#i love you stories with political themes!!

[shinwonderful]

Freedom of Choice

prologue to Heavy is the Heart (That Wears the Crown) [masterlist coming soon]

part of you hoped you'd be able to avoid this aspect of royalty, but it was inevitable. they would never allow the sole heir to the kingdom of evermoor to remain unmarried. all you can hope for is that one of the suitors you meet will be the true love you've always dreamt of.

⁺✦ seventeen x reader (cyoa style!) ⁺✦ word count: 3.3k ⁺✦ genre: historical, kind of a mix of everything lol ⁺✦ warnings: shitty parents, forced marriage, mention of being pressured into intimacy, i promise i'm not a royalist i just think historical stories of nobility are v romantic

જ⁀➴┊ [🐈] happy valentine's day!! this series has been in the works since november, and i'm so excited to finally post the prologue! this series has come to be very close to my heart, and i'm really excited to share it with you guys!

special thanks to @lovewithoutresin my beautiful bestie for editing and writing the dialogue for the reader's Handmaiden! I love that this series has a piece of you in it too MWAH!!

the prologue and a certain upcoming chapter are dedicated to the lovely @ylangelegy for inspiring me to pick up writing (on tumblr) again after nearly a decade (christ alive i'm old. 💀). if they hadn't been so supportive and expressed interest in this story, i'd likely not have written it. happy valentine's day ilysbbbb

dividers by saradika!

each chapter of this series will have a (relatively lol) period-accurate theme and costume.

this chapter's theme is Fauré: Après un Rêve (ca. 1870).

"A song about devotion and passion. The dreamer yearns for the return of her dreams, in which she met her love: ‘In sleep made sweet by a vision of you’."

the costume for this chapter is this gorgeous afternoon dress (ca. 1835) from the met museum archives.

“All we ask is that you keep an open mind.”

The rattle of the carriage wheels against the meticulously hand-paved road beneath your fancifully cushioned seat was, perhaps, the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment. You could do little but curse them internally, knowing putting up a fight was… tragically futile.

“How do you mean, Mother?”

You already knew the answer to this question, but it bought you a bit of time to school your reaction, to use your decades of lessons in decorum to keep your actual thoughts and feelings from clawing themselves out of your mouth.

After all, for God’s sake, how could they expect you to choose a husband on this supposed ‘diplomatic tour’?

You’d, of course, rolled your eyes when your Handmaiden had told you of their plans (though a much more tumultuous emotion stirred behind your sardonic response). Your parents hadn’t even afforded you the courtesy of a conversation before making arrangements for the tour. Instead, the news was broken only after your Handmaiden heard the rumors in whispers that echoed through the long, hollow halls of your castle. (Pro Tip: Having a best friend on your staff never stops being helpful.) You knew what this was, and it wasn’t simply diplomatic. At least, not in the usual sense.

You knew what this was– everyone did. You were of the age where courtiers began to whisper about your lack of husband, gossiping about why the Crown Heir of Evermoor had yet to even begin the courting process. Why so many requests for meetings had gone politely rejected.

The truth was much less salacious than popular theory– as is usually the case. Quite simply, you’ve just yet to meet an eligible bachelor that doesn’t make you physically recoil at the prospect of being wed to them. Between the Dukes whose eyes on your female staff were… less than respectful and Counts who couldn’t make it longer than thirty seconds without saying something to stroke their own egos, you’d rather shovel the stables by hand than meet with any prospects for the time being.

There had been a close call once, just a few months back, where you’d met with a neighboring King who was charming enough at first. That is, of course, until the bastard had tried to pressure you into necking with him after dinner one night. You sent him packing on the spot. And your parents, the Queen and King, were irate. Apparently, not offending the royal family was more important than your honor.

Which, tragically, prompted them to force your hand into embarking on what would be your ‘grand tour’ throughout the nearby kingdoms. Officially, it was a tour to introduce you as the Crown Royal to your (pre-established and potential alike) ally’s own Royal Families. To establish a line of communication and get to know each other sooner rather than later. But none were gullible enough to miss the writing on the wall. You were unmarried, and most of the kingdoms you’d be visiting had unmarried royal sons of their own to offer. After all, for a royal as high-ranking as yourself, it’s most appropriate for you to marry other ‘high-value’ royalty. Those who would be Counts in their own right someday, some even Kings. Any children born would rule over both domains, doubling your families’ power and influence in the realm. (And that was all anything was ever about. Cue eye roll.)

Perhaps you’d have fought harder if you thought there was the slimmest chance of getting your way, but… why kid yourself? This was an inevitable. Since you were young, you’d known your fate would be that of most born of noble blood. To be used as a bargaining chip, a pawn in someone else’s game– one neither of you had elected to play.

Sure, there had been a time many years ago where you’d find yourself in despair over this. Growing up, your favorite stories were the ones told of love triumphing over all. You’d go to your balcony in the dead of night, wishing to any power that could hear you to be one of the lucky ones. For you to have the chance at a marriage of love. A husband you chose not because of the family crest he bore, but for the tender affection he showed you. The way he lit up your world, coloring your bluest nights into the tender pinks of the sunrise. Someone who was well and truly yours, divorced from the way nobility are traded like commodities, but how love brings two souls into one, merging until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. A love like poetry. A love worth writing about.

But those days were long behind you. Even the most hopeless of all romantics can’t resist the effects of erosion, the cynical waves of the ocean clawing at the coast until even something so eternal as the Earth itself gives way, becoming part of the ocean it once fought to resist so vehemently. Holding onto that optimism… at some point begins to hurt you more than it helps you. And so you, once as steady as the Earth in your quest for love, you surrendered to cynicism just as steadily, until you, too, found it hard to believe that love in the pure sense even existed at all. 

Of course, those were the times when your Equerry would ask you to accompany him on a trip to the local market. After all, none could read you quite like him. It came with the territory– his job, of course, to be your shadow. To care for you, and to watch over you. And he took his role very seriously. To him, this meant to help you through not just your meetings with the steward, but also to watch for signs that your spirits need lifting (despite this not technically being in his duties). And seeing how your mouth twitched into a frown any time someone mentioned the concept of love the past few months? He didn’t have to be a scholar to read you.

So he pulled you into the castle’s preferred bakery, calling for Mister and Missus Kim and producing a beaming smile when the pair came out from the back to say hello. The couple’s eyes shined every time they looked at one another, and the three of them talked about the castle’s weekly order as you watched from near the door, mindlessly eyeing the pastries on display in the cabinet, trying to ignore the way your chest fluttered just being around something so beautiful. She held a toddler on her hip, and the moment it crossed your mind that she was looking tired from holding the boy, her husband instinctively grabbed him, placing him to lay upon his own chest instead. It was as if they had their own language, something silent but incredibly tangible that tied them together. And it was a sight to behold.

Your heart felt much less heavy on the ride home, your eyebrows quirked in thoughtful wishing instead of the bitter resignation they tended towards. Your Equerry said nothing, his hands smoothing against the hat he’d placed on his lap as he smiled softly. He didn’t need your words to know he’d done well, even if he would love to hear them. But alas, the you of the present day was much too timid to speak what was on your mind. The thoughts were much too soft for someone who was to someday rule over this nation. But maybe, you thought, maybe you were what was too soft. Maybe fate had played a cruel joke in making you the only one who could govern your beloved country once your parents no longer could. Maybe it was all a fool’s errand.

