#i need to do a post about the frozen ship and their stances on it and whether they match up

[raayllum]

4x03 / 6x03

[mareenavee]

Okay, I want you to gimme some Varlais answers~ Because I love a disaster Thalmor

Which areas of Skyrim do they find most beautiful and most dangerous?

Do they regret journeying to Skyrim?

Who is their mentor? Who do they go to most for lessons?

What is their stance on taking a life? Do they kill without a second thought, in the name of a god or daedra, or do they adhere to pacifism?

Hehehe. Okay, alright. I'm inspired. Let's go. I'll let Linare Varlais answer these things himself. :> (From this ask game here.)

Which areas of Skyrim do they find most beautiful and most dangerous?

Hm. Skyrim. I'd say, especially now with the dragons flying about like vermin, it's likely dangerous everywhere. There is a kind of beauty though, if you ignore the danger. I'd say the most beautiful place is likely Solitude, or the surrounding mountains overlooking the ocean. It's cold, but it reminds me as much as is possible of Alinor, regardless of the snow and ice. It's still the sea and it's close enough. That said, it's still one of the most dangerous places here. There, Solstheim, Winterhold, Markarth...anywhere there is a strong Thalmor presence, honestly. You make one mistake and you're -- well. No need to worry about that. As I said, everywhere's dangerous these days.

Do they regret journeying to Skyrim?

Well, to be perfectly honest with you I never did have any choice in the matter. I've lived here most of my life. My father was a guard for -- oh. Yeah, no Ondolemar just said I shouldn't bring him up, so I won't. After a few interesting events, he was promoted to Lady Elenwen's personal guard and that opened up a lot of doors for me when I got older. The only time I get to leave this frozen boulder of a province is when I mess something up and am sent back to Alinor for retraining. After that, though...ugh. They always ship me back to Northwatch as if that'll make the difference. I do regret the mistakes, even when I can't help but make them, because I absolutely hate that fort. If I never see the inside of it again, I'll die happy.

Who is their mentor? Who do they go to most for lessons?

I think this is a complex question, and Ondolemar will kill me if I divulge too many details, maybe. But I can say this. My mother and my sister taught me everything I know about archery. My sister's skills probably outpaced Mother's, and I'm sure she could've outshone me, too, if she had survived her retraining. ... ...Yes, sorry, I was just... I was just thinking. Forgive me. Anyway. Yes, it's not possible to go to Alinor on my own right now with my current posting to train with my parents. Instead, I put all my focus behind the plan Ondolemar is working on. I look to him for guidance whenever things get a bit iffy. For me, to be honest, they usually do.

What is their stance on taking a life? Do they kill without a second thought, in the name of a god or daedra, or do they adhere to pacifism?

I am not a pacifist. Oh, but Gods would I have preferred that. No, early on I learned how it really is in this world. My parents are both veterans of the Great War, and their philosophy on the matter -- regardless of if they'd be able to form other opinions -- is that if one does not strike first, then in most cases, it gives the other person the opening they need to eliminate you. And I've seen it plenty all across Skyrim, a thousand different times. After a while, you don't think. You just aim and shoot an arrow and hope it's enough to get you out of danger. I can't say it doesn't affect me, because I do hate it. Very much. But I can't fix anything if I don't try. That said, I don't fight for a god and certainly certainly not a Daedra. I fight to remain part of the insurgence, more or less, so that I might right the wrongs done to my family first, and to my people as an extension of that.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x8 thoughts

I am so lucky that the creators of Ted Lasso decided to make this entire show specifically for me. #blessed

If last week felt like a bit of breathing room (albeit tense, poignant, character-progressing breathing room) with distinct narrative lines, this week’s episode was a chaotic yet tightly-written swirl of pain and hope and sadness! No neat subject headers for this one, y’all. Just my brain and heart in the inadequate form of a bulleted list. It is the medium available to me at this time.

I am going to remember the moment when Ted calls Sharon and tells her his father killed himself for the rest of my life.

(I could say a bunch of stuff about his face and what he says and how he tries to hide his tears from Beard right after and how insanely much I adore this character and ahhhhhhhh but I’m just going to leave that scene there in our collective memories.)

Jamie. JAMIE. Higgins has given some great advice about love on this show, but his musings about his up-and-down relationship with his own father were not helpful in the context of Jamie’s dad, who is an abusive piece of shit. I really adore that all of the main AFC Richmond staff members are realistically a bit hit-or-miss with their advice and life philosophies (some are mostly miss this season, of course).

And I am completely in awe of the moment when Jamie punches his father. The way he just stands there after Beard kicks his dad out of the locker room. The way you can hear a pin drop. And Roy—Roy who is learning in so many areas of his life about his influence on people, learning that the things he needs aren’t necessarily the same as the things other people need—is the one to cross the room and hug him. Hold him, really, with the tenderness Ted used when he hugged Rebecca outside the gala in 1x4. God.

I’ve thought a lot about how s1 was about giving people a soft place to land. There’s always an angel there when you need one. There’s always an opportunity to be kind. If you look for someone, you find them. If you look for the good in someone, you find the good. And as everyone works through their individual journeys in s2, that can’t always be the case anymore. But there are still so many moments of angels on this show, and it’s not about chance and serendipity and fate [not that it was about that in s1] but about the effort it takes to become someone who can be there for someone else. Or who can be there for yourself. I’m so proud of Jamie for physically fighting back against his father. I’m so proud of Roy for being the one who recognized what Jamie needed.

I have every feeling in the world about how Ted is almost totally frozen both times (s1 and s2) he witnesses Jamie’s father abusing him. In s1, he was still there for Jamie after, and I have every reason to believe he’ll be there for Jamie after this incident as well, but that frozen stance HURTS. He’s in so deep with his pain about his own father that it’s like he physically cannot snap out of it to act in the moment. It seems entirely outside of his control, and it breaks my heart, because Ted wants so badly to be a good father, a good coach, a good friend, a good partner, a good patient. He’s there for people in all kinds of ways, even in his current less-than-capable state. He takes care of Sharon post-concussion and even gets her a new bike! During the disastrous match at Wembley his coaching is ineffectual and everything is chaos but he’s the last one standing on the pitch! But this really awful thing keeps happening to Jamie and Ted is just…frozen in the face of it. Like one of those nightmares where you’re running in place.

The frozen-in-place nightmare also kind of applies to the way the total separation between Ted and Rebecca feels, too. I have never for a moment doubted the writers’ intentions in setting these characters up as soulmates on parallel journeys, and I’m actually really digging (on a story level) how disconnected they are right now. It is IMPRESSIVE that their absence in each other’s lives feels like such a glaring loss, one we cannot forget even as there are so many other things happening onscreen. It is 100% not just shipper goggles making me process information about Ted while thinking about Rebecca and information about Rebecca while thinking about Ted. I know there are a lot of really angry and frustrated people in the fandom right now (both T/R shippers and T/R antis and non-shipping fans who don’t get why s2 is different from s1) and while I understand being frustrated by choices characters make, and frustrated by the feelings the show makes us feel that we just want to feel more of or less of, I continue to agree with pretty much every narrative choice happening right now.

Agreeing with the narrative like this?! This is such a unique experience for me as a viewer—to feel like I’m on a ride that is at once absolutely wild and incredibly sensible and well-crafted, and to feel simultaneously completely invested and anticipatory and speculative but also totally willing to trust where it goes. I long for Ted and Beard to really talk. I long for Ted and Rebecca to stop missing each other. I long for Roy to have a serious conversation with Ted about what’s happening with him. I long for Keeley to find a vocation, something that drives her beyond her projects. I long for so many things! But I wouldn’t long for them if this show was less good. If the show was less good, I wouldn’t have a wish list a mile long because I wouldn’t be so attuned to the details and potential lurking in every scene. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD SHOW, I CANNOT HANDLE IT, I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

(To that end, a great deal of the Ted Lasso tag and so many Twitter reactions reactions to the show feel super stressful right now and I am kind of just trying not to look?! I love this fandom so much because of the amazing conversations that happen and because of brilliant fic and because there are some awesome people I never would have encountered were it not for this show. That little bubble is wonderful and I’d stay in this fandom no matter what in order to keep experiencing those things. But fans’ catastrophic reactions to every little thing that happens, every little choice a character makes that isn’t the “perfect” choice? The takeaway that the writers—on this show of all shows—wake up in the morning ready for another day of torturing shippers rather than another day of writing a beautiful story they genuinely want to write? I do not enjoy those parts at all. I would like to opt out of those parts. I’m having such a magical experience watching this show and talking about this show and listening about this show and writing about this show with a variety of people who feel all kinds of ways. I truly wish I could somehow transfer the energy of this experience onto all the people who are hating it right now. I don’t mind at all that people are having vastly different reactions to this show and are sharing their honest feelings, including the really angry ones (I can appreciate something and disagree with it!), and I get that sometimes the language of fannish reactions is intentionally, ironically hyperbolic. But there feels like this very serious trend of people legitimately thinking writers on this show are targeting shippers and have lost respect for their characters, and I just feel like an alien from another planet when I see that stuff. I guess I just feel like people make art because they want their art to be visible to other people and to themselves, but that doesn’t typically involve specifically catering to or torturing a subset of that audience?)

I am more fascinated by Sharon Fieldstone than ever before. I have been running through every single action with her and Ted so many times. The confirmation that she’s living in club-provided housing (that could not look more different from Ted’s club-provided flat). Ted clearly noticing the many bottles. Sharon’s face while she tries to casually recycle them. (Sharon could legitimately have a more problematic relationship with alcohol than Ted does, and I find that extremely interesting and am very curious to find out what happens there.) Sharon leaving him voice notes while she’s concussed, probably because she’d been thinking about him shortly before the accident. The way Ted calls her and does all the funny voices and it’s not frustrating like all the times he uses his silliness and allusions to deflect during their prior conversations because this time, those behaviors are just a part of him showing care for another person. The way they stretch each other, and Ted is still wrong about the things he’s been wrong about, but they both grow all the same.

While it is pretty much impossible for me to imagine that this show would include an actual romantic relationship between Ted and Sharon (it would be beyond unethical even if they could write it well, and Sharon in particular is so professional and committed to her work, and it would erase so much of the powerful message about the importance of seeking therapy from a professional who is not your friend or partner, and I would totally hate it), watching this episode was the first moment I had this queasy little feeling that it’s possible that Ted could end up developing really complicated feelings about Sharon since, at this point, he’s been honest with her about things he’s hardly spoken about before and you can really form an attachment to people you feel safe with in a new way. (I mean, I’m sure Michelle knows what happened with Ted’s father, but I’m not even certain if Beard does.) He’s so broken right now, and Sharon is such a great person and so different from anyone else in his life (even though Rebecca is also different, and Beard is also different, and Roy is also different, and so on), that I could see things getting really fuzzy for him. I continue to have faith in the way the storylines on this show are handled. I’m just. Putting this here.

(In saying that, though, I also wanna make it really clear that I don’t just automatically assume anytime a new female character is introduced that they’re going to end up becoming a romantic complication. Like, Phoebe is allowed to have a teacher who is an attractive woman and AFC Richmond is allowed to have a sports psychologist who is an attractive woman and Keeley is allowed to talk to Jamie Tartt without it threatening what she has with Roy and all these people can exist as human beings without the introduction of romantic drama.)

Isaac gives every player one haircut per season, OH MY GOD. The JOY during the haircut scene. YES.

KEELEY AND REBECCA. Their text thread. The affirming video call right before Rebecca goes into the restaurant. The way Keeley sits all snuggled up against Rebecca in her office.

I was pretty thoroughly spoiled for the Sam and Rebecca plot through 2x8, and I was bracing for something far more problematic and tortured than what happens in this episode. The words I would use to describe their scenes: awkward, cute, cringy, and understandable. There are a million reasons why this relationship isn’t sustainable, but I felt completely understanding of both their choices here. This show has a lot of thesis statements, but I keep going back to the idea from 2x1 that there are people who enter your life to help you get to the next point, and I think it’s entirely possible that Sam and Rebecca will mutually be that for each other.

I find comparisons between Rupert and Rebecca super upsetting. There are absolutely meaningful things to say about the irony of ending up in a situation with an uncomfortable resemblance to certain taboo elements of an ex’s situation. But that ex is abusive and manipulative and cruel and Rebecca has exhibited NONE of those behaviors, and it makes me really sad to think that people feel that the writers on this show have betrayed Rebecca in giving her this storyline.

As always, I reserve the right to keep blathering about this show. I’ve had a headache for a couple of days, but my head is also so full of 2x8 thoughts that I couldn’t keep them in even if the circumstances for writing this were not ideal. I kind of hate that I’ve included frustrated fandom thoughts within the analysis of what I felt was an absolutely gorgeous, complicated, heartbreaking, near-perfect episode of television, but if ya can’t be a little dramatic on your own tumblr while you’re feeling raw and under the weather, where can ya?

[thethiefandtheairbender]

exclusionists: you can’t be asexual bc that means ur sexualizing everyone else!! like minors!! they don’t need comprehensive sex ed or have any sexual thoughts, ur just projecting it onto them, you dirty sinner. ur just lying that you’re 16 and ace, or a gross adult trying to force sexuality onto kids, eww! all people who aren’t us are predators! 

terfs: you can’t support teens exploring their gender identity!! ur going to trick young girls into hating their bodies and let grown men into our spaces!! trans adults are just predators!! sex work and porn is also Bad bc uhh trans women do them insert something about q-slur here! i know hating trans ppl seems really extreme but it’s just like how aspec people invade lg+ spaces!! all people who aren’t us are predators! 

antis: you can’t write teenaged characters having loving relationships that include sex, no matter how much you age them up to their 20s or 30s!! they’re frozen at that age silly, teens don’t have any sexual thoughts, ur just projecting it onto them, you dirty sinner. no you can’t hc teenagers or early 20 somethings as asexual either. ur just lying that you’re 16 and ace, or a gross adult trying to force sexuality onto kids, eww! all people who aren’t us are predators! 

me, a trans ace nb who just wants to ship and post my appropriately tagged shit peacefully, and has held my “not an anti” stance since i was 13: 

[luffles424]

Dark Side (01)

☼ Pairing: Namjoon x reader x Jungkook

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

☼ Count: 16.8K

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

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

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

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

Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, bring her with.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Train me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you been eating well, boy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? But-” Jungkook starts.

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

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

“Where are we going?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are we going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bought it off a guy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long do I get?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. “You can certainly try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Surrender.”

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

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

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

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

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

You snort. “Good luck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s no way-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook rolls his eyes when he sees you have two sabers strapped to your belt. “Really? Need a backup just in case you fumble?”

You glare at him. “Hey rockhead, plenty of accomplished sith have used two sabers. At least it’s not a double sided one.” You smirk as your gaze drifts to his own saber resting on his hip. “Those aren’t even that useful in combat.”

You walk off before he can respond. You have absolutely no idea where you’re going, but you’ll be damned if you let Jungkook get the last word. If you really need help, you can always just ask someone to point you in the direction of Namjoon’s office. You hear the thud of boots and then Jungkook is beside you, gently directing you towards a lift. It doesn’t take you long to reach the office and Jungkook is quick to knock once reaching the door. 

