the chaos. You talked about the people you’d loved and lost, the lessons you’d learned, and the weight you still carried from it all.

By the time you were done, your throat was raw, and your chest felt hollow, like you’d just carved out a piece of yourself and handed it to her.

Shadowheart had been silent the whole time, her expression unreadable as she listened intently. When you finally looked at her, self-consciousness crept in like a cold shadow.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze. “That was...a lot. I probably should’ve kept some of it to myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” she said softly, her voice filled with a kind of reverence that made you look up in surprise.

Her eyes were shining, and there was an almost tangible warmth in her expression. “Do you have any idea how incredible you are?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’ve been through all of that,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon as if the weight of your past was hanging in the air between you. “And here you are—still standing, still fighting, still...you. It’s astonishing.”

You shook your head, a small, incredulous laugh escaping you. “I’m not incredible, Shadowheart. I’m just...getting by.”

“No,” she said firmly, leaning closer and taking your hand in hers. “You’re so much more than that. You’ve been through things that would break most people, and somehow, you’re still...kind. Still hopeful. Still...loving. I’m in awe of you, truly.”

Her words broke something else inside you—not in a painful way, but in a way that felt like healing. Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you could stop them, they spilled over.

Shadowheart cupped your face gently, brushing the tears away with her thumbs.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice steady and certain. “All of you. Your past, your present, your future. Every part of you.”

A shaky laugh escaped you as you leaned into her touch.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She pulled you into a tender embrace, holding you as if she could shield you from the weight of your past. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to carry it all alone.

Astarion:

It was a quiet moment in camp, the kind of peace that always felt precarious, balanced on the knife's edge of your group's chaotic lives. Astarion was lounging next to you, his chin propped in his hand as he studied you with a curious intensity.

“You know,” he began casually, his voice dripping with charm and mischief, “for someone I’m hopelessly enamored with, you are a remarkably well-guarded mystery.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, already suspicious. “Am I?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,” he purred, sitting up straighter. “You’re practically a ghost when it comes to your past. You’ve danced around every question I’ve ever asked, dodging and deflecting like a master illusionist. Honestly, it’s impressive. I think I might even be proud of you.”

You smirked. “Well, thank you, but some things are better left in the past.”

Astarion let out an exaggerated sigh, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Ah, but darling, I hate being left in the dark. You can’t expect me to simply accept this vagueness when I’m dying to know what secrets you’re hiding.”

You gave him a pointed look. “I don’t expect you to do anything. But I’m not telling you, Astarion.”

That should have been the end of it, but of course, it wasn’t. Over the next few days, Astarion’s curiosity morphed into relentless determination. He needled you at every opportunity, his charm turning into playful persistence. Every time you dodged his questions, he only seemed more delighted, like unraveling your secrets had become a personal challenge.

“You know,” he said one evening, leaning close enough that you could feel his breath against your ear, “this is getting downright insulting. Do you think I can’t handle a little drama? Please, I thrive on it.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, rolling your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

“And yet,” he countered, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary, “you still haven’t answered me. Come now, my sweet enigma—indulge me.”

Eventually, you snapped—not in anger, but in exasperation. Sitting by the fire that night, you threw up your hands. “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Astarion’s eyes lit up like a child on their name day, and he settled in with a gleeful smirk, clearly expecting a story worth his persistence.

Blasé, almost flippant, you began to unravel the sordid tale of your past.

You told him about the family dinners that ended in shouting matches—or worse, murders over disputes that ran deeper than blood. You recounted the endless scandals: the illegitimate children, the betrayals that made even the most dramatic bardic tales look tame, the backstabbing that left no one unscathed. The drama unfolded like a grotesque tapestry, each thread more tangled and wild than the last.

Through it all, you remained indifferent, recounting events as if they had happened to someone else entirely. “And then there was the time my cousin poisoned the wine at a wedding. That was a mess. Oh, and the twins—turns out one of them wasn’t even my uncle’s child. But really, what did he expect when he married his mistress?”

Astarion sat in stunned silence, his lips slightly parted as you continued to nonchalantly recount the chaos of your upbringing.

“And, of course, there were the power struggles,” you added with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Everyone vying for control, alliances shifting faster than the wind. It’s all so...exhausting, really.”

When you finally finished, the fire crackled in the silence that followed. You looked at Astarion, expecting...something. Disbelief? Judgment?

Instead, he burst into delighted laughter.

“Oh, my dear, dear love,” he said, clutching his chest as if he might collapse from mirth. “You’re right—it does sound like a poorly written bardic tale. But gods, what a deliciously awful one!”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you it wasn’t worth hearing.”

“Are you joking?” he asked, still laughing. “It’s magnificent! The drama! The intrigue! And you—you just walked away from all of that and turned into...well, you. It’s incredible.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re impressed by all of that?”

“Of course I am,” he said, leaning closer, his expression softening into something genuine. “You survived a storm of madness and somehow emerged as the person I’ve fallen utterly in love with. How could I not be impressed?”

Heat rose to your cheeks at his sincerity, but before you could respond, his grin turned wicked.

“Although,” he added, “you simply must take me to your next family dinner. I need to witness this circus for myself.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not a chance. They’d eat you alive.”

“Darling,” Astarion purred, his voice dripping with confidence, “I’ve been surrounded by vampires for two centuries. I think I can handle a few backstabbing relatives.”

You laughed despite yourself, and Astarion leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, his hand brushing yours in a silent promise.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “For trusting me with this. It means more than you know.”

awh this was wholesome, as someone who comes from a chaotic ass family this was cathartic to write aha. Hope you guys enjoyed it -Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[dustmusings]

After the Dust Settles / Elrond x Fem!Reader

summary: Elrond finds you after the fall of Eregion. Startled by the condition he’s in, you’d do anything to bring him the relief he needs.

warnings/tags: NSFW 18+ ONLY!!! hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, idiots in love (reader is the biggest idiot, sorry), healthy dose of mutual pining, reader is an elf, some miscommunication, minor injury and blood, smut, fingering, pinv sex, reader has medieval expectations and elrond exceeds because I! say! so!

a/n: alright, first non star wars fic on tumblr, whatever whatever. it’s not gonna become a thing unless... this man has not left my mind since the end of season 2 so here, have this. I am not the most well versed in The Lore pls don’t crucify me for it. [@jetii here it is, as promised]

writing masterlist / join my taglist / read on ao3 / word count: 6k

Since the elves had been afforded sanctuary by the rings, you had been trying to busy yourself with any number of menial tasks to help ease minds, distract your own at all costs. The battle for Eregion had taken not only people’s lives, but the will of the ones who remained, and with what little of your sanity you had left you picked up where others could not face continuing.

You were inside the walls of the city when the orcs attacked, an archer on the last line of defence. The effort was futile, and it had been apparent even before the battle had begun. Watching so many of your kind fall into the clutches of death was more than you had bargained for, and something you wouldn’t soon forget. Your quiver and bow laid at your side, a piece of you unwilling to part from them still. 

Now in the safety of the valley, you had set up a small tent, where people could come to have their ailments tended to with a preferred level of privacy. You were no healer, but they were few and far between in present company, so you did what you could. The curtain of night had been drawn for some time, the first time since the end of the battle, and the amount of patients had dwindled into nothing a few hours ago while the sun still clung to the horizon. You were organising what few resources you did have, crouched to view the label of each vial in the small cabinet, and you missed the light scratching of the tent canvas as it slid open.

Your name was called from behind you in a quiet voice, almost sounding like a plea. You turned, finding your beloved friend Elrond standing rigid in the doorway of the tent, his eyes dark and unmoving from yours. His name left your lips in a hoarse whisper as you took in the sight of him. His skin was marred by dirt and blood, a gash cutting him open along the cheekbone, his posture uncharacteristically slumped and hair falling loosely around his face. He still wore his armour from the battle, painted much the same as his skin.

“I did not know if you—“ he seemed to stop himself from speaking, pressing his lips together as he hung his head. His eyes slid closed, and he took a deep, steadying breath. 

You raised yourself from the ground, taking a tentative step towards him, “what is it, Elrond?” 

His gaze raised to you once more at the sound of your voice, and he shook his head lightly, the tiniest of tired smiles lifting his lips, “I am glad you are safe, is all” 

“And you, my lord” you replied, stepping up to him properly now, and raising your hand to his chin to tip his head to the side. His hair fell across his forehead as you traced a finger along the underside of the cut, inspecting.

“Please, you know that is unnecessary” he insisted, taking another deep breath as he watched you carefully. You knew how the title irritated him so when passing your lips, the reason for its passing every time you saw him. “It does not hurt” he claimed, referring to his cut.

“I hear it’s Commander these days” you paid his comment no mind, instead taking in every small scratch that littered the surface of his skin. Your chest tightened at the sight, at the very idea of the elf before you being hurt, having death breathing down his neck. It was beyond relieving that he had made it through the battle.

Elrond’s face drew a tired expression, one of quiet exasperation at your persistence. His hand took hold of your forearm, “please, you need not fuss”

“It must be cleaned” you asserted, dropping your hands from his face and turning away. 

“Melnā, I do not need—”

“Take a seat” you spoke with no room for argument, ignoring the endearment that made your heart flutter as always, “I will return in a moment” 

Taking a step outside, you let yourself breathe in the night air. It really was beautiful here, the moon shining over the water and casting a cool glow along its surface, the trees gently swaying in the breeze as if cradled in its arms. You collected water from the stream just a short distance from the tent, your mind dwelling on the elf that stood just beyond its entrance.

You had known Elrond for what felt like lifetimes, and for any mortal it would have been. In all that time you had never ceased to be enamoured by him. It was quite impossible not to be. He was kind, giving without thought, an attentive healer and a good friend. Possibly that was why it was so odd that you found yourself in this position, or perhaps that was exactly why. He hadn’t come to you for healing, because that wasn’t what this was about, this was caring for him when he needed it most, whether he’d acknowledge it or not. 

He’d always been affectionate with you, in a way that you could face reciprocating. It was more his words than anything, which was not surprising in the least. Though proven a cunning warrior in surviving the recent conflict, his tongue had always been far sharper than his sword. He spoke with intention only, quiet when words held no meaning, avoiding pleasantries when he could, though he always took the time to spare you words of adulation that felt unearned from such a person.

No matter his insistence in speaking it, you could not return the affectionate nickname he called you; melnā. Beloved. It was too real, striking the very deepest part of your heart, where nothing but your love for him resided, festering.

You pulled aside the canvas of the tent, venturing back inside with the pot of water at your hip. Elrond sat in the chair as you had requested, his head tilted back, eyes closed, weighted down by lack of rest. You had never seen him so defeated. His back was curled against the chair, arms hanging limp against his thighs, one leg outstretched and the other falling out to the side. It was disheartening, to say the least, that this elf you knew to be strong-willed above all else was so beaten, inside and out.

You moved silently, not wishing to disturb his moment of peace. It may be the first chance he had had since the battle, after all. You retrieved a cloth, and tentatively approached his slumped figure. It was the sound of water trickling from the cloth that drew him from his stupor. His eyes opened and found yours as you stood hunched over the pot beside him, his posture straightening, more reminiscent of his usual demeanour.

“My apologies” he murmured.

“Your apologies are unnecessary” you spoke softly, wringing out the cloth, “please, rest if that is what your body calls for”

His brows pinched a little, offering a tender look that tugged at your heart. He was so unused to having kindness offered to him, being the one that so often gave it out, that you knew the simple notion had surprised him.

He slumped against the chair once again, eyes never leaving you as you folded the cloth into a neat square; an unnecessarily proper gesture that would soon be proved pointless as the white material became riddled with dirt and blood. You stepped around the pot so you stood in front of him, and took his chin between your fingers once more, tipping his head to get a better look at the wound. As the cool cloth met the warmth of his skin, all of his breath left him in a sharp exhale.

He flinched away only marginally, evidently trying to remain still against the sting. You whispered an apology, but continued on cleaning his wound until the regular hue of his skin shone through the grime. Thankfully the cut wasn’t deep, and really he was lucky to come away from the fight so unscathed where most fell. Though it didn’t stop the way your chest tightened at the simple idea of him being hurt.

Elrond had always been collected in a particularly admirable way, but now as his frustrations could be seen peeking through the cracks of his noble exterior, you were more worried than anything. Only months ago had he been the bright-eyed elf you knew, full of a certain hopefulness that seemed unending. Now as he sat before you, his grey eyes were dimmed, as if someone had snuffed his spark, the state of Middle Earth turning them cold, clouded. Where they had been the welcome mist of an early morning, there was now a storm brewing in them.

He was much changed from who he was, and your heart broke for him.

“You are hurting” he observed in a low voice. You hadn’t known he’d been watching you so closely.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze, “I am unharmed” 

His eyebrows drew together as he turned his head, forcing you to stop your movements. “It is not your body” he claimed, taking your wrist as you tried to continue, “it is your mind”

The feel of his fingers wrapped around your skin, the unwavering scrutiny in his eyes, was dizzying. You tried to deny the way your stomach flipped, butterflies taking flight, but it was made difficult by the raising bumps along your skin, the heat that creeped up your neck.

“I did not realise you could read the thoughts of others, Elrond” you deflected, your tone light, almost jesting.

He scoffed quietly, his grip loosening on your wrist, “it was merely an informed assumption” 

“Informed” you chuckled as you resumed wiping the muck from his face, stepping forward a little, “pray tell?” 

“Your face betrays you” he claimed, turning his head away and spreading his knees wider for your ease.

You sighed, following the sharp line of his jaw with your eyes, clenched in pain of either flesh or mind, most likely both. You focused on cleaning the area, gently urging him to relax with smooth motions from his cheekbone down to his chin. His eyes closed with a soft breath leaving his lips, his mouth falling open. 

“It troubles me to see you this way, mellon nín” you confessed quietly, “it is so unlike you” 

He hummed thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a deep frown, “It is just a small cut, it will be fixed in a matter of hours”

“It is not your wound that concerns me” you replied, an edge of stringency that you hadn’t intended. He looked up at you with a timidity to his gaze that was hard to ignore. His guard was up, and it was so foreign to see on his features. “May I speak plainly?”

The smallest smile reached his darkened eyes, “as if you would do anything but” 

A gentle laugh escaped you, creasing your eyes with a fondness before they grew sad. You skimmed the back of your fingers over his clean cheek very lightly, and he turned to face you once more. “I am worried for you, Elrond” you whispered, “you are much changed from the elf I once knew”

He sighed desperately, hanging his head, “it is not by any great effort of my own”

“I am aware” you returned, slipping your hand under his jaw to raise his head. The shame in his eyes was hard to bear, and you stroked your thumb across his cheek in a delicate gesture. “What can be done?”

“You need not worry about me” he assured, “wrongs will be righted in time, it is the way of things.” A long breath passed your lips as you stared down at him, worry never leaving your expression. Elrond lifted a hand to you, flattening his palm against the outside of your knee and rubbing up and down in a comforting manner, “please do not fret, melnā nín“

You could feel your cheeks burn at the endearment, and busied yourself by focusing on the task at hand, threading your fingers through the hair that fell over his forehead to push it back. “You should not call me that” you muttered, dragging the cloth over his temple.

“Why?” he rebutted softly, thumb tracing over the top of your knee, “because I am ‘changed’?” 

You frowned at him, not understanding the question, “because you do not use it for its intended meaning”

The statement made him sit up immediately, his back straightening so he drew closer in proximity, his chest almost flush against you, “why do you assume so?” 

His sudden closeness was as startling as his words, and you were left with your hands in the air, unsure what to do with them, your mouth hanging open and trying to find the right words. “I— I do not take your meaning”

”You believe that I do not mean the words I speak, why is this?” He asked lowly, skimming his hands up the outside of your thighs, resting them at your waist.

To say that you felt flustered would be an understatement. Elrond stared up at you with determined curiosity, a soft seriousness that would make anyone feel cared for, that their words mattered more than life itself. The weight of his hands on your hips was unfamiliar, yet so comfortable, though that was not surprising. This was Elrond, after all. He was impossibly kind and purposeful at the worst of times, a dependable elf beyond measure and in all your years of friendship he had not once seen fit to slight you in any way.

Yes, friendship, because the question of more had always seemed impossible to ask, and thus been unanswered. 

“We are friends, Elrond, I—”

“You are right” he interrupted, removing his hands from your body and sitting back against the chair, “Forgive me”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes as his head dropped back, sighing deeply. You didn’t know what the appropriate thing to do was in this specific scenario, but the dirt that he had smeared over his cleared skin was demanding your attention.

“Do not do that” you instructed quietly, taking the dirty hand from his face and sighing deeply as you looked upon it.

You wrung out the cloth into another basin and returned it to the fresh water, then brought it to his hand, kneeling by his side. You felt the weight of his gaze on you as you wiped the dirt from his skin, but refused to indulge in it. It was selfish to seek anything from him in this moment, when he was so broken, in need of someone to care for him.

“You are tired” he observed correctly again. He had always been able to read you far more easily than you were comfortable with.

“Everyone in this valley is tired” you deflected.

“I am not concerned with them at the moment” he spoke resolutely. You finally met his eyes, and the way they shone with intent set your stomach alive, “this is unnecessary. You require rest” 

“Please” you pleaded quietly, “just— let me do this for you, just for this one time” 

He exhaled softly, looking upon you with a pitiful expression as he raised his clean palm to your jaw. His thumb swiped across your cheek, but he pulled away almost right away. “I will…” he trailed off, taking hold of your forearm, “but I won’t have you stationed at my feet like this”

He pulled you up, and then directed you to sit on the arm of the chair, laying your legs across his lap. You obliged, your voice stuck in your throat, and his arm wound around your waist, splaying his palm against your lower back to steady you. 

He gave you a gentle smile, “you may continue, if you wish” 

You nodded, and took his other hand, quickly wiping away every inch of dirt that covered it until you reached the edge of his armour, where the skin was untouched by grime. You then raised the cloth to his neck, and much to your surprise, Elrond dropped his head back with a pensive sigh as his eyes slid closed. Watching every movement he made as you cleaned him, you became more and more entranced. His hand slid to your hip as you ran the cloth under his ear, earning another uneasy exhale, and when you reached the lip of his armour, dragging the white material just below the surface of his tunic, a small shudder wracked his body. 

You had finished your work now, the visage that was once covered by dirt was clean, shining brilliantly in the low candlelight of the tent. Elrond still laid with his head back, and the exposed skin of his neck was all too tempting, beckoning you. You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face and drawing another shaky breath from him. With the confidence that your touch was affecting him in the way you had thought, you took a leap of faith.

His skin was soft under your lips as you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and Elrond’s grip on your hip tightened, his breath stuttering. You placed another gentle kiss against him, this time to the column of his throat, and you watched as it bobbed in reply. Elrond’s other hand now securely held your thigh, tracing circles into fabric of your tunic, and you continued to gently press your lips to his neck, slowly exploring the skin that was now exposed to you.

“Melnā” he whispered in a soft exhale, and you felt your blood running hot. 

“What is it, meleth nín?” you murmured against him, continuing to litter his skin with affection.

Elrond’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment he was silent, his breath coming out in shallow pants, as if trying not to be heard. You paused your movements, and awaited his answer. 

“I am not sure you understand what you are doing to me”

You raised your head at his assertion, meeting his dark gaze head on and trying to contain the embarrassment you felt, “I shall stop, we never need mention this again”

Elrond shook his head. “You misunderstand me” he said, sitting up so his forehead met yours, “I would not want you to do this simply because you felt I needed it” 

You frowned, moving your gaze between his eyes and searching for something you weren’t entirely sure of. “I would not deny that” you spoke quietly, and watched as a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features, “but selfishly, it would not be the sole reason”

His eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and for a moment he just stared at you, as if to figure out whether or not the words had really slipped from your lips. His hand left your thigh to hold your jaw, closing his eyes as he leant into you, “it does not bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“That I am… different, as you say?” He murmured in reply, lifting his head so his nose gently rubbed against yours. 

