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melanielocke · 4 years ago

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Illicit Affairs

A while ago I wrote a fic about Alastair’s relationship with Charles and posted it on AO3 (titled Tolerate it there)

The original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31293734

I rewrote it because some of the details were wrong and some parts I didn’t like anymore, so I’m posting the new one here.

CW: toxic relationship, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), some of which sort of pressured (Since Alastair is a minor, it definitely cannot be considered consensual), mentions of alcoholism

It had been a long time since Alastair had visited the Paris Institute. Last time must have been the Herondale party when he was fourteen. It was a magnificent building, often said to be second only to the London Institute, and the second largest in Europe. He would be staying here for a year, away from his family. He’d pressed his parents about it for months. They’d thought he was too young for a travel year at sixteen, but after speaking of it with his mother he’d been allowed to go. Alastair guessed she felt sorry for him, being trapped at home again, and had decided he deserved a break.

Paris would be a chance to start over, or at least he hoped so. He’d thought the same of Shadowhunter Academy though, and what a disaster that had been… He didn’t quite dare hope here would be better, but he did know Charles Fairchild would be here and the few times they’d met he’d been very kind to him. Alastair had met him here, ironically, at the Herondale’s party when he was fourteen. Alastair had been so eager to impress powerful people, and Charles had seemed very impressed with his manners and his knowledge on shadowhunter politics. They’d started writing each other letters, and Charles had become Alastair’s first real friend. He certainly didn’t consider any of the boys from school his friends.

About a year ago Charles had sent him a copy of Machiavelli’s the Prince, which had become his favorite book. And recently Charles had informed him that he would move to Paris for a year to replace the head of the Institute, and had suggested he come there for his travel year. He was a bit young, that was true, but being so isolated wasn’t good for his progress and even his parents couldn’t deny that spending time with the consul’s eldest son was good for their family’s social standing.

He entered, carrying his bags with him. He’d tried to pack lightly, but Risa and his mother had added all kinds of things over the past week and now it was still heavy even for a trained shadowhunter to carry on his own.

‘You must be Mr. Carstairs,’ a woman said.

Judging from her dress and lack of runes, Alastair guessed she must be one of the mundane servants here.

‘That’s right,’ he said.

‘I’m Madeleine,’ she said, ‘I’m a maid here. Come, I’ll show you to your room.’

He followed the servant woman to a bedroom, where Alastair dropped his bags. Madeleine left him there to unpack, and Alastair took his time. He hated mess, and preferred it when everything had its proper place. He’d packed a few of his favorite daggers, and took them out, looking carefully for a proper place for them.

After a while he noticed someone was standing in the doorway. Familiar red hair, styled carefully, and dressed in a stylish grey suit. Charles Fairchild. He didn’t look much like his younger brother, and although everyone was always fussing about Matthew’s looks, Alastair preferred Charles’ serious face, the way he dressed like someone powerful instead of like a clown.

‘Look at you, all grown up,’ Charles said. ‘It’s been a while, Alastair. I’m glad to see you arrived.’

Alastair hadn’t seen Charles in person in over a year. He still looked very handsome, and Alastair was glad he was here. Everything was better than being home around his father.

‘I’m glad to see you too,’ Alastair said. ‘Congratulations on making interim head of the institute.’

‘Thanks. It is a great opportunity for me. I feel like every shadowhunter politician should have some experience at an institute. Growing up in Idris leaves one a bit sheltered from the harsh realities of Shadowhunter life, I’m afraid.’

Alastair wondered where his childhood fit in. He certainly hadn’t grown up somewhere safe and sheltered, but if it made him a better Shadowhunter he had no idea.

‘That’s why many shadowhunters take a travel year, don’t we?’ Alastair said.

‘Exactly. I lived in London myself before coming here, although of course that is where my family is from and demonic activity there is exceptionally low. Come, I’ll show you around the institute. I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks myself, but I have figured out the lay out.’

Charles showed him around, leading him to the main hall where most of the meetings were held.

‘You’re not yet old enough to be in enclave meetings, are you?’ Charles asked.

‘I will turn seventeen in a month,’ Alastair said. ‘So no, not yet.’

‘Shame, I think you would do well. Of course, I will give you permission to come and watch. That way, you’ll still learn plenty.’

Did Charles really think he would do well?

‘You’re very mature for your age,’ Charles continued. ‘Nothing like my brother. I can’t believe you’re only sixteen.’

Alastair did not want to discuss Charles’ younger brother, but was flattered Charles thought he was mature. Of course, he had to be, since he’d had to take care of his father from a young age. Being young and immature was a luxury Alastair did not have, unlike Matthew Fairchild.

‘I think I would like to watch enclave meetings,’ Alastair said.

Charles showed him to the training rooms next, and asked him about his preference for weapons and Alastair told him about his spears.

‘Spears, huh? I thought I saw you with daggers in your room.’

‘Those are decorative, mostly. I collect them. But I always carry at least one spear with me when I go outside, you never know when something might happen.’

Alastair remembered the vetis demon Clive Cartwright had released all these years ago at the academy. How he’d been too scared to tell his “friends” how he felt about the prank, that it was a terrible idea. He’d gone along anyway, thinking that if he was there at least he had some control of the situation. Then Clive had died, and perhaps Alastair could have saved him, had he carried his spears. He’d never left them behind again.

‘Seems a bit unpractical,’ Charles said. ‘How do you even carry a spear?’

‘Not at all. You see, these can be folded, so I can comfortably carry them underneath my suit. And they allow me to fight demons from a bit more distance.’

Alastair hated it when he got covered in blood, ichor, and other bits of demon parts, but fortunately that didn’t happen as often anymore. He still hated the way he looked after a fight though, with his hair all over the place and his clothes messy, but it was better than being covered in blood. He always put great effort into his appearance. With people constantly judging him for how he looked, he couldn’t afford to be seen with even a hair out of place.

‘Would you like to show me a bit? I’ve never trained with spears myself, nor seen anyone else do it. It’s a bit of an unconventional weapon after all.’

Alastair hesitated, and then unfolded one of his spears from underneath his suit. He’d still been carrying it even when there was no need inside. He guessed he’d forgotten to take it off, that’s how comfortable they were underneath his clothes. It was convenient now though, since he didn’t see any spears in the training room. He didn’t feel like changing into gear just for a demonstration, that would come later during training, but he did step into the training room. It was much bigger than what he was used to at home.

Alastair threw the spear, hitting a target about as far away as he could hit from here, hoping it would impress Charles.

‘I usually carry more than one spear, so I can throw them as well without ever being left unarmed.’

‘Clever,’ Charles said. ‘I’ve mostly trained with swords myself. Of course, I do spend most of my time on Shadowhunter politics and there’s much I can teach you about that. And maybe someday you can teach me how to use a spear.’

Alastair suspected Charles wasn’t much of a fighter, but he didn’t mind. At least he didn’t have to worry about someone who spent most of his time writing letters and arguing with older shadowhunters. Charles was very unlikely to get hurt somehow, which allowed Alastair to let down his guard a bit.

During his first few weeks in Paris he continued to spend much time with Charles, the older man showing him around and telling him everything about his work, how to run an institute, and the experience he had helping his mother with her work as Consul.

‘Have you considered a career in politics yourself, Alastair? Maybe head an institute someday, or even become Inquisitor.’

Alastair had not, but he was intrigued. ‘I’d probably not do such a great job. I’m not great at getting people to like me.’

At the academy some people had liked him, of course. His “friends” who’d found his witty insults hilarious. And little Thomas Lightwood, who had followed him around for some reason. Alastair had always found his presence a bit uncomfortable, the way Thomas had seemed to see right through him. Yet at the same time, being adored did feel nice.

Most of the time he tended to antagonize people, keep them at a distance. It was safer that way, people who were scared of him would not hurt him.

Charles put his hand on his shoulder. Alastair knew it was only supposed to be friendly, but it didn’t feel that way. It sent a shiver down his spine and Alastair desperately hoped Charles hadn’t noticed. He didn’t want to know what Charles would think of him if he knew how Alastair really felt about him.

‘You don’t have to worry about getting people to like you,’ Charles said. ‘Not when you can make them owe you.’

Alastair wasn’t quite sure what Charles meant, but it sounded promising. He could make people owe him. And perhaps with Charles’ help, he could make his way up in the Clave, and escape the shame his father had brought to the Carstairs name.

He also knew none of that was likely to happen. He knew that if people discovered what he really was, he’d lose everything. He’d bring more shame to his family than his father did, which Alastair thought was completely unfair.

‘I like that,’ Alastair said. ‘I can work with that.’

‘Sure you can. But if it’s any consolation, I like you.’

At that, Alastair smiled.

The evening before Alastair’s seventeenth birthday, he discovered a note in his room.

Come to my bedroom at midnight. Make sure no one sees you.

C.F.

Alastair wasn’t sure why Charles would want to see him in his bedroom, but he was also curious. He liked Charles in a way he hadn’t often liked people. Sure, there had been men he found attractive, but he felt like he connected to Charles. The older man seemed to understand him in a way no one else could, and was always willing to give him advice and teach him about shadowhunter politics. He had no idea, however, if Charles was like him. He would think it unlikely. Charles was a respectable man, a powerful man. Charles would be consul one day. But Alastair guessed powerful men had their secrets too, and why else would Charles invite him to his bedroom?

Alastair decided to go. He used his stealth to get through the institute unseen, something he had been good at for some time. When he was young, he’d always made sure no one discovered him before he found his father passed out somewhere. He knew even then what could happen if the wrong people found him alone on the streets at night.

No one was up at this hour, but he made sure to be quiet and not wake anyone. He found his way to Charles’s room, and quietly knocked on the door. For a moment he worried he might have gotten the wrong room and someone would be asking what he was doing here at this hour, but Charles opened the door, and rushed him inside, closing the door behind them.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d come.’

‘You asked me to.’

‘I did. Come, sit.’

Alastair sat down in the armchair. ‘Why did you want to see me at this hour?’

‘You seem like a man of many secrets, Alastair,’ Charles said.

Alastair couldn’t deny that exactly. Between his father and his romantic feelings for Charles, he had plenty of secrets.

‘You might not have realized,’ Charles continued. ‘But I have a secret of my own. Something that I’ve had to hide. I haven’t told a soul.’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘I wanted you to know my secret, because I’ve suspected for some time that your secret is similar. And I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out, so now is the best time.’

‘What sort of secret?’ Alastair asked, trying to sound more innocent than he was.

He suspected what Charles meant, but he wasn’t about to reveal that in case he was wrong.

Charles took in a deep breath, and Alastair could tell he found it difficult to share, even now. ‘I like men,’ he said. ‘I’ve known for several years, but I’ve never been able to tell anyone. But I’ve noticed the way you look at me… The way you respond when I touch you. I thought you should know that… that you aren’t alone.’

Alastair was left speechless for a moment. Even if he’d suspected, hearing Charles say it out loud was different. He’d known he liked men for several years, but he’d never told anyone and had never met another man he knew was like him. And Charles was a man he was definitely attracted to.

‘You’re right,’ Alastair said after an uncomfortable silence. ‘I do like men. And I like you.’

Charles took his hand, brushing over it with his thumb. ‘Can I kiss you?’

‘Please,’ Alastair said, a bit overwhelmed from everything.

Charles leant over and kissed him, gentle at first, then a bit firmer. Alastair had never been kissed before, had never considered it possible, and certainly not with someone like Charles Fairchild. He’d never imagined Charles might be like him, and even then that he would want this with him.

They broke apart. ‘I presume you understand, Alastair, that no one can know,’ Charles said. ‘We would both be ruined, if people found out. But if we’re careful, we can be together.’

Alastair was fine with that. He wasn’t ready for anyone to know about him liking men and wasn’t sure he would ever be ready.

‘I won’t tell,’ Alastair promised. It wasn’t like he had anyone to tell.