Hearing a soft ‘enter,’ Jungkook presses the door controls and they swish open before you. Namjoon doesn’t look up when you enter, deeply engrossed in reading something on a datapad before him. He only looks up when neither of you say anything for a stretch of time. He smiles and you’re a little dumbfounded to see his dimples again and that they make him look absolutely adorable without a sinister red light shining on his face, words you would definitely never mention to his face. 

“Little one, you’ve returned.” His eyes trail slowly across your figure, taking in your new clothes and he pauses at your sabers, grin becoming impossibly wider. “I see you’ve passed. As I knew you would. I assume everything went well then?”

You go to speak but Jungkook cuts you off as he shoulders past you. “It went just great.” He grumbles, moving to stand beside Namjoon’s desk and faces you, a scowl firmly on his face. 

You scowl back before turning back to beam at Namjoon. “I did. I seemed to impress a lot of people.” You step up to the desk, lifting your bag to rest on the edge as you quickly dig through it. “I had to make a small detour due to a sandstorm during my trial in the valley. But,” you give a smile of triumph as you pull the dagger, scrolls, and amulet from your bag and present them proudly to Namjoon, “it seemed to work in my favor. I found these.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he looks at the items in your hands. Jungkook looks just as surprised to see that you found something you hadn’t mentioned before now. Namjoon takes them from you, carefully inspecting each of them, his face inscrutable. 

“What useless garbage.” Jungkook looks up at you as he takes a step, reaching out and roughly grabbing your arm. “How dare you waste Namjoon’s time like this, you ungrateful little-”

“Jungkook, enough. Let her go.” Namjoon cuts in. 

Jungkook stares at him in bewilderment, grip tightening around your arm. “You can’t be serious, master. She’s just wasting your time with some useless trash that she thinks will get her into your good graces. You can’t-”

Namjoon’s hands slam on the table as he stands, startling both you and Jungkook. He looks far more imposing when he draws himself up to his full height. “I said that was enough, Jungkook. I believe it is for me to decide whether the items are of worth or not, not yours.” His gaze hardens the longer Jungkook continues to hold your arm until finally he rips his hand away from you. You definitely don’t envy him for being on the receiving end of that look. “You may leave now, Jungkook. You have training in the morning. I will send you the instructions later.”

Jungkook stands there, mouth open for a moment before he snaps it shut with a growl. He throws one last hateful look at you before storming out of the room. Silence descends on the room and you begin to nervously fidget the longer it stretches. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought anything back. It probably wasn’t anything that important.

Namjoon sits back down in his chair with a small sigh. “I’m sorry about him, little one. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he’s usually much friendlier.” He looks up at you with a smile. “But we can deal with that later. I’d rather focus on your accomplishments right now. Not only did you complete your trials, which are incredibly difficult for even acolytes that have trained for it their whole lives, but you managed to find something extra.” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “And you snuck them out of the Valley rather than turning them in.”

He looks over the items again, much more at ease now that Jungkook has left. “Where did you find them?”

“I’m not sure. The tomb looked more recent than the one I went into for my trial and it seemed like whatever of importance was there had already been taken. I took shelter there from a sandstorm and while waiting I found a secret door and these were behind it in a plain chest.”

He purses his lips, carefully inspecting each of the items before setting them down on his desk. “I’ll have to take some time to carefully go over these, but they certainly seem like they’ll be fascinating to study. I’m quite proud.”

You feel yourself flush at the praise.

He stands and motions for you to follow as he leaves his office. “Now, I’ve gotten a place set up for you, it’s next to Jungkook’s and in the same building as mine, just on a lower floor. I can take you there so that you can get settled in before we start on your training in earnest. But first,” he grins as he steps out of the academy, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “I believe we should go celebrate such an accomplishment, don’t you think?”

[shamelessllamapeanutthing]

Ships and Feels about them

HUGE self-indulgent post but my brain is frozen and I need to get the juices flowing so I can start studying, because if I don’t get into the college I want I just might have to kill myself and then y’all can say bye-bye to your fav fics by your majesty. 

YoruSoi- status: worSHIPPING (geddit? XD) them like the goddesses they are

I regularly play Wicked Ones by Dorothy and just imagine these two tag-teaming against their opponents, like the crazy, badass, ninja lesbians they are. It fucking gives me goosebumps and makes me blush like I am imagining them rawing each other instead. I am a big time SUCKER for powerful, cut-throat wlw. They make me feel powerful by extension, and my devotion for these two is completely unparalleled. 

VictUuri- status: will protect them with my life  

First of all, I love how layered and interesting they are. I can think about this show and this ship for hours and hours on end ( @feastingonvicturi will vouch for that). I naturally gravitate towards angsty ships and writing (because I am a weird sado-maso cross, what can I say) except for these two fluffy bastards. I had been putting off watching YOI because of the weird things I had read about ‘yaoi’ animes (IK YOI is not yaoi, now) till someone told me how pure and deep their love for each other was and welp, here we are. 

RenRuki- status: comfort ship I’ll defend till death

It was one of my first ships and even as I multi-shipper, I always had a preference for them. Childhood-friends-to-lovers trope tugs on my heartstrings like little else and Renji’s devotion towards Rukia warms my heart. I hear them in nearly every song, imagine them in every scenario I read or write about and even though I have multiple ships I adore involving Rukia and Renji both, the two together is everything to me. (Presently obsessed with the amazing hcs and art by @recurring-polynya you might wanna check them out)

KaiRay- status: heart is taking a break, but remains firmly attached

I got into Beyblade BECAUSE of this ship, because of the moments these two shared in V-Force that I caught glimpses of when my younger siblings were watching the show. I love Kai and Ray’s dynamic and I guess what attracts me the most to this ship is the fact that as a teenager I was exactly like Kai and had my own personal Ray who got me through the worst in life. I love the sense of sweet nostalgia this couple brings me and I believe they are perfect for each other. 

MariahEmily- status: coffee shop AU, anyone? 

I was HUGE on MariahxRay but strong, stylish, kinda bitchy, dumb thot falling for the highly educated and fierce lady boss she doesn’t really know how to approach is another one of my favourite tropes, (see: PansMione, down under). I saw them interact and due to personal reasons my brain rejects petty rivalry between girls (because we’re all tired of that, children, be honest) and immediately tries to fix it in fanon. ( @trashyartz  and her beautiful drawings had a lot to do with fanning these flames.) 

ShunUki- status: want them to adopt me

Need I say more? No, but I wanna. I love the steady, secure vibes of this ship. This is the one ship I physically can’t write angsty shit about because of the level of understanding and sense of comfort these two share. They give me kind and strong dad vibes and I have emotionally been an orphan since I was in my early teens so. 

WolfStar- status: they’re canon, JKR can suck my toes

Fucking TERF 

Listen, listen, have you been listening? I mentioned I am a sucker for angst, right? Are you looking at the angst potential here, cause wow. What originally attracted me to this ship was the Chemistry between the two, cause it’s undeniable. You can NOT imagine Maurauders’ Era without imaging these two pining over each other. It’s impossible. 

PansMione- status: toxic and problematic, but oh so hot

I got on this ship because I was craving some quality wlw ships. You guys’ I can not explain to you how often female characters in shows and books do not pass the Bechdel test and I stumbled on some gorgeous PansMione art and just fell in love. IK this ship is hella problematic, but I am firm on my stance that the baby Slytherins deserve a redemption arc. 

Can you imagine these two after Pansy realises everything she did wrong and vows to be better? I imagine Hermione stumbling on a hurt and confused Pansy in year 8, who can’t stop her tears from flowing and is so ashamed of herself for that. She is feeling guilty and resisting the emotion with everything she possesses because the world she’d always known has crumbled down around her and everything she believed in has now been proven to be wrong. 

She lashes out at Hermione because how dare that smart, gorgeous, courageous girl also be everything Pansy once thought she was? How dare she, a muggleborn, unravel the complicated threads of the wizard world so quickly, so efficiently, and clearly see what Pansy never could? Pansy is hurt and guilty and angry and she hates the fact that fucking Granger of all people has now witnessed her crying. 

She feels lost and her anger only rages louder when Hermione doesn’t gloat or belittle her, she doesn’t say anything. 

(Why is this turning into a ficlet, WHAT) 

Anyways, Pansy gets over herself and she and Hermione get together and oh my god, imagine them then. Smart, powerful, righteous Hermione taking the fucking Wizarding World by a storm every single day with her sexy, vivacious, clever Pansy by her side. They’d be unstoppable and they’d love each other something fierce. It would show in the way they look at each other, with a sense of victory, not only over Voldemort but over the entire Wizarding society that had done everything it could to tear them apart, and ultimately failed. 

(BONUS: Imagine Ron and Harry being utter dorks when they go to Pride parades with Hermione and let the image cleanse your skin and soul. @feastingonvicturi @trashyartz one of you (or both?) needs to collab with me so I can write a fix it fic for these two, please. I will pledge my soul to the devil to be used and abused as per Trashy’s whims in exchange. Taura will do it cause she’s my best friend and loves me more than I deserve to be loved.)

(In conclusion, I adore every single one of these ships and am willing to slice a bitch’s throat to protect their honour. Except for YoruSoi, they are fictional characters IK but I am convinced they do not need anybody’s protection, least of all this dumb fuck’s and just might laugh at the very idea.) 

Also, feel free to reblog or comment with rants about your own ships even if they go directly against mine. More love to you if you expand on the ships I mentioned here myself. Tell me about your poison of choice, go ahead. 

But if any one of you dares to send hate to any of my ships, please know that I am something of a God in my own capacity and will smite you with my preferred weapon of choice i.e. blindness in the face of adorable puppies or kittens (in pictures, videos, art, real life or otherwise). Beware. Let people love what they love.

[tros-for-dinner]

The tros death star fight, reimagined

A little background to set up my re-imagining of the scene: through most of the movie, Rey and Kylo are at cross-purposes. (I wrote the following in two hours, it isn’t perfect yet, keep in mind it’s a revision-in-progress).

Rey: in the start of the movie, she and Kylo experience a vision in the Force together. They both see Rey sitting on the throne, ruler of the galaxy - this Rey is completely alone, having isolated herself from her friends and Kylo. Her pain and anger are immeasurable, and she’s destroying the galaxy with her power in the Force (she’s lashing out, but with the Force). Rey sees the vision, and sets out to find the throne and destroy it. Through the story, she learns more about the throne. (Long story short, palpatine and the throne are a metaphor for how greed corrupts, because greed is the cause of suffering.)

Kylo: in parallel to Rey - he experiences the vision with Rey: in the vision, he is dead because she killed him. He can feel his death approaching but his survival instinct is rebelling, he doesn’t want to succumb to this fate he thinks he’s been born into. He goes to Mustafar in pilgrimage, finds the holocron, gives himself PTO to go where the map leads. (Hux is the one making the actual leadership decisions for the F.O.)

Kylo goes to Exogol and finds the throne and palpatine, who tells him that he can be the most powerful being in the universe…if he kills Rey. Kylo is extremely conflicted about this. He is convinced he’s supposed to want power but he doesn’t want to destroy this person who he has such a deep connection with. Rey finds out he has the map through a force-skype scene and decides she’s going to steal the map from him so she can get to the throne. 

Through their force Skype scenes in the movie, Kylo is trying to convince Rey that she isn’t so high-and-mighty. “We’re not so different,” he says, which is the truth. “What are your friends going to say when they find out you interact with the dark side of the Force as much as any Darksider?” he asks, pointedly. “The dark side is a part of us, whether we like it or not.”

When the gang smuggles themselves aboard Ren’s star destroyer to rescue Chewie (in my reimagining it is Rose they’re rescuing), Rey splits off from the group to find the map (but doesn’t tell her friends that’s what she’s really doing). In the end, she doesn’t find it, and longer escape short, force-pirouettes herself away in the hangar after Kylo lets her go (he stands between her and the troopers so he can stop any blaster bolts they may loose). 

Critical moment: when Kylo sees her face-to-face in the hangar - seeing each other in person for the first time since the throne room - he realizes that he won’t ever be able to kill her, not for any reward in the galaxy. He decides then he’s going to destroy the throne and palpatine. He knows he isn’t strong enough to do it alone. He wants Rey to help him. 

Kylo follows the Falcon to Kif Bir, in effect abandoning the First Order, and tracks Rey out to the Death Star wreckage.

Long part of Finn’s plot short: the Falcon crash lands in a village of ex-stormtroopers, Finn decides he’s going to spend the rest of his life trying to free troopers. A couple of months ago I posted to tumblr the scene where he tells Poe, it was pretty well-received and I’m proud of it.

Rey sees the death star, realizes through her experience scavenging imperial ships that there will be a map room (and she can ‘feel it in the Force’ or whatever). Or, the ex-troopers tell her gossip that there’s a map hidden in that piece of the ship in the sea. Either way, Rey makes a gamble and goes out to the death star wreckage without telling anybody.

So all of this leads up to the Death Star. Rey rappels to the Emperor’s chambers and experiences a vision in the Force - dark side rey. This version of her is cruel and uncaring, absolutely fractured by pain and anger and loneliness: what she will become if she keeps pushing her friends away and insisting she can do everything by herself. Because that’s the lesson in this movie: the Force brings us together. None of us can do it alone. Every person needs a community, some sort of social structure in which to exist. To isolate ourselves, not accept help when we need it, to drown in loneliness - these things are antithesis to the Force. Palpatine tells Rey and Kylo that to be powerful, they have to isolate themselves, but that is a lie so he can control them. The truth is, to be powerful, they have to work together.

Rey gets out of the map room/vision, and Kylo has found her. Him being there is a declaration: ‘I’m choosing whatever side you’re on.’ “We need to work together to destroy the throne!” he implores her.

Rey, shaken from the vision, and not yet accepting how she feels about Kylo, rejects this. He destroys the second map in a very stupid attempt to bluff: ‘now the only way to palpatine is with me’. Rey realizes that the second map is still in his ship, which is parked very close by, and chooses to fight Kylo for it.

So: the two of them are actually fighting about something in the death star wreckage. Rey wants to beat kylo so she can get to his ship and fly away alone; Kylo is trying to logic Rey into them working together. He’s not interested in killing her, and refuses the killing blow every time one arises.

Leia is dying. She reaches out in the Force and both Rey and Kylo can feel her presence; both are distracted. Leia tells Ben that she loves him, and she dies.

Rey and Kylo are standing in the ocean spray, shellshocked. Rey recovers first, and she force-snatches Kylo’s ‘saber right out of his hand (or, from the deck, if he drops it in a fit of abstentia).  He startles, trying to grab it back, but it’s too late: Rey is holding his saber in her hand. He stares at her with fear in his eyes, frozen in place.

Rey stops, and looks down at the saber.

She, and the audience, can see how slip-shod his saber is. We see up close the mods and fixes he made to his saber in order to still use his cracked kyber crystal. (For more info, see the Force Awakens Visual Dictionary, I think. Basically, Ben was a fucking nerd but his fix was pretty janky.) Through the Force, Rey can feel the cracked crystal in the saber: it radiates pain in unending waves. It’s a traumatized being, disguised and held together and made mostly functional with a facade of poorly-hidden nerd shit. It’s a metaphor, and Rey feels a surge of compassion for Kylo she hasn’t felt since before the throne room. 