“Elrond…” you sighed as you took his face in both hands, and his eyes fluttered open to meet your gaze, “you are not capable of the kind of change that would squander my high regards for you, nor quell my affections”

He exhaled, and you felt the warmth of his breath against your lips, “what would you allow me?” 

“Anything” you replied in a whisper, “everything”

Elrond’s arm tightened around you, and his other hooked under your knees as he slowly stood from his seat, taking you with him. He kept his eyes on yours as he made his way over to the bed you had set up, and finally you could see some of the darkness receding from them. If you were to serve as a distraction for him, with nothing given in return, then you would do it gladly, no matter the pain in your heart. You knew it was foolish, to allow yourself to be burned at his stake, but when he treated you so gently, as if you were precious, as if you’d break if he released you, you didn’t seem to care. 

He placed you down on the thin mattress, moving to remove his armour before you protested. “Allow me” you directed him to sit down instead, and knelt in front of him to slip off the pieces of his armour without another word. The process felt almost religious, a ritual of sorts, each piece falling away to reveal his slender form. You stacked the pieces neatly to your side, taking care not to damage the fine craftsmanship, despite it being designed for that express purpose. 

When the last piece was placed down, you finally lifted your eyes back to him. Your insides buzzed with nervous energy, but you couldn’t lose your confidence now, and so you placed your hands on his thighs, sliding them upwards as you raised to your knees. For a moment you just took him in, his weary smile, the tiredness in his eyes, slack jaw. He was so fatigued, and to offer him some semblance of tenderness in this state felt like a monumental privilege. His hands found your body, sitting comfortably at your waist, and you were snapped back into the moment.

“You do not need to do this” he reminded, gently kneading your skin to bring you closer. 

You shook your head, “I want to, if you’ll allow me” 

His expression softened further, “you need not ask, my love”

You nudged his jaw upwards with your nose, planting a kiss just beneath and making his body deflate in relief. You drew a slow path towards his ear as your hands slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. Every movement you made was calculated, a precise act, aimed to release any lingering tension that he held within his body. You tried hard not to lose yourself in his presence, in the natural scent of his skin, in the feel of his breath against your own neck, and succeeded by focusing on every sensation as it arose, keeping yourself present. 

You slowly peeled back his shirt, allowing you access to the skin below, but before you could explore any further, Elrond’s voice cut through the silence.

“Stand for me” he said lowly, his lips almost brushing your ear as he spoke and causing a shiver to run down your back, desire pooling low in your stomach.

You obliged right away, pushing off of the floor to stand before him. First, he took you calf and slid one shoe from you, and then repeated the action for the other foot. He took hold of the ties that were holding your tunic up and slowly untied you from the material. The fabric slid from your shoulders with ease, pooling around your ankles on the floor. The chill of night, barely concealed by the tent, blew against your bare skin, nipping at you as the edge of self-consciousness did in the same moment. You were bare to Elrond now, and his hands traced down your sides as he took in the sight, a certain reverence to his gaze that sent your mind towards puzzlement.

As his hands reached your thighs, he pulled you slowly towards him, positioning you over him so you straddled his lap. Before you could continue the exploration of his skin, his own lips made contact with your shoulder, and he littered kisses downwards along your collarbone, languid motions that made your head spin. You breath caught in your throat as his hand skimmed up the inside of your thigh, and you let out a choked exhale when you felt his fingers dip between your folds. Your head fell forwards, resting your forehead against his shoulder as he continued his efforts, tracing circles around your sensitive bud, which only made your breath heavier and heavier.

You panted his name, disbelief colouring your tone, not expecting him to pay any attention to your needs. It would have been ample to care for him, but receiving it back, you realised just how much you needed it. The battle had been tough on you as well, and the way that your body relaxed under his touch reminded you of that fact.

A small chuckle left his lips at your incredulity. “You did not expect this?” He deduced correctly once again. You couldn’t answer, for the way his fingers expertly played against you was rendering you unable to speak. “You thought I would neglect you in this way?”

“I… n— yes?” you stuttered out unsurely, silenced by your own moan at Elrond doubling his efforts.

“Mm, as I thought” he teased lightly, his voice low as his lips drew near to your ear. You breathed heavily, trying to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your lips sealed for the fear of what sounds might erupt if given the chance. Not trusting yourself to stay quiet, you buried your face in his neck. Elrond hummed disapprovingly, “I want to hear you, pretty one”

Urging you on in his request, Elrond slowly slipped his fingers past your entrance, taking his time to coax every possible ounce of pleasure from you, and earning a shaky moan against his neck. 

“That’s it” he cooed, his other hand kneading the skin of your waist in time with the fingers that worked inside of you, “I have you”

His words reminded you I’m an instant that this was not to be the purpose of this endeavour, and your hand flew to his wrist, pausing his movements. “Elrond, this was supposed to be for your benefit”

Elrond shook his head. “That may have been your intention” he withdrew his fingers a little before sinking them back inside, “but I can see that you are just as weary as I”

“No, I—” your hips twitched forwards instinctively as he picked up his pace, “I insist”

”Do you?” He said in an amused rumble.

You tried to regain authority over your ragged breath, some semblance of control over your body, but Elrond was playing you like a harp. He strummed the strings of your pleasure like he knew the tune by heart, every movement instinctive and adept, swells in dynamic that built up towards a climax. You were getting there quickly far quicker than anticipated. The pads of his fingers pressed against your walls, the base of his palm working your clit, and you could feel everything within you pulling taut.

“Elrond—” his name fell from your lips in a needy whisper.

“What do you need?” He replied quietly, never faltering in his pace.

“I—”

The question confounded you. Never before had you been asked such a thing, not in the height of pleasure at least. Your mind couldn’t wander far given the situation, but for a moment you tried to produce an answer for him.

“Tell me” he urged again, more insistent now, “what do you want?”

“I want—” the minor difference in wording, with the added knowledge of Elrond’s cock straining against his trousers and pressing against your leg, brought the answer to you more readily. “I want… you, Elrond” you breathed out, hips buckling against him to punctuate your point.

An uneasy groan sounded in his throat, reverberating against your cheek as you remained pressed against him. He pulled his fingers from you quickly, and within the next second he had flipped you over so you were beneath him. You reached for the tie of his trousers as he did, eager to remove the final piece of clothing that restricted him from you.

Elrond slotted himself between your legs to the tune of your small whimper, but he paused. His face hovered above you, his eyes flicking between yours, searching. It was as if he was waiting for something, but you couldn’t decipher what.

“You have not kissed me” he muttered, his eyes briefly flicking to your lips before his steadfast gaze returned to yours.

Your eyes widened a little at the observation, unsure of the waters you were about to dip your toe into, “you would let me?”

The expression on Elrond's face as he pulled back was purely scandalised, his brows settled in a deep frown, “whatever do you mean?” 

“I—” you tried to find the words to express what you had previously thought, but now it all sounded ridiculous. 

“You believe I do not—” words failed him in a moment of disbelief, and then his expression softened once more, his palm resting against your cheek, “meleth nín, forgive me for such unkind words, but… you are a fool”

Your brows drew together a little. He had never called you anything of the sort, but knowing him, ever intentional with his words, you didn’t doubt that he was right.

“To doubt my deep affections for you is to deny the very rising and setting of the sun. Do you truly think so lowly of me that I would allow you this without returning your desire in equal measure?”

You could only blink up at him after such a confession, but once his words began to sink in, you realised the depth of your folly. Of course the reverence in his gaze, the tenderness of his touch, was not because anyone was giving him this kind of affection, but because it was you. The thought struck you so suddenly that you became breathless, your cheeks heating. To engage in this act, usually reserved for marriage, he must have more admiration for you than you gave him credit for. Elrond was right, you were a fool.

“I do not” you spoke resolutely, “I have only the highest of regards for you” 

“Then hear me now” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing, “I have waited centuries to embrace you in this way. Every moment in your presence has been excruciating, longing for more than what I thought possible, waiting for the day that you changed your mind about me. Now that the day has finally arrived, I do not intend to spare you such an intimacy without knowing the taste of your lips”

“Elrond…” you whispered, reaching up to mirror his palm against your cheek, “my mind remains unchanged. This is the way I have always felt” 

His eyes widened, a light scoff escaping him in complete surprise, “then we are both fools”

“I believe you may be right” you chuckled at his reaction, you hand tangling in his curls with the reward of a delighted sigh. The look of contentment on his face was enough to melt you into the fabric of the sheet you laid upon. “You are so beautiful, melnā”

Elrond rested his forehead against yours, “what ever beauty I possess pales in comparison to the fortune of looking upon such fair features as yours”

“Such flowery words” you lips quirked, teasing his lyrical ways. 

Elrond chuckled, skimming the pad of his thumb across the skin beneath your eye, “you are worth the time it takes to speak them, my love”

At long last, Elrond brought his lips to yours. He kissed you firmly, deeply, every bit of his usual sincerity woven into the action, and you quickly lost yourself in him as you had aimed to prevent before. His hands roved your body in featherlight touches, mapping the shape of you as his kisses grew more insistent. 

Soon he began to explore past the bounds of your lips, traveling along your jaw. His breath ghosted over your ear, pausing for only a second, before he gently brushed his lips against it. Your breath caught in your throat, almost choking by the uneasy rhythm of it as he grazed his teeth against your earlobe. It was the first time anyone had ever touched your ears, and the gesture was so uniquely intimate, so undeniably pleasurable, that you couldn’t help the way your finger’s tightened in Elrond’s curls. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing his body closer. The both of you moaned in tandem as his hardened length came into contact with your core, Elrond whispering a curse as he buried his face in your neck. He repeated the action with more intention, taking hold of his cock to run it through your folds, slick with arousal. Your breath shortened as he circled your clit with the tip, your mind becoming hazier. Elrond lifted his head and pressed his forehead to yours, and you felt his shaky breath against your lips. The question was clear in his eyes, asking for your permission, and you tightened your legs around him to reply. 

His tip passed your entrance, stretching you open in the most pleasant way. The melody of your moans only intensified as he slowly sank into you, his hand gripping your hip tightly. His eyes were screwed shut, and he swore under his breath again, his lips brushing yours in the process. He released his hand from your hip, smoothing over the skin that he had held so tightly, as if to soothe any hurt he had caused. If he had, you hadn’t noticed.

Elrond pulled out almost completely, before he sank back in with a slow roll of his hips. He set a steady pace at first, both of you just revelling in the feel of being so connected, so close. He brought his lips to yours once more, taking his time to really taste you, to feel every movement so deeply. 

His hands smoothed down your sides as he pulled away slightly to gaze down at you, goosebumps raising under his touch. “You are so perfect” he spoke reverently, his tone nothing short of worshipping, and you could feel your cheeks flush, even now. The change in angle had your back arching, and as a heavy moan left your lips, Elrond gripped your hips tightly again. It seemed that something in him snapped after that, any restraint that he had demonstrated melted away, and letting what desire coursed through his veins take ahold of him.

His pace was fracturing then, his breath heavy against your skin as he leaned over to paint affection across your collarbone and chest. His fingers danced along the skin of your abdomen, taking a path downwards that had you already writhing at the anticipation. He drew tight circles around your clit, and combined with the feel of his cock dragging against your walls, hitting the deepest parts of you, you were ready to come undone in a matter of seconds.

“That’s it, meleth nín. Let go for me” he whispered against your ear, the added sensation of his lips against the sensitive area making your orgasm rip through you almost immediately. 

Your vision blurred, white hot bliss searing through your veins as you were pushed over the edge, and Elrond followed you over, letting out a low grunt as he spilled all of himself inside of you. He held himself over you as he regained his breath, meeting your eyes again and letting a fatigued grin lift his lips, his eyelids heavy.

You pulled him down and into a slow kiss, your hands on the back of his neck, gently tugging at the curls at the base of his head. He brought his forehead to yours as you broke the kiss, and wound an arm around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 

“You know…” he began, something playful in his eyes, mouth twitching with a smirk, “in the eyes of some, this would make us husband and wife”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I could live with people believing that”

Elrond hummed amusedly, gently tracing his nose along yours in a tender gesture. “Do not think of this as my proposal” he murmured, “one day, I shall ask you properly” 

[yanoverload]

Yandere Unicorn Hybrid

Hello dearly beloveds. I am early this time.

This is in the same universe as yandere cow boy and yandere tanuki, but set in the medieval times.

If you feel like it gives you Epic vibes no it doesn't.

I also feel like this is one of the longest I've written LOL

The cold mud seeps from the ground, and works as an ointment to my hurt feet. I sigh as I wish I had the time to stop, but if I do, the enemy will ambush me.

War was never a pretty sight. But humans, just like beasts, felt the need to shed blood for food, territory, status. I suppose that is the way of the world.

No one expected the ambush, it was cowardly, we were apart os a simple camp of injured soldiers and doctors, trying to recover from the losses. Enemy soldiers put fire in the tents, specifically in the medical center. I managed to run in only sleep rags, but maybe I should have stayed. 

Maybe I should've died with some glory, but I am just human. 

"I want to go back to my family" I hold my arm trying to bite off the pain. The bandages seem loose, and the stab wounds are starting to seep blood through my clothes.

Before I notice, my desperation makes me go further than normal, as I encounter a scenario I have never noticed in the forest. I don’t think I ever came this deep into it in my time at camp.

There were several flowers lying around in a wild, but also organized manner. It really was a pretty sight. In the center of the stage was a clearing, one where a river crossed right as the trees gave way, showing a beautiful sun.

I get one foot forward. Then another. Almost as if in a daze towards the river.

As I approach I see the trees are filled with fruit, perfectly ripe with no bumps or noticeable bugs, I check the water, it's clean looking and at perfect temperature.

Have I died in the middle of the forest and gone to heaven? Am I still in the medical bed hallucinating?

As I'm about to sip from the water, I hear a yell. I almost mistake it for the enemy soldiers.

"Begone filth! Before you damage this land with your corruption." 

All I see is a gorgeous human being, ethereal like never seen before. Pale like the moon, with eyes that glitter like stars.

Their hair, silky smooth, almost as blue and shiny as the river before me. In their forehead a horn. Have I met one of the fae? Did I step into a faerie circle?

As I behold the marble statue glaring at me, I feel as if the shine of the sun starts to dim, my body feeling heavier than armor.

I blink as I see the strangers worried and panicked state as I fall to the ground, energy depleted.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the future, humanity changed their own DNA to produce hybrids. What they didn't know is that certain types have existed for centuries.

Unicorns are one of them. Believed to be a horse with a horn, they are rather humanoid figures, most commonly mistaken as faeries or elves for their graceful stature.

As beings blessed by life, they live in another dimension from other living beings, a paradise no one seems to ever encounter apart from those in fairytales.

Éliphas is one of those. But rather than in a group he seems to live in one of those havens by himself. Until you came along.

He's been lonely for so long, even if he seems to despise you... He wishes for you to stay.

Unicorns tend to prefer pure things, and you are not pure at all, but that doesn't seem to bother Éliphas.

Super tsundere yan.

Unicorns are supposed to be pure of heart, so he would never kill anyone, but he doesn't need it! Because you seem to be stuck in his domain and can't get out... Oh no.

He acts like a housewife

Says he's looking for a way for you to leave, but let's be honest he's lying.

Are you corrupting him perhaps?

Wears little to no clothes, how doesn't he feel cold in the forest? His domain is the perfect weather, not too much sun but enough breeze.

Height: 176 cm (5'9 feet)

[ugotnojamzzz]

Chapter 23

Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

Wordcount: 3.4k

Masterlist

Chapter 22

—

Y/N opened her eyes to fire and smoke.

Her lungs stung. Her ribs ached. Somewhere far off, a voice was calling her name. Or maybe not. Everything smelled like oil, burning metal and blood.

Then: hands.

Grabbing her, pulling her, dragging her through the debris as heat rose behind them. Her cheek scraped something rough — bark, maybe. She heard her own breath before she felt it. Heard a grunt. Heavy footfalls. Then air, open and damp, hitting her skin like a slap.

“Get—” she croaked, “—the fuck off.”

He didn’t reply, just shifted to lift her more fully against him, dragging her body away from the wreck. Her legs scraped against earth and twisted vines and something that smelled like rotting citrus. She tried to shove him off again, weaker this time.

When the ringing in her ears faded, she was flat on the ground, the air thick with burnt oil and humidity, staring up at a fractured canopy.

Grass and vines and wet moss and something alive under her palms.

The hands still on her. Checking.

“I said,” she shoved him, scrambling away, heart in her throat, “get off  me.”

She blinked. Jungle. Actual jungle. Dense, wet, alive with noise. Her clothes clung to her, sticky with sweat and blood and whatever other fluids crash survivors tended to marinate in.

No signal. No landmarks. No sea. No sky beyond the canopy. Just vines, insects the size of thumbs, and the slow dawning horror that this—this was where she was probably going to die.

She turned to him, still catching his breath beside the wreckage

It was him. Of course.

Jungkook.

Sweaty. Bloody. Half-wild with adrenaline. And still, maddeningly, him.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, getting up on his feet and scanning their surroundings.

“You—” she started, but the chopper behind them gave a soft groan. The flames had found the fuel line.

Shit.

The explosion ripped through the trees like a war cry. A burst of heat. They hit the ground again as the remains of the fuselage went up in flames.

Birds shrieked overhead and flew. Everything stank of smoke and panic.

She coughed hard. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I wish,” Jungkook muttered, brushing soot off his forearms.

She dragged herself upright. Her knee was cut. Her shoulder stung. There were twigs in her hair and blood on her cheek.

She looked around.

Trees. So many goddamn trees. The kind that reached up forever and shut out the sky. Everything slick and damp and humming with sound — insects, birds and whatever else. No paths. No lights. No other voices.

No rescue.

Her stomach dropped.

He was doing a headcount — of two, apparently. Checked the gun at his hip and the knife at his thigh.

She looked at the destroyed helicopter. “What happened to that whole ‘keeping me safe’ thing, huh?”

He didn’t look at her. “Last I checked you’re not ash.”

“Gee. Gold star for effort.” She paced a few feet away. “I knew I should’ve never followed you.”

He didn’t answer, simply walked and crouched beside the wreckage’s perimeter, checking for anything salvageable

She kept going. “So this is it? I survive months of being everyone’s favorite hostage-slash-bargaining-chip just to die in a fucking jungle ‘cause no one bothered to get the oil changed on your tin can?”

His jaw ticked as her voice cut through the trees like a blade. He straightened slowly, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I crashed the helicopter on purpose. Because nothing turns me on like a little brushfire and internal bleeding.”

Y/N whirled on him. “Don’t be cute.”

“I wasn’t. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” she snapped, stalking toward him. “I’ve been dragged, gagged, locked in an attic, and now flown into the middle of nowhere so your pals can conduct a casual little evacuation drill, and for what?”

She glanced down at her arm—scraped raw. Her shirt was half-shredded. Her skin slicked in sweat and grime. Her jaw ached. She turned to him. “Any chance you know where the fuck we are?”

“Nope,” he said, looking up. “We were flying somewhere over Vietnam.”

“Well. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.”

She stood, breathing hard, glaring, then took a step back.

She turned toward the shattered remains of the helicopter—the tail had snapped clean off, lying somewhere down a slope.

And then it hit her.

“The pilot,” she said, breath catching. “Where is he?”