Charles didn’t say anything and kissed him again, hungrier this time. Demanding. He dragged him to the bed. Alastair wasn’t sure what was happening, but it felt good. He’d never thought someone could love him, but Charles did. He was a bit scared of rushing it, it was all so new. Charles began to remove his clothes and Alastair allowed it, still not sure what was going to happen.

When they were finished, Alastair tried to find a comfortable position next to Charles.

‘Happy birthday, Alastair,’ he said, kissing him again. ‘But you do have to leave.’

‘Can’t I… Can’t I sleep here?’

‘I wish you could, but it would be suspicious if people saw you leaving my bedroom. At this hour, no one would see you leave. I’ll see you tomorrow. I have a gift for you.’

Alastair was a bit disappointed he couldn’t stay any longer, but he quickly dressed himself and sneaked back to his own bedroom. He slept well for a change. He could still feel Charles’ lips, his hands exploring him.

The next morning, Charles did indeed have a gift for him. ‘I realized how important your dagger collection was to you,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you have one of these yet. It’s called a poignard, and was popular in France during the renaissance.’

Alastair smiled as he took a look at it. He didn’t have a dagger like this one, that was true. He’d wanted one for a while, but hadn’t gotten around to buying it.

‘Thank you, it’s beautiful. It’s true that these were popular in western Europe for a while, but they were also the primary weapon of the army of the Savafid empire in Persia during the 16th and 17th century.’

‘Oh, I did not know that,’ Charles said.

He spent much of the next months sneaking his way in and out of Charles’ bedroom at night. Hiding an affair was exciting, of course, and Alastair loved the thrill of it, but it was also difficult. When they saw each other during the day, Alastair had to fight to keep a neutral face, to hide any signs of affection. But at night he could be with Charles, comfortable for a while until he had to leave his room without being seen. With Charles he could let his guard down in a way he’d never done before. And he gave Charles everything he had, everything he could give. The other man could be demanding, and Alastair did not want to disappoint. He wanted to be enough for him, to be able to give him all he needed.

After a few months, Charles mentioned the topic of marriage when they were alone at night.

‘When I return to London, it is very likely I will enter an engagement with miss Ariadne Bridgestock. She’s the daughter of the Inquisitor, and such an alliance could prove quite useful.’

Alastair felt his heart sank. ‘But I thought…’ He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. I thought you loved me, he wanted to say.

‘It will likely be a temporary engagement,’ Charles said, taking his hand. ‘I do not care for her as I do for you, you know that. But to be allied to the Bridgestock family will certainly help me be elected Consul when my mother’s term ends and maybe then we could truly be together.’

Alastair’s eyes went wide. ‘Do you really think that’s possible?’

‘Perhaps. But I would not mind if you chose to marry. I would still want to be with you.’

Alastair determinedly shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I know I could never love a woman like I love you, and I’d never want to deceive someone of my love.’

‘Not all women mind,’ Charles said. ‘But I understand.’

Alastair was not so sure he did. But he didn’t like fighting with Charles and his lover had the gift to make him forget about whatever he was angry about as soon as they were in his bed together.

There were times when he did worry about the state of their relationship. When Charles decided he couldn’t accompany him when he wanted to see the city, claiming they couldn’t be seen together. Working together wasn’t an issue, nor was Charles teaching him about politics, but they certainly couldn’t go see the city together. And especially when Charles again brought up the topic of marriage, this time suggesting it would be good for both of them if Alastair got engaged.

‘I’m not going to change my mind on this, Charles,’ he said. ‘I do not want to be married to someone I do not love.’

‘And what will you do when your parents ask why you refuse to get married?’

‘I’ll figure something out. Besides, since we move around so much we barely meet other shadowhunters. It’ll be easy enough to convince them I simply haven’t met anyone I like.’

Alastair dreaded going back to his parents, away from Charles and from Paris and from everything that made him feel safe. But he also missed his mother and sister and regretted not being there to protect them. He wanted to mend the bond with Cordelia, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t tell her the truth about their father, and he certainly couldn’t tell her about Charles.

Charles paused. ‘You are very young. You still have plenty of time to find someone. But at some point you will be expected to marry. It could become very difficult to get ahead if you refuse. And what would your parents think, when you show no interest in women or marriage whatsoever?’

‘I guess so. But plenty of people marry for reasons other than love. My parents did, although they did fall in love over time. You’ll understand when you’re older.’

Alastair felt uncomfortable when Charles said that. His lover considered him a child still. Hadn’t he complimented him on how mature he was? Yet Charles often did not take him seriously, as if he was too young to understand. He often commented that he would understand things better when he was older. He was old enough to sleep with Charles though. He couldn’t make sense of it. So he did the best he could to please Charles, to show him he was mature and that he did understand. But when they differed of opinion, Charles always dismissed his ideas. That was fine though, he would be an adult soon enough and then Charles would have to take him seriously.

Except when Alastair arrived in London, nothing much seemed to change. Alastair attended every enclave meeting, now old enough to speak there himself, and did the best he could to have valuable input in these meetings, but Charles rarely listened. He preferred the sound of his own voice, even in the emergency they were in, which Charles wasn’t handling well at all. Just let me help you, he wanted to say. Just admit you cannot do this and you need me.

Not to mention here he was confronted with the presence of miss Ariadne Bridgestock, Charles’ fiancée. Alastair didn’t resent miss Bridgestock, he didn’t know her very well but he understood that as an adopted Indian woman, she was in no position to refuse to marry Charles. But he wanted Charles all to himself, to be the first thing on his mind, he didn’t want him to get married. He guessed that was not possible for someone like him. They’d always have to keep up appearances. He’d always have to be a secret.

Charles wasn’t there when Alastair needed him either. He was busy with his work, or with his fiancée who was ill and unlikely to wake up anytime soon, when Alastair just needed someone to talk to, someone to hold him. He had no one but Charles, no one he could confide in. He loved his sister, but he needed to protect her, not burden her with his struggles. Nor did he think she’d understand how he felt about Charles and he did not think he could take that rejection. He knew Layla was frustrated by his distance, but what else was he supposed to do?

So instead he was alone in his bedroom, after Charles had told him he didn’t have time to talk, to be more careful and not speak to him like that in public. Charles had promised he would come see him late in the evening, and he would just have to hold on until then. He knew Cordelia was spending more and more time with James Herondale and although he didn’t hate them as much as he pretended he did, he didn’t trust them either. They were so reckless, running towards danger and dragging Cordelia with them. Just like Charles, Herondale and his friends had no idea what they were up against and vastly overestimated their abilities to solve the situation, and one of these days Cordelia would get hurt because of it. And what would happen when his father was convicted? When Cordelia would inevitably find out the truth? Alastair didn’t want her to know, but at the same time he could barely stomach how she tried to rescue him as if he was some sort of hero.

Alastair cried for most of the day. His mother and Risa had gotten used to him locking himself in his bedroom by now and had left him, Risa only knocking once to announce she’d made tea. He hated crying, he hated being vulnerable like this and having to hide, but sometimes he couldn’t do it anymore. The anger had faded away and all that was left was emptiness. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was crying over, the way Cordelia kept putting herself in danger, the state of his relationship, his father. Plenty of options. It happened more and more frequently that he collapsed when he was sure no one would see, and Charles was never there to help him through it. He guessed he was expecting too much. But if Charles asked for him, told him he needed him, he would be there, always, no matter how inconvenient. Because he loved Charles.

He’d calmed a bit when it was time for dinner, and when everyone else had gone to bed, Charles did come for him. Alastair didn’t feel like arguing again, and instead accepted that even if it was a bit late, at least Charles was here now. He drew a soundless rune on the door, just in case someone would wake up and hear them.

‘Have you been crying?’ Charles asked.

To anyone else, he would have denied it. But Charles he trusted, even if his lover was not careful with his feelings at all. ‘A little,’ he said.

‘It is unbecoming for a man to cry,’ Charles said. ‘You’ll learn, in time, to deal with your emotions better.’

‘Perhaps I would have if you had actually made time for me when I needed you,’ Alastair bit back.

‘You know I was busy,’ Charles said. ‘Really, Alastair, I thought you were past this.’

He didn’t dare say anything else on the topic. He wasn’t sure he could take Charles’ dismissal. Charles was right, of course, he was too old to cry, had been for a long time, but what else was he supposed to do? The longer he held it in, the worse it got, and as long as no one actually saw him when he cried, it was alright.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you came.’

‘I am too. I missed you.’

Alastair wished Charles would stay with him, but as always he left when they were finished. It made sense, of course, Charles wouldn’t be able to explain sleeping over at the Carstairs house without anyone suspecting. Still, he wished he wasn’t alone. So he cried again, even if Charles had said it was unbecoming. No one would hear him. No one would know just how broken he was. He’d considered leaving Charles, but who was he kidding, Charles was all he had. He didn’t know how he’d survive without him.

When Cordelia came to talk to him about Charles, Alastair panicked. He was relieved to hear she still accepted him, but how could she have eavesdropped on his private conversations? That hurt the most, knowing that even if she claimed to love him, she didn’t trust him. He knew she hadn’t meant to find out he liked men this way, but she’d followed him because she’d expected him to reveal secrets he’d promised to keep. He remembered how she’d called Charles cruel. How he’d defended Charles’ actions to her, claiming he wasn’t cruel, how everything he did was so they could be together.

Charles said that all the time, but Alastair wasn’t sure he believed it anymore. It seemed more like everything Charles did was to further his career, and sometimes Alastair felt like an afterthought. Or perhaps someone Charles could satisfy his physical needs with, only tolerating that Alastair loved him with everything he had. They usually met to have sex, after all, but there could be much more to being with someone. Like how he’d taken Thomas to a museum, had walked along the Seine with him… Charles didn’t want any of that. The longer he thought about it, the more sick he felt. He still went to see Charles, even if he was disgusted by what he’d done to miss Bridgestock, how he’d abandoned her when she was in coma and replaced her with miss Grace Blackthorn. Even if he wasn’t sure he still liked it when Charles touched him.

Perhaps Cordelia was right, perhaps he should leave him. Charles wasn’t going to be what Alastair needed. And then there was Thomas Lightwood… Thomas, who’d grown up to be tall and strong, but also brave and kind and heroic. Someone Alastair didn’t deserve for sure. But perhaps he could have another chance. Perhaps he could leave Charles.

He looked at his dagger collection, one of the few things that brought him comfort anymore. It felt like there was one stuck inside of him, had been for years. Removing it would hurt, but it was the only way to survive. Having made up his mind, Alastair began to write a letter. He remembered how Alastair had refused Thomas entry into his house, refused to let him make the antidote. How Thomas had insisted that he did know what he was doing. Thomas was a hero. Charles had almost ruined the antidote, and Alastair wasn’t even sure he would have minded. If miss Bridgestock had died, no one would be able to contradict his story of breaking off the engagement before she’d fallen ill.

He knew it wasn’t the best way to break it off, that he should face Charles, but he wasn’t sure he could. He knew how well Charles manipulated him, making him forget his worries with soothing words and kisses. He couldn’t face him, but hopefully if Charles read his letter, he’d know to leave him alone. He was done with this half love, and even if he would end up alone it would be better than whatever he was to Charles. He deserved better.

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #tlh #the last hours #charlestair

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adventuresoutsidethegenderbinary · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, River. This ask is pretty long, and I am sorry for that. I have a lot to get off my chest, and I was hoping you could help.

I saw your post about your situation with your mother. I can't imagine how hard that must be for you. I just want you to know that you are not alone.