Because you couldn’t help but feel that… perhaps you’ll never be lucky enough to possess a love of your own, but you’re more sure than you’ve ever been that love is one of the finest things humanity has to offer– so real, so tangible that it shone through the dark clouds hanging over your head. And you’d do anything it took to feel its embrace, even for the smallest moment in time.

It was hard to contend with the idea people had in their head about you at times. To them, you were the Crown Heir of Evermoor. Sole Heir at that. Flowers bloomed bright the day you were born, and (according to folklore) it’s impossible for a flower to wilt if it’s been blessed by your presence.

You care deeply for your nation, making certain your Equerry schedules an allotment every few weeks for you to visit the capital’s town square, relishing in the bustle of the city and the chatter of those hard at work, or those working to forget their hard day at work. But when they notice you, they’re quick to forget what they were doing. Instead, they either gawk openly, or rush to have their moment with you. Something they’ll remember for a lifetime; ‘the time the Crown Royal complimented my pelerine’ or ‘the time I made the Crown Royal smile by presenting them with a rose’. 

But at home? You’re just… you.

You’re sprawled out over your plush bed, dressed down to your chemise and pantaloons as your Handmaiden helped you sneak a second dessert to share, shutting the door to your quarters quietly as she, too, leapt to join you in your bed with a mischievous smile (though there was an unspoken tension in the air that neither of you cared to address just yet). Your hair hit your shoulders in what were once carefully-manicured curls that had loosened throughout the day. If it were anyone else, you’d be shamed for the lewdness of this moment, but this was another perk to having your best friend as your Handmaiden. With her, this was perfectly appropriate. Even if it wasn’t technically in the spirit of the rules.

The upcoming months hung over you like a death sentence. Tonight would be one of your last as a single person, one of the last you’d not be betrothed– or worse, married. At the end of the week, you’d be leaving on your tour. Leaving the only home you’d ever known to stay at palace after palace belonging to strangers who intended to sell you on their sons. And if there’s one thing you knew; the only thing more formidable than your citizens competing for your attention is dozens of nobles doing the same. At least your people had some sense of dignity.

Today was one of the last nights you’d be free to kid yourself into believing that, by some miracle, you’d get the fairytale ending you’ve always dreamed of. Because once you left the borders of Evermoor, there would be no returning without the burden of a ring on your finger, its center stone heavy with insurmountable expectations and a destiny you’d never get to seek.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud clink of a fork on your Handmaid's plate– a clearly theatrical gesture. 

“So?” She sat her plate aside without looking away from you. When you gave her no indication that you knew what she was about to broach, she continued, her voice casual and innocent. “How long were you planning on moping about for? I just mean to ensure we stay on schedule.” 

Eyes still trained on the plate of Ratafia Cake in front of you, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at one corner of your mouth. You gave her a thoughtful hum. “I was thinking… maybe a couple more decades? Don’t want to overdo it, of course.” You looked to her with a facetious grin.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t buying it. “That sounds about right. I wouldn’t want to waste any more precious time I can’t get back either.” She kept the dry tone, but there was evident concern on her features. Perhaps a bit of frustration as well. 

Your smile faltered, the truth in her words hitting a little too close to the truth for comfort. You resorted to pushing your cake around on the small saucer, the prospect of eating suddenly much less alluring as the truth settled in your stomach like a stone. Your voice came out barely over a whisper; “What else can I do? It's not as if I have any say in the matter. I've pushed this off as long as I can. My parents…” You take an exasperated breath, “They aren’t going to budge this time.”

The pretense was dropped then, and she shifted to get comfortable, tone more serious. “I know. It's not fair the way this is happening. I hope you know I am really sorry about that.” 

“I just… don't think that the way you're thinking about this is really helpful to you.” She looked off, thought for a moment, then turned back to pick the situation apart. “We can't change the situation. So the way I see it, you have a few options here.”

You placed the cake to the side then, shifting to lean against the bedpost. Part of you felt the urge to dig in your heels, to protest, but unfortunately one of your best friend’s qualities happens to be that she’s almost always right about these things. So instead, you bite your tongue, nodding for her to continue.

“Option One; you go on the tour. You grin and bear it with the suitors. And really, you’ll only be with each of them for a short time. So if they’re that terrible, you’ll be out soon enough. Don’t worry about months or years from now– just focus on getting through this part. One step at a time.” She picked up her cake again, taking a shamelessly large bite and swallowing it quickly.

“I hate that you’re being made to choose this. But think of it this way: you do get a choice if you go. You can at least focus on trying to influence things to make your life easiest. And maybe you will end up liking someone, at least enough to try. I mean, the odds are one of them won’t be completely insufferable. And if they all are, I promise to let you mope until the end of time, okay?”

That has you laughing again, turning to look at her fully. “Careful; I may actually take you up on that. I really think I’ve yet to fully realize my true potential in the field of being annoying. And as my Handmaiden, you have special privileges as my guinea pig for just that.” You give her an easy smile, leaning on one side while you pick up your cake once more.

But as you take another bite, you ponder her words carefully. As suspected, she was right once again. Most noblewomen are not as lucky as you’ve been. You made it this far without being betrothed, and even then your parents are still allowing you the choice of who to marry instead of forcing someone upon you. So while the situation is certainly unideal… she’s right to say that you still have some freedom of choice. And while small, it’s best to count your blessings whenever they come, lest it drive you mad.

“You’re right.” You pause, trying to find a way to say what you mean without sounding naive. Or worse, corny. “What I want may be out of question, but I suppose any choice is better than none.” You furrow your brow for a moment, lost in thought. “Perhaps… some of these suitors also mourn this choice. Love may be off the table, but… perhaps we can be friends–” You pause once more, laughing softly. “–who just so happen to be married.”

You’re not sure why it took you so long to reach this conclusion. After all, noble as they may be, these suitors are human just as you are. Each of them have their own thoughts, goals, desires, dreams. And perhaps, like yours, theirs is also stifled by this imposed choice. Perhaps.

“Exactly,” she replied, face brightening a bit at your change in tone. “And… well, who knows?” She shrugged, not going any further into the thought. “At any rate, it won’t necessarily hurt to have a partner in crime.” 

“My, my– are you suggesting that I replace you now?” You tease her.

“Right. So what's Option Two, then?”

“Option Two; we let the kingdom burn, run away in the night and live on the lam. That one has a few kinks to work out.” She played it as straight as she could, but it was obvious from her face that she was trying to be funny. 

Your laughter comes out in a snort, her words catching you by surprise. “You know what? I'm half tempted to take you up on that. But I don't think Mr. Stick-in-the-mud Equerry would go for it. Tragic.”

“Oh, forget him,” she said lightly. “We can do it on our own.” She finished the last bite of her dessert.

You try to ignore the way you immediately feel guilty imagining the expression on your Equerry's face if he knew the details of this conversation. Even tonight, you had to practically beg him to take the night off so you could have this time with your Handmaiden. He's been practically glued to your side since the news of your fate reached him, ever protective of you. He means well, but… a girl needs to breathe sometimes. You can only imagine what he'd do, how he'd feel if you fled. You scrunch up your face apologetically at your Handmaiden, still smiling. “Sorry. Maybe next time.”