Jungkook didn’t move. Just stared ahead, body completely still except for the faint rise and fall of his chest.

She followed his gaze.

The cockpit was engulfed. No movement. Just the scream of fire and the acrid stench of melted plastic and flesh.

Oh.

Okay.

Her stomach turned. She took a step back without meaning to, bumping into something—his shoulder. He didn’t flinch.

“Anyway,” she crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. “This has been a delight. Truly. But I think I’ll take my chances with the cannibals, now.”

Jungkook blinked at her. “What?”

“Best of luck, soldier.” She gave him a salute. “First one to get sacrificed loses…or wins, I’m not sure at this point.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he shook his head.

“Oh, I assure you, I am.”

“We’re in the jungle.”

“Thank you, I hadn’t noticed.”

“There could be predators.”

“I’ve been living among tigers for month,” she retorted, “I think I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have any weapons.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do with a rock.” She turned and actually started walking—limping, really, but the point was made.

He stood there for a beat. Watching. Assessing.

Then he sighed. Loudly. “For fuck’s sake.”

And followed her into the jungle.

—

She heard a rustle behind her.

“Y/N.”

“Don’t,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t try to alpha male me into sticking together. 

Another step. He was definitely following.

She whipped around. “What is your problem? Just go do your lone-wolf brooding somewhere else.”

He pulled his gun.

She froze.  “Okay. Jesus. Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“I’m not aiming at you,” he said, “yet.”

“That’s comforting.”

He lowered the weapon slowly, but the look in his eyes was taut. Wild in a way that had nothing to do with the jungle. “You can’t go.”

“Oh, really?” she said, voice rising. “Why? You gonna cry yourself to death without me? Or do you just need my survival expertise? That’s fair, I suppose. So far your tactical brilliance has gotten us a crispy pilot, no radio and half a canteen of water.”

He stared at her. Silent. Chest rising.

She glared back. “So? Go on, do give me your grand reason.”

He hesitated.

Then, coolly: “Because you’re my ticket out of here.”

That knocked the air out of her. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

Jungkook looked down at the floor with the pained expression of someone who was about to receive the reprimand of the century.

—

—

“You did WHAT?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a detonation—sharp, loud, echoing across the damp jungle air like a rifle crack. Her voice cracked too, hoarse from smoke and dehydration and sheer disbelief. Jungkook didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, didn’t even bother to defend himself at first.

She was already closing the distance between them, fists clenched, steps stomping hard enough to crush roots. “You chipped me?”

“Not me personnally,” he said, evenly. “They did.”

“Oh, right,” she barked. “Because that makes it so much better.”

Jungkook still wouldn’t meet her eyes. He had the decency to look just slightly ashamed, but not enough. Not nearly enough. His gaze stayed fixed somewhere behind her shoulder, on the tangled green wall of vines and insects and heat that encased them.

“I’m not a fucking dog,” she growled, low and lethal. “Or a stolen car. You don’t just slap a fucking tracking device under someone’s skin like that’s a normal Tuesday.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just a micro-dermal implant. It’s fast and painless—“

“Oh my god, painless? Wow. You absolute fucking gentlemen.” She shoved him. He barely budged, but the impact felt satisfying anyway.

“Hey, calm your tits, will you? I wasn’t even here when they did it. It’s Mrs. Shin’s specialty.”

She froze.

The memory hit her like a slap: that first night in the mansion, the too-sweet jasmine blend she didn’t remember asking for, the sleep that followed.

“That old bitch,” she hissed “I knew she’d done something.”

“I mean, she’s efficient,” he shrugged.

That did it. “You think this is funny?” she shoved him again — hard, two palms square into his chest. He stumbled back, jaw tightening.

“No,” Jungkook said. “I think it’s a fucking miracle, considering our current situation.”

She spun away from him, running her hands through her hair, dragging at the strands, trying to pull the disgust out by the root. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she hissed. That’s why she’d had so much freedom back at the mansion. She couldn’t go anywhere without them knowing. And to think she once actually fancied an escape.

“Where is it?” she snapped, already reaching for her own skin, scrubbing at her arms, her neck, her collarbone. “Where the hell did they put it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit,” she spat.

“I don’t,” he snapped back, voice sharp now. “They don’t exactly CC me on the medical files.” He had a discreet smirk on his face.

She narrowed her eyes, stepping close again, close enough to smell the heat on him, the rain still clinging to his lashes, the mud and metal scent of gunpowder on his shirt. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” she accused.

He gave a tired, bitter laugh. “Right. Because getting stuck in a sweaty, mosquito-infested jungle with the human equivalent of a migraine was definitely on my wishlist.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“This isn’t personal,” he raised both his hands in surrender.

She whirled. “Isn’t it?”

“Look,” he growled, “I didn’t ask for this. Neither did you. But if you think I’m letting go of the one thing that gets me out of this jungle alive just because you’re offended—”

“Oh my God,” she laughed, bitter and loud. “That’s what this is? I’m your exit strategy?”

“You’re my signal,” he snapped. “They’re tracking you. I stay near you, I get found too. That’s it.”

Her jaw twitched. “That’s it?”

He met her gaze. Hesitant. “That’s it.”

They stared at each other, wet and wild and electric. A silence unfurled between them, frayed at the edges with all the things neither could say. Her shoulders slowly dropped. She looked off, exhaled long and low.

“Fine,” she muttered. “You can stay.”

He sighed in relief but she spoke again before he could even reply.

“But if I so much as hear you breathing too loud behind me, I swear to god I will wrap a vine around your neck and string you up like jungle bait.”

Jungkook’s mouth opened—then closed.

“…Duly noted.”

—

—

They’d been walking for hours. Or maybe just forty minutes that felt like hours. Time moved different when your socks were wet and your legs were chewed up by mosquitos.

Jungkook trailed a few paces behind her, letting her set the pace. 

She hadn’t said a word since they climbed out of that godforsaken ravine. He’d been filling the silence with muttered curses and the occasional slap at a bug the size of his thumb. 

He kept noticing stupid things. The frayed hem of her shirt. The small cut on the back of her calf, streaked with dirt. The way her fingers curled every time she brushed a branch aside. The way she didn’t look back once, not even to see if he was still following.

Jungkook exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. His shirt clung to him like a second skin, soaked through with sweat. The jungle had no wind, no mercy. Just the suffocating press of humidity and the ever-present sound of something breathing too close.

He glanced up, looking for distraction—sky, birds, something. The canopy above was a locked vault—nothing but green upon green upon green. No sky. No sun. Just the heavy press of trees.

Just then, she stopped dead in her tracks and Jungkook nearly walked right into her.

He skidded, right foot sliding on slippery earth. “Watch it,” he snapped, though his voice came out strangled.

She pivoted, eyes bright with that feral intensity that made his chest tighten. “Give me a boost.”

He blinked. No trace of amusement on her face, no hesitation—just that look, as if saying, Do I have to spell it out?

He swallowed. “What for?”

She pointed to a twisted tree trunk, its branches curling skyward like desperate fingers. Above, a small opening in the canopy revealed a sliver of gray sky. “I want to see. We need to know if we’re headed in circles.”

He looked at the tree. Then her. Then the tree again.

“You realize we’re in the middle of nowhere, right? I don’t think you’ll spot a shopping mall.”

Her face was flushed from the heat, dirty, scratched. But her expression was all bite.

He sighed. Loudly. “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

He dropped his pack and crouched without ceremony, hands out. She stepped forward, braced one muddy boot on top of his laced fingers. Her hand hit his shoulder—warm and real—and for one stupid second, his brain blanked out.

“C’mon, Tarzan.”

He rolled his eyes and lifted her up.

She was quick on her feet and she used his body like a ladder, planting herself higher on the tree, climbing up with quick, practiced movements. Branches creaked. Leaves shook loose. He stayed crouched, hands still half-raised, heart hammering like he’d just run a mile.

She perched, looking out past the branches, hair tousled, eyes sharp. She scanned the horizon—or whatever passed for it in this green abyss—and didn’t speak for a long beat.

He stayed below, watching her silhouette.

“Anything?” he asked eventually.

“No villages. No roads. No nothing.”

“So, good news all around,” he said dryly.

She glanced down, eyes meeting his. There was something in her face—irritation hiding hopelessness.

She climbed down with stealth and dropped beside him without warning. Close. Too close. Their shoulders brushed.

He didn’t step back.

Neither did she.

And then, without a word, she turned again and kept walking.

He followed. Of course he did.

This time, a little closer.

—

They kept walking. Not because they knew where they were going, but because stopping meant having to deal with each other.

The light was shifting. Everything was turning the same shade of damp, dying moss. He didn’t need a clock to know they were running out of daylight. The birds had gone quieter. Even the bugs felt like they were watching.

“We need to stop soon,” he said, finally.

She didn’t answer. Just kept moving.

“Y/N.”

Still nothing.

“I’m not asking for a spa break. Just somewhere to sit before it gets pitch black and we fall off a cliff.”

She stopped walking. Didn’t turn. “Then sit.”

He closed his eyes. Counted to five. It didn’t help.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You want to go blindly charging into the dark, be my guest. 

She turned back to the path. “Whatever. Keep up.”

He did. Reluctantly. But his legs were starting to ache, and what little light they had before was nearly gone, so when they reached a sloping patch of ground beneath an overgrown cliffside, he grabbed her arm.

She yanked it back. “Don’t touch me.”

“We’re stopping here.”

“Like hell we are—”

“It’s dry,” he said, gesturing at the rocky overhang. “And sheltered. Unless you plan on building a five-star jungle suite in the next five minutes, this is it.”

She looked at it. Then at him. Then away. “Fine.”

He dropped his pack and sat down hard. The air was cooler here, shadows stretching long and blue. She didn’t sit right away—paced for a while, biting at the edge of a fingernail.

He didn’t say anything. Just watched her. Always moving. Always tense. She said nothing. Just kicked at the ground once, as if punishing it for existing, then sank down onto a flat rock with a grunt.

“It’s getting cold,” he finally said, noticing the slight chill on her skin, “I’ll make a fire.”

He crouched, gathered whatever looked dry enough. His hands weren’t steady—he was hungrier than he’d admitted. Every movement felt too loud in the dark. Then he started scraping the edge of a rock against a blade, sparks flying uselessly onto damp twigs.

“You’re doing it wrong,” she said, watching him from afar.

He ignored her. Struck flint.

Twice.

Again.

No spark caught.

“I know how to start a fire,” he muttered.

“Sure, you do.”

He ground his teeth, tried again. The steel skipped off the rock uselessly.

She sighed like it hurt. Then, without a word, snatched the flint out of his hand. Before he could even protest, she knelt beside the pile and with one deliberate motion—no flair, no drama—lit the fire.

It flared up instantly, like it had been waiting for her.

She didn’t even gloat. That made it worse.

He stared at the flames, jaw tight.

“It would’ve worked eventually,” he said.

“Sure,” she agreed, sitting back. “Whatever you say, boyscout.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like witch, but didn’t argue. Just sat down across from her, arms draped over his knees.

She stared into the fire.

He stared at her.

The glow smudged her features, softened the dirt on her cheek, cast gold across her lashes. For a second, she didn’t look like someone who could gut a man in five seconds flat. She looked—young.

“Shifts?” he offered after a long silence.

She didn’t answer right away. Just reached down, rubbed a spot on her calf where the skin had blistered raw. “Do what you want.”

“I’ll take first,” he said.

She glanced at him. “You’ll fall asleep on your watch.”

“I won’t.”

She stayed still a moment. Then she finally nodded. Laid down stiffly, one arm behind her head, the other crossed over her stomach.

He tore his faze from her figure. Just fed another twig into the fire, watching the embers pulse red.

Minutes passed.

Then—

“You really think they’re coming for us?” She asked.

The fire crackled. A moth flitted too close and singed its wings.

Jungkook didn’t answer right away. Just rubbed a hand along his jaw, eyes still fixed on the dark beyond the trees.

“If the chip’s still working,” he said finally, “yeah.”

“And if it’s not?”

That made him glance at her.

“Then…” He shrugged. “We keep moving, I guess.”

She nodded. Slow. Mechanical. “Right. Just us and the monkeys, huh?”

The word felt heavier than it should.

No watchers. No politics. No history. Just them. Breathing the same humid air. Sharing silence. Depending on one another.

She hated it.

She also didn’t hate it at all.

She scratched at her wrist. “I reckon one of us is gonna kill the other.”

“Probably,” Jungkook said, not missing a beat.

She smirked. “My money’s on me. I’ve got more reasons.”

“Your technique’s rusty,” he retorted.

“And your trigger discipline’s nonexistent.”

Silence.

Then, without looking at her:

“I wouldn’t kill you,” Jungkook murmured.

She blinked. Said nothing, but she looked up, caught off guard. Not by the statement, but by the way he said it. There was something quiet in his voice. Like something he didn’t mean to let out.

He cleared his throat, leaned back a little, trying to smooth it over. “You’d come back just to haunt me. You’re too stubborn even in death.”

That almost got a smile from her. Almost.

Still, she didn’t say anything.

Then he glanced up.

“Would you?” His voice was low. Almost offhand. “Kill me, I mean.”

She didn’t look at him. Her eyes stayed on the coals. Unreadable.

After a moment, she turned over onto her side.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” she murmured.

No answer to his question. No glance back. Just the soft thud of her turning away and settling into the dirt like she didn’t owe him a thing.

He bit back a laugh. God, she was terrifying. He was definitely screwed.

—

—

Hope you liked it!! Gimme all the feedback, babes. Are you excited for what’s coming? I mean, whatever happens in the jungle stays in the jungle, am I right?

—

Chapter 24

Masterlist

Taglist

@princess-sunshyn

@loumin908

@mageprincess7

@drunkzseok

@kelsyx33

@jjk970901

@sydneygal3107

@icravebooks

@kokoandkookie

@ukndtwme

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 14th

~*~

1. Hello, I am looking for a fic that I think is wangxian. It was based on the ballad The Highwayman, and it ends tragically. It should be a complete work. Thank you!

Found by asker as a Star Wars fic -

Nov 14 #1 requester, I think I’ve found it but it’s a Star Wars fic. If a wangxian version exists, I’m happy to have it, but I think it’s solved. Always fun separating out the fic memories from a fandom obsession transition period…

~*~

2. I hope you can help me find this one. It was a Twitter threadfic. In that LWJ proposed to WWX but WWX said no because he didn’t believe in marriage. They go to a wedding and the groom gets cold feet but LWJ helps him. Seeing that made WWX want to marry him but by then it was LWJ who changed his mind and WWX was heartbroken .

~*~

3. There was this fix where wwx was a funeral arranger? Or something like that and lwj and wwx established relationship but then madame yu and her husband died and it focused on like grieving and stuff, there was also yanli and jiang Cheng and showed like the sibling bond I can’t find it I been trying for ages now

FOUND? grave goods by luckymarrow (E, 28k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, mortician!wwx, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Marriage Proposal, abrupt tonal shifts, Tragicomedy, Comedy, Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Adoption, Implied/Referenced Abuse, for lan parents, it’s not described and is all backstory, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Married WangXian, brief daddy kink, the barest hint of consensual non-consent, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, BDSM)

~*~

4. Hello! I'm looking for a couple of fics I lost sight of a long while ago!

A) The first one took place during the Cloud Recesses Arc: all the swords are stolen at night by 'Wei Wuxian' who is later found badly injured in the forest. He had been attacked by the future Wei Wuxian/ Yiling Laozu.

B) The Second One took place after the Siege, and I'm pretty sure the spirits of the Wen Remnants attacked others? I don't remember much about it, I'm sorry.

Thank you in advance and I appreciate your service a lot

4A)

FOUND? For the Dust and the Dirt by Nyxelestia (M, 63k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, Cloud recesses study Arc, It gets worse before it gets better, WWX Whump, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending)

~*~

5. Ok hi sorry can’t remember much but school in tilling WWX is teacher there LWY moves there to teach also become friends a misunderstanding make WWX not speaking to LWY after LWY follows a Yao and finds WWX fighting it on a rooftop they defeated the Yao and LWY asks WWX “you’re wearing crocks?” WWX is that what you are going with …, or something like that

As always THANK YOU for all that you do for us 😁 @bkpmystinen

FOUND? An Unscheduled Stream by trippednfell (M, 68k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, Misunderstandings, BAMF WWX, BAMF Wen Popo, WWX cultivates resentful energy but keeps his golden core, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Presumed Enemies to Lovers, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, Time Skips, Dual Cultivation - Not the Sexy Kind but ALSO the sexy kind, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Horny wound tending) I'm not sure about the crocs bit, but WWX and LWJ definitely end up fighting yao on the roof of the school.

FOUND? Roadside Attractions by Bodldops (T, 10k, WangXian, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, The power of organized aunties)

~*~

6. Heyy! I'm looking for two fics:

A) Omegaverse, modern au, wei ying is an omega and jc is an alpha and wy lives w the jiangs and i think there's this sort of expectation that he's gonna marry jc or atleast that's what jc wants, but wy gets pregnant by lwj and moves out after a fight then yeras later lsz and jl go on a date and that's how wy and jc meet again, cos jc's there when wy goes to dinner to meet jl's parents and uncle and turns out its the jiangs obviously, and basically jc's really stalkery and jealous after that but lz protects him.

B) modern au, omegaverse, lxc goes to pick up lwj from school and finds out a kid jc is his mate. he's disgusted and goes away for a while. when he comes back jc is older now. i don't remeber much but wy and lz are the side couple and wy is a beta as far as i can remeber, and there's a scene where jc wakes up in the hospital and wy and lz are kisisng and jc's kinds like fucking finally yk but yea!

Thank you! Love you guys!!

@body-inabyss-heart-inparadise

6A)

I recognise the fic though I can't remember the name. The author deleted all their works from AO3 a few months ago, if I recall correctly. I know it's also been on other fic finders.

FOUND? 6a is Meant To Be (But Not That Way), dm me ~dripping-moonlight

~*~

7. Hello,

Ficfinder request.

Modern but with magic or cultivation. LWJ is a magical creature(?) hunter working for some kind of agency to protect humans.

The rest of the sects(from my memory) are families of magic creatures(?) but WWX has some kind of ‘half-breed’ status so when he goes through the magic/darkness detectors at LWJs work he doesn’t set them off.

Much of the fic is from LWJs pov but there is a great chapter from WWXs pov when he fully lets his powers out and we get badass WWX.

I feel like it was mdzs+ some anime but i don’t know which anime. 🥺 @empiresprince

FOUND? our reflections as seen (when the water stills) by chatonnerie (E, 121k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern, Tokyo Ghoul Fusion, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, This is a ghoul au, but everyone is also in university, so dumb energy is peak, Gore, Body Horror, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Biting, our reflections as seen (when the water stills) [PODFIC] by Opalsong) OHHH 7 IS THE TOKYO GHOUL AU IT’S SO GREAT AND ALSO THERE’S A PODFIC WHICH IS ALSO ABSOLUTELY AMAZING (I was too excited sorry for a million replies, but) It’s so good that there’s absolutely no tokyo ghoul knowledge needed, reads like a fun creature!modern!au kinda this way, has been one of my comfort listens for several years now

~*~

8. Hello, I am looking for a fic, where Wei Wuxian runs away from Lotus Pier, right after he was brought there and Jiang Cheng kicked him out and threatened with dogs (when they were children). I think that Wei found his father? Not sure, but I have a feeling that this fic was found here and I forgot to save it. Thank you in advance.

FOUND? 🔒 the world wags on by justdoityoufucker (T, 5k, WCZ & WWX, WCZ & LQR, WCZ/LQR, canon divergence, pre-canon, not everyone dies au, not Jiang friendly, past child abuse, canon Jiang family relationships, parent-child relationship, not YZY friendly, pre-relationship) has elements of the world wags on but it isn't a perfect fit.