“What happened to it?” she asks Kylo quietly, tears threatening in the back of her eyes. “The kyber.”

He blinks at her, unfreezes a little. There’s grief hidden in his face. “It’s tradition,” he answers her. “M-… Snoke said that to be a true dark-sider, I had to submit the galaxy to my will. The start of that was the crystal. Jedi form a symbiotic relationship with their kyber. Darksiders bend the kyber to their will.” He looks away, fighting his bitter grief. “My resolve wasn’t strong enough. I broke the crystal. It took me ages to find a solution so I could actually use the fractured kyber.”

Rey visibly makes a decision, holds up the ‘saber, then lets go - it is suspended in the air by the Force. She takes a step back.

“I wanted to take your hand,” she confesses to him. It takes real strength for her to say this: it’s her closest-guarded secret. “Ben’s hand.”

He’s gobsmacked at this - but, more than anything, hope dawns across his face. Rey moves her gaze from him to the suspended ‘saber. She holds out her hand in the “Force Stance” towards the ‘saber, but her hand is in a fist. She takes a deliberate inhale, determination on her face, and springs her fist open.

The saber handle explodes - Kylo flinches. When he opens his eyes and looks, he’s surprised to see that she didn’t blast the ‘saber apart and scatter the pieces, as he/we expected: the components of his saber handle are like planets orbiting a miniature star, the kyber crystal. It is glowing bright in the center, and all of Rey’s attention is focused directly on it. As he watches, she heals the crystal, then reassembles the saber as it was before. She floats the saber back to him and he takes it, speechless. He ignites the saber: the blade isn’t nearly as volatile as it was before, but more importantly, instead of being red, it glows white. (Or whatever color healed crystals take, this isn’t the first time it has happened in canon, i think.) He extinguishes it and holsters it.

They take tentative steps toward one another, neither with a lit saber. Both are unsure but keep moving until they’re the closest they’ve been since the elevator.

“I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” she says to him, lifting a hand towards his face. 

He watches, breathless - he and the audience think she’s going to caress his face - but instead, her hand changes trajectory at the last second, passing over his face - it’s the same trick he used against her in the forest in Force Awakens. He passes out. His eyes roll back into his head and he collapses, dead weight - but she catches him with the Force and lowers him down gently, then picks up her heels and runs.

He comes to rather quickly - he’s unfocused for a beat, then comes fully back online - just in time to see his ship high in the sky, driving away. He staggers to his feet, a ship lands behind him. He turns - it’s the KOR. They’re there to pick him up.

“Where to, boss?” his second-in-command asks. Kylo looks at him - them being here means they’re loyal to him, not the FO. He has allies, even in this darkest time. 

“Follow my ship,” he commands, starting to strip his wet clothes. “We’re going to be there for her when she needs us.”

[bylerchoseme]

lol sorry I just happened to see you on a post where Elsa and Anna are being used to show "loving looks between lesbians“ or w/e and judging by your comment about how Elsa looks at ( HER SISTER WHO IS NOT HER FUCKING LOVE INTEREST) Anna, apparently you are into incest. It’s fine as long as you’re supporting lgbt+ right? sorry but you’re fuckin wack bro. At least find characters that aren’t siblings in their story to ship jfc

Welcome! Thanks for giving me your time. I must be important to you, right? Considering my love for Elsanna interests you, allow me to tell you how it is. I am gonna go ahead and jump right into the part where you said “it’s fine as long as you’re supporting lgbt+ right?” First off, I want you to know I’ve accepted my sexuality since I was 14 years old. I am a bisexual and have been for 13 years or so that’s what I am trying to convince myself. As a matter of fact, I am into girls more. I still struggle with labeling myself as a lesbian even though that’s the truth because my family is homophobic. I don’t need to support LGBT+ because I am a part of the community.

There are PLENTY of LGBT+ ships that I could easily ship in television and movies without the incest component. Do you know why I can’t get into them? Do you want to know the reasons? Most of them lack the things Elsa and Anna have together. There is raw chemistry with Elsanna for just being labeled as sisters. That type of top notch romantic chemistry is very difficult to find in other couples. Elsanna is animated and yet they blow all real LGBT+ couples out of the water. The writers tried desperately to give us a supposed sisterly dynamic where they can’t keep their hands off of each other due to 13 years of separation and failed to make it come across as family.

Often times, I ask myself how in the world did the animators manage to design two hand drawn fictional characters in a way where people need to question why they weren’t girlfriends in the first place? When Frozen came out in 2013, there wasn’t such thing as kids making their Elsa and Anna dolls kiss or asking their parents why don’t they act like sisters or comparing Elsa and Anna to their parents relationship or saying they should marry each other, etc. Even people that hate incest Elsanna were able to admit something was off between them. I won’t forget a comment on Twitter where the user was alluding to the fact because Elsa doesn’t have a romantic love interest is why she has such strong romantic chemistry with Anna. People are pointing stuff out regardless of whether they agree with Elsanna or not and that takes guts.

I am an OG Elsanna shipper. F2 convinced me there is no one else in the world for them. Elsa and Anna are taken with each other. They know it. The animation team didn’t try to hide it. People in general know it. If Anna and Elsa didn’t have romantic tropes and constant touching which is uncommon for normal sisters, I wouldn’t be an Elsanna shipper. I didn’t decide to ship them because I wanted to shove incest in the haters face. That’s where you’re mistaken. Unrelated LGBT+ couples pale in comparison to Elsanna and that’s one opinion of many out there.

You felt the urge to message me because you know deep down I am right. If you didn’t agree with me, you wouldn’t try to guilt trip me. Just for the record, there isn’t any canon couple in Frozen or Frozen 2 that is thoroughly developed or worthy of my time. Besides the parents, KA is the other canon couple. My stance on K*istanna is poor. They’re wrong for each other in a zillion ways and I won’t root for them just because they aren’t Elsanna. I am not obligated to make you or anyone else happy. Go cry tears elsewhere.

I can tell by your last sentence that you would rather me ship E*samaren. Unfortunately, you won’t be getting your wish. I am a proud Elsanna shipper and always will be. Nothing you say is going to change my mind. If you’re so bothered by my incest posts, block me. No one is forcing you to like Elsanna. I could care less if you do or don’t ship them. Elsanna has a massive following anyway. I don’t need you.

Elsa looks at Anna like she is the love of her life and vice versa. She doesn’t have eyes for anyone else. When you accept Elsa doesn’t have a love interest because Anna stole her heart, we can have a different talk. The crew played you. The crew played all of us. Sisters is a label and that was never their intention. Actions speak the loudest. Elsanna is gaining new shippers. The entire Frozen team made sure of that. Open your eyes. The sooner you see the truth, the better.

I could go on and on about Elsanna. My heart is passionate about them. At the end of the day, I don’t need to convince you why I ship them. I have my reasons and that’s enough for me. I don’t owe you an explanation. I won’t pretend to not ship them to satisfy you. It’s a lose, lose situation for you. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

Take care anon.

[crashdevlin]

Crashing 1- Drowning

Crashing Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Four of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: When Loki pulls Cassandra Campbell out of cryo and uses her trigger words against her, the memories that have been hiding from her since she was ten years old finally crash down on her completely.

Word Count: 3686

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, past Loki x OFC, past Bucky Barnes x OFC, past Steve Rogers x OFC

Chapter Warnings: mentions of brainwashing, mentions of murder, violence and anger, mentions of cheating

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Loki asked, setting his hand against the glass of the tank. The terrified Wakandan scientist nodded nervously. “Gives off an air of regality, even asleep.” He scoffed. “Especially asleep. There’s no fear on her here. No contempt. No attempt to run from her king,” he mused before turning to the scientist. “You can speak German, yes?”

“Y-yes.”

Loki produced a red notebook from his breast pocket and handed it backward to the man without looking away from the frozen woman. “Halfway through. Labeled ‘Kind’. Open this and recite those words.”

The man hit several buttons on the console attached to the tank and it filled with a chemical. Cassie blinked her eyes open, green orbs filling with confusion. The blur of confusion cleared out of her eyes and it was replaced with fear. “Loki?” she squeaked, struggling against the binds as the tank opened.

“Junior. Vierhundert.”

“No! Don’t read that!” Cassie struggled harder, but she didn’t move. “Please!”

“Keep going,” Loki ordered, smiling at her as she fought against the binds.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “Rot. Tochter. Vermächtnis. Fünfzig. Messer. Schädel."

“No! God, please, no! Please! Please, stop!” she begged over the trigger words.

“Johann. Zwei,” the scientist said, shaking as the woman blinked slowly...as if everything were suddenly clear.

“Undo her restraints,” Loki demanded, and the man rushed to release her. Cassie stepped down from the tank and looked around like she had new eyes. “How do you feel, Joanna? What’s different?”

“Shut up, Loki,” she bit out quietly before turning to the Wakandan man. “Run. Now. Go.”

The Asgardian watched in amusement as the man ran from the lab. “Now. How do you feel, my queen?”

“Not as different as you would want,” she snapped, leaning against the tank and looking up at Loki with disdain. “You really thought I’d come out on the other side of this ready to be your bride or something?”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d come out of it, Joanna. I was actually hoping you’d be ready to take directions as the other one does.”

Cassie scoffed and shook her head, scornfully. “Someone’s feeling a little flaccid without his scepter.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. “How dare you talk to-” he started, indignantly.

“Don’t start, Loki. Let’s just go. We don’t wanna be here when the king and the Doras get here,” she said, grabbing his coat and pulling him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Challa sent word to Steve as he was mounting his offensive on the Raft that Cassie was kidnapped out of the cryo lab by Loki, so when they were safely away from the prison and sitting in the cargo hold of a ship on its way to America, Steve sat next to Clint. “You know, Cassie was the one who gave me the information I needed to get you out.”

Clint nodded. “Yeah? When did she talk-”

“She didn’t go home after she got out. She found me and Bucky and she helped us get to Wakanda. She was instrumental.”

“Wait, but she was--what about the…” Steve looked down and Clint’s whole body slumped. “No. What happened?”

Steve shook his head. “She said she lost it, but...she also said she had some interaction with Loki after she left the Raft so...he may have...I’m not sure.”

“She must be devastated,” Clint whispered.

“Um...there’s...more.” Steve pulled the letter out of his inside pocket, but he didn’t hand it to the archer.

“Wh-”

“And before you read this, you need to know...Loki found her in Wakanda.”

Clint’s eyes went wide. “What?! What do you mean? Why did she stay in Wakanda?”

“She had them freeze her. She said that the letter would explain.” Steve set the envelope on Clint’s lap and stood.

Clint’s stomach was in knots as he slid his finger across the envelope and pulled out the letter. A weight in the envelope had him shaking out a white gold ring that he recognized. He cleared his throat to deal with the sudden dryness.

My Dearest Clint,

I’m so sorry that I cannot do this in person, but you’re in prison and I’ll be frozen by the time Steve gets you out. Loki is looking for the red book, the one that Zemo used to activate Bucky as the Winter Soldier. I’m 90% certain that my words are on those pages too. What I’m not sure of is who I will become when those words are said. Since it means I’ll be who Hydra wanted, I can’t imagine anyone would enjoy finding out. That’s why I’m going into cryo, because I can’t hurt anyone if I’m frozen. I decided it was the best course of action...and I know you’re thinking that I would never hurt anyone, but you have never been more wrong. I’ve been remembering things and I know that I have killed. I killed two SHIELD agents when I was a child and I killed a man just a few days ago. Who knows what else is hiding in my head?

I’m sorry to send the ring back like this, but it’s what you deserve. I never should have said ‘yes’. It was selfish of me. I wanted my happy ending so much that I lied...to myself and to you. But I’ve been pretending for so long and I can’t anymore. I can’t keep putting up this facade for you. I kissed Sgt. Barnes. He saw the real me, those parts that I’ve been hiding from you and something about that drove me to break your trust. You deserve better. You deserve the woman you thought I was.

Despite it all, I love you. Be well.

Cassandra Campbell (R.Q)

Clint crushed the letter in his hand, anger almost palpable in the small space. “Let me get this straight,” he snapped as he stood, stomping up to Steve as the others stared on in confusion. “While I was in prison for helping you, your buddy made out with my fiancée and then one of you convinced her to freeze herself, leaving her completely defenseless when Loki showed up to get her in the supposedly impenetrable fortress that is Wakanda?”

Steve looked up at the ceiling. “It was Bucky’s idea to go into cryo...and he isn’t the only one that she kissed,” he finished quietly.

Clint’s fist smashed into Steve’s left cheekbone, groaning as he pulled away cradling his hand. “Worth it!”

“You kissed her back?” Sam asked, as Scott tried to not look impressed and Wanda made no effort to hide her judgment of Cap.

“I…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “She...I didn’t know she kissed Bucky first and...she did say she was breaking up with you, Clint, and...I didn’t know if I was ever going to see her again. I’m sorry, Clint.”

“I know what you are thinking and she is not,” Wanda practically growled at Scott. “I could feel your judgment. You don’t know her like I do, like we do. She isn’t promiscuous.”

“Oh, really? ‘Cause, I mean...evidence to the contrary, Wanda. How many other guys does a woman have to kiss before she gets labeled a slut?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lang,” Clint growled.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Get angry with me.”

“So what are we gonna do about Loki taking her?” Sam asked.

“We’re going to go to the U.S. and we’ll go from there. Coulson gave me the location of an old SHIELD black site where we can hang our hats. We’ll search for them from there,” Steve responded.

“Screw that,” Clint snapped. “I’m going home. You can find me on the farm.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint stood in the barn, launching arrows into a target made of hay. He was furious. He was dismayed. He was taking it out on the wall behind his target.

“What’d that wall ever do to you?”

Clint turned to the voice, immediately dropping the bow and bounding for the small blonde woman. “How’d you get away from Loki?!” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

“I fought back,” she answered. “Did you expect anything less of me?”

He pulled back, eyeing her warily as a feeling of unease settled in his chest. “You...you wrote me a letter. You said Loki was looking for your trigger words. It’s the whole reason you let yourself be frozen. You didn’t want him to let out the sleeper-”

“You think Loki’s controlling me?” she asked, incredulously. She scoffed. “He’s just an alien without his fancy scepter. I’m a super soldier.”

Clint drove his fist into her jaw and stepped back into a fighting stance. “You might be, but Cassie hates being called that. You’re Joanna again,” he accused.

She smirked as she straightened, her tongue darting out to lick at her busted lip. “Actually, Clint, I prefer ‘Cassie’. Joanna Schmidt is an obvious Nick Fury construct. It evokes uncomfortable feelings and images of the noseless abomination my father became.” She wiped at the blood leaking from her lip. “Cassie, though, that gives off a feeling of hope and love. It evokes images of a young woman crying over a holiday dinner because she finally has a family to share Christmas dinner with.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I was afraid you were going to be a problem. That you were going to see the change, recognize.” She hummed sadly. “Sad. I was praying to fool you.”

“You could never fool me,” Clint spat out.

“Because you love me,” she finished for him. “You, the man who watched through a scope as I tried to piece together some semblance of a normal life. But I couldn’t, could I?” She chuckled ruefully. “Not with Phil’s help. Not even with your help. It’s like I was trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces gone. Joanna...she was a completely different puzzle, but she was missing the same number of pieces.”