I have only formally come out as pansexual to my sister (affirming), my sax instructor (affirming) my therapists (affirming), my mom (accepting), and my oldest brother (accepting). About a month ago, I went to a meeting for an LGBTQ+ support group with my university (I currently live with my parents and drive to my classes). It was called "Spectrum," so I lied and said it was an autism group. However, my dad (a recently appointed Mormon bishop) took it upon himself to look it up, so when I got back, he immediately confronted me. He was relatively calm, since he had a bit of time to cool down, but it was still very stressful. I covered for my self in a variety of ways, including describing myself as "having attraction towards people regardless of whether they are male or female." I felt the need to phrase who I AM as something I DO. My mom talked with me about the situation the next day and said, among other things, that he had wanted to tell me there was an emergency at home so he could confront me as soon as possible. She apparently name-dropped "pansexual" during a later conversation with him, but in spite of that he hasn't brought it up since.

I doubt that is for lack of trying, though. He also wanted to talk to me about my political views, since I had been posting a lot of political material to my Facebook page. He is convinced that we have a lot in common. I am not. As you have likely gathered, he is hardcore conservative. He's not openly bigoted against most people, and not quite QAnon territory, but he's out there. I have taken a sharp U-turn to the left. (Exhibit A, my blog.)

The moment I got out of that conversation, I started packing in case I needed to leave. I started formulating ideas. I signed up for campus housing. I made plans with my sister to stay at her house (about 2.5 hours away) if need be. I managed to convince my dad with surprising ease to let me stay with her for about a week (my mom was instantly on board). She is not LGBTQ+ herself (not to my knowledge, at least) but, as previously mentioned, she was very affirming (she was actually the first person I came out to). She has strained relations with my parents (read: my dad) because she left the Church a long time ago, partially due to her sexual activity, and they (he) are convinced that they need to somehow bring her back into the Church (not a chance in hell of that happening). I have been staying with her and her fiancee for the past week.

I do not relish returning (which I will likely do tomorrow evening or Friday morning). I do not want my dad to start probing me. I have already stalled - the original plan was for me to go back yesterday - and I don't think I can stall any more.

Do you have any suggestions or advice on how to proceed? He doesn't even know that Tumblr exists, much less that I have a blog here, but I hate that I am keeping everything secret from him - that I have to. Obviously, it's his fault. I'm up front about it with my sister and with my therapists, and even with my mom. But I have no reason to believe that he will take any accountability for himself. He is convinced that he is doing the right thing, that my sister was a failure (on both his end in "not instilling the gospel in her deeply enough" and hers), that the Church (which I plan on leaving soon myself) is the only way anyone can be truly happy.

How do I avoid confrontation? How do I keep things under wraps? And is there any way I might be able to convince him that maybe, just maybe, he might be in the wrong?

On top of that, I can't help but feel like I'm exaggerating some things, that I am making myself a bigger victim than I really am. I feel this when I am talking with my therapists and I feel it venting to you now. Obviously you don't know my full situation, but do you think I might be overblowing things?

Thank you, and again, I'm sorry for sending such a long ask. Keep doing what you're doing. Your work and advocacy is an immense blessing to us all.

~Red (he/him)

Hi Red,

Thanks for sharing! Never worry about sending in a long ask, I love answering. I obviously can’t provide you with super concrete solutions since I’m not in your shoes, but I do know that you’re not over-exaggerating because for the longest time I thought that I was too. When you’re constantly subject to harassment and judgement, and constantly told that everything is your fault, you start to feel like you’re making things seem bigger than you are. Trust me, you are not.

My advice would honestly be to just lie low for now. I know that it’s hard to hide who you are - believe me - but sometimes it’s a lot easier than confrontation, especially if your father is paying for your college. I’m glad that you signed up for campus housing - you could be out as who you are at school and then only have to pretend around your parents.

I do genuinely believe that people who are homophobic can change, but it takes a lot of time, energy, and effort, and ultimately, it’s up to the person themselves, not you. Until you are no longer dependent on him, I would stray away from bringing up LGBTQ+ stuff. He could eventually come around, but I wouldn’t take that chance while you’re still a dependent.

I’m sorry that you’re in this situation - please stay strong and remember how valid you are.

Love always,

River

#asks #answered #sending love #tw #tw: homophobia

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zikadraws · 4 years ago

Note

If the ghosts bosses got to be reincarnated, what do you think they’d look like in the modern age(I’m talking, like the twisted sisters, Clem(best rat boi), Fishhook, etc)?

Oh boy tough call !✨Sooo let's seeeee...

(*Low quality colouring, drawing and long post ahead (sorry), Click4Quality*)

So let's start with Chambrea and Steward. They gladly took back their human form (Yeah I see Chambrea as Latino/Arabic styled, and Steward as Australian), but less gladly the fact of having to work to not get hungry. They restarted to work in services, although their experience (as for a good part of the ghosts) got them militant, and they are fighting for the service workers to get treated/respected better and better paid (between others). Chambrea (Chãlissia) is the leading type, Steward (Stuart) follows and admires her, and struggles to push their relationship to another level. They already live together.

Then there's Chef Jacques Soulfflé. He of course oriented himself towards cooking, but understandably enough for those who witnessed his cooking, got fired several times, and refused to understand why ; so much that he actually attempted ''Hell's Kitchen'' to prove everyone wrong- and nearly caused Gordon Ramsay, who -figures- spectacularly blazed his @ss, to rage quit the emission. They actually had a private talk afterwards and Gordon decided to save cooking's honour and to give him private lessons. Never did he see a guy so bad at cooking but who genuinely absolutely loved cooking against all. Deserves an effort. Thanks to that Soulfflé got better and found a regular cook post. Yeah I got carried a bit far on this IK. X) Anyway so next-

Morty finally managed to open the cinema class he was planning to open before his death, and he's having the time of his life with this. He takes cheap and everyone in -elementals to elderly- and he is in a 'poor-populated' city part, so he has a lot of volunteers ; as an activity as for an actual class. He loves to communicate his passion with others, is a wonderful teacher open to everyone and loves creating shorts and movies with his students. Some of them actually succeeded as actors or staff or even directors, and often credit him. Although a bit wore out, he is really happy. Plus a good portion of the former boss ghosts like to help him with and star in his productions.

Krüller thought of becoming policeman, but chickened out and went on as a mall guard. He is great with children. He even babysits sometimes. And often stars in Morty's movies, as 'the police chief'. He's satisfied by this repetitive but calm life.

Johnny Deepend invested into an old gym and became sport coach. Between taxes and incomes, it isn't always easy but his easygoing, supportive and friendly natural attitude gets him a nice bunch of people following him and going to his gym. But on the side, he is also very engaged to ban competitions based on showing off the body, knowing way too well how destructive it is for the people, and actually even run conferences about that. He is determined.

Serpci has became a famous social media influencer and practically lives out of it (plus some beauty and fashion sideworks. She customize clothes.). Her Egyptian style, her beauty and aura and her pets snakes got her REALLY popular on any network- and leaves her targeted by many creeps of course, but her merciless way of dealing with them chicken them out (and actually is a way of outcome for her. Blackmail is powerful, but shhh.) She's militant for feminism, and against racism, cultural appropriation and above all, grave robbers (especially targeting archeologists). Remains of her pharaoh shenanigans, y'know.

Dr. Potter searched around and was taken under the wing of an association that fights to save true seeds (seeds that naturally grows back after harvesting and not having to be replaced each time like big corporations like to sell [as] 'necessary'.) He is trusted to keep and grow in number these true seeds, and in return he is taken care of, feed, and has his own house, garden and glasshouse. He is very happy.

The Triplets had to actually go to school for the first time in their lives, and if they managed to get to be adopted together (by one of the bosses, idk for this one), they had a very cynical bad surprise. They still perform during events, to show-off or at parties.

THAT is my human interpretation of Fishook. He lacks an arm and look as what white police arbitrarily view as the embodiment of ''''potential criminal''''; and now that he's human again, he's fucking pissed. As in -he freaking means business. By that I mean, he is entirely, body and soul, engaged to the whole 'Save Marine Life' cause. He raids awareness and direct missions, participates to everything and acts everywhere. Yeah, he works for the WWF. (He is also getting a bit of trouble about his cranky comportment.)

(Yeah, ship time. Why ? Because I can.)

Amadeus Wolfgeist and Clem turned into a couple representation of Tortured Artists ™. (I'll explain for Clem at some point in the future so it'd make sense, pinky swear.)

Amadeus Wolfgeist got his hair back (and I wasn't too sure of what colour to give it but heck it I'm satisfied), but was really pissed to learn that it's hard to make a carrier out of classical music nowadays. He yet decided to keep on it, determined as frick that he was to bring back the golden age, and became an independent compositor, freeing the stress generated from this work by private contract concerts. Despite his talent, he's struggling due to his dissuading stubbornness and is upset to not being able to afford his preferred nobile lifestyle. Clem has spawned up with an hyperactive syndrome, plus of his autistic condition, and is making the most money by having several jobs at the time. As a handyman/plumber, but also as a painter and visual artist, as he finally noticed how much interest and talent he had for that. He draws eyefooling artworks as a living, to situate. He kept his pet opossum and his emotional support duckies. Strangely enough, he hardly sleeps on his own impulse anymore.

They live together (for 'financial reasons' dixit Wolfgeist, y'knooow...) and complete and equilibrate each other. Clem is the one who -ironically- makes the most money, and deals with Amadeus's stress and irritation levels. Amadeus is Clem's impulse control, health, fashion, self-care and sleep schedule advisor.

Sometimes Clem seconds Amadeus on his banjo.

AND THEN, TO FINISH (because I literally, between other things, have no space left) we have Macfrights who tried to get hired at 'Puy du Fou' but got humiliated and turned off, and Phantasmagloria who tried to get hired as a DJ but nuts for several reasons. They both swallowed back their pride and ended up working at fast-foods. They both try as often as possible to play in Morty's movies. Macfrights likes to play the villain.

---

OKAY ! And that was about it for my headcanons about this ask. Very long post, I know but hey ! Dare I believe that it was worth it...?

Alright, thank you for your ask. That was a big one and I hope you are, too, satisfied and wish you a nice day :) .

Aaand thank you to everyone else for your attention 🎵 ! 🤗 Have a nice day~♥️

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starrysupercell · 4 years ago

Text

Second paternal-centric piece, centered on the highly dramatic Graveyard Fam! The patchwork family <3

Do I put way too many serious thoughts in things? Maybe. But I am a storyteller.

Heavily headcanon based that I've mentioned before.

Warnings: mentions of formerly living in a toxic and neglectful environment, and a current abrasive and struggling relationship between Mortis and Frank.

Ask to tag.

🧟‍♀️📱 Picture Perfect 🦇🎧

Emz awoke naturally, opening her eyes, and blinking away the sleep. She stared up at her ceiling blankly. What a good day's sleep!

She pulled her arm from the tightly wrapped blanket around her and slipped it under her pillow to grab her phone.

She held it above her face to replace the ceiling as the point of interest in her line of sight. It was around 1:30 pm. What have people talked about ever since she went to sleep earlier that morning?

She began to scroll through posts, ready to begin her morning regime of giving only a few hearts to a handful of posts, and maybe even one or two coveted comments from her. (It was best to leave them wanting more!)

However, she froze in her browsing when she quickly noticed a trend in today's posts. A long winded paragraph by some random of how lucky they were, a meme about single mothers, grilling pictures.

Oh, today was no day to lay in bed for half an hour before beginning her day! It was Father's Day. Emz twisted around, trying to roll out of her bedsheets.

"Ogh, stupid covers--!" She grumbled despite the fact that she loved twisting herself up in them. It helped her sleep at night.

The zombie rolled too far one way and gave a cut off yelp as she fell clean off the bed and landed on the ground painfully on her stomach. How embarrassing, she huffed, peeved. She slapped the ground in frustration and pushed herself up with the same palm. She sat on her knees and leaned on her bed, fixing her hair with her other hand. Okay, fail, but at least nobody saw that.

Absent-mindedly, the teen brought her phone up again and unlocked it fluidly. She scrolled through a few posts and ended up giving the first like of the day.