FOUND? In Another Life by SingingInTheRaiin (M, 21k, wangxian, time travel)

~*~

9. Hi, I’m looking for a fic where after wwx is found during the sunshot campaign Jiang Cheng pretends his demonic cultivation is just the Jiang clan’s secret technique and uses that to keep the other sects off their back. I’m pretty sure it was from jc’s pov, and compared wwx, jc, and jyl to different bodies of water at the start of it (though I could be wrong about that part)? Thank you for the help

FOUND? Three kinds by apathyinreverie (T, 7k, wangxian, JC & WWX, canon divergence, protective JC, twin prides of yunmeng dynamics, soft WWX, smitten LWJ, worldbuilding, fix-it, golden core reveal, fluff, siblings) 

~*~

10. Hello! I'm looking for a wangxian reality TV fic. It's a dating show and lwj is a participant while wwx is his camera man. They try to keep their relationship a secret but by the end the crew discovers them and has wwx brought in as lwjs partner. I think lwj proposes to wwx at the end and that Mo xuanyu was involved as the participant who stayed the longest

FOUND? After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (E, 55k, wangxian, modern, reality show au, secret relationship, fluff & angst, happy ending, bachelor LWJ, cameraman WWX, smut)

~*~

11. Hello! I'm so sorry to bother you but I've tried doing all my own searches and just can't find it. There's a fic series where Madame Yu cut off Wei Wuxian's hand before the fall of lotus pier and the Wen siblings took him in to help him recover. He ended up leaving the Jiang sect and starting his own and he and Wen Qing became amazing at making spiritual prosthetics. I know it's a series and I know I loved it but I can't find it anywhere! Thank you for your help! @queerlyloud

FOUND? 🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

FOUND? 💖 from the other side of sorrow by Sour_Idealist (E, 127k, JC & WWX, JC/WQ, JC & WWX & JYL, JYL & WQ, WangXian, WWX & JYL, JYL/NHS, LXC/JGY, JGY & NMJ, JGY & WQ, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Fix-It, Golden Core Transfer, canon-typical family dysfunction, Torture, secondary character death, Canonical Character Death, Comfort Sex, Femdom, Choking, Cock Slapping, Cunnilingus, Series Context Provided, Under-negotiated Kink, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Clan Leader JYL, Sunshot Campaign, JYL POV, spiritual weapons, Sect Leader WQ, Biased Narrator, Slow Burn, sect politics, Trauma, D/s elements, Reconciliation Sex, Reconciliation)

FOUND? 🔒💖  in payment, a hand series by justdoityoufucker (M, 10k, wangxian, not jiang friendly, amputation, injury recovery, self reflection, abusive YZY, families of choice)

~*~

12. Hello! I started reading a Tangled x MDZS fic which I remember being pretty long. It was with lwj as Rapunzel and wwx as Flynn Rider. I started reading it but then decided I don't want to and now I regret it 😭. The part that I read was exactly like the start of the movie, with wwx complaining about how his wanted poster looked and all that jazz.

FOUND! we sit in the sunset glow by moonsteps (T, 36k, WangXian, Tangled AU, Fairy Tale Elements, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Curses, Sharing a Bed, Minor Violence, Traveling, Falling In Love) for the tangled AU, it sounds like it could be it starts just like the movie with Wei ying complaining to lil apple abt how he looks in his wanted poster😂

~*~

13. Hey buddy, Hope you are doing well!

I'm searching for a fic. The only thing I remember is just a scene. The cloud recesses is hosting lectures and and guest disciples from all sects are visiting. I think it is after the war with the wens. It's a cannon divergence I think. The scene I'm referring to is, two of the disciples are from Su She's (Su Minshan, I think the full name is) and the sect heir is just a kid below 10. At some point others makes fun of him and his sister when they present gifts at the beginning of the lectures and LWJ kinda defends them, I think....

That's all I remember. Thanks in advance! @grrumpywoof

~*~

14. Hello , I am looking for a fic where Jang Cheng dies instead of Jang Yanli at nightless city. Then she moves back to Lotus Pier and becomes sect leader, and lan wangji ends up living there too. Also, wei wuxian is brought back to life earlier, and by xue yang. lan wangjis back takes longer to heal.

Thank you!

FOUND? picking up the pieces by KouriArashi (M, 111k, JYL & LWJ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Regret, Family, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, Eventual Happy Ending)

~*~

15. I'm in search of two time travel fics: A) WWX has traveled back to CR. LXC hears him playing dizi (wangxian among others) and recognizes it as something LWJ composed (possibly same fic, though I may be conflating details, he realizes in lessons WWX is pretending to be less skilled at the dizi than he actually is). B) LWJ travels back in time from right after the 30 lashes and ends up in the burial mounds early w/the wens, still seriously injured and bleeding through his robes. Thank you guys! @moku-youbi

15B)

FOUND! The Cottage Amongst the Gentians by Enigmatree (T, 5k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Time Travel, LWJ and WWX time travel from post nightless city to before jin ling's celebration, or, I give WWX back to 13-years-grief LWJ like he deserves, Hurt/Comfort, Feat. LXC being a good brother who'd love to know what the fuck is happening, WWX goes to Gusu with LWJ after time travel; the fic, Domesticity) maybe?

~*~

16. Hi I'm looking for a arranged marriage fic where lwj and wwx both are in love with each other but the marriage is arranged by their families. On the wedding day wwx overheard a conversation between lwj and his best friend who also have initials of ww the best friend had found a letter addressed to ww written by lwj confessing his love and think lwj is in love with him and he is trying to convince lwj to not marry and give him a chance. Their married life is full of misunderstanding.

FOUND? A Marriage Story by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 38k, wangxian, NMJ/LXC, married wangxian, but there are some complications, because it’s marriage, Sex is complicated, Angst and Pining, Pining while fucking, Mature elements, Mutual Pining, HEA, Arranged Marriage, Sort Of, Misunderstandings, of epic proportions, One True Pairing, Good Sibling JC, Good Parent YZY, Fluff and Angst, in that order, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Loves WWX, Angst and Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

17. Hello! I would like to ask for help in finding a wangxian fic:

Modern with magic

I remember that Wei Ying got injured in Xuanwu cave together with Lan Zhan. In the Lan hospital he was denied help because he was fired (?) from the Lan org and later received a bill to pay for expenses.

He is saved by Wens.

Few years later Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen seek his help in some kind of case. Wei Ying says something along the lines of "I don't work with Lans".

Later Lan bros find out it was Su She's fault in how WY was treated.

I would really appreciate your help in finding it! ❤️‍🩹 @popugaj-ara

FOUND? 🔒 Wish I could forget the taste of your skin and the feel of your hands pinning me down by KizuKatana (E, 63k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, Modern Cultivation, weapons-grade thirst, Getting Back Together, Trying REALLY hard to not still like your Ex, but failing, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Canon Divergence, Case Fic, LWJ’s canonically big dick, sort of a ‘thirsting for your co-worker ex’ vibe, it eventually gets worked out, Mutual Pining, Guest-starring LWJ’s canonically poor communication choices after romantic cave encounters, novel canon relationship dynamics, basically this fic is about escalating sexual tension)

~*~

18. hi there thank you for finding fics for us

there is a fic where WWX is a teacher in Yilling and LWJ accepts a teaching job at the same school, they become friends and then a misunderstanding (not uncommon btwn them) WWX ignores LWJ LWJ follows a trail of a yao sees WWX fighting it on top of the school roof when landing he sees is WWX and then asks "Are you wearing crocs?" I think WWX tells him is a comfortable wear

please/thank you @mysticalyunique

FOUND? An Unscheduled Stream by trippednfell (M, 68k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, Misunderstandings, BAMF WWX, BAMF Wen Popo, WWX cultivates resentful energy but keeps his golden core, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Presumed Enemies to Lovers, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, Time Skips, Dual Cultivation - Not the Sexy Kind but ALSO the sexy kind, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Horny wound tending) I'm not sure about the crocs bit, but WWX and LWJ definitely end up fighting yao on the roof of the school.

FOUND? Roadside Attractions by Bodldops (T, 10k, WangXian, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, The power of organized aunties)

~*~

19. hi this is for the fic finder! i remember the fic so well but i fear it may be deleted bc i just can’t find it in my bookmarks? so wwx after dropping off the face of the earth due to Wen Drama is a folk punk (?) musician along with wen ning and they live in a van, and jingyi is a huge fan, he drags sizhui to a show where they realize this guy might be lwj’s long lost best friend <3 call lwj over and they reunite, lsz is actually wwx’a bio child whom lwj adopted, they get to know each other etc

FOUND? your heart is a muscle by howodd5ever (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pacific Northwest, folk punk, Adoption, WWX is LSZ's Parent, as in bio parent, WQ is LSZ's bio mom, brief mention of past wwx/wq hook up, chosen family, ljy and lsz are best friends, wwx is a folk punk singer, wn is a folk punk singer, Getting Together, Eventual Smut, fan boy ljy, protective big brother lxc, Happy Ending, I promise)

~*~

20. Hi! This is fic finder. A ghost WWX after the first burial moubd sige. His ghost is in YMJ. JWY makes WWX to teach. WWX trains JL. And then there are a conference in lanling where WWX goes too. Thats all i can remember. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (E, 107k, Family Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Mutual Pining, Parental WWX, BAMF WWX, he is a beast and I love him so much, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Ghost Sex)

~*~

[jecook]

Dabihawks Fanfic Recs #4

(In no particular order)

Fic Rec List #1 Fic Rec List #2 Fic Rec List #3 LoV Found Family List

it is what it is (until it isn't) Starship_Phoenix @starship--phoenix Complete Rating: T Words: 7,811 Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Dabi hates Hawks. Hawks hates Dabi. But then Hawks surprises Dabi with a trip to the mountains. With the captive audience he's always been waiting for, Dabi lets Hawks know just how he feels about the HPSC's new "Buddy Program;" society's new alternative to life-sentences. He also discovers just how he feels about Hawks.

Notes: Everyone loves an unreliable narrator, and Dabi has no clue what is going on. Soft story, bitter Dabi, and overall lovely winter read. Star weaves a tightly written narrative absolutely worth reading.

hit and run DrAphra @draphrawrites Incomplete Rating: T Words: 11,740 Chapters: 3/? Summary: A hit and run, of all things, is what changes the course of Dabi’s life.

Notes: I have reread this fic more times than I can count. I am an enjoyer of some serious hurt + comfort in the form of amateur first aid, so Dabi struck by a vehicle and left with only Hawks to care for him is the best meal in the world, to me. Aphra writes injuries and tending to them with precision that might make some squirm but truly brings a wrecked character to life. A must-read for lovers of sad, wet rat, injured blorbos. 

Kintsugi Stormysilverfox Complete Rating: T Words: 47,976 Chapters: 9/9 Summary: Dabi, person-roasting, hero-hating, A-ranked villain, is an omega.

It’s not necessarily a problem, only Hawks is fairly—hm, positively—certain that the pyro has no idea. It’s obvious what the HPSC would say. You’re an alpha Hawks, extort him, use a command on him. That was an unspoken order to honeytrap him then, since a command would only be as effective as Dabi’s affection was strong. Better not to tell them, better to pretend he hadn’t realised.

All his plans disintegrate around him when Dabi starts nesting in his apartment. Ironically enough, his biggest concern is dislodging him before he settles permanently, not exploiting him. He’s well aware that an omega will not give up their nest once it’s started, enemy apartment or no. And all without alerting Dabi to the fact that he’s even nesting at all, because Hawks has no desire to be cremated along with the other evidence once he realises.

Accidentally falling in love with him wasn’t supposed to be in the cards. Hawks fucking honeytrapped himself, like a moron. This was exactly what they taught you not to do.

Losing him to the Commission isn’t supposed to happen either.

Notes: Listen to me: are you nervous to read A/B/O? Open your mind to Safe For Work Omegaverse. This fic is soft, comforting, and honestly? I’m due for a reread. Like the title suggests, this fic is healing. A story to put you back together again, Kintsugi is a comfort read.

as we lay among the forsythias Goldtinted Incomplete Rating: M Words: 92,961 Chapters: 4/5 Summary:

“You used to love blabbering on and on. What happened to you, Keigo?” It’s the second time Touya has ever used his real name. He’s not as startled as he was the first time he heard it. The element of surprise is gone, but Hawks still feels something small and sharp stab at his chest. He wonders what Touya’s endgame is here. “I fought in a war.” He says simply, shrugging. Touya laughs again, louder this time, a cold, harsh sound that reverberates across the barrier and around the room. The guards behind Touya start to move forward, and Hawks can sense shuffling beyond the door behind him. “Well guess what, birdbrain? I did too.”

As the dust settles after the war, amidst social turmoil and societal reform, between three centimetres, seventy-eight square kilometres, and a dance of thirty odd steps, Hawks and Touya slowly recover. In the process, they find themselves falling in love again.

Notes: I totally thought this fic was complete until I started writing this rec. I’m shocked - I felt so fulfilled by this story that I just… imagined it must have ended. Well, still go read and support this fic and give the author lots of love for a wonderful post-canon that lives in my heart forever. Also, the narrative structure is so cleverly crafted and worth reading for that alone, not to mention the arc Dabi and Hawks take in this fic.

One more time (and maybe you’ll get it right this time) juurensha @juurensha Complete Rating: M Words: 19,677 Chapters: 3/3 Summary: “…sure,” Dabi says finally, “Do you think the answer is still with you joining the League of Villains?”

“Of course it is! Or else why do I keep rewinding to this moment here?” Hawks spits out, flinging his arms around. “But you know what? This time I need a break. I’m just going to go on vacation, and both you and the Hero Commission can go to hell, and maybe this time I’ll be able to tell what resets everything. Or who knows, this is what solves everything.”

Notes: More than just moving, this fic is a technical achievement. Not a spoiler–this is a time loop fic told from the POV of Dabi, despite Hawks being the one looping. I’m a fan of interesting story structure, and this one certainly delivers.

Minutes to Midnight Bacchant @transhawks Complete Rating: T Words: 51,645 Chapters: 7/7 Summary: "Something’s wrong," Hawks thinks again. "And this isn’t the right place to figure it out."

An unknown quirk that only shows itself as a mysterious tattoo on his arm sends Hawks careening into different worlds, all seemingly designed to make him ask himself what if he'd made different choices in his life. In each life, he learns a bit more about himself, and who he could have been, and gets closer to answering the biggest question of all: just who is Takami Keigo?

Or

Takami Keigo will travel to different dimensions, break out of simulations, challenge the established rules of quirk science, and bring a man back to life before going to therapy.

Notes: I tricked you! This one isn’t dabihawks! I’ve lured you in with sweet, sweet dabihawks only to show you this fantastic Hawks-centric fic. I know. Detestable. Well, if you’re reading this list, I assume you enjoy dissecting Hawks like a frog in a middle-school science class, and this fic does just that. Bacchant is a master of writing meta about our favorite murder bird and does so here through a collection of alternate lives he could’ve lived. The journey winds in ways you might not expect, and the ending those twists deliver will stick with you. For fans of Hawks, definitely give this fic a read.

-

Lastly, after fives rec lists, a shameless self-plug: I'm Haslenoot on ao3, if you'd like to take a glance at my work, as well <3

-

Don't forget to leave those kudos, comments, and subscribe where applicable! And if you feel so inspired, fic recs are a great way to engage with fandom, support your peers, and preserve fandom. While I love searching ao3, it can be a lot for people new to a big fandom! Many of readers enjoy rec lists, but often they can be hard to find or locked within Discord servers. Fic rec lists are findable through search engines. I've read fics off lists that are years old, which is, in a way, an archive of the fandom at that time. So make lists! Post them publicly! Hype up your friends!

And as always, happy reading!

[littlefoxwithbighat]

Details I noticed/ liked on my NPMD rewatch

[ ] In High School is Killing Me, Grace covers her mouth during the swears, Richie shakes and taps his pen while writing his exam and Ruth covers and uncovers her chest which is ironic considering what she later does to Max. Also, this isn't a detail, but Richie's (Jon's) wolf howl is astonishingly good.

[ ] I think someone else on here mentioned this a while back, but Pete's green and blue plaid bowtie and suspenders match Steph's flannel. However, it's not only those costumes. Later, he has a check diamond pattern on his jumper like the check on her flannel. Then, at homecoming, his red bowtie matches her dress. Stephs prom boots are also grey like Pete's waistcoat.

[ ] The blue white and green on Petes bowtie and suspenders also kind of match Richies hawaiian shirt. (They're friends and both losers). Then when Pete moves towards being popular he no longer matches Richie (hes no longer a loser anymore, or so he thinks).

[ ] Not a parallel but the dance moves Max (Will) does in Literal monster is SO on point for every awful jock i ever met in secondary school

[ ] People do pray for Max in literal Monster, like he implied he wishes they would after he died as he kills Richie, but not because they love him because they fear him and dont want him to hurt them. He later dies with his arms out like hes being crucified. hes the only one to break the 4th wall (stay in your seats) in this song. Lots of God imagery with this dude. Grace also tells him to "pray along" in Dirty Girl and then shes the one who takes over the god complex controlling murder role.

[ ] Jasons chestbump with Max sends him flying bc Max is so strong xD. Max also says he wont rest until he has sex with Grace which is what happens.

[ ] Richie hides behind another student before encountering Max in the hallway, and Stephanie before entering the bathroom (I think he also does at one point in the Waylon place but its hard to tell with so many super close ups). Anyway boy is a super scaredy cat at all times.

[ ] Ruth and Max both have the line "watch some porn! You'll see!" Cementing the idea that the nerd label is imposed by other people and not an inherent traits.

[ ] Grace's parents actors NAIL the awkward suburbian super christian vibe.

[ ] In the Waylon Place, Grace says the Waylons used "demonic rituals and SEX MAGIC" which sound like her being puritical but what does she do to banish Max?

[ ] There are a lot of fun mannerisms all of the cast inject into the characters. Pete scrunches his shoulders and puts his hands up, tends to point a lot or reach his hands out for emphasis, stands slightly bow-legged, often goes bug-eyed, and does a lot of small sarcastic or disbelieving "huh" laughs. Ruth spins a lot, crosses her arms, holds her arms slightly out from her body, rolls her eyes a lot, and usually stands at a lean. Richie is always nervous scratching, tucking his hands into his armpit, or scunching his fists close to his body, and when hes super stressed, putting his hands to his temples, grimacing with his teeth and shutting his eyes. Stephanie lifts her hand slightly in a "what?" gesture a lot, or puts her hands behind her back (she also moves and gestures a lot less than everyone else). Grace gestures a LOT, frowns really strongly with her eyebrows, clenches her jaw and tends to stick her chin up slightly (or in dramatic moments slightly down).

[ ] Ruth and Pete both make Star Wars references independently so theyre both fans :]] maybe they watched it together

[ ] Similarly, Richie is offered "tapes" (filming) and knows a lot about it and Ruth is a stage and lighting tech so they clearly have a shared interest in the technical aspects of media production.

[ ] Richie makes anime poses in both Bully the Bully and Literal Monster.

[ ] Ruth's backpack has a dino pattern on it :]] thats fun

[ ] Richies backpack has a wing on it and hes the bird mascot

[ ] Stephs backpack is black and white and Pete's is grey, matching monochromes.