“And you, what, you’re the missing jigsaw pieces?” Clint asked as his hand went to the tactical blade clipped to his belt.

Cassie lurched forward, grabbing the knife from his hand and punching him in the mouth with the handle. “The words are the pieces, you idiot. I’m the big picture, Clint. Pay attention,” she snapped. “I’m the image we’ve been trying to get to but haven’t been able to because we didn’t have the words to trigger the memories. The memories that Hydra and SHIELD decided I’d be better off without!” She kicked Clint in the chest, sending him backward into the barn door. She let out a satisfied sigh as the sound of cracked bones hit her ears.

“Because what good could come from me knowing that I killed my first enemy agents at nine years old?” she asked, with a bitter laugh. “Fury said he was afraid I’d look in the mirror and hate myself but he was terrified that I’d like it...and you know what, Hawk? I don’t.” Her smile faltered for a moment as a nauseated look took her face. “I don’t like it...but it feels right to be me. The ‘me’ I was bred to be.”

Clint coughed painfully and moved to sit up against the barn door. “This isn’t you. This is Loki.”

“Loki has nothing to do with this! I sent him packing a week ago! He wanted nothing to do with Hydra and since I am the future of Hydra, I sent his ass back to Asgard.” She squatted down in front of him, a sincere sadness gracing her pale features. “I knew this was going to be difficult for you to understand, Clint. Even before Loki made me...complete, I knew you’d hate this. I knew you’d hate me if I became this.”

Clint glared at her. “We won’t let you-”

“I know,” she interrupted softly. She nodded as she stood. “All of you would fight tooth and nail to get me back to being the person you think I should be. You’d send me off to SHIELD to be erased again. So, I guess I’ll just have to kill you all.”

Clint’s lip twitched into a sneer. “Harder villains have tried.”

“You’re right, they have...and we’ve overcome them all, but...see, Zemo had the right idea and he did half of the work for me.” She ran her hand through her hair and licked her lips. “The Avengers are strong because we work well to balance each other’s faults. The powered and the nonpowered, tacticians and geniuses and just plain strong heroes...but right now, we’re fractured. Those of that signed can come and go as we please and the rest of you, fugitives, you’re scattered. I heard Scott is even on house arrest. Are the rest of you even in contact with each other?” She shook her head. “I’ll have marched through the hidden Avengers before you all realize the rest of your team is gone...and then I’ll take the Compound.”

“You’ll never make it through all of us,” he groaned. “Even separately.”

“See, you forget, Clint, that I’ve known you all for quite a while now, so...I know your pressure points. I know your buttons, Clint. Like I know that just mentioning Bucky makes Steve stop in his tracks.” She smiled cruelly as Clint swallowed heavily. “I wish I could have been there to see his face when the Winter Soldier showed up at Fury’s old black site.”

“You didn’t,” Clint whispered.

She chuckled. “Of course I did. Why would I leave such a powerful Hydra asset on ice?”

“Why would you send him after Steve?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s Steve’s weak spot. I would be a fool to not use him. Especially since I know Soldat’s trigger phases. It’s the only Russian I know. Strucker taught me a long time ago. Did you know that Winter Soldier was supposed to be my right hand man when I came of age? When they put me at the head of Hydra, Bucky was going to be standing next to me.” Cassie examined the knife in her hand and smiled sadly. “I remember that now. I’m finally the person I was created to be, Hawk. I know you can’t be happy for me about that and...if it’s any consolation, killing you is really gonna hurt my feelings.”

A shock went through her as something hit her back but it didn’t put Cassie down. She turned to the redheaded intruder with rage in her eyes, then forced a tight smile. “Natasha! How unexpected. I didn’t think you’d be here. Did you know she was coming, babe?” she asked, stomping her booted heel down onto Clint’s hand.

“Steve sent me,” Natasha said, hand resting on the stingers on her wrist.

“Really?” Cassie growled.

“Bucky showed up at Steve’s new base and tried to kill him. Luckily, Sam was there. They were able to subdue him. When he came back to himself, he told them you sent him. He was adamant it wasn’t your fault though, so Steve called in to get you some help.”

“And you’re just here to stall until the help gets here, right?” Cassie rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek and scoffed. “Let me guess...my help comes in the form of Phil’s Zephyr 1, which will take me to Fury to be erased again.” She shook her head as she twisted her heel until she heard the crunch of Clint’s bones. Her lips twitched, attempting a smile as Clint screamed. “Someone’s not drawing a bowstring anytime soon. Something to remember me by, Hawk, since I won’t be able to.”

“It’s better this way,” Natasha said, matter-of-factly.

Cassie took her foot off of the archer’s hand and squared herself off with the Russian. “Says you. You’re not the one who has to walk around with a giant hole in your personality. You aren’t the one who gets to feel wrong every day and not know why.”

Clint cradled his broken left hand in his right and stood with a wince. “You don’t even like yourself like this!” he argued.

“I hit a wall, Clint,” she growled through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t deal with fighting myself anymore. Since Sokovia I’ve been trying to convince myself that this isn’t who I am, that remembering wouldn’t change me, but it did. I changed...and when I woke up, when Loki said those words, everything clicked. Who I really am flooded into me...so I let myself finally drown.”

“What, you’re tired so you just stop fighting? What happened to the strong woman I wanted to marry?” Clint snapped.

“She died in Africa,” Cassie snapped, looking from Natasha to Clint to the barn door to the hayloft. “About the time she killed a warlord and threatened to drown a little boy in the blood of his friends.” She bent her knees and vaulted herself over Natasha, landing on the ladder before jumping to the loft. “I can’t let you take me back, sorry.” She started toward the hayloft door but stopped in her tracks when an arrow hit her right thigh.

“Barney! What the fuck? You shot my-” Clint yelled as Cassie pulled the arrow from the soft flesh of her leg.

She turned and flung the arrow at the tall ginger man, who grabbed the arrow from the air. “What? You can’t shoot her so I did.”

“Barney Barton! Nice to finally meet you!” she said with sarcastic enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I can’t stick around. You understand, I’m sure,” she said before jumping out the loft door.

Barney handed the arrow shaft to Clint’s good hand. “Great taste in women, bro.”

“That wasn’t Cassie,” Clint defended as Barney walked out the door. He threw the tracer-arrow shaft to the ground and followed.

“Yes, it was,” Natasha said, pulling up a map on her tablet and watching the retreating dot.

“How can you say that, Nat? You know Cass. You know she’s not-”

“Clint, I know what you wanna hear, but I can’t say it.” Natasha shrugged. “She was one person with those memories gone, but she is someone different when she has them.”

“Yeah, okay, but...you remember your-”

“And I fought to become someone better than what they made me in the Red Room,” she interrupted, following the Bartons across the field to the farmhouse. “Cassie doesn’t wanna fight so unless we can get her to Coulson to get those memories erased, your fiancee is gone.”

“Do you even want her back, Clint? Bitch just broke your hand.” Barney threw the bow on the porch swing as he walked through the door. “I mean, even if you got her back to being...what’s her name? ‘Red Queen’. Even if you get rid of the homicidal tendencies the Nazis gave her, she tried to kill you. It’s gonna change how you see her, how all of you treat her.”

“And we won’t be able to tell her why,” Natasha added.

“What does that matter? How many times have you tried to kill me, Barn? Nat was trying to kill me when we met!” Clint exploded.

“Different,” Barney said, pulling a beer out of the fridge with one hand and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer with the other. “This is the chick you said hadn’t ever killed anyone, right? That actively avoided doing more than incapacitating the bad guys, ‘cause her dad was a huge dick?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Now we all know that’s not true, don’t we?”

“You don’t seem too surprised by that, Natasha,” Clint said suspiciously as he put the ice pack over the back of his hand.

“I read the file. The Projekt Kind file. I knew she killed the agents in ‘99 before she did,” Natasha said, sighing as the signal on the tracer dulled. “She’s blocking the transmitter.”

“She’s a scientist,” Clint growled. “I coulda told you a tracker wasn’t going to work.”

“Shut up, man. I had to try something.” Barney popped open his beer and took a drink. “At least you know which direction was heading and she’ll have to pull whatever’s dampening it eventually to cut out the chip.”

“If we even want to find her,” Natasha reiterated.

“Of course we do! What kind of-”

“Exactly what memories do we take, Clint?” Nat asked, calmly. “Just her childhood or do we take her memories of the things that made her start remembering? Do we take away Loki’s second attack? Do we take Austria? What about Wanda? Where do we stop?”

“Wherever we need to to get her back!” Clint’s hand reflexively started to clench, causing him to hiss in pain.

“But if we take everything, she’ll barely know you. She’ll still be terrified of Steve. She will be drowning in a bottle of whiskey and pining for Phil, who kinda still loves her and is currently very unattached.”

“Coulson wouldn’t.”

Natasha shrugged. “Man’s lonely. His last girlfriend was shot and bled out in his arms. He might.”

“And she’d have no memory of playing Avenger with you,” Barney said from behind his beer can.

“Why don’t you just turn the new Cassie?” Laura suggested as she entered the kitchen and all eyes fell on her. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to listen in, but Cassie’s a friend.”

“It’s not that simple, Lore. She’s gone over to Hydra. It’s not like we can just convince her to come be an Avenger again.”

“Also, Avengers are less a thing now,” Natasha finished.

“She loves you, Clint. You know she does.”

“She woulda been really sad about killing you, right?” Barney set the can on the counter and turned to his wife. “She may not be fixable.”

“But...you just bring her in, help her,” Laura argued. “She doesn’t have to be bad just because she was made to do some things when she was Hydra...right?”

Clint looked between Barney and Natasha. He sighed loudly as he heard the sound of a Quinjet landing in the yard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[beingpassionateabout]

I'll follow you into the dark

A/N: This was inspired by the last addition to this post, especially this part: “Anna's mindset is always "If we are together, I can protect her." This drives her actions. Elsa's mindset is always "If I am alone, I can protect her." And this drives her actions. Anna's is protection by action (i.e. she would probably physically pull Elsa away from the abyss in Ahtohallan so Elsa can't go too far. If Anna herself dies, no problem. Just protect Elsa). Elsa's is protection by prevention (i.e. taking Anna out of the equation will categorically prevent harm from coming to her. If Elsa herself dies, no problem. Just protect Anna). Both attitudes are badass (in one sense of the word) because they are both self-sacrificial. I don't see either one as selfish personally, just manifestations of their different protective natures.” 

So that got me thinking, what if they reconciled their natures before Elsa parted to the Dark Seas? 

Summary: Elsa and Anna try to work things out at the shipwreck site. 

Canon-compliant until that point. Any and all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Frozen, but I so desperatly wish I did.

It should not have been like this. Their parents, lost at sea, because of her, because of her powers. How much more tragedy can she bring upon her family? How much more pain, more suffering?

She feels Anna running up the hill to catch her and that makes her feel even worse. 'Not now, Anna', she wants to say, but while receiving her sister's comfort hurts, denying it would hurt her even more. And it would hurt Anna too. She's tired of hurting everyone, least of all Anna. So she accepts the embrace she's pulled in, tries to draw comfort from the warmth scent of the only person she loves more than anything or anyone.  

Anna tells her words of comfort but her mind barely registers them. In any other occasion her rational side would find reason with it, would be able to focus on it to get whatever needs to be done, done. As it is now, the weight of the revelation of their parent's fate only presses down on her, pulling her under the tides of emotions she has not felt in years. Her straining focus manifests itself on her closed off stance, arms pulled taught against her ribs, her sight trained on her sisters' moving lips but only registering a few words she's saying. This inner turmoil she knows well, but she still fights it. Anna is speaking. Anna is demanding attention. And attention she will get from Elsa.

"Please Elsa, I can't lose you" and with those words Anna manages to shake her out of her stupor.

"I can't lose you either, Anna". So she crumbles. And hugs her sister tight to her body, trying to convey how troubled she feels, how shaky she feels, but still, how much she would give to not live another day with the threat of losing Anna over her head. Or losing the family they made for themselves.

At that, she opens her eyes and looks over at Olaf, who has also made his way up the hill and to his "mothers", as he likes to call them. She beckons him close and he comes willingly, wrapping his short arms as tight and as far as he can around them. She sighs in relief, leaning further into Anna and feeling her tighten her arms in return.

Still, there is much that needs to be done, Elsa recognizes. A new set of problems arise now that they know where they have to go next in order to follow the call and learn the truth about their family's past. The truth that will save Arendelle, that will save the Northuldra people. Crossing the Dark Seas to Ahtohallan is something only she can hope to do, judging by the state of their parent's ship. The waters too violent and too dangerous to risk losing Anna over. So Elsa steels her resolve and draws gently away from the embrace, grabbing Anna's hands in the process and looking into her eyes.

"I know I promised we'd do this together and I've been trying to stick to this promise but it's proving itself difficult with every new danger we face".

Anna looks taken aback. "What do you mean? We've done great so far! No one has gotten hurt!".

"I know Anna, but there has been pretty close calls, don't you think?"

"If you're talking about the fire incident, then you should know that I'll stand by your side no matter what!".

She did not expect anything else from her brave knight, but Elsa needs to make her understand her point. So she presses on.

"This worries me, Anna. What if next time I can't protect you? You know the Dark Sea is a dangerous place"

"And that's supposed to make me feel better letting you go there? What if you don't come back?"

"But what if you don't come back?" she notices Anna pausing at that, closing her eyes momentarily and taking a deep breath. Elsa completes, "You know that between the two of us the chances of survival are stacked on my side".

Anna stammers and seems to lose her footing in this argument. "I- I know what you're asking of me right now, but it's just really painful and difficult to think you might face this alone, Elsa."

"I just need to know that you trust me to do the right thing and to come back to you, Anna"

"I do trust you!" Anna protests. "With all my being".

"Then let me do it, please. Let me go to Ahtohallan."

Anna stares at her for a few seconds, anxiousness and sorrow flashing behind her blue eyes. Her mouth works once, twice, but nothing comes out and Elsa waits, knowing she has to let Anna work it out for herself. It's the least she can do.

A moment passes. Anna takes her hands out of Elsa's hold, paces around, takes deep breaths. And then she's back in front of Elsa, resolve in her eyes.

"I hope you know that if you don't come back I'm gonna chase you to the ends of this earth, myself and I won't tire until I find you" come out of her lips with more heat than anticipated.

That makes Elsa chuckle and she notices Anna lets out an amused breath too. Of all the things bearing down on her, Anna's threat feel more like a caress on her soul. She takes one of Anna's hands again, while noticing how Anna's other hand just grips her satchel strap tighter.  

"You won't have to."

"Good. That's really good." Anna sighs, her eyes now boring into Elsa's. "You should go there. Find the answers. Make me proud. And come back."

Elsa's shoulders sag in relief.

"I will, I promise."

Hearing that, Anna slowly closes her eyes, lets out another heavy sigh and then disentangles her hand from Elsa's hold. Elsa watches as Anna reaches for her left wrist, right under her long sleeve and pulls out a shiny bracelet. One of Elsa's gifts to her 19th birthday. One she has not stopped wearing ever since.