"Wait, no," She said, looking up. She had a plan for today and everything! Emz stood up and slipped her phone into her back pocket. First up, the gifts!

She bounded over to her closet and opened it. There they were. Two gift baskets for today. One for her Uncle, and one for Frank. Emz smiled. They were handmade of course, because premade goodie bags were absolutely lame!

As if she would settle for giving anything less than perfection. No, she hand picked what would go into each basket, decorated and placed it to be aesthetically pleasing, and wrapped it up with a gorgeous ribbon. She's even refrained about bragging about any of this online, to keep it absolutely secret. Man, was she just amazing or what? That was rhetorical, of course. She knew she was flawless already.

Like an instinct to survive, Emz had her phone out of her pocket and in front of her once more, camera open. She winked and stuck her tongue out with a smile, and took a picture. She grimaced.

Ugh, she had to go through her morning routine first and then take another picture afterwards. This was a terrible excuse for a selfie. With that thought in mind, Emz stretched properly, and strolled to her bathroom.

"Talk to me, Franklin. You know it's a mutual effort." Mortis said, poking Frank's cheek. He was leaning over the back of the couch where Frank was sitting at. The big guy tilted his head away with a grunt. His eyes were trained on the television as he tried his best to tune out the vampires.

"...Is this still about the dishes?" Mortis decided to guess since he refused to answer. "I'll have you know that I got started on them the other day. But then I got a call that simply couldn't go unanswered." Mortis paused and studied the lack of change in grump level in Frank. Okay. Maybe not that. "...If this is about my bats, I am not making them sleep outside. They like it in here. Only Robata likes it outside." Still no answer. Mortis tapped on his chin. What else could possibly be on his spouse's mind? It was already hard to believe that Franklin was mad at him, but he was just not budging in giving any hints. (Yet again!)

"Ugh," Frank grunted. "It's not just about the dishes or the bats." He started to explain quietly. Mortis leaned in attentively with a small smile on his face. Oh, it was such a rare treat now when Franklin opened up to him. Even if this was about an argument, Mortis adored the fact.

"It's about the fact that you still make excuses for your laziness." He finished.

Mortis frowned. Except for when he spouted spiteful lies and insults! "They aren't excuses! I'm telling you what happened. You know, you're not the only who lives here, Franklin. There's a thing called--"

"Good afternoon~!" Emz called out, stepping down the staircase with flourish.

Mortis ruffled Frank's hair and lowered his voice. "Hold that thought." With a pirouette, he shot a cheerful grin at Emz. "Poisoned Apple! Good afternoon!" The gravedigger greeted. Frank was annoyed, but he held up a hand to wave at Emz pleasantly. With his other hand, he turned the volume down on the show he was watching.

"Hi!" Emz said, stopping right before she reached the bottom. She was using the railing to hide the baskets. "You guys know what today is, right?"

"....Sunday?" Mortis questioned happily.

"I guess so, yeah," Emz said, "But beyond that."

Frank blinked and shook his head lightly.

"It's..." Emz paused for dramatic effect, and then lifted the baskets into view. "Father's Day! Look what I made!"

"Ooh," Mortis smiled, fangs glinting. He held his arms out as Emz walked forward to hand him his basket.

"This is for you and--" she moved on to Frank. "--this is for you!"

Mortis marveled at the items he could see, and turned it to see it from a different angle. The plastic wrap crinkled as he did this.

Frank smiled at her as she passed it over to him. With just a glance, he could already see some of his favorite things in there, he placed it aside and stood, prompting her for a hug as he walked around the sofa.

Emz was wrapped and lifted up in his large stature, pleasantly smiling. "I'm glad you both liked it." She laughed, muffled.

"Naturally," Mortis remarked, "Your craftsmanship is to die for!"

Emz was finally let go by Frank, landing on the floor. "Oh, tell me about it," she smirked. "I stayed up a couple of days ago finishing those up and they turned out perfectly!" She flipped her hair with an obvious flourish. "You can go on gushing," she said, only half jokingly as she brought out her phone to idly glance through any messages.

Mortis laughed in amusement. Frank smiled patiently. Emz was sharp around the edges, but she was endearingly so. As long as she didn't go too far...

"Oh, yeah!" She put her phone away. "You should both, like get dressed up. There's an event on the beach later on tonight, and I was thinking we could go out today. Like... my treat."

"You?" Mortis voiced for both he and Frank. "You have money?"

"Yeah? I save up. Don't you?" She asked haughtily. "Or do you just not want to go?"

Frank gave short laugh, and patted his stomach in jest. Mortis shrugged in amusement, catching on to Frank's joke. "Well, if you think you have enough for Frank, we'll be your guests, sweetheart."

"Oooh, futuristic," Mortis marveled, taking off the wide-brimmed hat he wore as the Trio walked inside. They were at the Zero-Gravity diner. It was a part of Starr Force's attractions.

A bored-looking feline straightened up in attention as the doors slid open. "Welcome, Civilians!" She greeted from her silvery podium. "Feeling low on energy? If you want to help out Colonel Ruffs in his quest against the Dark Lord, you should fill up while you've got the chance." She recited in character, "Luckily, you're safe here, and we've got plenty of foodstuffs that'll fill you up! So, how can I help you today?"

Emz scoffed. Did Kit not recognize them or something? "You could have skipped the spiel. Like, you know that we're Brawlers, right?"

The cat blinked slowly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Okay. What do you want then?"

"I've got a reservation for three, under Emz."

Kit shifted her focus to the high-tech screen right beside her. It was see through. From the perspective of the Graveyard Trio, the images, texts and buttons were flipped.

Kit pressed through a few buttons, navigating through menus, and then confirmed Emz's arrival. "Alright. If you'll follow me." She picked up three devices from her podium, and began to lead the way through the restaurant. Her tail swished as she walked along.

When they got to the table, Kit waited until they were seated and placed the devices in front of the three. "Press the blue button to activate your menus." She said.

Mortis pressed it, and a holographic screen flashed into view, akin to Kit's own screen at her podium. He laughed. "This is spectacular! We should add a horror-themed restaurant to our section. It would be a hit!" Mortis exclaimed. "What say you two?"

"Ooh, that'd be sooo cute! I can run it." Emz said.

Frank grunted, and pressed the menu button. It didn't spring to life like Mortis' did, so he pressed it again, and then once more even rougher. It broke under his strength.

"Oh," Kit reached over. "Sorry about that. You can hand me the pieces, and I'll get you a replacement menu. I'll be right back." Frank did so, a bit embarrassed.

As soon as Kit was out of earshot, Emz laughed. "Our place won't have cheap stuff like here though."

Mortis grinned. Frank was less than amused and gave a shrug. It was simply an accident, and they shouldn't be rude about it.

Kit returned and activated the device before handing it to Frank. "Here you go. While you look through that, what can I get for you to drink?" She asked, readying a tablet.

"I'll have a peach iced tea." Emz told Kit.

"I'll have a glass of Merlot." The mortician decided.

Great. Now he'd have to drive. Frank rolled his eyes, and looked through the sodas.

Mortis looked over at him. "What would you like, Franklin?"

After eyeing the selections, he pointed out his choice. Mortis made a face and looked at Kit. "He'll just have a Coke."

"Okay. I'll get that to you. A waiter will be right out to get the rest of your order." Kit said. She departed from the table.

Emz hummed and stood up. "I'll be right back. Remember- order whatever you want! I'm paying." She reminded, smoothing out the cute dress she wore and then walking off towards the restroom.

Mortis watched her go, and then moved aside the menu device.

"Okay, Franklin. Let's talk." he interlocked his fingers like this was a business deal.

Frank ignored him, swiping through the menu.

"This is a fancier restaraunt. Emz is treating us, and you can tell how important this is to her, can't you? I hope you do."

Mortis paused for any telling gesture or expression, but Franklin remained quiet. The mortician continued. "Well, it'd be great if you'd drop the pettiness, if only for tonight. This is between us, not Emz."

Frank glowered at Mortis. Pettiness? Him? The big guy shoved aside the device now. He was tired of Mortis' tone and habits and everything.

"Don't even think of causing a scene here, Franklin," Mortis tensed up. "Think about Emz!" Frank frowned.

"Here are your drinks, Sirs." the black cat returned. She either didn't notice or chose to ignore the quiet tension at the table as she put the drinks down and then left.

Frank grumpily put his face in his hand. "Fine. But you're being a dick." Frank said.

Mortis was offended. "How!?" He asked indignantly.

"Drinking without even asking me, nitpicking what I want, and those are on top of the bats and dishes. And I bet you're ready with some excuse now too." Frank listed.

Mortis clamped his mouth shut. He was going to point out that it was only one, and that plain old coke at a more fancy place, really? But, that would just prove Franklin right. "Well," he struggled on what to say for only a second before finding a string. "You always keep things to yourself! How am I supposed to guess what you're thinking? You wait and get mad and then out of the blue, you just attack me!"

Frank furrowed his brows and looked aside, feeling a bit guilty.

"Hey!" Emz arrived and sat down, and scooched up in her chair. "You guys are being an itty bitty loud, you know? I'm sure you don't want people staring."

"Uhh..." Mortis said. "I suppose not. So... Franklin." He said awkwardly, trying to think of some different topic. "I think... our Brawl Ball strategy should change." He sighed, disappointed in himself. How weak of a subject.

Emz was puzzled and looked like she wanted to say something. So, of course, she did voice her thoughts. "Weren't you guys talking about, like being mad or whatever?"

"No....?" Mortis said. "Nobody's mad here. Am I right, Franklin?"

"Uh. Yeah." The big guy shrugged.

Emz pursed her lips. "Right... So this afternoon too?"

Mortis gave a tight smile. "This afternoon?" He pretended.

Emz was merciless in completely demolishing this lie. "This morning, when I walked downstairs, Frank was on the couch with the T.V. on. It wasn't muted, even though you were beside him presumably chatting. That's some weirdo way to talk if you weren't mad at someone." She said, matter-of-factly. "You think I don't know body language?"

"...." Mortis was stunned. Frank laughed at the absurdity. She had guessed it perfectly!

Emz crossed her arms though. She waited for Frank's chuckle to die down. "So, what gives? You two are going to start lying to me all of a sudden?" She looked between the two, waiting impatiently for an answer.

".....No." Mortis said finally.

"Then?"

The vampire faltered. "It's just that... well, you know. The discussions Frank and I gave, ah, doesn't have to do with you? So... why involve you?" Mortis managed.

"Okay? But, like, why lie about it." She repeated. She had an inkling about it now, given both of their awkward glances and fidgets. Her sharp tone softened, and she sighed inaudibly. Guess it was sappy truth time.

She looked down at the table, focused on the closed menu device. "I know you two argue. Like. Duh. That's normal. And, I'm guessing that you want to pretend like everything's peachy because you don't want to remind me of... well, you know who already!" She shook her head. "But I'm okay, really. I actually wake up on my own and not from endless yelling, and I'm not picked up hours late from wherever because you never agreed on whose turn it is to pick me up.." Emz paused, feeling quite at unease from sharing this, but pushed through. This was just another step at breaking her own tough shell. "What I'm trying to say is, simply arguing isn't going to remind me of my 'parents.' You two are leagues better, okay? I know you actually care about me. So you dont have to lie to me. Bicker and argue all day until your jaws fall off. You wouldn't be my Uncle Mortis and Frank without it." She smiled up at them.

Mortis had his upper face covered, just about already to cry. "Emz... I don't know what to even say..."

Frank leaned to her and gave her a kiss on her head. "It means a lot, sweetheart..." he said genuinely. Maybe he still had things to learn... He glanced over at Mortis who happened to look up then from his heartfelt pause. "I think I speak for the both of us."

They exchanged a soft smile.

"How about a picture?" Emz asked as she held her phone up.

"That sounds grand," Mortis sighed contentedly. Frank nodded with a smile.