She laughs, shaking her head at you softly. “Seriously, though. Just try, okay? There must be some part of this that could work out for good.”

As you, too, finish the last bit of your cake, you nod solemnly in return. “Alright. I'll… try. But only because you asked me to.” You answer with an air of drama. “We should both hope this goes well. After all, he’ll soon be your problem just as much as he’ll be mine. It's your neck on the block too,” You joke.

“Don't I know it,” she replied, and collected the dish back from you. “And God help us both.”

“We just don’t want you to be so… dismissive. Alright, dear? Give them a chance. They just might surprise you. You’ve been so picky, and we won’t tolerate a repeat of last time.”

The words of your Father hit your ears like an arrow, and you’re rearing back to spit a harsh retort when you feel your Equerry place a steadying hand on your shoulder, just out of view of your parents across from you both. Looking at him, he gives you a sympathetic smile that does little to alleviate your anger, but it succeeds in holding you back if only because you hate fighting with your parents in front of him. (It stresses him out having to play the middle-man when he wants to have your back with no question.)

So you take a deep breath, letting your Father’s words linger in the air of the carriage, which suddenly felt hopelessly stuffy.

It wasn’t fifteen minutes later that the carriage slowed to a stop, signaling the end of your journey to meet the first of your suitors. Your heartbeat quickened, and as your attendant opened the door to the carriage, the sun pricked at your eyes.

While you waited as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed an unfamiliar hand reaching into your carriage, offering for you to grab to assist you out. “May I help you, Your Highness?”

And though it felt like diving into frigid waters in the black of night, you took the stranger’s hand.

[pixelatedraindrops]

Overindulgence on Valentine's Day Chocolate~ 🍫💦

This was a very silly little idea I had in my head for Valentine's Day. It was originally going to just be a one-shot fanfiction I write but you should all know by now... xD

I don't know the definition of a one-shot fanfiction

My first ever stomach issue related themed sickfic~ :3

Here is the story (bc archive direct link doesn't wanna work)

Now as for the art, it's pretty self explanatory; our favorite silly little CEO received a lot of appreciation chocolate from some of the citizens of Kanai Ward. Touched by the gesture and finally receiving love reciprocated by the city he loved so much, he didn't leave a single sweet treat given to him untouched or uneaten.

This would later lead to disaster ;w;

Thankfully Yuma is there to lend him a helping hand :3

Spoilers for the Story's Outcome below~ (another drawing +further rambling as always lol I always say too much haha... ^^;)

The best home remedy for an tummy ache is a good tummy rub 🩷

Okay, so I was honestly wanting to write a story like this for a while but was incredibly shy about it... Because upset tummy rubs lowkey are another very small guilty pleasure of mine. When a person gets an upset stomach from either being sick or from overeating, I personally find it to be a very comforting, touching and even at times very intimate gesture. (I even remember trying it myself to help a friend of mine w gastritis in highschool)

Sadly, I felt very shy and even embarrassed to want to try and write something like this, let alone draw it out... Tummy rubs are unfortunately often seen as kinks or are fetishized by other people so it's often seen as weird to the public... So it made me feel nervous to even share this story and art. I did have lots of fun drawing it, but I'm saying it right now, I do NOT fetishize this okay? ><;

(not trying to kink shame, its just not my intention here is all ;w;)

In fact; abdominal massages (a.k.a tummy rubs) are actually a real medical procedure to recover the pressure in one's stomach.

The pose of this art was incredibly difficult to draw but I am fairly happy with the way it came out. Yuma looks either doting or affectionate towards Makoto and Makoto looks perfectly relaxed laying in his lap c: Yuma politely took his shoes off but Makoto is the type to leave his shoes on even when he’s laying on furniture (we saw it in ch4 twice lol) They're such cuties, I love them so much💕 (I even added a kitty to convince myself that its cute and not weird... ;w;)

Truth be told, this idea was actually semi-inspired by a little doodle that @cochidinh drew on X. It made me think that if Makoto received valentines from the people of Kanai Ward, would he eat all of them?

And thus this story was born c: (its meant to be silly so please try not to take it too seriously... ;w; They may seem OOC here, I did my best but this is my first time ever writing a story like this so I might be rusty... ;w;)

EXTRA BONUS: Kitty Makoto 🐱

Fun Fact: Did you know that cats only allow belly rubs from a person they trust? :3c I think Makoto is very cat-like tbh haha~

Anyway Happy Valentines Day🩷

Don't eat too much chocolate now! 💦

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 2: Not the Smuggler You're Looking For

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

Summary: Eddie accepts the new venture presented to him and the new business partners get to know each other over drinks.

Word Count: 6.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Action, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Miscommunication, Distrust, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague Reference to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge

Note: Thanks to everyone who's reading Luminous Beings so far. I'm so glad you're enjoying. This chapter we're about to dive a little bit more into the politics in the Galaxy Far Far Away. Not in-depth and detailed, but reactions from Eddie's POV.

Once again, you don’t need to know much about Star Wars to read. But if you are not familiar with Star Wars please take this as an additional warning: Star Wars has always been political. The themes have always mirrored real world events and this fic is no different. I don't go into great detail about what is happening because the focus is the characters reactions to it. They aren't really sure what's happening either. And the things that Eddie and the other characters feel in this fantastical world...they mirror what a lot of us feel here in the real world.

Writing this as we keep going headfirst into feelings of overwhelmedness and lack of control and uncertainty in our world …it was honestly very therapeutic to be able to put the feeling to words with a character I love when I oftentimes am unable to verbalize them myself. So thank you for being witness to this and I hope it helps you find some kind of sense of understanding, if only for a moment, too.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

The energy at the table was familiar, yet strange.

Familiar in the sense that it definitely felt like something they'd encounter back home on Bracca: sitting in a cantina, chatting, and listening to the DJ spin tunes that were popular in this part of the Outer Rim.

And instead of the ever-present sense of danger that surrounded the visitors and interactions on the Smuggler's Moon, there was a comfort and sense of camaraderie that Mott and Merg Assob brought that made Eddie and his friends feel more at ease entering into a clandestine agreement with Thalia.

It was strange, though, because they were quirky enough that they didn't seem like the type of people to be in the smuggling business.

Merg had been the leather-clad stranger at the Surly Sarlaac the previous night, choosing an otherwise unassuming facade to keep herself safe on-planet. Without her helmet, she was a round-cheeked, lavender-skinned Theelin bombshell with an infectious laugh and, apparently, a singing voice that would insult even the tone-deaf.

"Well, there goes our tradition of drunkenly singing shanties with our associates before we head to the spaceport," Jeff announced with an awkward laugh.

It didn't take long for his friends to realize that he'd developed some kind of attraction for Merg, which was dashed when Mott was introduced as her husband.

Mott was as human as they came, almost painfully so. He looked like the type who'd try to sell you a used speeder, with thinning hair and a highly-stylized mustache, crinkling-eyes and a crooked smile. But he was friendly. More than friendly. He was almost neighborly. He'd greeted the crew of the Dragonborn like you would an old friend, and then offered to buy the first round, especially since they'd all be doing business together.