"I've never been superstitious in my life. But this is a time of need and I need to believe in you and I need to calm myself down enough to let you go, so... take this". Anna fastens the bracelet on Elsa's pulse, tucks it firmly under Elsa's blue sleeve. "Okay, now you're protected. I'm protecting you from a distance. You may go".

Elsa feels herself tearing up, unable to process this wave of warmth engulfing her. So she does the next best thing and just hugs Anna again, kissing the side of her head over red strands of hair. "Thank you".

She feels more than sees Anna nodding against her shoulder. She then turns to Olaf, who's been quietly watching them with an anxious expression, his twig hands clasped. "Come here, boy".

He makes his way over to her and so she kneels in front of him to hug him too. "I'll come back to both of you".

"Safe journey, Elsa" Olaf tells her, his expression softening.

She nods at him, gets up and turns to Anna, squeezes her hand once more. Then Anna watches as Elsa clasps her hands together, closes her eyes and concentrates for a few moments. When she opens up her hold, a small snowy bird emerges and takes flight, landing itself on Anna's head.

Anna is amazed yet again at her sister's powers.

"It'll lead you both back to camp. Just follow it down the path, okay?" Elsa tells her.

"And then what happens to it, when we get there?"

"It'll stay with you. So you are protected too."

The weight of those words leaves Anna breathless, and she tries valiantly to stop the tears from coming. She sees it now. She sees how Elsa wants her protected too. Elsa loves her just as fiercely and is not pushing her away, she’s not leaving her. So it should make it a bit easier to wait for her to come back.

 When she manages to steady her voice all that comes up is "Okay. Together?".

“Together”.

She can only watch as Elsa turns her back to them and sprints down to the black shores, and on to the Unknown that holds one of Elsa's most dangerous tasks yet.

[raayllum]

made this same post on my main but reposting & putting it under read more here bc 1) it’s relevant and 2) is a vent post and 3) discusses some possibly triggering content

exclusionists: you can’t be asexual bc that means ur sexualizing everyone else!! like minors!! they don’t need comprehensive sex ed or have any sexual thoughts, ur just projecting it onto them, you dirty sinner. nevermind that teens understanding their own bodies is literally natural in plenty of other places in the world and as a human being and has been proven to considerably lower cases of unreported csa and other forms of emotional distress or abuse. ur just lying that you’re 16 and ace, or a gross adult trying to force sexuality onto kids, eww! all people who aren’t us are predators!

terfs: you can’t support teens exploring their gender identity!! ur going to trick young girls into hating their bodies and let grown men into our spaces!! trans adults are just predators!! sex work and porn is also Bad bc uhh trans women do them insert something about q-slur here! i know hating trans ppl seems really extreme but it’s just like how aspec people invade lg+ spaces!! all people who aren’t us are predators!

antis: you can’t write teenaged characters having loving relationships that include sex, no matter how much you age them up to their 20s or 30s!! they’re frozen at that age silly, teens don’t have any sexual thoughts, ur just projecting it onto them, you dirty sinner. no you can’t hc teenagers or early 20 somethings as asexual either. ur just lying that you’re 16 and ace, or a gross adult trying to force sexuality onto kids, eww! all people who aren’t us are predators!

me, a trans ace nb who just wants to ship and post my appropriately tagged shit peacefully, and has held my “not an anti” stance since i was 13:

[starberry-cupcake]

It’s the end of Aro Week and I decided to throw caution to the wind and talk about something that can potentially be a polarizing topic. I’m putting it on read-more not only because of length but also because in 2020 this blog turns 10 years of age and I’ve learned to leave a window open for retreat when it comes to Opinions, so I don’t know how long I’ll dare to have this up. 

This is going to be about the aroace experience, fandom, ships, representation, fanservice, amatonormativity, allosexual normativity and transformative fanwork. 

So, basically, a minefield, so tread with care. 

Since the dawn of fandom time, there has been an aspect of it that is known (nowadays) as transformative. There are studies, dissertations and essays about this, and most if not all agree on the fact that the portion of fandom that is transformative tends to belong to the less represented portion of it in the media they consume. 

It’s mostly people whose identities are rarely represented those who tend to transform, making a space in their favorite pieces of media for themselves and others. That has, in tow, created a scene in which authors and content creators are born within fandom and get exposed to these types of content and reproduce them as well.

The cornerstone of transformative fandom, to the point of being one of the main organizational elements in fandom-driven platforms, are ships. And when someone mentions the word “ship”, it most often comes with the added non-said descriptive of “romantic” and “sexual” attached to it. 

Now, like I said, a lot of those who are involved in transformative fandom tend to go for less represented types of identities, and heteronormativity tends to be questioned often. Sometimes, it is legitimately for representation purposes, sometimes it’s for objectifying reasons. 

On the other hand, in the media-creating sphere, there is a thing known as “baiting”. This word is used when pieces of media hint towards non het relationships that end up not coming to fruition. 

This issue has reached paragons of shamelessness with creators using fandom for their own purposes, like making a series win an award, getting renewed or gathering numbers in cons, to then turn against the same portion of fandom by banning transformative fandom from cons, meet and greets and having actors and crew members publicly shame fanfiction or fanart. It became serious shit. 

This, in tow, brought another problem. Baiting (and what used to be considered “queer-coding”) started becoming an immediate red flag for people, a warning to whether getting engaged or not with a piece of media. 

In the mostly legitimate pitchfork and torches march against baiting, canonically aroace characters were caught in the fire, and queerplatonic relationships suffered the price of not fitting in the amatonormative and allosexual normative space fandom created. 

It’s a standard for fandom that one of the most necessary reasons for transformative work, for fanfiction mostly, is to make characters confess the love they never did confess on screen/page and, most often than not, fuck each other senseless as a sort of “necessary guarantee of their bond”. Consummation, if you will. 

Statistically speaking, explicit fics tend to be much more popular than non explicit ones and romantic relationships are what move the main search engines of fanfic platforms. 

Headcanon-wise, anyone can do what they want. If a character is interpreted one way or another, that’s not for anyone to police. 

With aroace characters, though, it’s a bit tricky, because it’s incredibly rare the amount of times a character is explicitly in the spectrum, and any evidence you can gather, which isn’t outright hearing it, is a lack of something. 

A lack that fandom interprets in another way. 

You can have a character be sexually attracted and romantically attracted to another and have that be enough for an audience to understand their orientation, to an extent, but an aroace character seems to have to explicitly state it because the lack of romance or sex in their narratives will be interpreted by fandom as “incomplete”. 

It’s more frequent for fandom to interpret a character who is not in a romantic or sexual relationship as “lacking” it and “fix” it in fic than for it to be headcanoned as aroace. 

An adjacent issue happens with this and the old notion of “queer-coding”. Audiences tend to sometimes interpret that lack as the incapacity for a media creator to explicitly state that the character is homosexual. 

The unintended consequence of years of coding, baiting and censorship of non het relationships in media was the invisibilization of relationships canonically in the aroace spectrum. 

For example, the first reaction to Elsa from Frozen not having a romantic relationship in the movie was that she was an amatonormative and allosexual lesbian rather than somewhere in the aroace spectrum. Not that there aren’t a myriad of overlaying possibilities between the two things, but you get my point. 

The lacking, the incompleteness that fandom most often sees in characters is filled in, most often than not, with gay romantic and sexual relationships, as a result of the years of queer-coding in media. You know, the good ol’ “if she doesn’t have a boyfriend, she must be a lesbian” stance. Fandom is, sometimes, like a family dinner with a 60+ year old uncle. 

This is a problem because it creates, within fandom, instances of tug of war between two under-represented factions who both deserve the due representation and which sometimes, very often, overlay in the same people, who fall in both spectrums. It creates arguments and fights for one or other character between the two, as if they were mutually exclusive at all times.  

I recently came across different levels of discourse and comments on two pieces of media for this reason, in two different sides. 

One concerned Mackenzi Lee’s A Lady’s Guide To Petticoats & Piracy, in which the lead is aroace and there is a girl who is romantically attracted to her and there is a hint of a potential qp relationship. After reading it I found in some review spaces opinions that considered the author hadn’t “gone all the way” with it, as if it was “cop out” for a potential lesbian romance, taking into account that the first volume of the series was centered on an mlm relationship, which gave people certain expectations.

The opposite happened in the webcomic Go Get A Roomie, in which a female lead character who seemed to be aroace for years ended up in a romantic and sexual relationship with the protagonist and there isn’t so far much of a descriptive of where her identity lied to begin with, but with some meaningful conversations that seemed to imply the spectrum after having suffered trauma. And this can be perceived as a sort of “deception” and to the problematic notion of aroace-ness as a “treatable phase”. 

Both stories are valid. Both roads towards self-discovery are valid. There isn’t an immediate denial of the spectrum for one or other possibility and both narratives are experiences that happen to people, even maybe the same people at different times in their lives. 

But the two happen to include female relationships and boy are those underrepresented. Like I said, it isn’t that both things can’t overlay in a myriad of places, Lillian could be a demisexual demiromantic, for all I know, Sim could be homoromantic and asexual, we don’t know the specifics. 

It’s likely and valid to have a gut reaction when you think you’re being represented and then you’re not entirely. And that’s understandable. But it’s a pity that we have tugs of war for scraps of representation. 

So, on the one hand, with headcanons, we tend to get fandom fights, most often than not between underrepresented identities, because we’re fighting for the little there is, when in reality we should be uplifting each other...but anyway, moving on. 

That’s all in the realm of interpretation, up until the moment the author makes the characters explicitly make choices and take action. That’s someone having a headcanon because of things the piece of media was doing and then having it proven right or wrong, or never having it proved at all. 

The other thing, where it gets nasty, is when fandom “fixes” canonically aroace characters. This is also incredibly frequent, most often than not with mlm ships, or what fandom considers mlm ships. 

One of the nastiest last year was the Good Omens debacle. 

Neil stated that Aziraphale and Crowley weren’t “homosexual men” because they weren’t “men” and they weren’t sexual beings (the whole “making an effort” thing that explicit fic writers like to latch onto). Neil also said they love each other, however that wants to be interpreted, opening it up enough for it to be platonic or romantic or anything you want. 

Fic writers have written more GO fics in the last year than ever probably, because of the show, and they’ve experimented with a lot of places of the spectrum. I’m not here to judge anyone because a GO fic was my favorite ace explicit fic I’ve read, so interpretations can be fascinating, I’m all here for them.  

The problem arose when people (mostly cis het women) on social media (mostly twitter) started calling Neil a homophobe for not making them pretty much fuck on screen or explicitly state that they were fucking offscreen in canon. 

That’s where we need to draw a line and reevaluate our life choices. 

I can’t count the amount of posts, tweets and reactions I saw rejecting the possibility of Aziraphale and Crowley not being a) cis men and b) allosexual. The two things created a gutted reaction, to the point that you have to consider the nature and intended result of those comments and, in that case, who’s being an intolerant asshole. 

There was a point in time in which fake woke rep discourse became the excuse for people to demand fanservice from creators, especially in the cis het women + mlm media overlay, and this is a problem. We need to separate the discourses, we need to figure out why we’re here and what we’re demanding. 

Another similar example I saw recently, yet less overwhelming, was with Banana Fish and the queerplatonic relationship between Ash and Eiji in canon. 

I came into BF later than most, but when I read the epilogue manga I found one of the earliest descriptions of a qp relationship I’ve seen, and there were a lot of interesting comments made by the author and other people interviewing her about why sex was never a part of their dynamic and how the bond they had was more of soulmates than romantic lovers and why it was meaningful all the same. 

Still, even if the author doesn’t, Banana Fish is considered among the key “BL” animated series of the last few years, alongside stuff like Doukyuusei, Yuri On Ice, Given, etc. And fandom likes to “fix” that “lack of” situation often, apparently. 

This case isn’t as feral as GO but it is, however, deceptive. Coming into BF I never would have guessed their relationship was to be qp because fandom let me believe it wasn’t. 

And, in this case, the author explicitly stated that this was her intention, this was the story she wanted to tell, it wasn’t her adjusting to censorship or having to code her characters, it was, at heart, what we now can consider a qp relationship. 

And, in all of these cases, in which there are aroace characters or relationships involved, or at least somewhere in the aro spectrum or the ace spectrum or both, there’s one main issue behind it: the lack of belief that relationships that aren’t romantic and sexual can be crucial. 

That they can be storytelling worthy.  

In media-creating and in fanwork-creating, it seems to be the norm to have an endgame romance, or at least for romance to be a key part of your content. It’s the expected box to tick for a fulfilling story, it seems, and the lack of it is the “problem” fandom likes to “fix” the most. 

This is also mirrored in the platforms we use. There is a lack of possibility to tag qp relationships as something separated in ao3: the / is for romantic/sexual relationships and the & is for all-encompassing platonic relationships (described by the guidelines as family, teammates, friends, etc.). In order to write a qp relationship you have to tag it & as per guidelines but you have to add another descriptor because you’re not writing family or teammates, and in the case of fandom-polarizing ships, it can be a problem. 

And all of this influences us as creators, to the point that it’s easier to write something we’ve never experienced, like romantic attraction, than it is to write without it, because we’ve heard the romantic stories all the time, we’ve grown up reading them, and we’ve learned that no kudos will come to your fic if you don’t have them in there, because it’s that / what’s gonna move the search engines towards your stuff. 

Maybe, hopefully, with time and more media around us, we’ll learn different ways of exploring transformative fanwork. Maybe while knowing ourselves and others, we’ll start believing that a lack of romantic relationships doesn’t necessarily mean someone was “too much of a coward to not make these two explicitly x or y”. 

Maybe we’ll learn to coexist because, after all, some of these things coexist within our own spectrums sometimes, and it’d be nice to see the capacity for us to not fight for the scraps of rep that media throws at us but be able to understand each other and ourselves enough to create the media that we need. 