[ ] Grace might know Ruth is bi (as she says when she declares Ruth is in hell) because she overhears Ruth telling Steph she might be in love with her

[ ] Richie keeps trying to set Ruth and Pete up because he thinks it would make them both happy to get laid lol

[ ] Pete says the costume he's wearing makes him look like Lin Manuel Miranda and then later had a bullet being shot at him in slow motion a la Hamilton

[ ] Pete reaches for Steph to make sure shes ok when Grace suddenly spins her around

[ ] Ruths little high pitch screech when Max shoves her away sounds exactly like Richies when Max uses his Ghostie Force Powers to throw him across the room the second time

[ ] Max bows to Ruth rather than vice versa: maybe because hes such a jock he doesnt understand theatre. Also hes spesifically complimenting her on acting, the opposite to before he kills her.

[ ] This one is maybe obvious bc Richie literally points it out but they actually do make Max piss his pants like they planned from the beginning. When Richie points this out, Pete gives him the universal "stop not the time" gesture, Ruth mouths "stop" at him and Grace makes a "no!" gesture.

[ ] Max emphasises his heart is beating fast RIGHT before he falls and it slows and then stops (we also see Steph take his pulse to double check)

[ ] Max's eyes actually roll back like when people really die before they close (Will is very good).

[ ] Richie is the only one who Grace doesnt ask to do something in Bury the Bully even though everyone gets a role in Bully the Bully (maybe because hes freaking out too much or maybe because he didnt film the fall and therefore screwed them over so she doesnt trust him)

[ ] Richie also says he has asthma and later dies after trying to run away for like at least half an hour and then drowning, ouch.

[ ] Grace is an UNBELIEVABLY smart and quick planner to think to use the plastic from the camera film straight away to cover the body and bury it in the floor. How does she know to do all this. She is SO scary.

[ ] Cannot be overstated how big of a freak Ruth is 😭 she is unbelievably enthuiastic about stripping Max's corpse and cutting his nipples after they've just killed him and is immedietly certain nobody will find him. No hesitation. No regret. Only concern with Max dying is not having sex in jail. We know Grace is unhinged but its causing us to underestimate Ruth's power.

[ ] Grace also seems to cheer when Ruth cuts off his nipples, whereas Richie groans in disgust and Richie, Pete and Steph all look away.

[ ] Pete and Steph should have advovated for saying he slipped more strongly, they might not have even got jail time, they had a pretty strong case for it. They presumably had audio from the camera of all him falling even if Richie didnt capture the fall visually and there was a giant hole in the floor where he fell and wood planks in his chest. Even if the police thought they set him up to fall the audio would prove they didnt ask him to stand anywhere. But then the Hatchetfield police do seem crazy. Pete is also the one who advocates most strongly for them to turn themselves in.

[ ] Richie seems to be the most enthusiastic about pranking Max and yet one of the most disgusted/ horrified by his death.

[ ] Richie and Pete have very differing views on nerddom: Rich believes the social order is immutable and theres no point trying to mess with it and any attempt would just bring more grief whereas Pete wants to climb the social ladder. This then changes in Go Go Nighthawks when Max is gone and the nerds are more accepted by their peers and Richie says he wants to social climb, so presumably fear of Max was holding him back.

[ ] Similarly, in Go Go Nighthawks, Richie is mentioned to be finally be on time and making an effort to be on time which might mean the reason he was chronically late before was because he was trying to avoid seeing Max or the other bullies in passing period. His lateness is probably also the reason the nerds didnt notice his abscence on Monday morning

[ ] This ones obvious but they mention they are free of the fear of swirlies... right before Richie is tortured and then drowned in a toilet

[ ] Richie is offered to join the swim team... before he is murdered by drowning. He's also dressed consistently in blues (his socks, backpack and parts of his shirt and sweatshirt) and I believe Jon said he wanted him to have blue hair.

[ ] Richies fall from when Max holds him up in the air and then suddenly drops him is INSANE physical acting from Jon HOLY SHIT. To hold all that tension in your tippy toes and then suddenly collapse that suddenly and smoothly.

[ ] Ghost Max can shut and lock doors, throw people and things telekenetically and also apparantly later split people jn half, slow down time and snatch bullets. Richie and Ruth had no chance.

[ ] (Richies death is really awful Vil N. Melling has a great video on it )

[ ] Stephanie is reading back over her test results sitting on the bleachers in the scene immediately following Max's death, probably because she's in disbelief that she got a passing grade

[ ] Bryces range between the cheerleader, the nerd and Det. Sharpiro is INSANE im so glad she got a leading role after this

[ ] Grace's relief after it turns out Richie was dead, so Max's body hasnt been discovered makes her looks SO cold she bursts out grinning. She also only seems to care about Ruths death in that it means she might be next and it undoes her plans. No regard for human life, this girl!

[ ] Grace's theme (the one you can hear at the start of Bully the Bully just before and and as she spins) gets faster and more uneven melodically as the play progresses and you can hear it everytime she comes up with ideas

[ ] You can also hear the Nightmare Time theme before Richie and Ruth die and the Show Me Your Hands theme whenver the police are involved

[ ] In Hatchet Town they call Hatchetfield hallowed ground... which as we learn from the black book, it kind of is

[ ] Ruths character in the BBQ monologues ends with them giving away their tap shoes and Pete later mentions he took 4 years of tap so he can dance with Steph... he almost fulfills that wish for her. Its also possible they took tap together and that "I used to dance" was literal for Ruth

[ ] Paul and Richie both tend to "uhm ackshually" people and assume they know better than others (Richie with Petes date and the physics joke, Paul with the neighbourhood watch and perp line) so maybe there is a family connection there.

[ ] Pete mimes swinging a bat... for the football team. Hes such a nerd he gets baseball and football mixed up.

[ ] Steph hides behind Pete for a moment during the summoning

[ ] Although Graces favourite colour is probably pink (her hairpins, backpack, shoes and duvet are all pink) both her prom and school outfits are blue and white... white for purity and blue like Mother Mary she is a Christian girl through and through. The blue and white also parallels Max who she desires and eventually turns into. Her hairclips after Max is banished are blue: she has fully embraced this part of herself. Also Jason has a blue tie to match her outfit when she goes with him to prom ;^;

[ ] Max says he knew high school would be his peak and used to worry his life would be over after high school, and then he lives suspended in his highschool state forever.

[ ] Also although Max sucks he offers to carry Graces books when he hits on her (thats far nicer than most mean jock flirting) and doesnt force himself on her and when he thinks the house is haunted his immediete instinct is to protect Steph and his immediete reacts to the nerds prank is being flattered and pleased by the attention and effort. Like, hes still obviously a person who has done awful things but its also clear his dad messed him up.

[ ] Grace puts her hair up in a ponytail just to take it down dramatically to flirt with Max... was she spending the 5 minutes she disappeared considering how best to approach him and what to say because shes never flirted before? Grace's hairdo also evolves throughout the show from bunches and hairpins, to a half ponytail with hair pins, just a half ponytail, a ponytail and then fully loose: her hair unravels with her.

[ ] The spins they all do after "and you believe in me" are SO clean they got MOVES

[ ] Jons other school character and Wills other school character in prom go together DIVERSITY WIN

[ ] Also laurens wig and dress are so pretty in this scene

[ ] Fencecollapsed made a fantastic video on this, but this ending is so sad for Grace in a way? The thing she values most is her chastity, not a person like Steph or Pete; she doesn't have that kind of external bond or trust. Shes clearly the outlier within the nerds themselves. She busts into most conversations unwanted, and she wins no new respect for saving the whole world from Max. She has to betray her religion (a religion she recently discovered isnt even true because there are actual other real terrible gods that have appeared before her and talked to her) and give up what she most valued having sex with a guy who kept hitting on her unwantedly (yes she has fantasies about him but fantasies doesn't mean its something she actually wants in reality) and she has to hide it from her parents and community in order to maintain any of their respect or love. Do Graces parents like her because shes their daughter, or because she behaves like a perfect christian girl? If they found out about it, would they still love her? Her ending parallels Max, yes, she did awful things already, yes, but like Max with his dad and death, she's acting out to regain a sense of control and purpose that she has lost.

[silverflameataraxia]

The IC - and this fandom - want to hate on Nesta for being "mean" or for "letting" Feyre hunt. People want to say that she's this selfish monster, but when you look at all her accomplishments throughout the series, it paints an entirely different picture. Nesta's traumatized, hurt, and depressed, yes, but she's also a fighter and she cares, deeply, about everyone.

I compiled a list of all Nesta's achievements throughout the books. (Let me know if I forgot anything!)

• Survived being physically and emotionally abused for years by her grandmamma and mother

• Stole a Duke out of spite because an heiress was cruel to Elain

• Begged family members to help them when they fell into poverty

• Chopped wood so her family could keep warm

• Resisted a High Lord's glamour

• Fought off Tomas

• Tried to rescue Feyre from Prythian

• Urged Feyre to go back to Tamlin, where she was loved and happy, which led Feyre to go UTM, which led to her freeing the Fae in Prythian

• Feyre wondered if Rhysand would even be able to use his Daemati tricks against Nesta's mind

• Agreed to let the IC meet with the human queens in her home, which would thus label her a Fae sympathizer, which could get her killed if found out

• Mailed correspondence between the human queens and the IC

• Urged the human queens to assist the humans beneath the wall

• Calculated how many ships would be needed to evacuate all the humans beneath the wall

• Urged the human queens to give their Book of Breathings to the IC

• Stole power from the Cauldron itself while it was boiling her alive and violating her

• Pushed aside her own trauma to watch over, and take care of, Elain after they were turned High Fae against their will

• Knew Feyre went into Lucien's mind

• Worked with Amren to try and repair the Wall

• Went to the High Lord's meetings to try and convince them to fight for the humans

• Went with the IC to each and every war camp to serve as a warning bell for when the Cauldron was being used

• Scried, and found, the Cauldron in the middle of Hybern's war camp

• Tended to the wounded during the war

• Was the only one to notice that Cassian was injured after a battle, and tended to his sprained wrist

• Was loyal to Feyre and never told the IC that she left the battle to find the Suriel

• Saved Cassian's life

• Used herself as bait for the King of Hybern - knowing she would die - so Feyre could reach the Cauldron

• Placed her body on top of Cassian's so she would take the brunt of the King of Hybern's power as he killed them

• Beheaded the King of Hybern

• Overcame her fear of bathtubs on her own

• Supported local businesses while suffering from depression

• Got multiple priestesses out of the library - some for the first time in decades - to come to training, and convinced Emerie to come

• Saved Gwyn from a terrible tongue lashing by swapping out books underneath Merrill's nose

• Is the only person to stand up to Merrill

• Made the House of Wind

• Almost beat Rhysand - and resisted his inherent dominant voice - while sleeping

• Scried successfully for the Mask

• Found the Mask in the Bog of Oorid and used it to summon the dead to kill - and behead - the kelpie

• Made the first magical weapons in 15,000 years

• Was the only one to tell Feyre the truth

• Was able to find the chamber with the eight-pointed star in the Prison when no one else knew it existed

• Scried and found the Harp

• Resisted Lanthys' seduction and quest for power and control

• Used Ataraxia to bind Lanthys into physical form before beheading him

• Saved Cassian's life

• Seduced Eris

• Made the charm bracelets for her, Gwyn, and Emerie

• Overcame her fear of fire on her own

• Cut the ribbon, thus becoming Valkyrie

• Passed the Blood Rite Qualifer

• Ran down the ten thousand steps of the House multiple times

• Served as a courtier

• Threatened Tamlin to not reveal the Night Court's alliance with Eris, and he never did

• Fought the Illyrian males who dragged her into the Blood Rite

• Saved Emerie's life

• Saved Gwyn's life

• Carried Gwyn as far as she could up Ramiel

• Was willing to sacrifice her life to stay behind and fight off Bellius and his friends so Emerie and Gwyn could win the Blood Rite

• Held the Pass of Enalius

• Refused to give Queen Briallyn the Dread Trove, even if it meant her death

• Saved Cassian's life

• Unmade Briallyn

• Possesses the Crown

• Saved Feyre, Nyx, and Rhysand's lives by using the Dread Trove and sacrificing her power

• Is the sole person who can contain the power of all three objects of the Dread Trove

• Is one of a few people who can wear the Mask and live

• Can summon the Dread Trove from anywhere, no wards can keep her from them

• Has a connection with the Mother

• Was able to tell that Bryce's tattoo was Made and that it was the Horn

• Used the Mask to help her kill the Middengard Wyrm

• Beheaded Vesperus

• Gave Bryce the Mask to help her defeat the Asteri

• Worthy opponent to Rhysand, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian history

• Helped to end the enslavement of Midgard

• Ended the threat to Prythian, and all worlds, that the Asteri presented

• Befriended a whole other world

• Got Truth-Teller back for Az

• Was gifted Gwydion

And to think Nesta has only been the MC of one book. Since we know her story's not over yet, I cannot wait to see what else she accomplishes by the end!

[gffa]

could you give your opinion, or examples from canon, about balance and the light and dark sides of the force? I keep running across fics where people argue that the Jedi are wrong and the dark side is just as necessary, and I feel like canon was clear that’s not what balance means in the Star Wars universe

Hi! First off, I'll say that I would recommend going around arguing with people's fic (not you're necessarily planning to do this! just that I think it's a good reminder), because those people must be allowed their space in fandom, just as we're allowed our space in fandom. I have found that I actually have a much better time in fandom when I'm just in my own space doing my own thing and ultimately this is just fandom, what other people do in their fic, so long as it's not hurting real people, is their choice and not mine, if I let that kind of thing go, it gives me more time to have fun with the things I do enjoy.

That said, sometimes we often get people coming into our spaces to argue and I do like to have my citations ready when it comes to that. Within canon, you're always going to be able to argue about unreliable narrators, even when you point out that all the Force-using dark siders are pretty much miserable villains, there's going to be people who argue.

And one thing that's tricky in my opinion is that the dark side is "necessary" in that it exists. It will always exist. It exists within the Jedi--but they have never denied that it exists or that it's part of life. It's just that they don't embrace it, they don't let it bite into their heart, because Yoda's speech in The Phantom Menace is 100% accurate. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.

And if people want to argue about in-canon stuff like that, my response is usually just to go, "I tend to follow George Lucas' Star Wars." and leave room for others to enjoy Star Wars from other creators, if they wish. It's not a value judgement, if someone wants to enjoy something from the Legends continuity--that's what it's there for! And it's not my place to tell them that they're not allowed to enjoy it or follow that version instead. I hope they're having a blast! We'll just agree that we're working with incompatible views on authorial intentions priorities. People are not obligated to take Lucas' commentary with the same weight that I do, so I always advise that we learn to let go of things when someone doesn't hold the same views as we do on this kind of thing, because ultimately that is the message of Star Wars!

SO, THE DARK SIDE, here's what George Lucas directly has said about it:

“The core of the Force–I mean, you got the dark side, the light side, one is selfless, one is selfish, and you wanna keep them in balance. What happens when you go to the dark side is it goes out of balance and you get really selfish and you forget about everybody … because when you get selfish you get stuff, or you want stuff, and when you want stuff and you get stuff then you are afraid somebody is going to take it away from you, whether it’s a person or a thing or a particular pleasure or experience. "Once you become afraid that somebody’s going to take it away from you or you’re gonna lose it, then you start to become angry, especially if you’re losing it, and that anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering. Mostly on the part of the person who’s selfish, because you spend all your time being afraid of losing everything you’ve got instead of actually living. "Where joy, by giving to other people you can’t think about yourself, and therefore there’s no pain. But the pleasure factor of greed and of selfishness is a short-lived experience, therefore you’re constantly trying to replenish it, but of course the more you replenish it, the harder it is to, so you have to keep upping the ante. You’re actually afraid of the pain of not having the joy. "So that is ultimately the core of the whole dark side/light side of the Force. And everything flows from that. Obviously the Sith are always unhappy because they never get enough of anything they want. Mostly, their selfishness centers around power and control. And the struggle is always to be able to let go of all that stuff. "And of course that’s the problem with Anakin ultimately. You’re allowed to love people, but you’re not allowed to possess them. And what he did is he fell in love and married her and then became jealous. Then he saw in his visions that she was going to die, and he couldn’t stand losing her. So in order to not lose her, he made a pact with the devil to be able to become all-powerful. When he did that, she didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore, so he lost her. "Once you are powerful, being able to bring her back from the dead, if I can do that, I can become emperor of the universe. I can get rid of the Emperor. I can make everything the way I want it. Once you do that, you’ll never be satiated. You’re always going to be consumed by this driving desire to have more stuff and be afraid that others are going to take it away from you. And they are. Every time you get two Sith together, you have the master, the apprentice, and the apprentice is always trying to recruit another apprentice to join with him to kill the master. The master knows that basically everybody below him wants his job.     “Only way to overcome the dark side is through discipline. The dark side is pleasure, biological and temporary and easy to achieve. The light side is joy, everlasting and difficult to achieve. A great challenge. Must overcome laziness, give up quick pleasures, and overcome fear which leads to hate.”  –George Lucas, Clone Wars Writers’ Meeting

“Happiness is pleasure and happiness is joy. It can be either one, you add them up and it can be the uber category of happiness. “Pleasure is short lived. It lasts an hour, it lasts a minute, it lasts a month. It peaks and then it goes down–it peaks very high, but the next time you want to get that same peak you have to do it twice as much. It’s like drugs, you have to keep doing it because it insulates itself. No matter what it is, whether you’re shopping or you’re engaged in any other kind of pleasure. It all has the same quality about it. “On the other hand is joy and joy is the thing that doesn’t go as high as pleasure, in terms of your emotional reaction. But it stays with you. Joy is something you can recall, pleasure you can’t.  So the secret is that, even though it’s not as intense as pleasure, the joy will last you a lot longer. “People who get the pleasure they keep saying, ‘Well, if I can just get richer and get more cars–!’ You’ll never relive the moment you got your first car, that’s it, that’s the highest peak. Yes, you could get three Ferraris and a new gulf stream jet and maybe you’ll get close. But you have to keep going and eventually you’ll run out.  You just can’t do it, it doesn’t work. “If you’re trying to sustain that level of peak pleasure, you’re doomed. It’s a very American idea, but it just can’t happen. You just let it go. Peak.  Break. Pleasure is fun it’s great, but you can’t keep it going forever. “Just accept the fact that it’s here and it’s gone, and maybe again it’ll come back and you’ll get to do it again. Joy lasts forever. Pleasure is purely self-centered. It’s all about your pleasure, it’s about you. It’s a selfish self-centered emotion, that’s created by self-centered motive of greed. “Joy is compassion, joy is giving yourself to somebody else or something else. And it’s the kind of thing that is in it’s subtlty and lowness more powerful than pleasure.  If you get hung up on pleasure you’re doomed. If you pursue joy you will find everlasting happiness.” --George Lucas, Academy of Achievement Speech, 2013

"Knowing that the film was made for a young audience, I was trying to say, in a simple way, that there is a God and that there is both a good side and a bad side. You have a choice between them, but the world works better if you're on the good side." --George Lucas Interviews

     ”[The Jedi] trained more than anything else to understand the transitional nature of life, that things are constantly changing and you can’t hold on to anything. You can love things but you can’t be attached to them, You must be willing to let the flow of life and the flow of the Force move through your life, move through you. So that you can be compassionate and loving and caring, but not be possessive and grabbing and holding on to things and trying to keep things the way they are. Letting go is the central theme of the film.“ –George Lucas, Star Wars Archives 1999-2005

BILL MOYERS: “Do you know yet what, in a future episode, is going to transform Anakin Skywalker to the dark side?”      GEORGE LUCAS: “Yes, I know what that is. The groundwork has been laid in this episode. The film is ultimately about the dark side and the light side, and those sides are designed around compassion and greed. The issue of greed, of getting things and owning things and having things and not being able to let go of things, is the opposite of compassion–of not thinking of yourself all the time. These are the two sides–the good force and the bad force. They’re the simplest parts of a complex cosmic construction.” --George Lucas and Bill Moyers 1999, Time Magazine

     “The core issue, ultimately, is greed, possessiveness - the inability to let go. Not only to hold on to material things, which is greed, but to hold on to life, to the people you love - to not accept the reality of life’s passages and changes, which is to say things come, things go. Everything changes. Anakin becomes emotionally attached to things, his mother, his wife. That’s why he falls - because he does not have the ability to let go.      “No human can let go. It’s very hard. Ultimately, we do let go because it’s inevitable; you do die, and you do lose your loved ones. But while you’re alive, you can’t be obsessed with holding on. As Yoda says in this one, [The scene in which Anakin seeks Yoda’s counsel] You must learn to let go of everything you’re afraid to let go of.’ Because holding on is in the same category and the precursor to greed. And that’s what a Sith is. A Sith is somebody that is absolutely obsessed with gaining more and more power - but for what? Nothing, except that it becomes an obsession to get more. The Jedi are trained to let go. They’re trained from birth, they’re not supposed to form attachments. They can love people- in fact, they should love everybody. They should love their enemies; they should love the Sith. But they can’t form attachments. So, what all these movies are about is: greed. Greed is a source of pain and suffering for everybody. And the ultimate state of greed is the desire to cheat death.” --George Lucas, The Making of Revenge of the Sith, 2005

     “The thing about Anakin is, Anakin started out as a nice kid. He was kind, and sweet, and lovely, and he was then trained as a Jedi. But the Jedi can’t be selfish. They can love but they can’t love people to the point of possession. You can’t really possess somebody, because people are free. It’s possession that causes a lot of trouble, and that causes people to kill people, and causes people to be bad. Ultimately it has to do with being unwilling to give things up.      “The whole basis here is if you’re selfish, if you’re a Sith Lord, you’re greedy. You’re constantly trying to get something. And you’re constantly in fear of not getting it, or, when you get it, you’re in constant fear of losing it. And it’s that fear that takes you to the dark side. It’s that fear of losing what you have or want.