Then he got right to work regaling everyone with the stories of their most recent travels.

Of course, not without starting off with a cordial greeting. How a friend of Thalia’s was a friend of theirs, and how she'd been one of the most reliable contacts they'd had in the business.

And reliability was comforting to hear.

Especially when the blue-haired flight attendant hadn't bothered to join them yet.

"...And then the bartender asked if I was ready for the creamiest in all the galaxy," Mott held the attention of the table in rapt suspense. "To which I replied, 'That's exactly what I'm looking for.’"

Merg mouthed the words alongside her husband with a playful roll of her eyes.

"Famous last words," they concluded in tandem, earning chuckles from Dayv and G'areth.

Eddie laughed along with slightly less enthusiasm. He kept glancing towards the entrance of the cantina to manifest Thalia's appearance.

Jeff noticed, of course, and leaned in closer.

He whispered into Eddie's ear, "Do you think she's gonna bail?"

"No," Eddie shook his head, but kept his attention towards the front of the cantina. "She's the one who set this all up, I don't think she's gonna disappear on us. Not if she wants her payout."

He felt like an idiot to be left waiting like this, but that was entirely on his shoulders. He had accepted the job and agreed to this meeting without much in the way of being able to contact their new associate. Now he was left wondering where she was, with no way of reaching her, and he knew he'd look stupid in front of his friends—his crew—if he asked the Assobs if they'd heard anything from her.

Eddie had purposely omitted some of the details about his interaction with Thalia and the means by which they'd obtained this new job. He might’ve been a little embarrassed that the attraction he felt towards her was some kind of ruse, sure. But something about their meeting unsettled him after they'd parted ways, and he couldn't quite pin down what exactly it was.

She'd begged him for help and he accepted.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that. He was a nice guy, sure, but he wasn't running a charitable cause. He tried to tell himself that she was paying for their services. In fact, she said she'd pay anything, which was suspicious in and of itself.

But credits were credits…and she begged him...so he accepted.

That was enough explanation for the guys in his opinion. He knew they wouldn't go into the job blind. If they sensed anything awry, they would tell him immediately and he would call the whole deal off.

Jeff, of course, was more in tune to the fact that Eddie was behaving strangely, than anything to do with their new acquaintances.

"Do you think this is some kind of trick?" he questioned Eddie further in concern. "I know these guys trust her but what if this is a chance for the Empire to bust us after that one job on Brentall IV?"

And that was the real conundrum, the real source of Eddie's uneasiness. He was pretty intuitive, but despite his sense of nervousness and uneasiness...he didn't sense any sort of danger around Thalia. The only deceit that she had shown herself capable of was getting him to trust her, maybe even like her, for a split second before she revealed she was only interested in what he could do for her.

And not who he was.

So could this be a trap? Sure. 

But was it?

"It's not," Eddie answered definitively. "She'll be here."

He picked up his drink and knocked the whole thing back, before he signaled to the roaming service droid that he wanted another.

"How do you know?" Jeff pressed.

"She'll be here," Eddie repeated with a grunt.

"Who'll be here?" A whispered voice came from beside him.

Eddie turned, startled, to find Thalia sliding into the seat he'd left empty for her.

She was dressed less conspicuously than she had been at the Surly Sarlacc; while her blue curls remained intact, she'd traded her Star Tours uniform for clothes that blended in with the locals—a fitted shirt and jacket, and utility trousers tucked into comfortable boots. There was an obvious lack of a blaster anywhere on her person, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. He realized, then, that her tactic to get his attention the night before had worked; he doubted that he'd have honed in on her amidst the crowd if she dressed like she was now.

He grit his teeth as he debated waving down the service droid again, desperate for another drink.

Thalia seemed to read his mind, though, and offered to get the next round as she greeted everyone. Of course that put her in the good grace's of Eddie's friends immediately, and they all clapped at the offer.

"Uh," Thalia observed of the various states of intoxication at the table. "Maybe some snacks, too. Sober everyone up before we head to the spaceport."

"That's a good idea," Merg snickered and pinched at Mott's arm. "This one's been getting everyone drunk on Moof Juice."

"It's so they'll be more captivated by my stories," Mott argued amicably. "Speaking of Moof, we have to tell these boys about that time on Batuu..."

"Why don't," Eddie interjected with a suggestion of his own, "you tell us about how the three of you met? Since you seem to be such good friends."

He felt the fire within him quell as Thalia turned her eyes back to him, as that calm feeling settled over him once again.

He was starting to hate that feeling.

"Business associates," Thalia corrected him coolly. Then, almost as an afterthought she added, "more often than not."

"And when you're not?"

"Then we're drinking buddies."

"It might seem like a big galaxy," Merg interjected. "But it's a lot smaller than you think. Gotta keep the few good people you know close."

"Yeah, well, the only good people we know happen to be sitting at this table," G'areth chuckled and clapped a hand on Mott's shoulder. "You folks count, of course."

"Well, thanks," Mott grinned and returned the gesture, practically pulling G'areth closer to him. "But trusting your crew is a big deal. It's why it's only ever been me and the Mrs. Can't seem to find anyone else who wouldn't sell us out to the Imps."

Four sets of eyes turned on Thalia suspiciously.

"I'm not a part of their crew," she defended herself with a sarcastic smile. "And you can ask your Captain, I'm no fan of the Empire."

The service droid approached the table with fresh drinks and took orders for the next round, which dissolved the tension that had momentarily overtaken them. As it rolled away, the crew of the Dragonborn were treated to a delightful story about a sabaac game gone wrong, a run-in with the Hutts, and a slicer who could get clearance codes to an Imperial freighter.

"Allegedly," Mott, Merg, and Thalia all said as they got to the end of their story.

It was a hard story to follow, so outrageous it had to have been a lie, but having heard one of Mott Assob's drawn out anecdotes prior to it, the boys figured it was true. Or, at least, some of it had to be.

"And what about you boys?" Merg asked then. "Thali said you're from...what was it...Corellia?"

"Bracca," Eddie and Thalia corrected her in tandem. Eddie shot her an annoyed glance.

"Even worse," Merg snorted. "The guilds will screw you over more than any of the Bosses will; I’d start smuggling to avoid them too. So, let's hear it. How'd you get off that scrap-heap?"

The boys all hesitated, eyes darting to one another as they tried to figure out which one of them would start.

If they should start.

Of course, as the Captain, Eddie took the lead.

"It's not as glamorous as your story," he began with the slightest tinge of self-pity in his voice. "But these guys have been my best friends for years. We met back at school…"

He drifted off into the fond memories of him and his friends back home.

Bracca - 19BBY

"Long night, Mister Moonsun?"

Eddie's head snapped up and he shifted in his seat as his classmates snickered around him; he then turned his attention to his instructor, Cal Larke, who stood beside his station and stared at him with gentle concern.

"No, sir," Eddie cleared his throat and shook his head, then looked down to the datapad before him. It showed an extensive engineering diagram that almost made his eyes cross with its complexity.

"Bored?"

"No, sir, sorry."