[crqstalite]

34 glancing at lips (dealer’s choice on ship)

yet again, another one that got away from me. focuses a tad bit more on alistair/svenja but there is a few mentions of that prompt near the end! the line is used :,D mostly the rose conversation.

ship: alistair theirin/svenja tabris word count: 3,024

-

shems are such odd creatures -- sure they were closer to being elves than dwarves or qunari were, but they tended to be bulkier, taller, and all around not nearly as bright or dexterous.

that wasn’t to say there weren’t ones that were, (morrigan and leliana specifically) but svenja is concerned (or should she say worried for the state of thedas would them in charge?) she may never fully grasp exactly how one thinks. or what one wants.

well, she tries to at least. from their travels she’s learned they like shiny objects (lots of jewelry for the ‘witch of the wilds’. svenja doesn’t understand that either), books of all shapes and sizes (wynne seems to like them, especially the ones about magic) and religious trinkets (leliana seems to adore andrastian figurines -- as a cloistered sister, svenja thinks she gets that one...except she’s never set foot in a chantry before redcliffe. nor is she sure what a cloister is, she’d have to ask.).

and sometimes, it seemed, was a mix of all three. why alistair liked the statues she found was unclear, that and the two runestones she’d found more recently. the jewelry this time made sense, once she’d taken a moment to think of the significance behind it when she’d found it in redcliffe castle. it meant a lot to him, and instead of the disgust at such an emotional response that she’d usually have, she instead felt some semblance of...happy? feeling like she’d done something good for this odd human when he’d smiled so. svenja had flustered and retreated to her tent as quickly as she could after that.

that kept her up at night as well.

svenja genuinely wondered if all shems were like this -- people who liked all sorts of odd things. that wasn’t to say she wouldn’t jump at the chance to acquire some sword and repurpose it for later usage, but it seemed every little shiny trinket the shems would happily say they’d treasure at a chance to take it. even she didn’t do that when she got better than meager gifts from shianni.

except...she’s not beginning to mind it as much as she used to. with morrigan at least, she’s almost surprised to see such a warm smile cross her expression after she’d found a mirror just like the one she’d lost as a child. and alistair...

alistair’s eyes are still roaming the white runestone that she’d picked up days ago hours later, or so she thinks with his big bulky back turned to her. the fire is still just barely crackling, throwing shadows around the camp while she stokes it. it couldn’t have meant that much to him, could it? really he should’ve just given it to sandal to enchant into his blade if he really liked it so much.

she doesn’t know what persuaded her to stay up for watch alongside him. maybe it’s the fact the darkspawn are starting to get bolder around the borders of the campsite, especially after she assigned at least two of her party to stay awake for watch instead of just one (a rookie mistake, one she wouldn’t make again when they’d all been woken from a pack of blight wolves roaming in the distance, too close for comfort in her book).

for some other reason, one that boggles her mind even now, she wanted the post with alistair.

this shem -- human (if she were to be nice about it, and it’d taken quite a while to get to that point) had piqued her interest long ago by now. how he managed to be just this carefree and humorous in the middle of a blight, she wasn’t sure. she didn’t know how to explain it, and a part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to. all svenja knew was that somehow, he set butterflies in her chest whenever he was around, and that was just one of the things that bothered her most. he had no right acting like they were friends directly after ostagar, and yet he stayed friendly as much as she tried to give him a freezing cold shoulder.

he was not deterred. managed to chip away at her frozen exterior until he had the audacity to call her beautiful of all things.

of all things.

her.

beautiful?

svenja tabris, little more than a city elf with a tendency to stab what she didn’t like instead of talking and spent the rest of the evening beating back the nausea caused by her anxiety with a sword into the tree further on the border of camp.

the only person who’d ever called her beautiful before...well that was her mother. and cyrion on occasion. this? this was new territory right her, someone she didn’t share even a drop of blood with thought she was beautiful.

the word feels weird on her tongue.

they’d spoken more than once before (a lot of the time she spent in camp was by herself in the beginning, but somehow she’d started to gravitate toward alistair), and it has always been pleasant, even the day prior hadn’t been.

how can he even do that?

sighing, she eventually puts the stick she’d been using down next to the fire, dragging her bare feet against the ground as not to spook her watch partner. it’d happened once before, and while mildly amusing, she felt a need not to do it again. her mouth dries when he turns to her, the words dying in her throat. she was going to mention that they needed to switch out with morrigan and sten and some point, right.

at least she thinks so, up until she glances up to his own rattled expression.

“here, look at this. do you know what this is?” he asks, his voice barely loud enough to carry over the crackling of the fire and the other weird sounds of the night. svenja raises an eyebrow, then descends her gaze towards his hand, where he holds out a bloomed rose. a deep, luscious red comparable to that of the lip paint shems liked to wear, nearly blood if she were to guess. and yet...it had a sense of beauty to it.

“is...this a trick question?” she asks, confused, watching his face for any hidden expression of amusement at her expense. did he really think she received such little education in the alienage that she wouldn’t be able to identify a basic flora of fereldan?

(maybe he was half right. wynne had to teach her the difference between elfroot and deathroot. it wasn’t her fault they looked deceptively similar. she wasn’t about to tell him that though.)

“yes, absolutely. i’m trying to trick you. is it working? aw, i just about had you, didn’t i?” he asks, chuckling when a grin spreads across his expression. a beat and then her brain catches up, he was jestering her, pulling her leg. probably made more evident by his tone, as she allows herself to smile -- not without a roll of her eyes, of course.

“oh yes...you’re...a wily one.” she responds, unsure of herself. is her smile weird? she’s never known quite what to do when presented with such a joke.

“nefarious, even.” his smile only grows wider, a genuine laugh following it. except, she doesn’t feel like he’s laughing at her. maybe with her.

damn shem, making her feel all nervous again.

“i picked it in lothering.” he thumbs one of the petals, the corners of his lips quirked upwards as she focuses anywhere else but his eyes, “i remember thinking ‘how could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?’“

there’s the smallest scar just underneath his lip, she notices.

she’d never had reason to before, but she does now.

“i probably should’ve left it alone, but i couldn’t. the darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. so i’ve had it ever since.” he says, shifting his stance again.

he radiates nervous energy and it’s infecting her in a way that her hands are shaking. eventually she just crosses her arms to keep them from being too obvious.

it’s a an interesting way to look at a rose of all things, she’ll give him that. even if she doesn’t entirely understand why he’s telling her this, nor does she understand how he managed to keep it alive for so long (or maybe it hasn’t been that long and all the days are beginning to blend together, travelling isn’t her favorite thing to do). does he want another hug?  

“that’s a nice sentiment, alistair.” she responds, nearly tripping over her own words.

he takes a breath, biting his bottom lip, “i thought that i might...give it to you actually. in a lot of ways, i think the same thing when i look at you.”

she barely realizes that he’d intended to give it to her.

that and he thought she was beautiful. again. and admitted it out loud.

well, indirectly.

but still...beautiful all over again.

blood rushes to her ears, and she can already feel them gently twitching against her skull. svenja is struggling not to let her true colors show when she eventually gently plucks it out of his hand with her own shaking fingers, careful of the thorns but immediately enamored with the color.

this is odd, no one has ever gifted her something. not since her mother gave her the sword she treasures to this day. and yet, she’s received something else. her father had once given her mother roses, but she doesn’t ever remember them being so...meaningful before. they’d been prickly things to take care of, and rather finnicky considering there wasn’t the necessary water to really garden in the alienage.

she’s still captivated by it’s beauty.

she looks back up at him with a critical eye. the explanation behind the gifting grates on her nerves,  “you...think of me as a delicate flower?”

“a gentle flower? no, i...don’t think i’d put it that way.” he seems sheepish when she brushes a finger over the flower’s center. good to know he didn’t think of her as incapable of protecting herself or otherwise, “i guess it’s a bit silly, isn’t it? I just thought...here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven’t exactly been having a good time of it yourself.

“you’ve had none of the good experiences of being a grey warden since your joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. it’s all been death and fighting and tragedy,” he explains, “i thought maybe i could say something. tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are amidst all this...darkness.”

svenja reads him as a bashful, flustered even just trying to keep from making a fool of himself. she’s not sure what to make of it (as if she isn’t also sure that her own face has been colored red), “so because of all that, you gifted me with a flower?”

“i guess it was, uh, just a stupid impulse,” he pauses again, and she bites her tongue. of course she’d say something to make him feel bad, and it wasn’t even her intention. the gesture was kind, but it’s taking much too long for her brain to catch up that he cares about her enough to give her something so...special.

“i don’t know, was it the wrong one?” svenja finally forces herself to look him in the eye when he asks, so nervous and waiting for her reaction. how does she even respond to that? was it the wrong one? no, she doesn’t think so. in fact she’ll probably treasure this for a long while, at least until it dies inevitably.

she hates this, why does a flower and a single shem able to reduce her to a stuttering mess? damn humans, this one especially. she resists the urge to cover her face with her hands and running.

fighting darkspawn was much less emotionally tolling than this...declaration of admiration. people didn’t usually actually...care about what she thought of them. and they definitely didn’t go out of their way to give her flowers.

why has she suddenly lost every shred of confidence she had?

“no. no it wasn’t.” she’s blunter than she intended, silently reprimanding herself and accidentally pressing her thumb into a thorn, “thank you, alistair. this was very kind of you.”

“i’m glad you like it,” his demeanor changes immediately, a smile sure enough to warm the entire camp if that was it’s intention, “now...if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, i’d appreciate it.”

nothing comes out of her mouth as her face heats, losing just about every active thought that had been racing around her head like a wolf after it’s prey. that, she had not expected. she blusters and her voice cracks, “what?”

he seems just as startled, if not moreso by her reaction, “or not! or not, and we can just have the fluffy bits instead.”

there’s a long pause then, neither of them terribly sure what to say next. she could spend all night staring at this thing without even acknowledging anything else until morning.

it’s pretty.

like...her.

she glances up at his lips, that same small scar she had noticed earlier. she blinks, however no hesitation precedes her question against her better judgement, “can i kiss you?”

this time it’s his turn to stutter, “you...you want to-”

“if you’d rather i not, i wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable alistair,” she hears shifting somewhere out in the woods, in the darkness that the fire’s light can’t touch. her head is spinning -- she’s...genuinely happy for once, but also beyond rather embarrassed she’d suggested such a thing -- and all her senses are calling for her fight or flight response to snap up, mostly flight.

“i--” he’s mulling it over, she can see it in his face as he rubs the back of his neck. maker she didn’t know shems’ faces could even get that red, and if he thinks about it long enough, well, that’ll give her plenty of time to accept she’s about to get rejected.

his voice lowers to a whisper that she can just barely hear over the fire, “if you wish.”

oh.

oh she didn’t expect him to actually accept her foolish request.

one could probably compare her brains pace to both racing along a track and also halting immediately upon acception.

i’ve never actually kissed anyone before.

only now does her hesitation show itself, nearly paralyzing her before she forces herself to take a step forward without a second thought. maker, she’d also happened to forget just how tall he was.

the corners of his lips quirk into a nervous smile. how tightly her body is wound, like the ropes on a ship pulled taut -- except she feels like she’s about to snap. svenja isn’t the most cautious person, only proven by just how much she feels like legs are about to give out as soon as she lifts herself on her toes.

she’s more embarrassed that alistair has to lean down anyways.

she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but it wasn’t that she’d nearly smack her forehead against his. she wasn’t intending to knock him out, but tries to pull on every memory she could in her nineteen very short years of life.

one small tilt of her head.

svenja is not the best with words, nor is she good at describing things. it is terribly short, just a peck of her lips on his but?

but maybe she wants another. at another time, maybe now. so she takes another. nothing about her is relaxed (no, something is about to snap if she doesn’t go back to her bedroll as in now, and her bare hand is clutching that poor rose -- she’d need to put a bandage over it at some point), but she’s also ecstatic.

ecstatic was too strong a word. content? maybe even merry.

she does pull away only a moment later, trying to ignore the glee that’s written itself all over alistair’s face. she doesn’t hear a word he says while he’s looking out towards the rest of the small camp, and she’s has to ask for clarification after she gently touches her lips.

she.

had just kissed someone.

“i was saying that it’s getting sort of late, morrigan and sten should be woken to watch over the camp, right?” he’s tripping over his words all over again, as if a representation of how she feels inside. a hurricane of emotions ripping around her, all of which boil down to nervous energy.

“i...yes. we should. i’ll wake her,” she doesn’t particularly want to leave, but realizes she’d long left the fire to die down to a few flames, “alistair?”

“yes?” he asks, just a tad startled.

she glances first down to the rose (yep, punctured in a few places), and then up at him. for whatever reason, her eyes drop to his lips again.

she wonders -- no.

oh no.

“thank you. for the rose,” she whispers, “and...the kiss.”

“oh! of course, i--uh don’t...be afraid to ask?” his tone turns it into a question.

svenja is only able to nod before she makes more of a fool of herself than she already had, scurrying off towards morrigan’s small alcove further out on the edges of the clearing. she’s only able to mumble off a few words (three of which being ‘sten. watch. now.’) before sliding herself back into her own tent, heart throbbing like a drum beneath her chest.

what was wrong with her? no self-respecting city elf would’ve fallen in love with a shem, there’s no way.

(but? alistair was different. she thinks. wait. his ears are slightly pointed, maybe he’s a different kind of shem.)

placing the rose down carefully next to her bedroll, she pulls her makeshift pillow off the bed and screams into it.

(she makes it off to a begrudging sleep)

shems may not have been the brightest or most dexterous, but they were okay at giving gifts. a little too okay in her opinion.

[craftyshipper]

Fire In The Hole

Hi guys! I've been a little quiet on the writing lately but I promise I'm still working on my current stories, I've just been a busy bee with other personal things.

But here is my piece that I did for the todomomorisingzine! We're finally able to post them and I hope you enjoy it!

Also, the zine team has a survey to potentially re-open the store to clear out the remaining stock, so if you're interested please visit @todomomorisingzine and click their survey link. :)

Anyway, enjoy!

_________

"All hands on deck!" 

An explosion sent the boat rocking, nearly forcing Momo to her knees as wood splintered around her. Cringing at the sight of broken parts of her ship, she sprung back into action, drawing her sword as three men armed with weapons of their own surrounded her. 

"Look at this lass playing pirate." The one with rotted teeth and shaggy brown hair grinned while his companions laughed. 

Momo smirked and reached up to remove the hat from her head and tossed it aside, leaving only a bandana to cover the crown of her head. She tucked a stray black braid behind her ear and faced the men, her black locks swaying in the sea breeze. 

"You know," She began, moving into a fighting stance, "mangy water rats like you shouldn't judge a pirate by her gender." Momo smiled when that seemed to strike a nerve in, who she guessed, was the leader. 

"Get her!" 

Quickly sidestepping, she put out her booted foot, easily tripping the first attacker before swiveling on her heel to catch the punch aimed at her head. Twisting her body, which forced the man to fall in her direction, she swiftly slammed her elbow into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. 

"Ye wench!" The third assailant snarled in her direction. 

The smile that played across his lips made Momo frown. She spun on her foot as a fourth pirate slammed a knee into her stomach making her pitch forward but the man behind her snatched one of the braids in her hair and yanked hard sending pain along her scalp. 

A cry of pain escaped her as she reached up to tug at the man's wrist, attempting to release his grip on her hair. 

"Momo!" The call came from one of her crewmates, Jirou, who was trapped in a fight with two opponents of her own. She just hoped the other four females of her crew were doing alright as well. Their crew was made up of all females and there were only six of them in total while the ship was easily being attacked by a dozen or more pirates. 

"Let go!" Momo's tone, which was laced with pain, made the male smile even wider. 

"Come now little lass." The laughter in his voice didn't go unnoticed by her. "Your future husband awaits ye." 

"I'll never marry that bilge rat!" 

"Be respectful, he's paying a lot of money to get ye back." He grinned. "Ye should be grateful he cares-" 

The pirate’s words were cut off as a booted foot slammed into his head, forcing him to release Momo's hair as he hit the deck hard. 

"What the hell!?" 

A man with red and white hair soared across the ship, the rope from the mainmast gripped tightly in his fist before he skidded on his heels across the deck of the vessel. 

"S-Shouto?" Momo landed on her knees holding her stomach, one eye clenched tightly from the pain. 

"We spotted the cannon fire." Shouto moved to her side as the other two men raised their swords again, several others soon joining them, leaving Shouto and Momo outnumbered. 

He held his hand out to her and she didn't hesitate to accept his help with a smile. Using the toe of his boot, he tossed up her discarded sword, which she caught easily in her right hand before moving to stand back to back with her new partner. 