The graveyard family bunched in together to fit into Emz's screen that she held up for all of them. On their way to posing for the perfect picture, their glasses were knocked down. The mixture of the three drinks short-circuited the menus, stained the white tablecloth and started to drip on the floor. Kit was walking by at that moment to check on another table when she saw the damage. That troublemaking team. Her tail swished around dangerously. She pulled a communicator out of her pocket and held it up to talk into it. She never took her eyes off of the Graveyard Trio. "Colonel Ruffs. This is MerXanary Special Agent Kit. Over."

"Roger!" He answered. There were squeaks in the background. No doubt the new Private was fooling around.

"There's Brawlers here giving me trouble. I'm requesting backup at the Zero-Gravity Diner. I'm going in now. Over."

"Willco." Colonel Ruffs confirmed. Kit pocketed her radio transmitter, and readied to Brawl.

Emz's camera flashed, capturing the moment.

#Brawl Stars #Mortis #Frank #Emz #Graveyard Fam #Mortis/Frank #Fortress #Neglect #Toxicity #struggling relationship #ask to tag

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supportivespaceforsurvivors · 3 years ago

Note

is this Devyn's blog?

hey anon, i'm sorry it took me so long to respond to this; between insomnia, work, my birthday, and other personal issues (along with accidentally deleting my initial response in a sleep-deprived lapse of judgement..), i've been pretty low on energy - but hopefully i'll be feeling better soon?

as for your question, it isn't a complete yes or no answer. yes, Devyn is a mod on this blog, and yes, he posts a lot; but nobody 'owns' this blog. all mods are equals; both in the literal sense that we all have to have administrator privileges in order to answer asks, and also that we rely on each other to help with anything we post. we're all human, and as such, we know that we have weaknesses and blindspots; as a team, we talk to each other to help smooth over some of those wrinkles to help y'all the best ways that we can - so even when one specific person's name is put on a post, more often than not, we have all contributed in some way. the reason that Devyn answers things more often than the rest of us is because he simply has a lot more time and energy than the rest of us do, and trying to write a whole response ourselves can be exhausting when you are already low on energy; but conveying our thoughts or opinions to each other for someone else to weave into a post takes a lot less energy. as such, the rest of us on the mod team really appreciate that Devyn is able to answer more often! its not that Devyn is more committed or holds more power than the rest of the mods, just that he's been more available to answer things recently.

and as a side note: we got another ask somewhat along this line of thought, but it mentioned the name of someone who made personal posts on their personal blog - and since i don't want to risk 'calling them out' (for lack of a better term), i don't feel comfortable posting that ask, so i'm adding my response to it here.

i want to start off by saying, we do appreciate when people bring up concerns that they have! giving us feedback on things that might make you uncomfortable or bother you helps us learn how to better help y'all. without feedback, we kinda just assume that we're doing alright - so encourage anyone to give us constructive feedback (i.e., dont just say something like "i dont like [thing] about mod x, fix it" - give us suggestions on how to best fix it!) if something we do bothers you! we wont be upset; you mentioning how we can better help you means that you do care about us, and we would never get upset at y'all for that. and, as such, we do really appreciate that you brought up your issues with us! genuinely our only issue was the fact a specific person was named (which really isnt even an issue - telling us who made the posts helped us find the posts, since we hadnt previously known about them) and we just don't want to inadvertently cause problems for them. we really dont think you had meant to purposefully cause strife, so please dont think we're upset with you!

as for your ask, i get why you would feel that way. Devyn tends to answer a lot and doesn't cushion his answers as much as some of us do, but it isn't due to him not caring or simply wanting the inbox empty - Devyn does care a lot about answering things well, he just prefers to get to the point rather than writing out giant walls of text. rather than try to explain things for Devyn, i'm gonna let him finish up the post by explaining his method for answering asks - i dont want to accidentally say anything that isnt true, but i can guarentee that Devyn does care. if he didn't care, he wouldn't still be here - he does care for all of you, and he does want to help! if he didn't, he wouldn't be putting in the effort that he has been to change how he responds to things in a way that won't upset or trigger people, and he wouldn't put in the effort to try and get input from the rest of us mods. please, do let us know if there's anything else we can do moving forward to help things feel less bad for you. we don't want anyone to feel like they cant be helped or that we dont care for them.

mod berry 💗

---

Hey anon.

I wanted to make sure I also answered this in case you were looking for an answer from me directly.

Originally I had a few paragraphs here essentially echoing what Berry said, but it felt too repetitive and I ended up cutting it out.

We had another ask that we mentioned we're tacking the response to on here. I'm going to copy-paste some of the text from it for context since y'all obviously haven't (and won't) see it, so that my response makes sense:

[...] we wrote in and got a quick response from Devyn whereas previously we got really detailed responses from other mods. It felt like Devyn just sees it as a rush to clear the inbox and not work with other mods. And now this blog feels like his exclusively.

I want to start by saying I understand how how I was pretty much the only one who answered anything during September made you feel like this blog is mine exclusively, but I assure you that's not the case - it just happened to be a particularly shitty month for all the mods here. While those issues haven't disappeared, we should have more availability to answer asks currently.

Secondly, something I think will be helpful is if I walk you through the process of how I answer an ask. I was going to use this one to do that and then proceeded to get distracted and forgot and answered it, so here's a fake example ask. Let's say this ask comes in:

Let's say the question is something any of us can answer easily, like, "How many followers do you have?" That's an easy question and we can all look at our follower count and give you a number. So I click answer.

I always start answering genuine asks with some sort of greeting. Usually "Hey anon," is my go-to. Then the answer. "Oh, we have this many." Then I'll end with a well-wish and my name. Easy enough.

I think part of the issue is that if people ask yes or no questions (like "is my trauma valid?") I'd rather say something short in response, like, "Yes, your trauma is valid regardless of what it is," and sign my name than waste our readers' time and my breath answering with extra words. I just don't see the point in using more words than I need to. I try very hard to make it clear, especially in shorter responses, that I'm not trying to be hostile and am actively aware of my tone. Some answers have more words in them because I always try to make sure to explain what I feel could be misunderstood and that's not always easily done in one or two sentences.

Another thing that might be part of the issue is that Berry, for example, tends to answer asks by grouping paragraphs after which they hit enter only once, and I hit enter twice to start a new paragraph. That doesn't mean Berry's answer has any more actual content in it than mine does, it just might look like that because the format ends up looking more dense in Berry's answer.

Anyway, if someone feels like they want to answer a certain ask but doesn't have the spoons, they can save it with their name to the drafts, which is where a lot of our unpublished asks live. It's like the purgatory of the ask box, because sometimes I put an ask there and sometimes I only think about it. 😬

Asks that go to our drafts aren't ignored, that's just sort of a transition period. If the ask is slightly more complicated, we usually discuss it first in the mod Discord - which you guys obviously can't see. Sometimes if we collaborate on an ask, whoever sees it in the ask box first is the one who ends up answering it, but not always. But we usually just sign those with a single name for sake of ease. If we put all the names of all the mods who contributed any thought to an ask, most of them would have all of our names on them. Also, it's not necessarily accurate to sign my name to an ask if all I'm commenting on is the tone of an ask. Sure, I technically contributed, but I didn't say anything helpful.

If multiple people have thoughts on an ask, usually what we do is one person answers it and the others reblog with their thoughts. This ask is an exception because last time we answered an ask specifically about me that way, it escalated the situation, and we're trying to avoid that.

If none of us know how to answer an ask, we'll usually publish it for our followers' input after a week. I try to follow up about asks that are in drafts pretty often, so usually they don't sit there for a month, but like we've said multiple times, this month has been a bit of an outlier for all of us.

So essentially what I'm saying is that just because you don't see active ask collaboration happening doesn't mean it's not. It all happens in the Discord and, unless you're also a mod in our server, you're not going to see that discussion happening.

Hopefully this helps with the misunderstandings.

Mod Devyn

#ask #answered #mod devyn #anonymous

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fitnesstimesblog · 3 years ago

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Disclaimer: There is no shortcut. If you have more to lose you will have to change your lifestyle drastically. If you only need to lose a couple of pounds you will still need to make some changes. Unless you have a very fast metabolism (which, if you are actively trying to lose weight, you most likely don’t) you will not lose 10 kg in 2 weeks. I am not creating this post as a weight loss programme, it is a guide to help you in making decisions on how you want to lose weight.You need to do this for yourself.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Bad Habits that Make You Put on Weight

Mindless snacking: if you are going to eat snacks take a look at the serving sizes and stick to that. If you have a bag of popcorn actually weigh out the stated portion size into a bowl and only eat that. If you are dieting I would suggest not snacking or sticking to one snack a day.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Low levels of activity, this is bad habit most people picked up during lockdown. People count steps for a reason - it is healthy to walk 10,000 steps a day and if you are trying to lose weight walking 10,000 - 15,000 will help a lot.

Takeaways. It is okay to get a fast food takeaway once or twice a week. A problem arises when people order takeaways almost everyday. I don’t have to tell you why that is not healthy. If you seriously want to lose weight stick to one takeaway a week or none at all. If you do buy takeaway make sure to purchase from the children’s menu as the portion sizes are smaller.

Lack of sleep. I am the biggest culprit of this, but you must get at least 8 hours of sleep a day. The negative effects lack of sleep has on your body seep into every aspect of your life. Turn off your phone at 10 pm and get some quality sleep

Not drinking enough water. Anyone successful weight loss journey involves a person up-ing their water intake. You should be drinking a minimum (and I mean bare minimum) of 2 litres of water everyday but when I am losing weight I like to up my intake to 3 litres +. On the opposite end of the spectrum don’t drink too much water (I know, contradictory right?). Drinking too much water is very dangerous so I would say slowly raise your uptake and never drink over 4 litres a day.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Diet

Disclaimer: There are no shortcuts. When you have more to lose, you need to radically change your lifestyle. If all you need to do is lose a few pounds, there are still a few changes that you need to make. Unless you have a very fast metabolism (which you probably don't if you want to actively lose weight), you won't lose 10 kg in 2 weeks. I am not creating this article as a weight loss program, it is a guide to help you make decisions about how you want to lose weight. You have to do it yourself.

Bad habits that make you fat

Mindless Snacks: When you are snacking, watch your portion sizes and stick to them. If you have a bag of popcorn, weigh the serving size in a bowl and eat it. If you are on a diet, I recommend that you avoid or stick to one snack per day.

Low activity levels are a bad habit that most people develop while in detention. People count steps for a reason: it's healthy to take 10,000 steps a day, and if you're trying to lose weight, 10,000-15,000 steps will do you very well.

Take away. There's nothing wrong with buying takeaway fast food once or twice a week. A problem arises when people order takeaway food almost every day. I don't need to tell you why it's unhealthy. If you really want to lose weight, limit yourself to one or no intake per week. If you are buying to take away, be sure to buy from the children's menu as the portions are smaller.

Lack of sleep. I'm the biggest culprit for this, but you need to get at least 8 hours of sleep a day. The negative effects of insufficient sleep on your body permeate all aspects of your life. Turn off your phone at 10 p.m. and get a good night's sleep

Not Drinking Enough Water Any successful weight loss involves a person increasing their water intake. I should drink a minimum (and I mean the minimum) of 2 liters of water a day, but when I lose weight I happily increase my intake to 3+ liters. On the other side of the spectrum, you shouldn't be drinking too much water (I know, isn't that a contradiction in terms?). Drinking too much water is very dangerous so I would say increase your intake slowly and never drink more than 4 liters a day.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Diet

Of course, calorie control is an important factor in dieting, but it has to be a healthy restriction. I would say never go under 1,500 calories. Very restrictive diets (<1500) are unsustainable, unhealthy, dangerous, and generally a bad idea.