     “Sometimes it’s ambition, but sometimes, like in the case of Anakin, it was fear of losing his wife. He knew she was going to die. He didn’t quite know how, so he was able to make a pact with a devil that if he could learn how to keep people from dying, he would help the Emperor. And he became a Sith Lord. Once he started saying, “Well, we could take over the galaxy, I could take over from the Emperor, I could have ultimate power,” Padmé saw right through him immediately. She said, “You’re not the person I married. You’re a greedy person.” So that’s ultimately how he fell and he went to the dark side.      “And then Luke had the chance to do the same thing. He didn’t do it.” --George Lucas, The Phantom Menace, An Oral History, 2019

 “The secret ultimately like in Star Wars is that you have to not be afraid. Fear is the enemy; fear is the Dark Side. If you afraid, you are going to the Dark Side. The Light Side is compassion. As long as you love other people and treat them kindly, you won’t be afraid. So, the secret is to just love everybody - I know that sounds very 60s but that’s what I grew up in - but it its fear that cause the problem. So you have to stop being afraid and be kind to everybody.      “The main theme of Star Wars is that compassion is the good side, fear is the bad side.” --George Lucas, Mellody Hobson George Lucas - Virtual Speaker Interview, 2021

     “The thing with Anakin is that he started out a great kid he was very compassionate, so the issue was how did he turn bad. How did he go to the Dark Side? He went to the Dark Side, Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachments. They can love people, they can do that, but they can’t attach, that’s the problem in the world of fear. Once you are attached to something then you become afraid of losing it. And when you become afraid of losing it, than you turn to the Dark Side, and you want to hold onto it, and that was Anakin’s issue ultimately, that he wanted to hold onto his wife who he knew, he had a premonition that she was going to die, he didn’t know how to stop it, so he went to the Dark Side to find, in mythology you do to hades, and you talk to the devil, and the devil says ‘this is what you do’ and basically you sell your soul to the devil. When you do that, and you’re afraid and you’re on the Dark Side and you fall off the golden path of compassion because you are greedy, you want to hold on to something that you love and he didn’t do the right thing and as a result he turned bad.” --George Lucas, Mellody Hobson George Lucas - Virtual Speaker Interview, 2021

    “Obviously, there are people that just do the easy thing, and the easy thing is to be angry, which turns to hate. It’s not an active thing; it’s a passive thing. Being angry with somebody is a passive thing. You have to work not to be angry, and if you don’t work at it, you’ll just be angry for the rest of your life. Bitter, angry, and of course that leads to suffering - it’s the bad side.” --George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005

    “In this film, [The Phantom Menace] you begin to see that he has a fear of losing things, a fear of losing his mother, and as a result, he wants to begin to control things, he wants to become powerful, and these are not Jedi traits. And part of these are because he was starting to be trained so late in life, that he’d already formed these attachments. And for a Jedi, attachment is forbidden.” --George Lucas, CNN, 2002

There's probably more, if you want to scan through my Jedi Culture and Teachings in Canon guide, just look for chapter 2 of any given part, the section on "How the Force works" is where I put any of these quotes, and you can look around if you're looking for more examples of how the dark side needs to be faced and overcome, that it's part of the nature of life, but that we and the Jedi both should be choosing the light, because that's the way to eternal joy, the dark is the way to eternal suffering. (Check out "Jedi and the need to focus, to be calm when using the Force" section especially, because the Force becomes unreliable for a Jedi when they get angry.)

Overall, it's about how the dark side is consistently, repeatedly tied to attachment (the fear of living without someone, so desperate that you'll let a thousand people die to save that one person you can't live without, as it's more aligned with the Buddhist meaning), tied to fear and anger and hate, which are parts of our lives, but that we must work to overcome. The Jedi don't deny this--look at any scene where they express negative emotions, Mace does it on Geonosis, Yoda does it at Palpatine before their big fight, Obi-Wan is mad on Geonosis when Anakin almost abandons his post, etc., but they don't let it bite into their heart, they let those feelings pass, they let them go and find their way back to calm and peace, because "the world works better when you're on the side of good (the light side)".

[deusvervewrites]

First of all: Happy Birthday Deus!

Secondly, I have more thoughts about the whole "The Villain must Die" thing. You already allude to it in your original post, but one of the reasons that people tend to dislike it is definitely the fact that, if they were to acknowledge & accept it, they feel they would also have to "blame" themselves for liking "bad" media that does not follow this "rule".

You point out Star Wars, so some people will simply read this as "If you enjoyed Star Wars, specifically Palpatine dying, YOU ARE A BAD PERSON!"

Which is not what you said, (and I assume not what you meant) but some people will just read this into things, and feel like they have failed some invisible "vibe check" or something by liking the "wrong" media, and it all starts becoming some weird purity test even if it's often only in peoples head.

Like, stop reinventing Catholicism over here, stories can have different meanings and lessons, and one single thing doesn't mean that the story is no forever tainted and everyone who ever liked it should be branded as evil or some-such nonsense.

To use an extreme example, Metal Gear Rising Revengeance very VERY much kills its villains. It also has a very strong and important message about politics and ideology and how people justify atrocities in it. It's a different kind of story with a different kind of message compared to things like BNHA. Also, it even implies itself that the protagonist might have been wrong in killing his enemies, the fact that he did so anyway and that that was the only way he could see is a flaw that the game directly points out! So good news, liking MGR doesn't make you "bad" just as liking SU or BNHA doesn't mark you as inherently "good" or "righteous".

People need to take a step back and consider that not everything is an attack on them or what they like. Good stories are allowed to have flaws. Because most of them do. Any you are still allowed to like them. That's also fine. You can even like something and criticize it anyway, that's allowed!

This is getting long, so I want to end with another example that helped me realize how much I love villains surviving:

Fairy Tail, and the Arc of Jellal. Long Story short, when we first meet Jellal he is THE WORST. Absolute scum of the earth, sadistic maniacal supervillain that, inevitably, ends up blown up in a big anime battle.

Except, nope, ~2 arcs later, he is back, with amnesia, and involved in some other villains plot. Over the course of the arc he works with the heroes but then regains his memory and is utterly devastated to learn who he was in the past, to the point that he tries to noble suicide sacrifice himself to stop the villain. It does not stop the villain, but he still wants to go through with it to "atone", until the hero that he had hurt to most slaps him in the face and yells at him to Live and Struggle.

Because his death wont change anything. It wont heal those he hurt, or revive those he killed. He can only make up for this, only truly become better, by living.

And, spoiler, he does not sacrifice himself, but instead starts to go on a long and arduous and messy journey of atonement and it absolutely rocks. It makes him and his story a million times better than if he had died.

Anyways, sorry for the second wall of text I send you today, once again, Happy Birthday and best wishes!

One of the many things I love about Metal Gear Rising Revengeance's dialogue on the nature of violence is that, as you said, Raidon loses the moral victory at the end. When he kills Senator Armstrong, Armstrong names Raidon as the inheritor of his ideals that Might Makes Right. The entire game shows Raidon martyring himself by sacrificing his morals in an effort to save lives, implicitly comparing this to real-world warfare

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 4: Order 66

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: The Dragonborn is plagued with tension and uncertainty as Thalia's secrets finally come to light.

Word Count: 9.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Fluff, Budding Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, and Death, Miscommunication, Distrust, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Criticism of Government and Authority, Criticism of the Jedi, Betrayal, Depictions of Order 66 and the Jedi Purge

Note: This chapter made me nervous, I'm not gonna lie. There have been so many depictions of Order 66 in so much Star Wars media but when you fold such a huge canon event into a fic like this...UGH. I truly hope I did it justice. Thanks to @courtingchaos for giving me a second look at that little snippet and giving me some extra courage, I feel so much better. And yes, if I ever decide to write Thalia's story, I will be pulling a Dave Filoni and writing it again.

Thanks again to everyone for reading.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Hyperspace, 10BBY

The atmosphere in the Dragonborn was tense.

No one said a word once they'd gotten off Outpost 86 and jumped to lightspeed.

None of them knew what to say, least of all Eddie.

They'd all witnessed what happened—the Guavians had too—and Eddie knew that he should have said something to his crew at least. He knew he should have gone and said something to Thalia. But as soon as the boarding ramp was shut, he had stomped up to the bridge, barking orders to his friends to get to their stations so they could get the hell out of there.

Now, safe and sound, Eddie’s mind began to race as quickly as the streaks of stars and nebulae that soared past them. He kept flipping switches and turning knobs to keep himself from facing the inevitable. To keep himself from facing the truth.

Thalia saved his life.

Yeah, that was one thing.

And she was a Jedi.

That was the other.

He was almost hesitant to think those words, but once he did, all of the pieces seemed to fall into place. All of the odd things about Thalia that he noticed suddenly made sense. The feeling of calmness that surrounded her, the connection he felt with her.

Did that mean she had read his thoughts? Or manipulated him in some way?

No, that wasn't it. Was it?

He would've known. Wouldn't he?

However, those realizations, those answers, seemed to raise new questions.

Because...she wasn't really a Jedi, was she? She was around his age, if looks were anything to go by; she must've been a Padawan at the time of the Clone Wars. He remembered seeing the names and faces of Padawans on the Holonet, wanted by the newly-formed Empire, and how horrified he'd been when he realized the implication that they'd be hunted down too.

She couldn't have been accomplice to any sort of treason against the Republic then. But there was suddenly no wonder why she had a negative opinion about the Empire now.

If she was a Jedi Padawan, that is.

And if she wasn't?

He'd been around the galaxy a few times. He'd heard whispers of Force-users in hiding, ones who weren't Jedi. They'd been hunted down by the Empire, too. Maybe she was one of them?

He'd never know unless he asked.

He rose from his seat and ordered G'areth and Dayv to keep an eye on things. Then he made his way down to the medbay.

Thalia, of course, wasn't alone when he got there. While he’d rushed off to the Bridge, Jeff had gone to tend to his blaster wound.

Admittedly, the guys didn't know much in the way of medicine. Bacta, stimpacks, and synthskin bandages. That was what they had, what they felt comfortable using. Anything requiring more than that, they could go planetside and seek medical attention.

That was the extent of healing that Eddie expected Jeff, who was a notorious crybaby when he was hurt or sick, to receive. But there was something to be said about having someone take care of you, instead of injecting yourself with a hypo-syringe.

Eddie leaned against the entrance to the medbay and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched D5-TN pass kolto patches for Thalia to apply to Jeff's injured leg. All while Jeff softly, but animatedly, told a story that Eddie—and Dustin, for that matter—had heard a thousand times.

"...and then I said to him, 'Strono, I know I just made you the best cup of Caf you've ever had, but you cannot propose to me. You can have the recipe though.'"

Thalia snickered at the tale Jeff spun, but kept working.

Even from a few yards away, Eddie could feel the calming energy emanating off of her, which caused the bitterness to rise within in him.

The story telling continued, along with hums and beeps and the ambient roar of hyperspace, until Thalia announced, "Alright, you're set." She clapped her hands together as Jeff swung his legs off the bed. "How does it feel?"

"Good as new," he grinned, attempting to jump to his feet, only to falter and nearly fall. She grabbed him as he gripped the edge of the bed tightly, and they worked together to haul him back upright. "Ok, maybe not as good as new, but close enough."

"To be fair," Eddie piped up, startling Jeff and D5-TN but somehow not Thalia. "You weren't in that great a shape to begin with. I've put you in the crosshairs enough times."

Then, for some reason, Jeff turned his attention to Thalia when he said, "Ed gets us into all sorts of trouble, but we've all made mistakes. Ask G'ar about the time he broke his wrist."

"I'm the reason G'ar broke his wrist," Eddie insisted.

"You tell yourself that, captain," Jeff scoffed. "Hey Dusty, you mind helping me up to the bridge?"

D5-TN whistled and honked; he teased about running Jeff over if he fell, which earned a deadpan laugh from Jeff.

Before long, though, they were gone.

And then Eddie and Thalia were finally alone.

The medbay hadn't ever really felt like a sterile place of healing, but it had come a long way since Eddie and his friends had taken their first excursion across the galaxy. If Thalia complained about having kolto over bacta now, she would've had a conniption back then. They barely even had a bandage and a bed to their name.

But now the small medbay had taken up a new purpose since she'd been onboard. It had only been a few days, and she didn't have much by way of luggage or belongings, but the room held the same energy she did.

A cot was set up in the corner, one she insisted on instead of the medibed, and a few changes of clothes set out atop a nearby cabinet. A datapad, a small commlink that he didn't realize she carried, and a handful of credits that, even from a distance he could tell, were a mix of old republic dataries and new imperial ingots.

The pack she'd brought with her to the Outpost lay on the floor by her cot, slumped and misshapen; with everything that was strewn about the medbay, Eddie wondered what might still be inside.

"Is that why you don't carry a blaster?" he asked once he finally found his voice. "Because you have a lightsaber?"

"No." She shook her head.

"So you don't have a lightsaber?"

She paused as she cleaned up the supplies she used for Jeff, then glanced up at him. She inhaled slowly. Pensively. 

"Now you're just putting words into my mouth."

Any joy or excitement that the child that still lived inside Eddie might've felt at the prospect of there being a real lightsaber aboard his ship was immediately extinguished when he began to demand answers from her.

"Why didn't you just tell me? Us," Eddie questioned desperately. "We're outlaws too. Criminals. It's not like we'd have delivered you to some imperial labor camp on a silver platter."

"Ignoring how...absolutely idiotic you sound to even suggest that," Thalia began with a scoff. "Say I did trust you not to sell me out; how would that conversation have gone? 'Hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm in need of your services and, oh, by the way I can use the force and need to hide it from the empire?'"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then how would you have liked to find out a secret that countless beings need to keep in the name of self preservation? Because I think saving your life is a pretty appropriate method. You're welcome, by the way."

He took an involuntary step back at the venom in her words, but recovered quickly.

"Thank you," he said softly, then pivoted back to the original topic. "I don't know another way that wouldn't have made me question everything, but some kind of indication that I was working with a fugitive Jedi would've—"

Thalia immediately squared her shoulders and crossed the distance so she could press a finger into his chest.

"I want to make one thing clear," she said, practically through gritted teeth. At this distance, her eyes even looked glassy with unshed tears, and Eddie felt his stomach drop, knowing that he was the one who caused them, in one way or another. "I am no Jedi."

Wait.

"What do you mean, you aren't a Jedi?" Eddie scoffed. "Of course you are. You just said you had a lightsaber...and you saved my life...and there's that feeling of—"

"There you go again, Moonsun," she said, voice more lighthearted than it had just been, as she poked fun at him. And she quite literally poked him again, prodding the same place that she'd jabbed him to get her point across just moments ago. "Putting words in my mouth. I didn't say I had a lightsaber. And I didn't say that I didn't have one."

"Do you have a lightsaber?"

"Not with me." Eddie clapped his hands together and just about shoved his finger in her face in triumphant mockery, but she continued. "But that doesn't mean I am a Jedi. And I have never been one either. I know...in the lift, you said that you'd always dreamed of becoming a Jedi...and I'll admit I had that dream fed to me once...but I don't understand how anyone would have dreamed of that life.

"The Jedi were the heroes of the galaxy...and I'm no hero." She held her hands out in front of her and then clenched them into fists. She looked back into his eyes. "But I'll do what I must to keep people safe, Eddie. To keep people alive."

If Eddie had been demanding answers from Thalia in the medbay the night before, his friends were absolutely relentless come morning. It seemed like the chance to let their thoughts and feelings simmer meant that they didn't carry the same chip on their shoulders as he did; they'd not only had time to process what they'd witnessed on Outpost 86, but also what Eddie had told him when he'd returned from confronting Thalia.

To be fair, after they'd parted ways, Eddie also cooled down and cleared his thoughts.

And Thalia answered their questions good-naturedly, as she had before. As if they were still asking about simple things, how the weather was on Dantooine, instead of questioning the workings of the force.

"Can you float things?"

"Sometimes."

"And can you read minds? What color am I thinking of right now?"

"Blue."

"Woah."

"But that's because you're staring at my hair, Dayv."

"Oh, kriff, you're right."

"Have you ever met Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Even Eddie looked up from his bowl of oats at Jeff's question.

Thalia was frozen in her seat, spoon just inches away from her mouth; her eyes darted around the table to each of the guys as they stared expectantly back at her.

"Eddie has a great impression of General Kenobi," Jeff added, as if the context would help. Thalia's eyes drifted to Eddie and she lifted a single brow in question. "Uh...well...he used to. When we were kids."

"I probably do a better impression of the Emperor now, to be fair," Eddie snickered and ducked his head back down to his breakfast. Still, curiously, he glanced up at her through his bangs. "So...did you ever meet him?"

"I'm..." she put down her spoon and ran a hand through her hair nervously. "No. I didn't."

The questions became more rapid fire after that, especially from Eddie as he picked up where they'd left off before.

"Who did you meet?"

"What did you do?"

"If you weren't really a Jedi, did you live in the temple?"

"If you weren't really a Jedi, how do you have a lightsaber?"

"What really happened when the Jedi betrayed the Republic?"

That seemed to be where the line was drawn for Thalia though, because she slammed her cup of blue milk on the table. She sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest.

The galley went silent, save for the shameful coughs and scraping of utensils along the bottoms of bowls. None of them were brave enough to meet her scathing gaze, especially not G'areth, who'd uttered the fated question in the first place.

D5-TN, who'd been sitting at his charging station in the corner of the little galley, was the first to pipe up. His blunt binary beeps questioned why Thalia looked about ready to murder when the Jedi were supposed to be peacekeepers. That immediately cooled her down.