How could he tell his instructor that he'd been kept up with nightmares and hadn't gotten much sleep? That he felt little bits of anxiety, pains in his heart all night and he was too afraid to close his eyes again.

Instead, he just apologized again and said, "I won't let it happen again."

Larke placed a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder and then went back to his podium to continue his lesson.

Eddie turned his head towards the next station, where Jeff was seated, and shot him a questioning glare as if to ask "how come you didn't wake me up?" 

Jeff just shrugged apologetically and looked back down to his own datapad.

Poodoo Head.

Everyone knew that Eddric Moonsun wasn't the best student at the Training Institute—he wasn't even in the top 50%—but he was curious, good at tinkering, and a quick learner. So this was where he ended up, whether he liked it—or was good at it—or not. The Guilds could always use more manpower, according to his uncle. According to everyone.

Not like there were many other career options on Bracca, unless he wanted to sling bantha hash someplace at the Terrace.

He'd live and work and work and live, until he was an old man and death came for him. It would be a simple life.

A simple life was a good life.

At least, that's what Uncle Wane always said.

Your family, your health, a job that paid well, and a good cup of caf to wake you up in the morning; those were the keys to happiness.

Except...Eddie wasn't sure that was really what he wanted.

He trudged through the rest of the lesson and whooped when class let out for the day.

One of the only good things about Bracca was that it was basically one big playground; that was the way he and his friends looked at the otherwise lackluster planet that they called home. Bracca was dotted with the hulking, rotting skeletons of cruisers and starships dating back as far as anyone could remember.

If Corellia was the shipyard of the Galaxy, Bracca was the junkyard.

And instead of building the next great starship—or warship, as deep as the Republic currently was in the Clone Wars—the engineers on Bracca thought of ways to break down the remnants of star travel past and reuse their parts for something new. Inventions that could benefit lesser-developed or wartorn planets in the Republic.

Everything that was left behind? The husks? The engineers made good use of them too.

Of course, they weren't meant for dumb kids to climb and play in but it happened anyway.

In the outskirts of town, past the Terrace but before the vast shipbreaking yards, Eddie and his idiot friends created a makeshift clubhouse in the remains of a Rendilli corvette. It was an old scrap heap—a relic—that wasn't even worth the time to break down, so of course they thought it was perfect. It was where they wasted time between class and home. They fussed with fantastical make-believe stories and crafted little figurines out of scraps to go along with their games; tales of heroes and villains and myths that they'd only ever dreamed of.

They’d have speeder races through Coruscant, vibrosword fights with bounty hunters on Mandalore, and explored the suncaves of Sedri for treasure.

They'd even found, in a stack of discarded parts, a dusty, old, bin-shaped T7-series astromech droid. It was a relic too, and of course it didn't work, but Jeff and G'areth had started rebuilding it, bit by bit.

Maybe they’d get it to work one day. The droid. And the ship. And they’d all be able to leave Bracca behind and live out their fantasies.

Until then, the most exciting thing they did was listen to the Holonet News.

"Don't know why you kids wanna listen to any of that stuff," his uncle would always grumble while Eddie caught the morning broadcast before they left for the day. "Just propaganda for the Republic. We're in a war no one wanted. They've got to make it seem like we're winning."

But there was another reason why Eddie liked to watch the broadcasts. It's why everyone wanted to.

The Jedi.

The protectors of the galaxy, now tirelessly working to stop the Trade Federation from…

What were they trying to do exactly? Eddie couldn't be too sure; he had been a bit too young to care about the details when the conflict began. It was practically history now, and he was barely passing his galactic history module.

But stories of the heroes of the Republic were endless and exciting; they always had been, even before the war. The mysterious Jedi Masters and their travels and adventures throughout the galaxy. Peace and justice, the ways of the Force.

Aside from the impact of the Clone Wars, nobody on Bracca seemed to care except for Eddie and his friends. Nobody they knew, at least.

It was just another bit of escapism from the mundane future that waited for them and that they—or possibly just Eddie—refused to accept.

"This just in," Eddie shouted, mimicking the HoloNet News anchor's voice, as he and his friends ran towards their clubhouse. "General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker foiled yet another assassination attempt on the Chancellor's life earlier today above Coruscant."

"The Chancellor thanks his heroic saviors by awarding them with fame and riches beyond belief!" Dayv added excitedly.

"But the Jedi, known for their vows of selflessness, rejected the rewards," G'areth continued. "We were able to get a statement from General Kenobi himself."

Eddie, who'd spent hours practicing his fancy Coruscanti accent just for the fun of make-believe, adjusted his posture to match the Jedi Master.

"It is our duty and privilege to save the Chancellor and ensure democracy thrives."

"He wouldn't say that!" Jeff scoffed and slapped a hand against his shoulder.

"Yes he would! I swear!"

Once their bickering was over, they logged in for the afternoon broadcast of the Holonet news on a datapad and all went about their little hobbies.

Ga'reth and Jeff took out their tools to work on the droid. Eddie fiddled Wane’s old guitar and daydreamed something new for once—starting a band with his friends one day; talk about a dream. And Dayv tapped away on his own datapad, some research for their pretend.

Finally, the much-awaited broadcast began.

"This is Alfwanne Pinngran," the lead anchor greeted.

"I'm Kafra Krint,” came the voice of his co-star. “And this is Holonet News."

The boys all hummed along with the catchy intro jingle.

They expected to hear the repetitive stories that had fed into their imagination for weeks—news of the heroes of the war—but the mood immediately turned somber as Kafra began with breaking news.

"An attack on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant!" All four boys froze. "Smoke has been seen coming from the Temple, but with no official statement given by the Jedi Order, we can only assume the worst."

"And you know what they say about assuming things, Kafra," Alf cut in, his mistimed joke taking on more of a somber tone.

"CSF has told us that the situation is under control and the residents in the surrounding areas should proceed with normal activities. Skylanes around the temple have been diverted and there has been increased security on the ground as Clone Battalions have been seen en masse. Holonet News will report more once we have additional information."

The boys sat in suspense, hoping for more, but the broadcast moved back onto other reports as usual. General galactic news, reports about the Clone Wars, and a one-in-a-lifetime weather event in the atmosphere of Umgul.

They were all shocked.

Eddie was stunned into silence.

They waited and listened, but soon the broadcast was over.

They raced home after that. Escaping from their mundane lives suddenly didn’t seem so important. They couldn't waste another minute on their fantasies and make believe, not as a big part of their world came to a screeching halt.

And it did, indeed, come to a screeching halt. 

Especially for Eddie.

He complained of a stomach ache to Wane for days, and Wane—knowing not to question or force his nephew to do something he truly didn't want to do—let him stay home from the Training Institute.

"But only ‘til the end of the week." He pointed at Eddie sternly. "You're getting older now, son. Sixteen. You've gotta have some responsibility. You've gotta finish your classes and make something of yourself. Moping around at home isn't gonna get you there."

"I know, Wane," Eddie sighed.

Wane, ever a man of few words, turned on his heel and was about to depart. But he stopped at the door and looked back.

"Someone at school bothering you?" he asked.

Eddie stiffened for a moment under his uncle’s scrutiny.