Here are some of my diet "tips" that have helped me lose weight:

Drink soups. Creamy, stringy, veggie-filled, warm, and nutritious soups (can you say I love soups)? Soups are great for dieting because they are generally healthy, high in vitamins and nutrients, and more easily digested. I know that when I drink soups, I don't have gas and never feel that bloated. Serve with a slice or two of French baguette for a light dinner.

Eat five small meals throughout the day. If you limit your calories to 1,500, you can have five meals of 300 calories evenly throughout the day.

By stocking up on vegetables and fruits, you can eat more for fewer calories, such as: For example, eat a 250-calorie muffin or large banana, a bowl of raisins, and a can of raisins (230 calories). Try to get your nutrient sources from low fat options. Instead of getting your calcium from whole milk, go for skimmed milk, yogurt, sardines, beans, and lentils.

Cut down on carbohydrates. Not exactly, but you should try not to eat more than 2 slices of bread a day. Try not to eat more than 2 bowls of rice a day (choose brown rice, it's more nutritious). Eliminate juices, sodas, and other sources of unnecessary sugar. Prepare meals so you can make informed decisions about what to eat

Here is an example of how I ate while on my diet:

6:00 am - a large banana and oatmeal with soy milk 9:00 a.m. - a bowl of raisins and 1/2 sardine sandwich (1 slice of wholemeal bread) 12:00 - a plate of white rice with sauteed chicken breast and vegetables. 3:00 p.m. - Celery, cucumber and carrot sticks with hummus and grilled salmon 6:00 p.m. - Carrot soup with coconut milk and a slice of French baguette

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Exercise

The scourge of my existence. Sorry I didn't come here with advice on the gym and lifting for a six pack. I do not know how. I can only say that if you want to lose weight, cardio helps a lot (in my experience).

Just do cardio every day. Here are some examples:

Swimming (30 minutes) Walking (more than 10,000 steps) Jogging (30 minutes) Skipping rope (15 minutes) Elliptical trainer (30 minutes) Stationary bike (30 minutes) Rowing (20 minutes) Sprint intervals (30 minutes) HIIT, high-intensity interval training I've lost most of my weight through jogging and rowing, and I used to jog for 30-60 minutes three times a week and go to the rowing club twice a week. Remember that every route to weight loss and to the body is different. Find out what works for you.

The key point is that you try to start cardiovascular exercise at least 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, and when you can increase the frequency and duration of the workouts.

General information

As I said, your journey is your journey. Do not compare your weight loss to anyone else's or try to rush the process. Think of it as a lifestyle change. A way to restore all of the unhealthy habits you have developed since you were born. Let it motivate you. Buy a goalkeeper you want to fit into and try on them regularly when you lose weight

That will be controversial. Weigh yourself once a month. Trust me. If you see this number drop after a month of hard work, you will feel a lot better. People who weigh themselves daily can base their diets and emotions on the number on the scales each day when weight loss is a combination of days and weeks of concerted effort.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Be nice to yourself; Allow yourself to make a mistake and start over. You have to give yourself love, not hate and harsh words. Like telling a child who has fallen off a bicycle that everything is okay and needs to try again, the same grace and understanding should be shown. Join a weight loss support group or a neighborhood walking group - having support can be very uplifting and can make friends Occupy. When you're busy, don't eat. The way I maintain my weight loss and not fall into bad habits is to keep busy. Horseback riding, ballet, reading, bowling, gardening, work. Do whatever you can, don't sit idle and you will subconsciously increase your activity and end up eating without thinking.

#weightloss #weightlossdiet #loss #losingweight #weightlosss #weightlossblog #keto #ketodiet #ketorecipes #ketosoulfood #ketomeals #ketoconnect #ketofriendly #ketones

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fanfictrashdump · 4 years ago

Text

Universe in a Jar, 2 - Phase 4 fic

Recap: Some days ago, I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and, I wrote Universe in a Jar.

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, OC

Rating: T?

Warnings: Language! Embarrassing use of euphemisms, mourning, grief, mention of parent death, flirting is you squint, neurological disorders, attempted accidental murder, and typos probs.

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could… he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

Persephone paused at the kitchen entrance, steeling her resolve and gathering the courage to walk past the table to get herself a cup of coffee. The notion that she would have to make herself brave enough to get something in her own home was ridiculous, but her kitchen was currently full of magic beings, as it had been every day for the past week. That wasn't the bit that made her hesitant, not being strictly ordinary herself. It was the man bent over a bowl of blackberries, freshly plucked off of a bush out back, that made her anxious. It was the superimposition of the familiar sight, her friend picking out twigs, leaves and the occasional caterpillar from the fruit, with the dull memory of a storybook villain who laid her whole feelings to waste.

"Morning! There's coffee and I'm making pancakes!" Wanda announced, much more cheery than she had been in a long while. The silence and lack of activities of their little haven in rural Nebraska had given her plenty of time to deal with unpleasant feelings. The witch tossed a half dozen pancakes in the air, all of them flipping perfectly back onto the griddle with no mess. Some people were blessed with better magic than her, Seph realized a little bitterly. "They have blaaackberries!"

"Oh. I, um, yeah–"

Stephen made a small noise of amusement. "I got strawberries for you. I know you think blackberries taste too purple."

She was forced to look up at the face she had been dreading for a whole week. The corner of Stephen's mouth twitched upwards briefly in a not unkind manner. Purple splotches stained the front of his t-shirt, a sight that took her back to days of youth when they would fill their shirts with berries and stuff themselves under a shady tree. Clearly, he had not yet learned another method to carry produce.

"That is not a thing, I assure you," Loki quipped with a smirk. He had helped himself to a book from Seph's library and had kicked his feet up on another chair, watching as the other two tinkered with breakfast.

"I have synesthesia. So, it is, actually, a thing."

She skirted past the men to the coffee maker, pouring herself a fresh cup and helping herself to the milk and sugar that had been left beside it. Wanda was good at this homemaker lark, considering Seph felt like she was an esteemed guest in her own home. Wanda had remarked several times that she liked to make people feel welcome and that she felt guilty for dropping in with the 'Magic Castle rejects' and causing 'unwarranted levels of trauma'. Seph had reassured her that she was fine with the company and it wasn't even bad to have Stephen around, but there was always an edge in her voice and a hint of mistruth in her voice that failed to convince the other woman.

"What in this Midgardian Hel is synesthesia?"

"Mis-wired sensory neurons." Stephen and Persephone answered in unison, startling each other and sharing a long, tense look before she continued. "My taste and sight are a little crossed."

"So your brain is broken." Despite the bluntness of his statement, Loki did not sound mean, more curious.

"More like it perceives differently."

"Mm." He was quiet for a long time after that one hum. The only noise in the kitchen being the sizzle of pancakes and the occasional sip of coffee. "How do you perceive portals? Do you feel the energy and shape it?"

Seph tilted her head in thought. She knocked Loki's legs from the chair and sank into the seat. Stephen and Wanda pretended to be engrossed in their task of making pancakes while they eavesdropped on the conversation. "No. It's like… have you ever seen those forests in a bottle? With like the microplants and worms, and you water it and close it. And it'll basically a self-sustaining entity as long as you don't open it? I see it like that, but the bottle is very flexible and bigger on the inside. Like the TARDIS."

"The what?"

"Time and relative dimension in space. It's a space and time travel machine. It's bigger on the inside," Stephen explained, mixing his fourth cup of coffee of the morning, which did not help with the shaking of his hands but it did wonders to quell his nauseous anxiety.

Loki's eyes widened with excitement. "Where can we acquire one?"

Seph smiled, reaching over to pat Loki's hand. "It's a television show, buddy. It's not real."

"Then why bring it into the conversation?"

"It was a good comparison. I didn't know quality entertainment was so lacking in Asgard." The atmosphere shifted subtly and Seph looked up from her cup of coffee to see all three magicians tense. "What?" More silence followed. Stephen's eyes flittered to Loki and everything made sense. This Loki had not lived through the chaos of moving his people to Earth. She then remembered Wanda giving her an update on everyone a few days ago and how he had not really taken everything all too well… fuck. "Oh. Oh, shit, I'm sorry, Loki."

The Asgardian smiled, a calm, bright expression that looked a little forced. "No worries."

Pushing the coffee away, she angled her body to Loki's and grasped his hand. "It's OK to be sad about losing a home that never truly accepted you, Lo–"

Stephen rolled his eyes and muttered. "Here we go."

Seph groaned, closing her eyes to settle herself. "No one's talking to you, Stephen!"

"Bleeding heart."

"Scalpel jockey."

He scoffed. "You could've done any specialty, chosen any residency–"

"And that's what I did. Not all of us are content hacking into people's heads."

"Not content in making a real difference, you mean?"

"Yes, tell me how that surgical career is working for you right now, Strange!" It was a low blow, she knew, and there was almost a feeling of guilt as he closed his fists to mask the shuddering of his hands self-consciously.

"I'm sure your business is booming. A couple of global catastrophes have probably got the nutjobs flocking to the brilliant psychiatrist, Dr. Hale."

Seph let out a disdainful laugh. "Considering most of my patients are kids who can suddenly levitate shit around their room or accidentally set things on fire, yes. My business is booming. If only the Earth had a protector that would keep global catastrophes from happening and triggering powers in scared kids." She swigged from her coffee and leaned back in her chair. "At least they have someone to talk to."

He slammed his own cup onto the kitchen table and chuckled. "And there it is! We talked almost twenty minutes without you bringing it up, Seph. Good job! You're getting bett–"

His cutting remarks were cut off abruptly, leaving only an odd mutter and the thumping of fist on glass. Around him, walls of a shimmery energy created a box and closed off all noise from the Sorcerer Supreme. His protests sounded like they were coming from underwater, though the walls were clear and solid to the touch. It almost looked like a specimen jar for entomologists–a killing jar.

"He's quiet, at the very least," Loki remarked, turning to give Seph a smile only to find her hazel eyes glowing as if they were leaking light, contrasting starkly with her dark skin. Her hands were shoulder width apart. Distractedly, she tilted her head, curls shifting slightly, and brought her hands closer together. The box rippled, and with it Strange coughed, suddenly panting for breath as he thumped his fist on the wall. "Persephone. Seph. Seph!" The woman showed no signs of hearing him, intensely focused on just the box and her prey. "Wanda!"

Wanda turned from the stove, midway through an eye roll before she dropped her spatula and swirling a large red orb in her hands and directing it towards the glass. The barrier shimmered but barely moved. Loki worked green and golden magic over Seph, trying to break through the blocks in her mind, but was becoming continually distracted by Stephen trying to magic his way out of the enclosure until he slumped forward, breathing shallowly.

"Come on, Seph. You need to let him go. It's not going to help." His eyes drifted to Strange. The sling ring had his magic flicker shortly before dying. Something about that box was not letting him enchant. "Persephone, killing him won't make it better. Believe me. Knowing the person who made you suffer is dead only gives you more grievances."

Wanda surrounded the bottle with her magic. It deformed and shifted, but was no closer to breaking apart to when she started. "I need help and Strange doesn't have long."

"Switch!" Loki turned his attention to the box, his magic making the whole thing shudder.

Wanda had taken his place and was fluttering her fingers beside Seph's temple, red tendrils flowing between them in an effort to access the other's mind. She frowned. "She's… she's keeping me out. How is she doing this? This shouldn’t be possible."

"Impossible is our specialty. Just keep trying." Loki grit his teeth, drawing and gathering his magic and concentrating it in one small, brilliant pebble. With a grunt of effort, he shot the projectile at the glass and a small crack appeared. "Oh for fuck's sake!"

He repeated the process several times until the crack extended and opened just enough for air to flow in. Stephen breathed a little easier but was still looking weak, his skin sallow and pale; lips a sickly purple. With one last growl, Loki’s magic exploded outward, and the box shattered with a spine-quivering screech. He barely had the time to snatch the Sorcerer before he collapsed on the ground.