"Let's do this!" 

Momo lunged forward and parried her sword against one of the pirate's before stepping back and proceeded to attack him with the tip of her weapon, nearly slicing into her opponent before he deflected it and shoved her away. She hit Shouto's back, but he kept his balance and pressed into her, giving her the push she needed to thrust her sword forward again. The man met her attacks with his own but was taken aback when she ducked his last move and twisted on her feet instead before slamming the hilt of her sword into his stomach. 

With a smirk on his lips, Shouto marveled at the skill of her swordsmanship. Thanks to her father who had taught her everything he had known over the first eighteen years of her life before he told her to run away. She is a formidable foe, female or not, she was not one to be trifled with. 

"You're improving," he quipped and kneed his own rival in the gut, sending him to the ground, it was subtle, but he recognized her change of fighting style immediately. 

"You're not so bad yourself." She let a grin spread over her lips as she reached out her arm, allowing him to get a firm grip before he swung her around in a circle, her boots knocking into the heads of several of the men at once. 

When she landed back on her feet, she stared angrily down at the one that was still conscious. "You can tell Shigaraki that I will never marry him." Her tone final. 

"You'll pay," he laughed as an explosion rocked the ship, “and so will he." Momo's heart leaped into her throat before she was thrown against the railing. 

Once she stabilized herself, her dark eyes glanced at Shouto, fear filling the black orbs when one of the men staggered to his feet and raised his weapon above the red and white-haired male's head. 

"Shouto!” 

Momo's warning didn’t give the red- and white-haired male enough time to react as the man's blade came down on him. His eye widened, blood splattering across his clothes before he realized Momo had jumped in to save him. The sword had sliced into her shoulder forcing a cry of pain from her.  

Snapping himself out of his frozen state at her sacrifice, he swung out his arm to slam it into the man's throat, forcing the blade from his companions' body. 

“Are you alright?!” Shouto questioned her as he helped her to her feet, locking his arm firmly around her waist, while her uninjured arm came to rest around his neck. Another explosion rocked the ship, nearly sending them to their knees. 

A loud whistle sounded and Shouto knew his crew had rescued the other females from the ship. Breathing out a sigh of relief, now he just had to get the two of them out of here.  

Picking up the raven-haired beauty into his arms, he dashed towards the side of the boat, hoping the plank they had used to board her ship was still there. Fear and frustration settled over him when he realized that option was no longer an option, the side where the plank had been, was blown to pieces. 

“Dammit!” He cursed and hurriedly turned in several directions, hoping to find another way out. 

“Just go without me,” Momo whispered through gritted teeth, knowing it would be difficult for him to escape with her in tow. 

He heard her spoken words, but he refused to leave her, how could she expect him to leave her behind. It may have been something his old man would have done, but he couldn't leave a comrade behind, especially if it was her. 

“A captain goes down with their ship,” she smiled up at him with tears in her eyes, “remember?” 

“If you think I’m going to leave you here to die, then you really are crazy.” His gray eye locked gazes with hers, her heart started to beat too quickly for her chest to handle.  

“But-" 

“Shut up.” 

Momo’s eyes widened at the anger in his tone. She had never seen him get mad at her before in the last few years that she's known him. 

“I’ve already lost my family, I'm not about to let someone else I love die.” 

“Shouto…” His name left her lips on a whisper as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

“While I still live and breathe, you will not perish," he vowed. A choked sob escaped her. 

He proceeded with the task at hand, not giving her a chance to respond. 

“Captain!” 

The call had him spinning towards the source and he spotted the green-haired crewmate of his, sailing by on their ship. 

“Hurry, the ship is going down!” 

Before he could speak, another explosion nearly made him drop the female in his arms. 

“Arrgh.” 

A giggle sounded from the woman in his hold  

“Are you seriously laughing right now?” 

“I can’t help it, you sounded like a true pirate.” She smiled with a grimace as his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, at least her wound didn’t dampen her mood. 

Reaching to his side he grabbed the rope that had a grappling hook attached to the end. 

“I need you to hold onto me.” 

Nodding, she latched her arms around his neck as he stepped up on the edge of the ship. He twirled the rope with his right hand, thanking his luck that it snagged onto his ship with ease.  

He moved to take the plunge, but a soft voice gave him pause. 

“I love you too.”  

He smiled at words until she decided to speak up again with words that made him roll his eyes. 

“If we go, we go together.” 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

And he jumped.

__________

Shouto watched Momo while she slept, his eyes traveled to the pale white bandage over her shoulder and couldn’t help thinking it was his fault she had been hurt. After they had successfully made it to his ship, his crewmates and hers immediately tended to her wound before she lost consciousness, she had been asleep up until now. 

“Don't blame yourself for this.” 

Her voice startled him and his gray eye met hers in the candlelit room of the Captain's quarters. Her hand reached out to caress his face, the pad of her fingers brushing the strap of the patch over his left eye. His hand immediately came up to take hers as she sat up on the bed to come face to face with his seated form. 

“Why do you wear the eyepatch?” 

Momo knew of the scar that was hidden beneath the patch from the stories Shouto had told her about his family. But according to him, his eye was perfectly fine. 

“The scar is unsightly.” 

“Shouto, none of your friends would see you any differently.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do.” She smiled and forced his hand from hers so she could reach out again. “May I?” 

With a defeated sigh he nodded at her pleading tone and she didn’t hesitate to slip it off his face. What surprised her was the blue eye that greeted her and she couldn’t contain the blush that crept across her cheeks. 

“Oh.” She looked away and Shouto was about to remind her that he had warned her until she spoke once more. “You never said you had heterochromia.” 

“Sorry.” He smiled slightly at her as she hesitantly brought her hand back to his face, her thumb brushing the rough skin under his eye. 

“You have beautiful eyes, you should show both of them more often.” 

“I’ll do it for you,” he murmured and turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand as she sucked in a sharp breath, “but I also have a request.” 

“Oh sure.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His blunt question caught her off guard and she couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across her lips. 

“Please do.” 

When his lips touched hers she couldn’t stop the fluttering in her chest as a euphoric feeling filled her with such force she felt she would float away. His lips were surprisingly soft against her own before she parted her lips slightly to deepen the kiss. Her arms wound around his neck to pull him closer while his hands rested on her hips. 

They parted if only to catch their breath and she couldn’t help but whisper a certain pirate phrase against his lips. 

“Well blow me down.” 

The embarrassed look he gave her sent her into a fit of giggles. “What? I wanted to sound like a true pirate too.” 

The joke made at his expense forced him to shove her back onto the bed and assault her sides. He was careful not to jostle her shoulder too much as he tickled her but with how much she was laughing he doubted she even noticed. 

“Shouto!” She snorted unladylike and it was a sound he would never get tired of hearing. 

[splitpush]

[ENG] 銀の匙 | Silver Spoon 131 (final chapter)

I’ve loved Gin no Saji for many years. I wanted to provide a roughly-translated manuscript for any other English-speaking fans that are still waiting for the finale to this beautiful manga by Arakawa-sensei. I supplemented my translation using the Chinese scanlation provided here by lumosmoon and typeset by 王少. Page numbers correspond to numbers on the side of the pages in the raw scans.

If anyone is interested in typesetting this translation to the manga, please link this post and credit me under the name “hachiko”, thanks! Enjoy & please excuse any errors.

[page 1~3]

Hachiken: The big blue sky. The gold-coloured lands. A blurry horizon. A smart phone with no signal...

Subtitle: A coming-of-age story built from tears, sweat, and dirt has finally come full-circle in a 32-page finale!!! In this endless field washed in gold... For a boy who was once unable to visualize what would come in the future, who disliked having a dream... His future is beginning to sprout at last.

Hachiken: Where... am I...?

[page 4]

Narrator: The answer is... Russia. [big arrow] Specifically, here. [small arrow points to Ezono]

Subtitle: Even though Hachiken has finally grown up a little... he still gets lost!! A bad sense of direction that transcends international borders.

Hachiken: “If you follow ‘this path’ we’ll see each other...” is what he told me. But are you kidding? This is RUSSIA!!! (text on the road: “THIS PATH”) Brings me back to the memory of that day in the summer of first year, when I had to walk along the path between Mikage Ranch and Komaba Ranch… Even if it’s one road and I won’t get lost, it probably won’t be without incident… Aren’t there bears here in Russia? Tigers? (Also it’s Russia!)

[page 5]

Subtitle: The last chapter of this coming-of-age story opens in the far east of Russia! Accompanied by the low rumbling of thundering machinery, what approaches Hachiken…!?

A familiar person’s back: So you really came, Hachiken!

[page 6]

Hachiken: Komabaaaaaa !!!

Komaba: Hey. You got lost, didn’t you?

Hachiken: Even if I don’t get lost I’d still encounter some kind of trouble!!!

Recap: After graduating from Ooezo Agricultural High School, Hachiken & co. went their separate ways. Now, four years later, his friends have gathered at Aki’s place while she is studying at Chikudai. But Hachiken, also at Chikudai, is nowhere to be found… 

[page 7]

Komaba: If… you could see the mountains, you would know how to get your bearings...

Hachiken: Ah-- In our 360-degree visible radius there is not a single hill or ocean, and all I see are fields. I’ve never seen anything like it in Hokkaido.

Komaba: Hachiken, why did you come dressed so formally?

Hachiken: You were the one that told me there was an interesting business proposal!! Please take my business card!

Komaba: In recent years, Amur Oblast has started to do agriculture-related business with the banks in Hokkaido.

Hachiken: Japan-Russia relations?

Komaba: Yup. A joint venture between the Japanese banks and Amur Oblast. How do I say this, I don’t know if Russians are full of heart or simply rough-handed, but the motto they have here is basically: “sow as you please, and reap as you please”.

Hachiken: Oh… 

[page 8]

Komaba: Due to the effects of global warming, the eternally frozen fields are now arable. And so a Russian dude casually told me to “do as you please” with this huge piece of land.

Russian dude: So you want to use the land? Sure, provided that you can speak the language, have the work ethic, and drink the vodka with me!

Hachiken: Hoho….

Komaba: So I started using the methods we used commonly in Japan to grow soy on the land. In our first year, the crop yield suddenly increased by 50%.

Hachiken: Just how “do as you please” were these Russians before this!!!

Komaba: We are leading the way carefully. With all the knowledge that we’ve accumulated,  we can of course lead carefully.

[page 9] 

(Russian) Kid: ICHIRO -- !! Kid: Done work yet? Komaba: Yup. Kid: Then let’s play some baseball! Kid: Teach me how to toss a forkball! Komaba: Tossing a fork requires muscle! Muscle!

Hachiken: I don’t know what they are talking about, but I can tell it’s about muscles… 

[page 10]

Komaba (Russian): Your hands are still too small, so let’s try it first with your thumb and forefinger. Don’t push yourself, or you’ll hurt your wrist.

Hachiken: Komaba can speak Russian!

Komaba: It’s thanks to Alexandra-san. If you wanna work here, being able to speak Russian is a huge help.

Hachiken: It would’ve been nice to learn some Russian. I was shocked that nobody spoke English here.

Komaba: And the language of sports is universal!

Exclamations in Russian: Yeah!! Alright!!

[page 11]

Hachiken: How popular is baseball in Russia?

Komaba: It’s not at all. If I was born here, I coulda gone to Koushien. Just tell the kids a couple stories about forkballs and the Carps, and they’re immediately hooked. I said I would teach them how to play and the parents cleared the land into a baseball field.

Hachiken: It’s a Field of Dreams. Like an oversized Ezono.

Komaba: Speaking of Ezono, Sakuragi-sensei went to a lot of trouble to help me secure my place here in Russia.

Hachiken: Same here, it’s all thanks to Sakuragi-sensei that I was able to find network connections for pig-raising.

Hachiken: Komaba, do you have your own ranch here yet?

Komaba: That’s the plan right now. But there’s still a lot here yet to be developed. Setting up a grain loading operation near Vladivostok, establishing shipping routes with Hokkaido, I think these projects are all pretty cool.

[page 12]

Komaba: We can provide Hokkaido with cheaper animal feed,  and Hokkaido can provide us with resources and agricultural equipment.  A land filled with so much potential, only 1500km away from my hometown.  Something this interesting, who wouldn’t wanna try their hand at developing it?

Hachiken: You’re not scared of failure?

Komaba: Nothing will move forward if you don’t even try.

[page 13]

Komaba: Our ancestors were the same when they pioneered Hokkaido. Thinking about it that way gives me courage.  (Foul ball!) That being said, the people here won’t sell their land to a foreigner. If I want to have my own ranch here, first I’ll have to take a Russian bride.

Hachiken: Really! Komaba is marrying a Russian girl!

Komaba: What about you? (Kids: Strike out!)

Hachiken: Wat

Komaba: Aren’t you thinking about marrying Aki?

Hachiken: Eh...!! We’re still students...!! And I gotta think about Aki’s feelings too, what kind of nonsense are you spouting!! Even though things have been going well!!

Komaba: Shuddup… 

[page 14]

Hachiken: ….“Hachiken Aki” and “Mikage Yuugo”, Which do you think sounds better?

Komaba: “Mikage Yuugo” definitely has a better rhythm to it.

Hachiken: Yeah, I thought so too.

Komaba: Hey, you guys are happy together, that’s all that matters.

Hachiken: Regardless, my pasture-raised pig business hasn’t even taken off yet, so marriage is out of the question right now.

Komaba: As expected, you wanna do everything too properly.

Hachiken: I need to get my accreditation from the university for food hygiene management, then I’ll be able to build my own private processing plant, Hmm, how many years is that going to take… … 

[page 15]

Komaba: Just work on getting your pig-raising business up and running successfully for now.

Hachiken: Eh?

(Russian) Kid: Ichiro’s friend, come play with us too! Kid: Isn’t it boring to just watch?

Hachiken: Huh? What’s this, what this? What, me?

Komaba: Go hit a few. They think everyone from Japan is good at baseball.

Hachiken: As if. But I should be able to hit some balls if I’m playing with kids…  I can’t make a proper stance wearing these shoes anyway, I’ll just take it ea~sy...

[page 16]

Hachiken: YOU! Hey, what are you playing at!!! As if I’ll be able to hit any of your pitches!!! 

Komaba: This is my revenge for the past!

(kids cheering: Ichiro!! Ichiro!!)

Hachiken: You’re totally motioning for a fly-ball, please just let me lose!!

[page 17]

Hachiken: … I wanna go back to Japan… Man at the net: Ball.

Komaba: You’re not going anywhere!

Hachiken: Why did we come all the way to Russia just to play baseball?  Man at the net: Ball.

Komaba: I know right. To think that a certain somebody had no~idea what they wanted to do in the future when they were a first-year in high school. Why do you raise pigs?

Hachiken: How should I know!! Why are you asking this!! Also, wasn’t it you that called me over to Russia because you needed me!!

Komaba: Ah, right, right.

(Russian) Kid: It’s a homerun!! Kid: So cool!!

[page 18]

Komaba: Hachiken. Come raise your pigs in Russia.

Hachiken: Hah?

Komaba: Nice-- that’s a strike! I’ve been following Ookawa-san’s social media. Your pigs, the annual yield has been increasing quite steadily.