He knew he couldn't tell Wane about his worries; Wane kept his head down, and didn't care about the Republic or the Jedi. He didn't care for the war either but what could they do? They couldn’t just up and leave the galaxy; the most they could do was get off-planet. He wouldn't understand why Eddie was so affected by the news he'd heard.

So he just said, "No."

"You get into an argument with your friends?"

"No, everything's fine."

"Well...how about we go down to the Terrace for breakfast on Benduday? You tell me what's bothering you."

Eddie sighed and reluctantly agreed, but felt the guilt churn in his stomach until Wane finally left their flat for his shift.

He immediately hopped out of bed to grab his datapad from his schoolbag; he signed into Holonet News and scrolled articles for anything from Coruscant that would give more details about the attack on the Jedi temple.

And it was silly. He knew that it was silly.

Eddie—well, the whole kriffing Moonsun family—wasn't big on beliefs. Sure, there was the Force, but he didn't see or feel any Force. Most of the galaxy didn't, at least as far as he knew.

But it was nice to believe there was more, wasn't there?

Not just the mystical, but the tangible, too. Dreams and goals and plans.

Wane had been right, he had to think about his future, but to have a future that was a carbonite copy of Wane's life? That's not what he desired.

Wasn't there more out there than that? A whole galaxy to explore and search for happiness. 

Eddie's father thought so, that's why he hadn't been back on Bracca for more than a few days at a time since his mother died. But Aldred Moonsun had lost his way thanks to grief. He couldn't care for his son, only for himself. There was nothing ambitious about his abandonment of the status quo.

So, for Eddie, the Holonet truly represented...more.

The stories about other planets, the stories about the Jedi, about heroes and princesses and even the types of foods that could be found if he could only get off Bracca.

Bracca was the only home he'd ever known all his life; how could he tell his uncle that what he really wanted was to be anywhere but here?

How could he tell his uncle that after he'd learned about the Jedi, he'd wished that they might come and take him away to be a hero and save the galaxy one day, just like they were?

A notification at the corner of the screen pulled Eddie back to reality and he pressed it to see the live broadcast of the Galactic Senate.

It started slow, with introductions of delegates from around the galaxy.

He enjoyed seeing their garb; costumery that celebrated the cultures of the planets they represented. It was so different from the purposeful clothing that his uncle wore as an engineer, or his uniform for the Training Institute—even though he'd added his own little bits of flair where he could to feel different. To feel more like himself, whoever he really was.

A scroll of text at the bottom of the screen indicated that this was an emergency convening of the senate, called by the Chancellor himself. There were statements from various senators about their quick trips to Coruscant from afar, and all had statements and well-wishes about the attack on the Jedi Temple, as true politicians would.

Eventually, Chancellor Palpatine took his place at the center of the Galactic Senate and began his speech amidst the applause at his appearance.

Immediately, Eddie could tell that something was wrong. A feeling deep in his gut. The Chancellor's words...they just didn't make sense.

The war was over, the Separatists had lost.

But with the Republic's victory, a new challenge emerged.

Jedi. Betrayal. Rebellion. Assassination.

An uprising against the Galactic Republic on over a thousand worlds, and the Clone Battalions protecting the sanctity and order by slaughtering the traitorous Jedi.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" Palpatine declared to the roaring crowd, most of whom seemed to agree thanks to their cheers.

Eddie was horrified as Holonet News began flashing what could only be described as wanted posters across the top of the broadcast. Hundreds of faces of Jedi Knights and Masters.

Yoda. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Quinlan Vos.

And apprentices.

Padawan Jin-Lo Rayce. Padawan Ferus Olin, Padawan Steev Toninghar.

Kids who looked just about as old as he did. Some even younger.

They were going to hunt these younglings down? They were going to kill children?

The list went on and on.

And Eddie continued to watch the address in horror and confusion. In grief.

Everything he knew, the stories he knew and loved...had it all been a lie? The Jedi were heroes; they'd just saved Palpatine. They'd never try to kill him.But why shouldn’t he trust what the Holonet News said? Why shouldn’t he trust the Chancellor when he’d just led the Republic to victory? When he’d just ended the Clone Wars?

Palpatine said one last remark to thunderous applause before his Grand Vizier took over the address—

"In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society."

—and with that Eddie's world began to be torn apart by something so much bigger, so immensely grander than a boy from Bracca could ever fathom.

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

"...old Ed here got a job with his uncle down at the shipbreaking yard, and he strong-armed us into starting a band to play down at the Terrace until we were done with school."

Eddie was pulled back into the conversation as Jeff patted him on the back; he straightened in his seat and turned his eyes down towards his drink, a little ashamed that he'd lost himself in the memory of the day everything changed.

Despite this, his friends had done an excellent job of telling the tales. Of Bracca, of their schooling, of their dream of something better. The others sat raptly as the story concluded.

Well, Mott and Merg did.

Thalia was stiff beside him, fingers tapping against the sides of her glass as she seemingly absorbed the story, but looked to be lost in her thoughts. Just like Eddie had been.

It only took a few brief moments of his eyes on her for her to break from her trance; she turned her head to him, and with sad eyes, she gave him a smile.

Once again, he was left confused. He didn't know what to make of that smile. Didn't know what to make of her. Didn't know what to make of this whole kriffing situation that he seemed to have gotten himself into by accepting this job.

He was unsettled by his own recollections; he hadn't really thought of home in years. They'd left and hadn't ever looked back. His uncle had visited them once—just once—at their first flat on Coruscant. It had been a long and tedious journey that Eddie hadn't made him take again. But other than that, it was a holocomm on birthdays and a transfer of credits to hopefully help Wane retire someday.

Credits like the ones he could send once they were done with this job. Credits like the ones Thalia promised. Promised him, Eddie Moonsun of Bracca, the planet he left behind and had barely mentioned to anyone outside of his crew. His friends.

How had she known that fact? And why were they telling her more? What were they doing? Sitting around telling stories, telling secrets, instead of doing the job that would be paid to do?

"Work got pretty lean by the time the rest of us graduated," Dayv continued with a distasteful grunt. "The Engineering Guild turned into the Scrapper Guild. The Empire decided they didn't want recycled ships after the war was over."

"So we all worked on fixing up the old corvette."

"And that's the ship we still use today."

"The Dragonborn," G'areth said with a dramatic flair, hands waving enticingly.

Eddie's friends started to talk about their trip to Coruscant and their first job, but he decided enough was enough. Everyone went silent as he stood from his seat and adjusted his jacket; they all stared at him expectantly.

What were they expecting? What did he expect? He should just call it off once and for all...but for some reason, he couldn't.

He didn’t want to do this. But he knew he had to. 

"And the rest," he concluded with an air of finality, "is history. Now, are we gonna sit around here all day? Or are we going to get your cargo off of this blasted planet?"

Eddie leaned against the hull of his ship as he observed the droids that zipped around Deucalon Spaceport.

He was used to a lot of chaos and commotion in the hangars. There were ships guided in and out, and passengers and cargo being loaded and unloaded. Someone a few bays down was arguing with a customs droid and angry Huttese echoed off the durasteel walls; Eddie wasn't much of a betting man but if things didn't cool off soon, he might almost expect blaster fire.