"Supposed to be, is the key phrase there, Dustin." She let out a dry laugh. "Everyone is supposed to be one thing, and then they turn out to be something else. I'm the living proof of that. I'm supposed to be hiring you guys to haul something to Coruscant for me."

"Does that mean we can dump that container right into hyperspace?" Dayv chuckled.

"Does that mean we're not getting paid?" Eddie added, much more seriously.

"The Jedi were supposed to be peacekeepers,” she continued, ignoring their questions. "Not soldiers for the Republic. But that's exactly what they became, little by little. The Clone Wars were a catalyst for the downfall of the Order, but it had been a long time coming. Hundreds of years, not just over the past few decades. And this wasn't the first time in their history, either."

She got a faraway look in her eyes, and a bitterness in her voice.

"What made a good Jedi was that you could be a good soldier. That's how younglings were chosen as Padawans, even before the Clone Wars. Even before the possibility of war was on the galaxy's doorstep. And I wasn't fit for being anyone's soldier."

"So you weren't chosen?" Eddie asked. "And then you...what'd you say? You worked at a diner on Coruscant?"

"No." Thalia's brow furrowed. "No, that...came after. If someone didn't pass the Initiate Trials or they didn't get chosen as a Padawan, most of the time they got foisted off into the Service Corps to keep them useful. Education Corps...Medical Corps—"

"Well, we know you're not Medical Corps," Jeff interjected and then patted his leg. "You did a better job than any of us could've but, uh, if that was your job, I would be concerned."

The mood in the room lightened as everyone laughed and returned to their meal.

"No," Thalia continued serenely. "I was in the Exploration Corps. We would travel across the galaxy, scouting and surveying planets. Transporting Knights and Masters to different temples."

"So you've always been a sort of flight attendant," Dayv noted, along with D5-TN whistling his own question about what in-flight snacks were served aboard Jedi Order transports.

"You know," she snorted, "now that you mention it, I guess this was my destiny after all.” It got a laugh out of everyone. “I was assigned as an assistant to the researchers looking into ancient secrets of the Force. I'd always been interested in the history of the Jedi...in the deeper meanings in the ways of the Force. That's why I was shocked that you'd gone on a trip to Moraband. It's a forbidden planet."

"Forbidden?" Eddie smirked and leaned back in his seat. "Sweetheart, nothing is forbidden when there are credits to be had. Moraband is an untouched goldmine."

"It's full of tombs," she argued. "Corruption. Relics connected to the Dark Side of the Force. Even now, the Empire forbids travel there."

"Some senators love their tchotchkes." Eddie shrugged. "They buy, we'll fly."

"It's the ancient Sith homeworld, flyboy."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

Thalia let out a noise of frustration before pointedly turning in her seat so she faced the others more than she faced Eddie.

"Anyway, shortly before...before the fall of the Republic, I got partnered with a Jedi Master named Eno Cordova, who'd been researching ancient force-sensitive civilizations. It wasn't much in the way of travel, so, yes, I still lived in the Jedi Temple to access the archives."

"And your lightsaber?" Jeff scooted closer in his chair. Everyone leaned a little closer, even D5-TN, who rolled off his charging station so he could join the others.

"Was the one that I built as a youngling, ahead of the Initiate Trials," Thalia explained. "It's back on Coruscant. Someplace safe."

"Wait a minute," Eddie butt in again. "Hang on. You're a former Jedi whatever, with a functioning lightsaber, who's in hiding from being hunted down by the Empire...and you live on the Capitol? Right under the Emperor's nose?"

The others made noises in agreement and concern.

"Hidden in plain sight," she offered as an excuse, along with a shrug. "It always made the most sense."

She got a faraway look in her eye then, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

"The Empire..." She squinted her eyes a little in thought. "They might be looking for whoever they can to make an example of now. But back then? After…” She trailed off for a moment. “Well, they weren't interested in someone like me."

Before the others could ask anything else, she excused herself from the table and practically ran out of the galley.

"You know there's nowhere you can hide that I won't find you. This is my ship."

"I could try."

"Well, you happened to pick the one place in the ship where I go to practice the guitar alone," Eddie explained. "So you didn't try very hard."

The escape pod was small, and if Eddie was honest, it probably wouldn't do much in the event of an emergency. It's why they weren't too concerned with blocking it with their cargo. He'd had D5-TN run diagnostics on the life support systems and controls many times, to no avail. And they'd always been so eager to move onto the next job or planet that there hadn't really been time to test it in the safety of a spaceport.

But it was a small little space, away from the rest of the ship, where you could be alone. And they'd all taken advantage of that more than any of them cared to admit.

G'areth had even come to have a little personal time once, back in the early days. That's when the "no jerkin' it in the escape pod" rule was enacted.

It was astounding how quickly Thalia had acclimated to the habits of everyone on the ship, though, if she was here. Either that, or she'd scraped the idea of it from one of their heads with her Force abilities.

"It doesn't work like that," Thalia spoke, as though he'd said the last part aloud, earning a skeptical look from Eddie as he sat on the small seat across from her. "You were projecting that one, Nerfhead."

"Hey," Eddie scoffed. "Bantha brains? Yes. But nerfhead? Absolutely not."

He grinned at the little laugh she let out.

He waited for her to talk, to say anything; usually, he'd be the first one to pry, especially when that thousand-parsec stare that she currently had, appeared on one of his friends faces. He took a different approach this time, though. More along the lines of something his uncle Wane would do when he was lost in his thoughts or his worries.

Usually, for him, it had something to do with his dad.

For Thalia, though, it seemed like the Jedi were the sore spot that sent her into a deep spiral of thoughts.

They sat silently for a moment before Eddie hoisted his guitar onto his lap and began playing a soft trill of notes. A lullaby Wane used to play for him when he was little, right after his mom died and his dad ran the first time, so he could sleep without nightmares.

He closed his eyes as plucked at the strings. He let the sound flow through him, resonate with the space around him. One note after another, time passed slowly but surely, and suddenly Thalia was humming along with the slow melody.

He opened one eye and glanced at her as she watched his fingers move, humming in anticipation of each note to come.

"Do you know this song?" he asked softly as he continued playing.

She made a non-commital noise in response and then shook her head. "I'm not very musically inclined either. Don't ask me to sing. But...there are echoes...in the force. Usually they're tied to objects. Sometimes they're tied to people. Your music amplifies your ties to the living force. It's hard to resist."

Eddie wasn't sure what most of that meant, but knew that he wouldn't try to cheapen it by making a joke about how irresistible he was.

Instead, he said, "That must mean I am a pretty good musician, if the force likes my playing."

She cracked a small smile, but stayed silent as he continued strumming.

"Do you want to know why I find it hard to trust people?" she asked, unexpectedly, after a beat. Eddie was about to answer, but she added, "I would've told you. Eventually. But...do you want to know why I couldn't, at first?"

"Because I don't seem the trustworthy type?"

"Because I've been betrayed by people I thought I could trust before." She looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "Because even I've betrayed people who've trusted me before."

"Well, I'm not a snitch. None of us are. My friends have kept quiet about worse things than someone being a Jedi before."

"I told you, I'm not a Jedi."

He ignored her, and instead chose to joke with her. "So who did you betray? Do I have to worry about you giving us up to the Empire, instead of the other way around?"

There was a sadness in her eyes when she looked up at him.

"G'areth asked what really happened," she stated, "when the Jedi betrayed the Republic. The Jedi failed the Republic, and were betrayed in return. Which only led to more pain, more betrayal."

"That's cryptic," Eddie whispered. He winced and stopped playing, setting the guitar aside. "Sorry, that was insensitive of me."

"It's ok," Thalia assured him.

She offered her hand out to him, palm flat and facing upwards.

He thought it was just a gesture of peace, so he placed his hand in hers.

And suddenly Eddie wasn't on the Dragonborn anymore.

He was in a library, surrounded by rows upon rows of shelves containing glowing holobooks. Thousands of them.

The last time he'd seen a library of this size...well, he couldn't recall. The Academy on Bracca had a small library, and he had always liked to read, especially when he was younger and looking for escape from his mundane life. But anything he wanted, he could load onto his datapad from the holonet. There was no need for holobooks and no real space for them in his and Wane's flat.

Whoever had amassed this collection must've been very interested in knowledge. Or power.

But how did he get here?

He spotted movement in the corner of his eye, the flash of a shoulder disappearing down one of the aisles.

"Excuse me," he called out. "Could you help me? I think I'm lost."

He tried to take a step forward, but through his body, another body emerged. As though he was made of mist. A phantom.

The figure, decidedly human, took a few steps forward and then stopped and looked back at him.

His heart stopped.

It was Thalia, but younger. Much less worry on her face, lips upturned into a gentle smile.

Her hair wasn't blue, instead an unremarkable, muddy brown and it was longer, pulled into a thick braid that fell over her shoulder. She wasn't dressed in the travel attire he'd gotten used to seeing her in, or the traditional robes that would immediately bring a Jedi to mind. She wore something that was a marriage of the two—a tunic with an unfamiliar emblem emblazoned on the breast, and fitted utility trousers tucked into boots.

"Come on," she nodded her head in the direction she'd been headed. "Keep up."

"Wh-where are we going?" he demanded, but followed nonetheless.

Suddenly, there were more figures around. Jedi Knights and Padawans, he realized as he saw the lightsabers attached to their belts. Thalia had a lightsaber on her belt too.

They weaved in and out of the aisles, sitting at the tables in the middle of the room. The library, which had previously been silent, was suddenly consumed with ambient sounds of whispered conversations alongside the beeping and whistling of droids whirring around.

Was he...was this the Jedi Temple? On Coruscant? It had to be.

He was filled with that deeply-buried giddiness that he'd been trying to hold down since the truth about Thalia came out.

He was in the Jedi Temple. This was the place where the heroes of his adolescence walked and slept and ate and lived. Being able to witness inside the temple walls was everything he’d ever dreamed of. 

He couldn't wait to tell the guys about this.

He tried to take it all in, but was quickly disappointed when the details, the faces, were all blurry. Unfocused and unimportant here.

In this memory, he realized.

Since exploring on his own was futile, he caught up with the younger Thalia, who spoke with an elderly woman in a set of decorated brown robes.

Their conversation meant nothing to Eddie, really, but he tried to keep up with unfamiliar names, places, and titles of books. Zeffo, and The Tales of Light and Life, and something about Master Cordova. Hadn't that been the Jedi that Thalia said she'd been assisting? Did this all have to do with him?

The older woman seemed to get irritated by the end of the interaction, though, as a tight tight smile stretched across her wrinkled face. She still kept her voice peaceful as she offered, "Perhaps if Master Cordova needs all of this information, he could be bothered to return to Coruscant himself, but I'll see what I can do, Miss Trieste."

"Thank you, Master Nu." Thalia bowed respectfully and then turned and continued on her way. Eddie figured that he was undetectable, but he also felt the urge to clumsily bow to Master Nu before he followed after Thalia.

They walked out of the library and out into a wide atrium with marble walls that stretched upwards for hundreds of feet to a domed glass ceiling.

"What did I say about keeping up?" Thalia questioned impatiently a few feet ahead of him.

"Excuse me for wanting to get a good look at things," Eddie scoffed, but closed the distance.

"You'll see more soon enough," she insisted. "We just need to get there first."

They walked through endless halls and down winding staircases. Eddie noted how Thalia would nod and greet certain Jedi respectfully, and how most of them ignored her outright. Only a handful had stopped for a word of greeting, most of them as young as she was—Padawans she must have trained with as a youngling.

"Why don't the others say anything back to you?" he asked.

"Because I'm nobody," she explained. "At least, it felt that way."

"But—"

"W-will you shut up?"

As the words spilled from her lips, a feeling descended upon Eddie, like an inescapable wave from an endlessly deep ocean. A rumble of building anticipation, like boots stomping in tandem, and then a sudden crash of emotion that nearly brought him to his knees.

Pain, fear, panic, despair.

Death.

An explosion as bright as a thousand supernova, then nothing, as uf it was snuffed out in an instant.

Ripples of catastrophic energy hit him again and again. Suddenly the vastness of the Jedi Temple that he had been in awe of began closing in on him as this world attacked him.

Then came the blaster fire.

Thalia seemed to have quick reflexes, and she was able to duck behind a pillar as that first bolt was released from the blaster of an approaching clone. But others weren't so lucky. Eddie, in his incorporeal form and frozen with the assault of his senses, remained in the middle of the hall.

He witnessed the relentless approach of the clones from an intersecting hallway, the flurry of sizzling blaster bolts, and the ignition of at least a dozen lightsabers as their owners quickly sought to defend the onslaught.

It didn't help though, and bodies fell quicker than Eddie could really keep up with. One mis-timed slash of a lightsaber, and suddenly a new wave of pain shot through him. One blaster bolt deflected, ricocheting off a wall, and found its way into the poorly protected neck of a clone trooper, and he was assaulted by another wave.

Screams and cries echoed around him, not just from Thalia or the surrounding Jedi...but from all directions. Every hallway, every corner of the temple.

Every corner of the galaxy.

It was a barrage of the mind. Of the soul.

And Eddie realized that he wasn't simply confronted by his own emotions, his own fear and despair, over witnessing all of this, but also those of beings surrounding him.

His eyes finally shifted from the massacre, to Thalia who was also frozen in fear as she cowered behind that pillar.

No. He wasn't the one being hit with those emotions.

Thalia was.

He only felt it because he was here in her memories.

Blaster fire, clones, and an attack on the Jedi Temple. He had a memory of this night as well, the horror he felt at the news. But his memory of this existed in the safety of his datapad screen. Thalia had lived this firsthand.

She had to survive.

He finally found the courage within him to move. He took several steps towards her and knelt down to her level to offer a hand.

"Come on," he urged. "Let's go."

She ignored him. Looked past him.

"I said let's go."

Her eyes followed every blaster bolt that passed until they slowed, and then stopped.

Eddie could feel the barrage of emotion start to lessen as Thalia took deep breaths and waited. After a few beats of silence and stillness, coldness was all that remained. Emptiness.

And an echo of fear.

"There is no fear," she whispered to herself. Or maybe to Eddie, as her eyes finally focused on him. "There is only peace."

"Well, I'm plenty scared," he whispered back to her.

She hoisted herself to her feet and slowly stepped back into the center of the hallway. She tip-toed over the bodies where Eddie just walked atop them. Through them. She didn't have the luxury of being a ghost here; this was real to her.

Thalia's booted feet toed at lightsaber hilts that fell from limp hands, and she paused in consideration, before she reached the first clone that had fallen in the hallway. She knelt down and pried the blaster from its hands.

"I thought you didn't like blasters," he commented.

She took another deep breath and began, lip quivering. "The force is everywhere. It binds us. Surrounds us. If we focus on it, it can help us find the answers we seek."

She pointed the blaster at him, through him, down the way the clones had arrived. "There are more of them down there." Eddie turned his head and then looked back at her.

"It doesn't take a Jedi to figure that out," he deadpanned, but she ignored him. Then she turned and pointed in the direction they came.

"They're also that way," she explained. "I can feel them. Can you?"

"I don't know, I'm not—" He stopped short as there was the slightest tickle in his mind. Outside of the cold emptiness, he felt the looming presence of danger. The despair, the pain that had assaulted him earlier. Not just the individual feeling of the clones themselves as they attacked, but the carnage they left in their wake.

Yes, if he and Thalia doubled back the way they came, towards the library, they'd encounter clones. But not as many as they would if they soldiered ahead.

"Lead the way, then." He gestured forward to young Thalia, and then followed her as she began to navigate through the sea of corpses. "Why don't you use your lightsaber?"

"I'm out of practice," she explained. "Members of the Service Corps still wear them, but they're more for show. I'm not a soldier, remember?"

"But you'll fire a blaster."

She ignored him again and kept creeping further down the hall. Until she came to a crossroads where several living Jedi ran past, scrambling for their weapons as they fled. Or maybe ran towards the attacking clones to try and defend...

Their home.

"Was this your home?" he asked Thalia.

"That's a stupid question." There was obvious annoyance in the way she flicked her braid over her shoulder and held her blaster at attention.

"There are no such things as stupid questions."

"Just stupid people." It felt like an insult. It was probably meant to be one. "Don't try to distract me."

They kept walking, confidently. Thalia was able to take out a few clone troopers as she came across them, but she had been right. She wasn't a soldier. She was sloppy with her aim, but she was quick to anticipate their movements.

"Why don't you use the force?" he asked as she ducked behind another pillar.

"It doesn't work that way!" She shouted at him.

The momentary distraction led to a blaster bolt hitting the pillar, close to her head, and she fell to the ground as it exploded in with shards of marble and dust.

Eddie felt as disoriented as she was, heard the ringing in his ears that she must've heard. But when it cleared and she sat up, she was immediately alert and attentive.

Especially when she spotted the two figures dispatching of the troopers that had taken the shots.

"Steev! R'sshekh!" Thalia shouted and scrambled to her feet once the coast was clear. They both turned towards her—a young human man and a trandoshan, both with disheveled robes and lightsabers drawn—and started in her direction.

She pivoted, blaster in hand to make sure the coast was clear, before she ran to join them. The human padawan deactivated his saber and pulled Thalia into a relieved hug.

"You're alive," he said, words muffled by the shoulder of her tunic. "They...the clones...they're killing everyone."

"I know, Steev. I saw Master Pace try to seal off the East Wing. There was only so much blaster fire he could deflect."

R'sshekh said something in Dosh, unintelligible to Eddie, but Thalia and Steev seemed to understand. They parted from one another.

"You're right," Steev nodded. "We need to get to the hangar. Get a ship, go to the senate."

"Are you crazy?" Thalia practically screeched. "I'm sure they'll have the hangar guarded. And the senate? The clones aren't acting alone; someone ordered them to attack. We need to get out of the temple as quickly as we can."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Steev asked impatiently, hands falling to his hips.

R'sshekh spoke again, but Thalia talked over him.

"The service ducts," she said. "The ones we used to explore. If we find the right one, it'll spit us out into The Works."

Steev wrinkled his nose in disgust and scoffed. "Those dusty old tunnels are full of the rotting husks of ancient droids. I'm not going down there again."

"Then do you want to take your chances trying to go out the main entrance?" Thalia asked, voice laden with sarcasm, as she gestured down an adjacent hallway. "I'm sure the coast is clear."

Steev and R'sshekh glanced at each other and then gestured for Thalia to lead them onwards. She looked past them at Eddie and then tilted her head to get him to follow as well.

As if he even could wander off on his own.

The journey was a blur. More winding hallways and stairs, more troopers firing, but Thalia could trust one of her companions to defend her. Especially that Steev kid, who'd jump to her aid and then scold her for being reckless.

At one point, Eddie skipped ahead and tried to whisper in her ear, "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Jedi aren't allowed to form attachments," she snapped at him defensively, then paused. "But yes, he was my friend. And R'sshekh. We were all from the same crèche."

"Well, Steev kind of seems like a jerk."

Thalia looked over her shoulder at Steev, and then sighed. "Yeah. He was."

Eddie noticed her use of the past tense, and he felt a pit open up in his gut.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No!"

"We've been walking forever."

"The kid has a point," Eddie piped up from the back of the group, earning a scathing glare from young Thalia. "We have been walking forever."

R'sshekh seemed to agree with Eddie and Steev as well, if their intonation was any indicator, and Eddie gestured at the Trandoshan in an "I told you so."

"Thank you, Thalia, for getting us to safety," Thalia said, deepening her voice to match the timber of...well, truly any of them. "Thank you for having the good sense not to follow us blindly as we got ourselves killed." She made a crude hand gesture to them all to punctuate her point and then kept going.