Seph inhaled sharply, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs from her mind, and opened her eyes to find all three guests staring at her with furrowed brows and narrowed gazes. Her gaze connected with Wanda, who still had her magic at the ready, to Stephen who was hanging off Loki's shoulder, desperately moving air into his lungs, to Loki who just looked concerned. On the floor, shards of shimmering glass rested, shaking to some unknown Universal vibration pattern before disappearing.

"Well, at the very least, he'll know not to antagonize you, now," Loki quipped, breaking the tense silence.

"Loki, no–" Stephen groaned, watching Seph disappearing from the kitchen, her footsteps echoing up the stairs.

About an hour later, Seph heard her bedroom door squeak open. She sat up like a shot and shuffled back against the headboard. Stephen closed the door behind him, his eyes fixed on her shaking form.

"Don't. Just, go back outside. I'll stay here. I–I can't be anywhere near any of you," she rambled, eyes wide and glittering with tears.

"It's a house full of magicians, we'll survive." He placed a stack of strawberry pancakes soaked in syrup on the bedside table. "You should eat. That kind of display… you should be exhausted right now. Why aren't you exhausted?" The question he tacked onto the end sounded rhetorical.

Reluctantly, she grabbed the plate just as her stomach growled. She picked at the pancakes before taking a bite. She winced at the taste, the color was too vibrant, too in-your-face. Stephen had definitely not had a hand in making these. He was terrible, but he remembered details like it was no one's business. Swallowing the bite, she put the plate back, wincing. With little warning, Stephen had pulled her hand towards him, a handful of long scratches etched into her palm, like the shattering of the box had recoiled into her hands.

"What? You hurt yourself and you don't say anything?" He tutted under his breath, bringing the other hand to his inspection to find similar scratches.

"Stop."

"I'll have to get the First Aid kit–"

"Loki, stop!"

Stephen frowned, eyes narrowing. "Loki?"

"Loki. Stop. Now."

The Sorcerer stared for another minute, face tight, before the glamour shimmered and faded in its entirety. "How did you know?"

She turned her hands to tap on his palms, held out steadily to hold hers. "He lets them shake when he's focused on something else. And the food was a little too bright."

"I knew I should've asked him to make it." He sighed, shrugging before gesturing for her hands back. "Let's have a look, pet." After a second's hesitation, she returned her hands and left them to his mercy. His magic stung her palms, but she remained still, occasionally sucking air through her teeth at the sensation of rapid healing.

"I thought you didn't like him." She said, out of the blue, but he immediately understood.

"He's been decent enough." He paused for another moment. "I'm also certain there is some sort of cosmic balance that would gravely suffer if that bother of a human is killed.” He waved his hands in a flourish and grinned. “There we go."

"I'm sorry."

Loki frowned. "What ever for?"

"You guys are supposed to be laying low and recuperating not dealing with a fool with no sense of control."

"No control? Persephone, you wanted to kill Strange."

"Exactly! I–"

"No. You misunderstand me." He leaned down to level their stared. "You wanted to kill Strange. I could see it in your mind but I couldn't break through. You have excellent control. Which is why I had to go for the box and not your mind. I would've had to kill you to break the magic, if I had."

"So, I'm a psychopath?"

He laughed, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "No, dear. You're just very angry at him. I hate to say it, but you might have to talk this through like adults."

Seph frowned. "Have you ever tried to have a conversation with Stephen Strange?"

"Yes. It was painful." He laughed. "He's not unreasonable, though. He's just a bit of a…"

"Control freak?"

He smirked and nodded. "Your adjective is kinder."

"Usually is." The pair glanced over at the door to see Stephen leaning against the frame, arms crossed. "I was always the asshole in the duo."

Seph made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. "Do none of you knock? Were you all raised in a barn?"

Stephen snorted. "We grew up in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska, where we, quite literally, spent most of our free time in a barn. You're lucky we speak in complete sentences given the public education system here."

"I know your mother taught you how to knock, Stephen Strange."

He rolled his eyes, quickly getting frustrated. "And yours taught you how to be polite. We both failed our mothers, it seems."

Seph's eyes flashed briefly and Loki made a warning noise loud enough to break her out of the glowing trance. "Have you learned nothing, you idiot?" Turning back to her, he smiled. "What he means to say is, memories have made him miserable and pent up all week and it’s making him snarky, but he is ready to give up the torture of having you angry at him."

"I haven't been miserable and pent up." Stephen’s tone was indignant and his chin jutted out defiantly. Loki was there to match his haughty tone with one of his own.

"Oh, so the self-immolation in her name was a coincidence?"

"I wasn't–"

She mouthed the phrase to herself several times, turning it over in her mind. Stephen looked fine, little scratches and scars from attempting to wrangle the other two, aside. Her doctorly instincts were not sounding any alarm bells that usually came on when she suspected any type of self harm. Was he maybe mentally torturing himself? "Self-immola–? Oh my god." She could barely look at either of the men. She definitely did not have to know what any of them got up to in the privacy of their own rooms. "Stephen!"

"I wasn't! Are you seriously listening to him about this?" He defended, though there was a jerky sort of nervousness in his movements and his cheeks blazed red.

Loki mouthed 'he was' at her and Seph covered her face with a pillow because suffocating in the fabric was a better alternative to this conversation. "Midgardians are such prudes, honestly. You're a beautiful woman and what I can presume is a source of comfort to him. He was very respectful of you in his thoughts–"

"How long were you watching me?"

"Long enough to respect your endurance.” Movement caught his attention. “Darling, where are you going?" Seph had thrown herself out of bed and was marching towards her closet, only to find that the door wouldn't budge. Same happened to the main door, en suite, wardrobe, even the drawers in her dresser. She wasn't going anywhere and Loki had made sure that every avenue of escape was unavailable.

Stephen scoffed. "Well, I can still lea–" He patted down his pockets and let out a groan. "Loki!"

"Looking for this?" The god held Stephen's sling ring between his thumb and index. "You can have it back when you've made nice."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I am done being in the middle of conflicts. I didn't like it five hundred years ago and I don't like it now. I detest having to scramble to keep her from killing you. This is the third time this week. Every time you anger her, the response is stronger." Stephen opened his mouth to protest, but Loki marched on. "What happens when her emotion and rage outweigh her control? I barely freed you today. Next time, she will succeed."

The Sorcerer rolled his eyes, ever the dramatic soul. "Yes, tell me how you'll weep."

"It'll barely register in my mind but it will destroy her, Strange!" The men’s argument was catching momentum fast, complete with random pointing in her direction and very colorful expletives.

"Could you not talk about me like I'm not in the room?" She murmured, just as the screaming match between the two started to elevate, scuffing her feet on the ground with a pout.

Loki swallowed the, no doubt acidic, retort he had poised on his tongue. "Apologies, flower. I meant no disrespect." He gave her an encouraging smile, holding his hand out to her. "But this is an issue that must be resolved sooner rather than later." After a moment's hesitation, she slapped her hand into his with a sigh and he chuckled. "Don't seem so enthusiastic."

"It's not about holding your hand–," she defended quickly, her eyes rounding with sadness as she fell back into her spot on the mattress.

"I was kidding, darling." He glanced at the Sorcerer. "Stephen."

"I'm not holding your hand, dude," he retorted instantly.

"Good. I've seen where it's been, I don't want it near me at the moment." Seph giggled quietly and Loki looked extremely pleased with himself at the sound. Stephen frowned, jealousy gnawing at his stomach. "Stop pouting, Strange. It's unbecoming."

"He doesn't deal well with negative emotions. So, he pouts a lot."

"I do not!"

"And denies negative feelings. Acknowledging them means he didn't successfully lock them into a tiny chest, wrapped them in chains and dropped them into the ocean."

"You're making me sound like a sociopath."

Seph fixed him with a raised brow look. "Where's the lie?"

Irritation clouded his speckled blue gaze, expression falling into the bored mask he usually wore. "Alright, this was a mistake. Loki, let me out."

"When's the last time you cried, Stephen?"

"Don't analyze me, Hale." His hissed tone would have intimidated a lesser human, but she remained as passive as ever.

"It's a simple question, bud. I want to know how irritating you're going to be through this conversation."

"Does it matter?"

"It makes my point. You've always been awful with expressing yourself because you've convinced yourself that whatever asshole mask you put on makes you seem more mature. If you–"

"Match day."

"What?"

"Match day. I haven't really cried since residency match day. We weren't talking and you went off to Chicago and I stayed in New York. That's when I knew I lost you."

Loki leaned into her and asked under his breath. "When was that?"

"Decade and a half ago."

His eyes bugged out at her before turning back to Strange. "Decad–what is wrong with you?"

"You've had ample crying in the last decade and a half, have you?"

"I've had ample crying in the last ten and a half days. What the fuck is broken inside you?"

"Hey! Be nice!" Seph snapped, glaring at the god.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Abandoned you for your powers when you were at your lowest?"

"Oh. Right."

A long pause followed.

"I didn't know how to go back," Stephen admitted quietly. "I stood outside your building for three months. I could never knock. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on your face when I blew up at you… I knew I couldn't fix it. I still do."

Despite the ice that flowed through his veins, he couldn’t not stare back at the accusatory glare in her eyes. "I flew back home alone."

"I know."

"I identified her body alone."

"I know."

"I buried her alone. She loved you like you were hers and you didn't show up to her funeral, Stephen. I just…" Tears cut off the rest of her sentence, a sob gripping her throat. After a long while, she sniffled, wiping messily at her face. She chanced a look at him, his expression hard and his left eye twitching the same way it did when he was particularly upset about something. Twenty years and she could still tell when he was shoving his guilt down. "You're the one who leaves her flowers." Seph sighed, thinking about the bouquet of violets that were always there whenever she visited her mother's grave, and the fact that in recent times, it seemed like the visits had risen exponentially. Which made sense, since he could open a portal to the other side of the country at any given time.

He shrugged. "You leave mine flowers, too." He sighed, glancing hard at the floor. "I didn't forget my whole damn life just because you weren't speaking to me, Seph."

"To not have been speaking to you requires an effort for you to speak to me, wouldn't there?"

"She has a point."

"Shut up, Loki."

"Just moderating, Strange."

"I was stupid and scared. I went to you for everything. Feeling happy, feeling sad, stressed–you were the go-to for advice. Ironically, the person I would've asked for advice on how to approach you… was you." He forced a chuckle, feeling ridiculous. "Much like, full disclosure, the person I asked dating advice for was also you."

She cackled. "Yeah. No shit, Sherlock. I asked you what your mystery girl liked and it sounded like you were reading from my diary. You weren't exactly subtle."

"I threw in some bad information."

"You said she might be into girls."

Stephen's mouth flapped open several times before he dragged a hand down his face. "In retrospect, yeah, I pretty much described you, but I wasn't sure if you were into both."

"We went on three separate dates, you just didn't fucking notice!"

"And you were attracted to him?" Loki interrupted, eyes narrowed and looking between the two. "Were there no other options in lovers?"

"Shut up, Loki!" They replied in unison.

Seph smiled sadly, her fingers absently trailing over Loki's in an effort to distract her mind. "I would've forgiven you the second you knocked on my door if you had just apologized and meant it. Not something out of obligation or because I was literally your last resort."

"I'm not good at admitting when I'm wrong. You know that."

"Truly a tragedy, considering you're wrong a lot of the time, even if you swear up and down that you’re right," she teased, sounding like a well-practiced jab.

There was a bit of amusement lighting up Stephen's face. "I get one question wrong on a test, thirty years ago and it's all you ever talk about the rest of our lives."

"I also got a better score than you on the MCAT, so…"

He barked out a laugh. "I hate you so much." The smile slowly melted from his face, leaving behind a passive expression. He felt relaxed, less uptight. Whether that was due to the tension in the air lifting the slightest bit or the fact that he could feel her familiar aura as he had for so much of his life, he didn't know. "I'm really sorry, Peep. Leaving you is a regret I'll take to my grave."