However, the most important thing that he needed to keep his attention on was the cargo being loaded off the Assob's shiny Rendili freighter.

It was an unassuming container, a rectangular cuboid twice as tall as he was, if he could guess. He figured it was the size of his childhood bedroom, which was to say that it didn't look very big at all. It didn't look very suspicious either, or like it contained something that desperately needed to get off-planet.

But that was the whole point of smuggling, wasn't it? To avoid suspicion or detection?

As the singular container was repulsorlifted away from the Assob's ship, Eddie expected more to be unloaded. A second container, maybe a third. But the loading ramp soon shut with a satisfying hiss.

That was it? Must have been one hell of a container.

Thalia walked alongside Dayv, Merg, and the traffic controller that was overseeing the transfer. She stopped beside Eddie as the others loaded the container into the Dragonborn's cargo bay.

"G'areth made a new friend," she told him in an amused tone. "Mott has a whole team of pit droids and G'ar helped one with a stuck clamp. I've never seen a droid with a crush before, but there's a first time for everything."

"You made all this fuss over one measly container," Eddie scoffed and ignored her story. "What's in it?"

Thalia's smile dropped and her eyes hardened.

"Need to know." Her response was curt and sharp, and Eddie could practically feel the phantom jab of a finger against his sternum, even though her hands were clenched around the straps of her bag.

"Well, I'm letting it on my ship," he snarked back at her. "So I need to know."

And he was sure that she would fold. It wasn't an outrageous thing for the captain of the ship you hired to smuggle something onto the capital of the Empire to know just what it was he was about to smuggle. With a container that small, it couldn't be anything outrageous either. Spice, weapons, credits, artifacts...that's really all it could be. Maybe a few speeder bikes? It wasn't even large enough to fit a decently-sized speeder.

Kriff, he'd even settle for knowing who hired Thalia! She'd called herself a freelancer, right? She helped someone get something somewhere. He knew where it was going, he would either like to know the who or the what.

The longer he stared at her and waited for an answer, he should have realized that he wasn't going to get it.

For the second time in the past 24 hours, she looked nervous; her otherwise cool and confident facade faltered. She worried her bottom lip for a moment and her eyes darted to the loading ramp where the container was being lifted in.

Then she looked back at Eddie.

"I'll pay extra," she said. "If you stop asking about what's inside."

Eddie felt a hot annoyance ignite in his chest.

"See," he pushed himself off the hull and took a step closer, "these are all terms that we should have discussed before I agreed to this job. All the little extras you seem to want, how much that'll affect my crew's cut of the payoff, who we're working for—"

"You're working for me," Thalia cut him off to respond.

"Then who are you working for?" Eddie asked sharply, and then sucked a breath in through his teeth. "Oh, sorry, is that 'need to know' too?"

Thalia's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth and she exhaled sharply out of her nose.

"As a matter of fact, it is," she replied after a beat.

"And you're gonna pay me not to ask about that either, right?"

"Sure am."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Alright," Merg clapped her hands, ignorant of the glaring contest Eddie and Thalia were engaged in. "She's all loaded up. All of the forms are in order. That is to say...the forms don't exist."

There was another beat of silence, and an unexpected twitch in the corner of Eddie's eye, then Thalia broke eye contact and turned to the Theelin.

"Thanks for everything," she said gratefully. "You guys know it means the world to me when you help me out in a pinch."

"Thanks for having extra credits when you're in a pinch," Merg winked. She looked over at Eddie. "You take care of our girl, huh Moonsun? I know we're pals now, but I don't want to have to put a bounty on your head."

Merg turned on her heel and walked back to her ship with the wave of a hand as a farewell.

Eddie folded his arms across his chest and took another step closer to Thalia.

"What did she mean, 'take care of our girl?'" he asked, almost afraid of the answer

"It means exactly what you think it means," Thalia snorted. "Don't let anything happen to me. Or the cargo. But, mostly me; Merg is very protective."

"And why would good ol' Merg think I have anything to do with protecting you?" Eddie narrowed his eyes at her, but she simply smiled innocently.

Condescendingly.

"Listen, lady," Eddie started. "I don't know who you think you are, but you were not a part of this deal. None of this was a part of this deal. My crew and I are smuggling cargo for you. Suddenly we're not supposed to know what it is or who wants it? Fine. But this is where I draw the line. So get your cute little uniform back on and get on a Star Tours flight straight to Coruscant if you want to meet us there. You are not setting foot on my ship. And don't you dare say you'll pay extra. There aren't enough credits in the galaxy."

"You didn't just agree to this job Eddie," Thalia spat at him. "You agreed to help me, and helping me means that that container doesn't get within a parsec of me. So I'm coming aboard your ship, whether you like it or not."

"You can't just keep adding new terms to the job because you feel like it," Eddie argued.

He was about to call his friends and tell them to off-load the container when Thalia grabbed his arm to stop him again.

But he shook her off.

He was done with her manipulative tactics, her little mind tricks. The touching and the pleading and the you're-my-only-hope. His crew might fold at the prospect of credits and a round of drinks and a pretty face, but he wouldn't. Not this time. He was the captain, this was his business, this was how he made sure he and his friends had a future...especially when the future of the galaxy seemed so grim.

"I don't know who you think I am," he snarled at Thalia. "But I'm not some rookie who's gonna let himself get walked on. And if that's the kind of service you want your highness, then I'm not the kind of smuggler you're looking for."

"You're the only smuggler I trust," she insisted.

"Trust? You don't even know me, how can you trust me? How did you even hear about me?"

"Word of mouth? Holonet? Does it really matter?" She shook her head. "But we're here now. The cargo is already loaded. Everything is set. So what's gonna get me on that ship with that container and en route to Coruscant?"

What could he say to get her to give up? A million credits? Two? But that desperation…he almost felt bad—almost—that he was gonna take a Star Tours flight attendant for all the credits she was worth. However, he knew that she wasn't just some innocent little flight attendant. She was a con artist, a criminal. Just like he was.

"I want 80% of the cut," he demanded. 

There was some hesitation at first—and to be honest, Eddie thought that was such a ridiculous number that she’d simply tell him no—but eventually Thalia nodded.

"Done.”

His eyebrows jumped in surprise and he continued.

"And I'm there when you meet this mysterious benefactor you're so intent on keeping secret. That way I know I'm not getting screwed over."

"Sure. Fine. Next."

What else? What else?

"I call the shots from here on out," he continued. "No more secret and sudden demands I don't know about. I'm the captain for a reason."

He couldn't control the smirk that formed on his lips as he watched her jaw clench at that.

"What about—" she started but he cut her off.

"Ah, ah. There's no 'what abouts.' I'm the captain. You said you trust me. Then trust me. And I'll trust you."

"Then I need a failsafe," she insisted. "Some kind of clause in case you muck up the whole job. Like if the Empire does find that container."

"They won't."

"But if they do."

There was an edge to her voice, a nervousness, that put him on edge.

"They won't," Eddie repeated. "But if they do. If something happens and nothing goes horribly wrong, like the ship blowing up or something like that, then our cut goes down to 50%. Not just zero. If you're so afraid of the Empire, then that means my crew and I are taking a big risk here; 50% that's my failsafe."

Thalia looked like she wanted to say something else.