[page 19]

Komaba: To be able to produce that yield in a cold climate pasture, it’s a testament to how hard you’ve worked. Here in Russia, Despite the demand for meat, there are very few guys out here raising livestock. If you wanna get in on it, now’s the time.

Hachiken: … …You trying to pull a scam here?

Komaba: Does it really sound like that? To tell you the truth, if you want to raise livestock, this place is literally El Dorado.

Hachiken: If it’s that good, get the local people here to do it!

[page 20]

Hachiken: Hyah!! Man at the net: Strike!

Komaba: Didn’t I say just now, that I wanted to create a connection between Russia and Hokkaido. You’ll stay over there in Otaru, and I’ll be here in Vladivostok.

Hachiken: So you’re not a scammer! You’re the mafia!

Komaba: Refuse and I’ll break you.

Hachiken: You have no right to be teaching baseball to these poor Russian kids!!!

Komaba: I am Ichiro of the Far East.

Hachiken: Ichiro wouldn’t do something like this!!

Komaba: I’m kidding about breaking you, but I’m serious about the rest.

Hachiken: Do you have proof that this is even profitable!?

[page 21]

Komaba: Nope.

Hachiken: Oi!!!

Komaba: Although I don’t, I think it’ll be interesting to team-up with Hachiken. Let’s do it together.

Hachiken: Eh!?

[page 22]

Hachiken: Why did the ball just now drop like that!?

Komaba: Yes, that’s three strikes!! My victory!!

Hachiken: Ah~~~ I’m conflicted~~~~~

Komaba: Well, I guess that’s true. You’ve got your own life to live.

Hachiken: I’m really~ So conflicted~~~ … You know, I, made a promise long ago to never be the guy that would deny someone of their dream.

[page 23]

Komaba: Ah ha ha! That’s you, all right.

Hachiken: Also, raising pigs on such a wide area of land could be interesting… !!

Komaba: Then it’s decided.

Hachiken: Don’t just say that!

Komaba: Japan’s large-scale industry and greenhouse vegetable industry players are already making moves here.

Hachiken: Ah-- and there’s already talk going around about “growing vegetables with pig manure”, so we’ll have a finger in that pie too…. …No, wait, wait!

(Russian) Kid: What are they chatting about? Kid: Hurry up and tell us too--

Hachiken: Eh? What? Ah! You want me to get out of the batter box? Sorry, sorry!

[page 24]

Komaba: ?

Kid (Russian): Okay!

Hachiken: Whew-- gesturing successful! Oi, Komaba!!

[page 25]

Hachiken: Let’s go again, we’ll decide it with the next ball!!

Komaba: … Hah?

Hachiken: If I hit it, everything before doesn’t count! Komaba, if you win this one, As GINSAJI’s representative, I’ll consider this opportunity more closely!!

Komaba: Are you supposing that, I’ll go easy on you?

[page 26]

Komaba: … …Of course. How will ya know if ya don’t try.

Hachiken: All right Komaba, gimme your best shot!!

Komaba: Since you’re getting serious now, I’ll have to get serious too!!

[page 27]

Hachiken: Are you kidding me! Can’t you go easy on me just a little!!

Komaba: Shut up!! Next up, forkball!! You’ve been warned!!

Hachiken: Please just throw in a straight line!! Kyaaaaaa--

[page 28]

Student: Sensei-- Actually, I was thinking about starting my own business.

Sakuragi: Eh! What type of work?

Student: I love to cook and eat tomato-based recipes, so I want to use the tomatoes that we’ve been growing at home to start a restaurant! … But, people around me say that starting a business right out of high school is pretty impossible, I should probably wait until I mature a bit more… 

Sakuragi: Oh! This tomato is delicious!

Student: Right? The harvest from this year came out just as I imagined it!

Sakuragi: Hm. Starting a business after high school. You may face some difficulties indeed. I understand why the people around you are worried.

[page 29~30]

Sakuragi: And it’s difficult for me to advise you on this as well…  -- Is what I would have said a few years back! Among the students that I’ve taught over the years, there once was a guy who was a runaway from the regular high school examination track; he had come to Ezono with zero goals. The minute he set foot on campus, he suffered one hardship after another. He joined the equestrian club after he was invited by a female classmate. Didn’t even have the guts to drop out. He’d never made pizza once, but endeavored to do it in stride. He christened a pig and cared for it with so much love, that when he cooked and ate its meat he bawled his eyes out. During his part-time job, he wasted a ton of milk and bawled his eyes out again. Snuck out of his dorm in the middle of the night and got slapped with toilet duty. Found a dog in the middle of the school and started to take care of it. Couldn’t refuse anybody’s request and overworked himself so hard, He ended up getting sick on the day of the school festival and couldn’t participate. Borrowed money from his friends and bumbled his way onto a ship bound for Russia.

Other teachers: He didn’t board the ship. He didn’t board it.

[page 31]

Sakuragi: He is the record-holder for the lowest score ever recorded at the Interhigh Equestrian tournament. He suddenly decided in December of his 3rd year that he would attempt the university entrance exam. Started dating the girl that he liked but never got her father’s approval.

Students: Wow, just hearing about this guy makes me anxious… Didn’t even get the father’s approval… 

(T/N: sorry, I don’t remember their names edits plz) Teacher: Oh, and don’t forget the boarding house explosion incident. Teacher: Right, right!

Students: What a scary guy.

Student: … and this person graduated without any issues?

Sakuragi: He did indeed. Apart from all of the above, he also started his own business while he was a student.

[page 32]

Sakuragi: And he’s the reason why all of you get to have such a leisurely pizza party like this, every year. If you’re interested in hearing more,

Let me tell you the story of the many different seeds that this man has sown.

[rebelwriter95]

Rules, Memories, and Other Uncomfortable Things.

Hiiii okay here we are!! Chapter One of my first fic! I'm really excited to show this to yall, I hope it came out okay. Just a note, the title of this might change and when it does I'll let you know before I change it. A big thank you to @whispersweetliestome for reading through it for me!! 😘

Word Count: about 2170.

Chpt 1/?

Rating: T *As a general warning. Might up the rating as we go. We'll see chapter by chapter :)

Warnings: Angsty. Does Mando count as a warning?

Chapter One

The sun was high in the sky by the time I finished weeding the garden. Standing up, I dust my hands off and then absentmindedly lean on the post of the fence behind me. I stare off into the distance, caught in my endless parade of thoughts again.  Life has been surprisingly good since I settled down. Boring, but good. I mean, what else did I expect when I decided to become a farmer? Sure there were some days when I miss my old life. It was a hard, dangerous, and sometimes nasty life, but it was my life and I was damn good at it.  

Something shiny catches my attention and I’m flooded with memories once the glistening figure comes into focus. All at once, my breath catches in my chest and I become acutely aware of how all of my nerve endings now feel like they’ve been zapped with a bolt of lightning. Why now, of all times, does he choose to come back? Things had just started to fall into place and feel somewhat normal. I try to focus on steadying my breathing, but it’s too late and I start to get lightheaded. I reach out a hand to catch my balance. Instead of finding the fence post, a warm leather-clad hand grabs onto my bare one and holds it tight. “It’s been so long”, a disembodied modulated voice rumbles. ‘Not long enough’ almost makes its way past my trembling lips. I continue to stare down at the boots across from mine own, afraid to look at the owner of the deep voice. 

** You reach out and grab onto the hand offered to you. “It’s been so long, I can tell.” No need to see his face, you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. No need to rub it in…” you trail off as you brush the dust off your pants. “Again!” you call, falling into place. You crouch in a staggered stance stance so that your right leg is behind you. After raising your fists in a defensive position just high enough to see above them, you wait for your partner to do the same. He chuckled and copied your stance. Left foot moves over right, then right foot steps back out. Repeat. It’s a careful dance the two of you share as you size up your opponent once again. Lunging forward on your left foot, you sweep your right leg out to try to throw the Mandalorian off his feet. Taking the bait, he jumps it cleanly and you seize the opportunity to quickly shift your body to tackle him as soon as his feet touch the ground. You land with your right forearm against his chest plate and knees on either side of his hips, effectively pinning him to the ground. Before you could say something witty, you feel the barrel of his blaster press into your soft (vulnerable) side. “Not bad, I guess” he chuckles. You cock your head to the side and tap the top of where his beskar chest stops with the small hidden knife in your right hand. “You guess?” **

A gentle cough pulls me out of my thoughts. Giving in, I slowly look up to the helmet that taunts my dreams late at night. A million questions run through my mind as I drink in the sight of him. Sure I was still mad at him, but that never stops the longing in my soul from calling out to him. I guess he finally answered. “What do you want?” I asked him after I found my voice. 

He takes a step closer to me and replies deeply, “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” I hang my head to try to hide the flush that is crawling quickly across my cheeks; knowing full well that respect should be shown at all times, no matter how badly things may end. His hand squeezes mine comfortingly while his free hand reaches up to stroke my cheek. I jerk back slightly before he makes contact. He sighs and his hands fall to his sides. Stepping around him and out of the fenced off area, I start walking back to my wooden abode. “Well, come on then. I’d at least like to clean my hands before you explain what life or death situation brought you to my doorstep.” I throw over my shoulder.  

Wiping my hands dry on a rag, I turn to where he’s leaning against my counter. “So, what brings you here?” He pauses, seemingly to gather the right words. “I need your eyes.” My eyes narrow and quickly dart over the chest that lays covered in dust, lingering in the shadows of the corner. “What makes you think I’d help?” I all but snarled at him. His head cocked and I mentally kicked myself for being a brat again. I rubbed my temples and started again. “Look around Mando. What makes you think that I would give all this up?” He pushed himself off the counter and stalked toward me. He set a small puck next to me then leaned in and said, “Because this isn’t who you are, and you know it.” I look down and finger the beat-up device before picking it up.

** “I had it covered you know” You claimed. “Oh so that’s what you call that little move? I’m not sure how almost falling off a cliff constitutes as ‘having it covered’“ he grunted. You drop the arm you were pulling to cross your arms and glare at the Mandalorian across from you, not that he could see the look on your face given the helmet shielding your faces. You wait until he turns to you and sighs, dropping the arm he has been dragging, to start talking. “Look.. You’re right. I lost my focus which caused me to lose my footing. If it hadn't been for you, this criminal here” You kicked him for added effect “would have gotten away. “I’m sorry.” He just nods in response, then bends over to pick up his designated arm. “Come on, we need to get him in the cryo freeze chamber before he wakes up.” You squat to pick up your arm, and then continued back to the ship. 

Once back on the Razorcrest, the two of you wrestle with the now conscious thief, trying to get him into the chamber. “Come on, stop fighting it,” you grit your teeth. “Look, I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” You laugh to yourself at your own witty one liner, and you think you can make out a faint chuckle from the armor-covered bounty hunter to your right. The criminal seizes the opportunity to slip loose and shoulder-charge you. You recover quickly and throat punch him, then you use all your strength to shove the burly creature into place so the Mandalorian can hit the button that initiates cryo freeze. 

Rolling your shoulders and stretching your arms above your head, you glance around trying to find the little device you had placed on a ledge near the chamber before going out on the hunt this morning. Once it was located and in your hands, you turn to face the 6’8” tall man. “Are you ready?” you asked. He turned to see what you were talking about and immediately put his hand up in a “surrender” gesture. “Woah, hold on. That’s not happening.” He protested. You practically skip over to where he and the frozen form are still situated. “Come on, you said you would! Besides. It’s just one picture and it’ll be our little secret, I promise!” You wiggle in place just a tiny bit as a sort of silent plea. He signs heavily and shakes his head. “Be quick about it.” He finally replies after what felt like an eternity. You hold up the disk out in front of the two of you, posed in front your first bounty. “Say carbonite!” you laughed. Right before you took the snapshot, you quickly stuck your finger close to the frozen figure, in the direction of his snout.**

I chuckle quietly to myself, recalling the messy day that holoframe was taken. It was my first bounty by myself, some mid-level smuggler that crossed the wrong people. You know, career jump-start type thing. While I was trying to take him down, I saw something move in the corner of my eye and I got distracted just long enough for the surprisingly agile creature to kick me in the chest and send me flying backward. Thankfully, the distracting something turned out to be none other than my teacher, whom I had thought stayed back on the ship. After that save, I learned to not only stay focused, but also always have one eye on one’s surroundings at all times. Well, learned is a strong word considering what was yet still to come between us. 

I go to stick my finger in the holographic creature’s nose for old times sake but the Mandalorian’s hand reached out and turned the puck off. “See? You haven’t changed one bit.” He spoke with a hint of wistfulness that comes from years of close contact. “Listen... You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” I squeezed my eyes shut, and take a deep breath. This man needs to stop talking, like right now, because his voice had this dangerous habit of dragging me into unsavory situations. I take another, deeper breath and exhale completely before trying to hand him back the puck. “I’m not sure how much help I can be, seeing as, you know…” I trail off and gesture shallowly to my back with my free hand. An awkward silence blanketed the already quiet house. His large hand wraps around mine to close my hand around the small puck then leaned in close enough that I feared that he would hear the erratic beating of my pounding heart. “Whatever you decide, this belongs to you.” he rumbled lowly in my ear. After a moment, he spins on his heel and heads to the door. I glance down at the device in my hands, the one I thought was lost to me forever. As of their own accord, my feet walk me over to the chest that sits in that lonely corner. My treacherous hands take the key hidden under the worn, work-stained shirt I’m wearing and unlock the heavy contraption that keeps the old secrets and memories locked away. Fingers stretch outward to run along the smooth, thick material of my deep purple cloak, gently though, like touching it any harder would release all of the history that was so carefully and deliberately hidden away. 

Choice decided, I scramble to my feet and run after the Mandalorian stalking away from my house, toward the setting suns. His head turns so that it looks as if he’s glancing over his shoulder when he hears my pounding footsteps sprinting up to him. He slows to a stop so you can catch up to his long, strong strides. “Alright,” I agree. I can see his shoulders perk up a bit as it registers what I’m agreeing to. Nodding in reply, he tells me that he has a couple of things to take care of before leaving tomorrow at dawn. “You know the deal, pack only the necessities. I’ll be back tomorrow at sunrise to pick you up.” I grunt a quick yes sir to the order given to me, falling back into old habits a hell of a lot quicker than I want. Turning back toward the meager house I had built myself, I made a list of all of the items I would need, and which supplies I could grab for the trip that wouldn’t spoil. Opening up the chest once more, I wrap the cloak around the contents of the wooden crate and stuff it into the combat bag I have hanging off my shoulder, then I start packing the rest of my essential items. 

The next morning, I sit outside in the cool damp grass meditating on the rules I created for myself late last night instead of sleeping. Hearing the screams  of the Razorcrest’s engines, I stand and dust myself off. I steal one last glimpse behind me before I mutter a soft good-bye for the me I could have been. Facing forward again, I whisper a careful prayer. One about hope. About surviving the coming storm I know is bound to happen. You don’t just mash together you guys’ personalities and expect things not to get heated. I square my shoulders and walk confidently up the ramp to where my old friend stands waiting for me, a sight that holds such bittersweet emotions with it. It’s like a punch in the gut though, and I have to remind myself to keep things professional. Remember the rules, I thought to myself. Stay composed. This can not end like it did last time.