Eddie had lost all sense of direction by this point. Up, down, left, right. They were in a hallway that didn't seem like a hallway anymore. He wasn't even sure they were even in the Jedi Temple, but the distant sound of blaster fire and the ignition of lightsabers assured him that, yes, they were.

The three older teens had picked up some stragglers along their stealthy escape from the temple. Another padawan with a wounded shoulder, her arm now stabilized and tied to her torso with a ripped piece of Steev's robe. They’d also found two younglings cowering behind a pile of twisted trooper bodies. R'sshekh took to holding each of the small children's hands as they continued on their way.

Eddie felt aware of every step he took, felt each of their weariness and the sting of any injuries, because Thalia felt them.

And when fear suddenly gripped her, he felt it too.

"Go on ahead," she told the others as she stopped in her tracks. "The old tunnels start up ahead. And then we keep going until we hit the pipeworks. We can take a break there."

All the kids groaned but kept going.

Until it was just Thalia and Eddie.

"You wanna show me something?" he questioned.

"Not specifically," she responded with a sigh. "But I had noticed something then...so you need to see it, too, now."

She waved him over and revealed the vent she had hidden behind her. It was a small grate, big enough for one of the younglings to crawl through maybe, if that was the reason she noticed it. But as he got closer, he saw that it overlooked, what he believed to be, the vast Great Hall of the Jedi temple.

He couldn't even enjoy the majesty of it—the towering statues or aurebesh carvings that lined the ancient walls, or the way that the rising sun streamed in and made the marble pillars sparkle—because it was full of the dead. Jedi and Clones alike. And there was a whole legion of clone troopers spread throughout the hall, armed and ready for any living Jedi to be taken care of as they attempted to escaoe.

"Turns out these tunnels weren't such a bad idea, after all," Eddie stated lightly.

"Watch," Thalia hissed.

Two cloaked figures strode through the hall then, from the far threshold that led into the depths of the temple, back towards the steps that led out to Coruscant.

A cloud of darkness seemed to follow them, as dark as the cloaks that they wore. Eddie could feel it, even from the distance, with half of the Great Hall and the thick marble walls separating them. It slithered up his throat, grabbed him, choked him.

But he couldn't look away.

One of the figures stopped and surveyed the devastation, and they toed at the leg of a nearby body, before cackling. Twisted hands raised towards the sky in vile jubilation, and then returned to their limp position before the hooded figure.

"Good, Anakin, good," the familiar, rasping voice echoed through the hall. The other figure dropped to one knee, and dropped their head in deference. "You have done well, my new apprentice. Now, go and bring peace to our Empire."

Eddie felt a chill in recognition. He knew that voice. Everyone knew that voice—

Chancellor Palpatine...The Emperor.

—And he knew that name. Or maybe he didn't, not really. Not at all.

Anakin Skywalker, one of the greatest heroes of the republic.

Eddie recoiled from the vent and shook his head.

"No," he forced out through gritted teeth. "No. It can't be."

"I thought so, too," Thalia said sadly, and when she finally turned to look at him, he saw tears dripping down her cheeks. Kriff, he felt his own tears begin to sting the corners of his eyes. "But it was true."

Anakin Skywalker. General Skywalker. The poster boy of the Republic. The Hero With No Fear. How many interviews had he done on the HoloNet, how many times had Eddie and his friends hero-worshipped Anakin alongside his fellow Jedi? How many times had Eddie considered spending the few measly credits of allowance he got from Wane on a war bond just because Anakin's face had been plastered on every screen in the Terrace?

"He wouldn't betray the Jedi."

"He did."

"He was a hero."

"He was seduced by the Dark Side."

"He wouldn't do that...the Jedi were his family. His friends."

Then there was an echo in the air, as Thalia spoke to him through the Force.

"Anakin betrayed his friends. And so did I."

He was about to ask for clarification when was thrown from the tunnel, and the world swirled around him. Images flashed before his eyes of the ragtag group of kids climbing out of a filthy pipe in The Works on Coruscant. Their slow trek across the city to CoCo Town where they found refuge at a diner. Dex's Diner. The days and weeks that they stuck together to care for each other.

He felt like he was going cross-eyed at the sheer speed and volume of the information being filtered directly into his mind; it was almost painful, and Thalia was in control. He didn’t understand what she was trying to convey, until he followed her younger self through the day her world changed.

The moments leading up to it were deceptively quick. A day as uneventful as any, as she volunteered to venture out alone and find supplies. But she’d made a stupid mistake. Sympathetic to the cries of the younglings who missed the only home they’d ever known, she’d ventured back to the Temple through the tunnels they’d escaped through to fetch belongings that couldn’t be replaced. And upon her return? She was chased down winding streets by the Coruscant Security Forces and captured.

Then he was in a room, lit by only a faint, red light emanating through the grated floors. He couldn’t move, no matter how much he thrashed and shook. His arms and legs were locked in place; he could see Imperial interrogation droids floating in his peripheral vision, and a scan grid hanging menacingly overhead, waiting to be lowered onto him.

“Let me go!” He tried to yell, but the voice that came from his mouth was not his, but Thalia’s. “Help! Help me!”

A blast door opened and clone troopers filed in, along with a ghastly figure dressed in black and red. A Pau’an male who looked sickly and monstrous, but grinned menacingly as he approached. 

“You’ll tell us where they are,” he droned in a terrible voce. “It. Is. Inevitable.”

More images flashed before Eddie’s eyes, of this same man. Healthy and friendly, Hen-ri, a Jedi Temple Guard that had known Thalia and her friends; how had he become…this thing? Corrupted by the Empire? A slayer of the Jedi, instead of a protector of them.

Just like Anakin had been.

“You’re gonna have to kill me,” he…Thalia…spat.

“If that’s what it takes,” he droned and waved to the troopers.

He couldn’t dwell on his emotions for much longer because pain was the only thing he felt. Shocks and burns from the scan grid, injections from the floating interrogation droids. 

They starved her, beat her.

Until she begged them, whimpered for them to stop.

Until she gave them the location of her friends.

Eddie felt the hot, burning pain in his heart as he felt the words fall from her lips; for a second, he couldn’t blame her, as his head drooped weakly and the world went dark.

But when his eyes opened again…there stood a beaten and bloody Steev standing across from him. Across from Thalia. He was being held back by troopers, Jedi robes drenched in blood, as he thrashed and screamed and bared his teeth.

Thalia blinked once. Twice. And then her gaze shifted back down at the ground, and saw the bodies of the children–the younglings and R'sshekh–strewn about the floor. Dead.

There was a flash of light, burning and hateful and shockingly red.

And Eddie was thrown from her body as she screamed, as chaos reigned as her control of the Force became untethered. The sight of the walls of the room caving in on themselves was last thing he saw before he returned back to the real world.

He gasped for breath as he was shoved back into his body in the escape pod. Back with Thalia, the real Thalia, older and wearier and with blue hair. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he immediately rubbed his eyes to get them to stop.

He felt sick, the images of those kids burned into his eyelids. The sound of Steev and Thalia’s screams echoed in his ears.

"What was that?" He barked out the demand, voice scathing and viscous. "Why did you show me that?"

Thalia pulled her hand back to her lap; she cradled it in the other hand, as though she was protecting it from further harm.

Maybe she was...but not harm to herself. Harm to him. Harm that she caused him; he still felt the phantom pains of her torture. And he didn't want to snap at her again, after feeling the barrage of her anguish, but he did.

"Thalia!" She jumped at his bark. He demanded answers. "Why?"

"Because you had to know!" She snapped back at him. "I betrayed them."

"You...you survived." He shook his head incredulously. "You had to survive, you were just a kid too. But why would you show me that way?" he questioned. He got to his feet and stood over her. "Why would you take me though the day that the order fell...and then..."

"How else could I tell you about the most shameful days of my life?" she asked, getting to her feet as well. "I've relive those days enough. Constantly. My mistakes. My weaknesses. You think I just survived? I…I chose to survive rather than die for those kids…for my friends. Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't die for your friends?"

She breathed heavily and stared directly into his eyes, daring him to lie to her. When he didn't answer, she grabbed the front of his jacket desperately.

"Your friends trust you. Just like my friends all trusted me. And I let them down."

"It's in the past," he muttered. "You have to move on. You can't fix it...can't change it."

"And that's exactly what I'm doing," she nodded. "It's what I do next...how I fix those mistakes...that's important.

"I showed you that day because I needed you to...to know. You found out what I am before I got the chance to tell you anything, Eddie. I wish...I wish I could've told you the truth but I needed to know I could trust you with all of it. You're still...you're still angry, still confused abut why I couldn't; I can sense it in you.

"But I need you to understand that the capability for betrayal lies with more than simply trusting someone. I betrayed my friends…I brought them to certain death, even though I said I would die for them. Which is why I did it this way, why I had to make sure I could trust you with my secrets before I revealed them to you."

Why would she do that? Why would it matter?

He was not a jedi. He was just a smuggler. He was nobody, nothing, a stranger. He wasn’t a part of her journey, wasn’t a part of anything. And she'd deliberately put him and his crew in danger. Even more danger, now that he knew that she'd escaped...not only the purge of the Jedi Order, but the clutches of the Empire itself.

So why had this experience shaken him as badly as it did?

He took a breath, swallowed, and steeled himself; he still wasn't comfortable with Thalia being able to read him as easily as she was able to.

"Well, thanks for trusting me with that," he said dismissively. "It's been nice to meet the real you, Thalia. It'll just be a few more days until we'll arrive on Coruscant and you'll be on your way."

"Eddie, please—" She stared at him with pleading eyes but he refused to look, refused to understand what it was she was trying to convey.

"And you don't have to worry about me or any of my crew keeping this a secret. We know how to keep our mouths shut."

"But that isn't enough," Thalia snapped.

"What do you want then?" He shook her hands off of him and stomped out of the escape pod. "Do you want...absolution? Is that what you're looking for? You can't forgive yourself? Well newsflash, I can't forgive you either; I don't even know you. You know what? You want my help? I've heard there are cults in the Unknown Regions who do things like that. We can change course right now."

"I need you to listen to me!"

"I think I've heard enough!"

There were aggressive beeps and the sound of footsteps walking down the ramp to the lower deck.

"What's going on down here?" Dayv demanded.

"It sounds like you let a bunch of Rancors fight," G'areth added.

D5-TN rolled over to Thalia and questioned if she was ok through a series of gentle whistles.

"If she's ok?" Eddie scoffed. "What about me? I'm your captain."

"Hey." Jeff crossed the short distance and slapped a hand on his shoulder then shook him a little bit. "It'll be ok, just take a few breaths. Why're you so upset?"

"Let Miss Mind Meld over there take you on a journey across time and space and you'll understand why I'm upset," Eddie scoffed and threw a hand out at Thalia. "But I'm sure if she did, you'd all want to toss her out into deep space. I think we were better off when she was still keeping secrets!"

"Did she tell you what's in that container?" Jeff asked.

"No!"

"I was about to, actually," Thalia cut in. Her brows were raised expectantly and she had her hands on her hips in a stance that, Eddie recognized, mirrored Steev's.

"Well, I wish you wouldn't," he told her weakly. "I can't deal with anymore...emotional turmoil today."

She muttered a few choice words under her breath and then began walking down to the cargo bay. D5-TN was hot on her heels, and Dayv and G'areth were soon to follow.

"C'mon," Jeff urged Eddie lightly. "It can't be worse than...whatever that was."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Eddie grumbled, but let his friend push him forward.

"The day the Republic fell," Thalia recounted as she stepped around the container, pressing seemingly unassuming panels at random intervals until a small panel slid aside and revealed a Datapad. "I led a bunch of younglings and initiates to safety. And a few weeks later, I was the reason they were captured and killed by the Empire. I would've died too...but...you know, when you witness something so harrowing as your friends dying...something inside of you dies, too."

She tapped the screen of the datapad over and over, typing long strings of code into it.

"I escaped and I honored my friends by surviving. But I vowed never to use the Force again. The thing about that is that the Force has other plans for you sometimes. So, a year ago...I was presented with a new...opportunity. Not only to live, but to do some good. To protect force-sensitive individuals, the way that I couldn't do when I was younger."

The front of the container hissed and then popped open. It slowly creaked forward, like a door.

"And so, I smuggle things...along with a network of other freelancers," Thalia continued, striding towards the front of the container. "Taking precious cargo, like this cargo, someplace safe."

She stopped at the opening and waved her hand towards herself.

"It's okay," she said softly. "You guys can come out now."

The crew of the Dragonborn stood frozen as almost a dozen figures emerged from the cargo container.

Two adults, a short togruta woman and a towering Nikto male. And then...kids.

Two adolescent togruta boys who hovered behind who was obviously their mother. And a little Zabrak girl who held the Nikto's hand. A twi'lek boy and girl, obviously siblings if their coloring gave them away; the older sister held the boy back when his eyes lit up at the sight of D5-TN. After them stomped out a short Theelin female with bright red hair and an awful attitude if the expression on her face was anything to go by.

And then humans. Run of the mill humans. A brother and sister who seemed to be bickering. And a tall girl who was probably more of an adult than a child, but her gangly limbs and round cheeks gave her more of a childish quality.

They all stopped and stood under the scrutiny of Eddie and his crew as Thalia went to each of them and reassured them that everything was safe and they were going to be ok.

"They have food and other supplies in there." She then turned to the group of smugglers. "And they've all traveled a long way, along this...thing...called the Hidden Path. To keep surviving Jedi and other force sensitives safe from the Empire. They could've been sent anywhere but they, unfortunately, got stuck with me for the last leg of their journey."

She held her hands out beside her, as if to say Here I am, take it or leave it.

Everyone turned and looked at Eddie then, who stood there in silent shock. He, of course, was a mess of conflicting emotions. Anger lingered, confusion, relief that this was what they were hauling across the galaxy, and then, deep down, fear. Because, as he had pointed out earlier, they were heading to Coruscant.

The seat of the Empire.

Teaming with Stormtroopers and, oh yeah, The Emperor.

And suddenly he wasn't just faced with the reality that Thalia was the one they had to keep safe from possibly being found. But all of these people, too. People he hadn't even realized had been on his ship.

People who were packed into that container like a can of burra fish.

He couldn't put any words to what he was thinking, so he simply raised a hand to cover his mouth, and he shook his head...confused.

"I have some friends and a ship waiting for me on Coruscant to take them to their final stop on the journey," Thalia explained. "To this planet...Bogano. It's an abandoned planet that Master Cordova had...rediscovered. Before the fall of the Order. Before the Purge. The only others who knew about it were his assistant...and his datapad. Both of which are conveniently on this ship."

She smiled a cheeky little smile at her own joke, then went somber.

"Master Cordova...well, he's one of the Jedi who are still unaccounted for. But...I have hope."

The gangly girl laid a comforting hand on Thalia's shoulder and gave her a shaky smile.

"We have hope, too," she said softly.

Thalia patted her hand thankfully and then looked back at the guys.

At Eddie, specifically.

"It's not much," she said with a sense of finality. "But it's a start to fix what it is I did...all those years ago. I have a list of people that can be saved, and I will do everything in my power to save them. To honor the ones I couldn’t."

"Wait a damn minute," G'areth piped up, voice laden with confusion. "If you had another ship...a crew on Coruscant, why couldn't they have just met up with you and the Assob's on Nar Shaddaa? Taking these guys straight to this...Bonago."

"Bogano," Thalia corrected him.

"Whatever." G'areth rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and does this really mean we're not gonna get paid?" Jeff added.

"You're going to get paid," Thalia assured him.

"Then I don't see why we need to ask anymore questions," he joked. "We're on course to Coruscant, end of story."

"Well, I wanna know," Eddie finally spoke. He stepped out of the group with his friends and eyed each of the newcomers—if you could call them that—aboard the ship, then at Thalia. "I want to know why you needed our help with this. Why you sought me and my crew to help you haul a bunch of...runaways halfway across the galaxy, incognito. Instead of using your own ship. Your own crew."

"They're not really my crew," Thalia argued, but Eddie's brows jumped as high as they could and he grit his teeth impatiently as he waited for an answer. "Alright. I did my research, I sought you guys out. I sought you out, Eddie, because these kids...are not the only people I'm trying to keep safe from the Empire. They're not the only Force sensitives I'm trying to save."

She took a step closer to him, putting them practically nose to nose, and dropped her voice low.

"You told me on Outpost 86 that you'd always dreamed of a day that the Jedi would come and tell you that you belonged with them. That they'd take you away from your miserable, boring life," she whispered.

His heart dropped into his stomach, anticipating what she might say next.

Still, he had the audacity to whisper back, "I don't think I used the word miserable."

Thalia, of course, scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Then she said, "Eddric Reckless Moonsun. Consider yourself rescued."

Next Chapter: When Ambush Comes to Shove

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More Massive Fandom Salt under the cut

If I see one more condescending post about how people who don’t like Tech getting killed off just don’t get it, I’m going to mcfreaking lose it.

Like, okay. I think Tech is alive. I think I’ve been clear about that. If I haven’t, then I don’t know what else to do. I actually even get why taking him off the board for season three could be a good move (give Crosshair time to decompress and Omega time to come into her own and be the hero of her own show, while also maybe setting Tech up for another plot line to come later), and think it’s possible that bringing Tech back later could actually work much better than what I originally wanted to happen. In fact, if it really is a fake-out I think it’s kind of immaculate. And I still get angry reading those posts.

Because, first, a lot of people upset by the handling of Tech from “Plan 99” onwards are upset because Tech meant something to them. It goes a lot deeper than just losing your favorite character. Tech was a fantastic piece of autistic representation and losing that hurt. Losing that and then never getting the catharsis that comes with on-screen emotional processing from the characters, no closure, no real in-show impact besides inconveniencing the others hurt even more. It left a lot of autistic people in the fandom feeling like we were told that we weren’t welcome in Star Wars at all.

And most of us still love the show! The Bad Batch is still my favorite show and I adore basically the entire thing up through season three, right up to the point where everything just kind of stops without resolving anything but Hunter and Omega, and not getting Tech back before the end hit me so badly that I almost dropped Star Wars completely. People are upset for a reason.

Second, I get that it can be annoying seeing criticism of your favorite show. I do. I actually disagree with a lot of criticism of TBB and do tend to get a little annoyed at certain takes. The other thing about the “Tech’s dead and that’s good”/“You thought Tech could come back because you were delusional” posts that makes me want to fight everyone, though, is that they tend to be incredibly dismissive. They’ll bring up arguments people made during the airing of the show for why Tech could come back, or arguments they made afterwards for why they thought he should have, and then either misunderstand or talk right past them.

It gives anyone who made those arguments, or who was upset by the ending, a general sense that we’re not being listened to. That people have already decided we’re irrational and that nothing we say or experience matters, that we saw patterns that weren’t there, or that we care too much about this specific thing, or that we’re being immature. Maybe. Just. I don’t know—consider for a second that a lot of the people who are most upset about Tech belong to the noticing patterns/caring a lot about specific things/dismissed for noticing things that are really there in real life/frequently infantilized neurotype. Again, there’s a reason some of us are upset and having a hard time with fandom right now.

I actually don’t have a problem with people thinking or making posts saying someone needed to die or that Tech “dying” was well handled as a death. I will always disagree, and I think we’re too close to the “bury your disabled” trope with most of the batchers for me to be okay with any of them dying like that, but one person will interpret fiction differently than another and I can’t and shouldn’t police that. I do, however, have a massive problem with the condescending way a lot of those posts go about it. Think Tech ought to be dead? Fine. Call anyone who thinks otherwise a child? Instablock, I don’t need that in my life.