In fact, he could practically hear some of her grumbled words in his head; it wasn't a stretch to imagine, he'd heard it all before.

Instead, she sighed and held out her hand.

"Deal," she said reluctantly.

Eddie grinned, slapped his hand into hers, and shook. Then, once her grip loosened, he pulled her into the crook of his arm and gestured to the loading ramp.

"Then Miss Trieste, welcome aboard the Dragonborn."

Next Chapter: Episode 3: I've Got a Bad Feeling About This (Coming 2/18 at 7PM CST)

The Tag List for Luminous Beings is currently open; please comment/ask/DM to be added.

[justjamespotterr]

coriolanus is such an insane play because for a story that involves so much politics, the actual political message of the play is ambiguous enough that each reader’s interpretation will depend on their own political leanings. there’s that one post about how coriolanus has been staged as both pro-fascist and pro-communist propaganda during world war ii and the cold war, respectively. today you could interpret the play as a criticism of income inequality and the upper classes’ hoarding of wealth, OR as a warning against the dangers of populism and how people in positions of relative deprivation will make violent decisions if given the chance (or both!). however the only thing that is absolutely not up for debate is that coriolanus and aufidius were two seconds away from having sex the entire goddamn time

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[rubber-glovs]

Oooohhh the urge to yap about my ocs and the world they live in......

[poetryqueer]

the absence of horatios in hamlet adaptations somehow feels gayer than their presence

[emberoops]

OOC: Something I found today

The above link is a resource that is AMAZING for anyone that wants to give agriculture- or food-based resources and reparations. I personally find it a beautiful thing. Each pin on the map comes with a quick blurb from the person requesting aid - some lead to websites with needs listed, but most have the need listed immediately in the pin-blurb itself.

This tool is excellent in two ways: for those who have reparations to make, it is an excellent resource. For those who need bolstering, this is also excellent; many pins on this map are community efforts with a history of success in lifting BIPOC voices, promoting land stewardship and agricultural independence for BIPOC, and making food resourcing easier for those groups.

It's a beautiful homage to the power of BIPOC community.

I would like to challenge the people reading this with white privilege to read through and pick something with needs suited to your capabilities, or who have needs within your grasp in the near future.

Personally, I have chosen Our Core's AgriCultural Program, linked here.

[chenpire]

my post series recommendation is that if you've never listened to the orchestral version of hero by faouzia while thinking about Wilhelm and Simon's utter trainwreck of a romance, you should. I think you should.

[kingdomoftyto]

October this year has felt kind of vague and adrift for me, no real festive spirit to speak of--or at least nowhere near how last year felt, when it was Year of the Vampire and all.

BUT I am remedying that now with a combined pincer attack of 1) relistening to Night Vale from the beginning on my commute to work and 2) rereading Warm Bodies on my breaks/in my spare time. Things are getting increasingly spooky up in here

[kyouka-supremacy]

For tgp au, if Dazai is Michael, then who is Janet?

I have no idea? Oda? Chuuya and his themes of learning how to be a human?

[wizardnuke]

i love my ocs

[fagnumopus]

The venn diagram of theae ppl and ppl who pull put their phones in the middle of a movie night is a circle

Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?

[butchlifeguard]

primrose's ch3 is GOOD btw

[venus111]

Astrology observations

🐦‍⬛Most famous dancers have Libra and Taurus Mars

🐦‍⬛The most popular month to get married is June, The number 6 in numerology is deeply tied to love, family, and responsibility, which aligns with the themes of marriage

🐦‍⬛ Around ages 27–30, 57–60, and 87–90, Saturn Return hits, bringing major hardships, endings, and tests. many celebrities and artists died tragically around their first Saturn returns (those in club 27). I’m 27 turning 28 next month and I got diagnosed with diabetes last year it brought a range of shock,frustration,fear and depression

🐦‍⬛ Throughout history, eclipses have been seen as omens of death, political upheaval, and major global changes. People born on eclipses have intense fates

🐦‍⬛ Your South Node reveals past life themes and unresolved karma.People who refuse to evolve past their South Node tendencies often feel stuck, drained, or like they are repeating the same struggles.

🐦‍⬛ Leo, Libra, and Scorpio have the highest percentage of celebrities

🐦‍⬛ Many stalkers and possessive lovers have Taurus placements.

🐦‍⬛ Geminis live double lives, keeping secrets even from their closest friends.

🐦‍⬛ Most notorious serial killers had Virgo placements because they were highly methodical and precise in their crimes.

🐦‍⬛ Libras love a good bit of drama from afar. They’ll sit back and enjoy the show, throwing out “told you so” comments, all while pretending they don’t care. They may even act like they’re Switzerland in the middle of a war.

🐦‍⬛ Scorpios are known for their intensity, and they definitely take drama to a whole new level. They will love you with the fury of a thousand suns but can also hold a grudge longer than any reality TV feud.

🐦‍⬛ Sagittarians are the human GPS that never wants to stay still

🐦‍⬛ Pisces are the human magnet for strangers stories they have a magnetic aura that makes random strangers want to tell them their entire life story

🐦‍⬛ Aquarius is the “I Don’t Need You” Best Friend they might be social and love hanging out, but they’re independent to a fault. They can disappear for weeks at a time, only to resurface and casually say, “Oh, I was just solving world problems… no biggie.”

🐦‍⬛ Aries is the master of excuses If things aren’t going as planned, they’re great at coming up with excuses.

🐦‍⬛ Capricorns hold themselves to extremely high standards, and they apply this to everyone around them.

[jessamine-rose]

*gasp* It's me ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

🍵 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝒟ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒯? ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚: A Yandere!H:SR x Reader Otome Game

✧ romanceable characters (© hoyoverse): Professor Veritas Ratio, "Your friend" Kakavasha, and "Gallagher" [for now]

✧ content warning: yandere themes, mentions of racial/species discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), (y/n) uses they/them, the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC & Mac AND online play for any devices, though download is preferable to avoid pixellated graphics & misaligned textboxes)

You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...

☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular,

☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two;

☕ or Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?

☕ or are there two more you're forgetting?

... so...

𝒲𝐻𝒪 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉?

Please support this game by reblogging the post & sending asks/comments! I put a lot of time and effort writing, drawing, and learning to code for this. Thank you so much, my beloved yandere!H:SR community and of course, @dreamjolt-hostelry, for being supportive friends!!! - @beloved-brynn

✧ Characters, Background Art and UI Credits

Hoyoverse assets sourced from the-astral-express-archive. I just tweaked em a bit!

Canva freestock images... Haha...

✧ Intro video, sprites & CG art Credits

Me!!! Hi <3 I hope you enjoyed them! I can't believe yall made me learn adobe after effects a bit for this-

✧ Music Credits

The main menu theme (the first song upon booting the game) is made by @naraven!

The rest of the royalty free music soundtrack (such as the music used for the video above) is sourced from Vodovoz Music Productions!!! Please show the creator some love!!! I was actually vibing so hard while listening to them lmao

✧ (Fan)Story

lol hi again!!! man. i feel like Argenti.

If you wish to support my work and want to see more of this in the future, please buy me a coffee! So I can at least prove to my parents that my work is at least worth one dollar ;;;;