Her nose scrunched at the long-forgotten nickname and shook her head, deciding that she knew better than to tell him to forget that endearment ever existed. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you, I guess. In my defense, you were asking for it."

"That's fair."

"Did I hurt you?"

He smirked. "Crushed my lungs a bit. Nothing permanent." He tilted his head. “Why? Is it going to become a common occurrence?”

Persephone's face clouded. "I don’t know, Stephen. It’s a process. I can’t just–”"

“You can’t just forgive him like nothing happened. He understands.” Loki pinched her cheek playfully, leaving her to bat it away with an irritated pout. "Hold your grudge. Keep it for as long as you need, but don't let it poison you. Stupid things happen when you let grief color your perception."

"Whatever. I promise not to murder him, at the least.” Heavy expression fell on the Asgardian, next. “Also, if you ever use the phrase self-immolate in your name, again, I will punch you in the face. I didn't need to know that."

"I WASN'T!"

"I don't care if you did. I don't want to know while I'm still really pissed at you. Got it?"

Both of the men mumbled a "fine" under their breaths before a collective click resounded around the room. They were free once more. Stephen hesitated at the door, his demeanor giving off the impression that he was building up to say something. Seph watched him expectantly only to have him drop his shoulders and turn on his heel, twisting the doorknob to make a hasty retreat.

"Him? Of all people? Really?"

Seph laughed, rolling her eyes. "He was the boy next door. And he's always been pretty hot."

"You can do better." His voice was smooth and rumbly and made her raise her eyebrows.

"I think you mean I can do worse."

Loki smirked. "Norns, I hope you do."

#marvel #MCU #MCU loki #mcu doctor strange #mcu wanda maximoff #Stephen Strange #Loki #Wanda Maximoff #marvel phase 4 #multiverse #original character #we're making it up as we go #MCU fanfiction #mcu fanfic #fanfiction #Universe in a Jar

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missmentelle · 5 years ago

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Hi! I was reading your blog and I noticed that you and your partner are currently separated due to COVID-19. I am in a similar situation: I live in the US and my boyfriend lives in Europe, and we don't know when we will see each other again because borders are closed and neither of us can legally cross either border right now. I am having an incredibly hard time dealing with this uncertainty, and it is making me very anxious and depressed. Do you have any advice on how to cope with this?

(continuation of last ask) my boyfriend and I do talk every day via Whatsapp, which I'm grateful for, but I'm deeply struggling with not knowing when I will see him next and when we'll be able to start a life together. Thank you for all of the great information you provide on this blog, and I'm sorry to hear about what happened in Canada. ♥

Honestly, this is something that I’m struggling with too, and I think it’s uncharted territory for a lot of couples in our situation. My boyfriend and I have been long-distance for a period of time before while I waited for a US visa to come through, but we had a definite end date in that situation - not knowing whether it’ll be May, October or April 2021 before I see him again has been extremely difficult for both of us, and I think we’re mostly just trying to do the best we can.

There are a couple things that I have found helpful, however, for making this indefinite long-distance more tolerable, and they might be helpful for you:

Planning for the future together. Obviously we don’t know the timeline of this pandemic, but we do know that it will end someday, and planning for post-pandemic life can help both of us to look forward to the future, rather than seeing the future as a source of dread. As an international couple that wants to live together, we know that marriage is not really optional for us - especially if we want to settle in the USA - and talking about our plans for engagement, marriage and settling in together helps both of us stay positive, and it makes sure that we are both on the same page about what we want for this relationship. If you’re not at the stage yet where you’re talking about marriage, discussing trips you want to take together or things you want to do together after the pandemic is over can also help you to find things to look forward to.

Playing online games together. My boyfriend and I are both on Steam, and we have a small collection of multiplayer games that we can play together online. Having video games in common is helpful because it gives us something to talk about that isn’t connected to the pandemic or lockdown. There are a lot of fun, low-key two-player games that you can get even if you are new to gaming (things like “Overcooked” are great), and exploring a new hobby together can be a fun distraction. If you really just can’t get into gaming together, finding any kind of new project or hobby you can do together will work - you could start a podcast or webcomic together, learn a new language together, try new recipes together to see whose turns out better, etc. Have things in your lives that make you feel engaged with each other and give you things to talk about other than “we don’t know when we will see each other again”.

Having “dates”. My boyfriend and I schedule times each week to have video calls with each other, or to have “movie dates” where we watch the same show on Netflix with a “Watch Party” program. Chatting back and forth on WhatsApp all day is great, but blocking out actual time to dedicate to one another with no other distractions helps us to still feel like we are an active part of each other’s lives, and makes both of us feel more engaged in the relationship.

Talking openly about worries and insecurities. If you are worried that the time spent apart will affect the relationship or if you’re struggling with worries about the future, tell your partner that. The two of you are in this together, and it’s easier to work through insecurities together. If you need some reassurance or comfort, tell your boyfriend - there’s a good chance that he is struggling with the same things, and just knowing that the other person is on the same page can make it easier to face this uncertain situation.

Limiting exposure to the news and time spent discussing the pandemic. It’s important to be informed and to be aware of changes in public health guidelines, but consuming pandemic-related news 24/7 is not healthy. Watching people speculate about how bad the pandemic is going to get isn’t helpful if you are already having a hard time with anxiety about the situation. Try to limit the time you spend talking about the pandemic or learning about the pandemic to only what you need in order to stay informed - otherwise, try to limit your media diet, and spend more time focusing on other topics.

Taking care of our individual health as best we can. It’s hard to manage your anxiety and cope with an uncertain situation if your general mental health and self-upkeep are lacking. There are a lot of things going on right now that could really impact a person’s mental health - isolation, uncertainty, scary news, money problems, etc. It’s important to put more of a conscious effort into maintaining good mental health than you would under normal circumstances. Keep in touch with friends and family online or on the phone. If you can safely go for walks or get outside while maintaining social distancing, try to do that. Try to keep to a somewhat regular schedule, and eat actual meals rather than grazing throughout the day. If you are an essential worker, take care to protect yourself and communicate with your supervisor if you are struggling. Try to find a hobby or activity that takes your mind off of things. Access mental health resources if you need to - many areas have now set up free hotlines for people in need. Take extra-good care of yourself.

This pandemic may seem huge and daunting now, but it will end someday. We will be back in our partners’ arms and life will return to some semblance of normal. And until that day comes, we will do our best to not just endure our lives in lockdown, but to try to enjoy them as best we can while we look toward the future. Best of luck to you! Miss Mentelle

#Anonymous

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hotfuss · 5 years ago

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imagine thinking a band donating to charities and bringing up issues with a song in the past is enough activism forever. sorry but it doesn’t work like that, especially when with lotf they also profited out of brown/black people’s suffering (as far as we know), activism required a continuous effort until the issue is resolved.

silence is compliance, if you don’t speak up it means you are ok with the status quo and make bigots comfortable in their beliefs. no one is asking tk to become the new rage against the machine but literally the bar was so low: a post on social media showing support and maybe a link to some relevant funds/organizations.

and it’s very telling that anyone who wasn’t bothered by tk silence are all white folk, all people who have the privilege to say “this issue isn’t my problem” and shrug it off their shoulders.

if you praised tlof bc the band stoop up against racism and inequality you should be equally appalled by their lack of action during this time, if you don’t see a problem here you should really question your own privilege that makes you think activism is something you can turn on/off at will. once again the bar was literally on the ground and the whole band managed to fail.

#the killers #brandon flowers #land of the free #there's still so much to talk about this #but i'm so tired and disappointed and heartbroken

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luxfurem · 4 years ago

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@treppenwitzz asked: i need all the deets about your bellatrix... ALSO ANJI i wanna know more about anji | MEME.

So... this ended up really long and therefore it’s under the cut! I sort of left out the “who they could get along with” part but I also feel like that really just depends on verses and such, so we can totally discuss that sometime 🥺🥺🥺

Bellatrix Lestrange

TW for mentions of alcohol, abuse, death and miscarriage

TROPES/ARCHETYPES: The Champion, Femme Fatale

Bellatrix is the very first muse that I officially wrote on indie, but also a muse that I’ve explored in the many group rps I’ve been in in the years before that. Because of that, she’s been through a lot of changing and tweaking over the years, but I like what I’ve got going for her now.

I’m absolutely a big fan of villain characters and I support the humanizing of them because in my mind, it is all the more terrifying that a villain could like the same things as you, could be like you, but be capable of such terrible things. I think it creates a frightening perspective that’s the quiet sort of terrifying, and it’s what I aim to do with Bella. I wanted to create a villainous woman who is powerful without being sorry for it.

I do want to stress that a villain doesn’t necessarily become worthy or deserving of pity or redemption because their story contains sad aspects. In the end, everyone encounters terrible and sad things in life, and it’s what you do with these experiences that matters. If you become bitter or vengeful, that is a decision, and the consequences of however you decide to treat the world after are not cancelled out because of the reason why you became this way.

On the one hand, she is this terrifyingly powerful witch who, despite her comparatively young age, climbed up the ranks of the death eaters to the position of lieutenant at Voldemort’s side, but on the other she is someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s wife. I wanted to explore how these two aspects of her story intertwine, or, in some cases, clash.

My Bella is a bit canon-divergent in that I absolutely refuse to write a woman who’s completely submissive to a man, especially one that doesn’t deserve it. Of course, I don’t want to stray too far from her original arc in that I still believe she’s absolutely starstruck by Voldemort, but she is more interested in his abilities, his mind and his cunning than she is in him as a partner. It’s a different kind of infatuation, where she isn’t all too sure if she wants him or wants to BE him. In time, she settles with neither, and becomes his champion, instead. She’s a knight under his banner, a soldier under his command.

Much of Bella’s arc comes down to a dominant woman living in a society that doesn’t like dominant women. Pureblood circles are catered to the pureblood man, whereas the woman’s job, much like in societies of previous eras, is to bear a husband's children to continue the pureblood line. It’s a crude and sexist thing, and Bella wants none of it. From a young age, she rebels against her father’s firm beliefs in the way things are supposed to be, and rebels against her mother’s attempts to “guide” her back to how she’s supposed to be. She’s the feral child with the holes in her dresses, the scrapes on her legs from climbing trees and running too fast. Her long hair always tangled and messy. She knows that as a girl in the Black family, the highest achievement would have been to become matriarch, but even that wasn’t ever going to be enough for Bella.

When her mother dies, about two years after the birth of Narcissa, the matriarch of the Black family, Walburga, takes over the role for a short amount of time while her father drinks his grief away. After Sirius is born, however, even this steadiness falls away, as their aunt spends her full time caring for him and the second son, Regulus, born a year after. This leaves Bella to assume responsibility for her sisters at the age of 8. Her fights with her father, their temperaments going head to head resulting in situations I don’t really care to divulge about.

Once accepted into Hogwarts is where things start to divert. From one day to the next, her previously always messy hair is neatly combed back into a braid. Her clothes are pristine, not a spot in sight, and her sharp commentary is kept to a minimum. To all those around her, it seemed she had finally heeded her mother’s wishes, and embraced her place in society. But to those who knew her well enough, to her sisters and to her cousins, there was a stubborn fire burning behind those crow-black eyes, burning higher and brighter the more time passed. It was only a matter of time until the fire either consumed her, or consumed those around her.

It was at the age of 17, during her last year at Hogwarts, that Bellatrix was introduced to the Dark Lord. She’d seen him before, of course, but the Black family had stoically kept their stance on the matter of his campaign neutral, although this wouldn’t last. Her fiance-to-be, Rodolphus, who was a few years her senior, had already joined the ranks, and Voldemort’s actions could no longer be brushed off as a mere whim by the family. And Bella, who desired more than the life of a housewife, saw this as an opportunity to lift herself up.

I want to stress that I, as both a Tom Riddle and Bellatrix writer, don’t think their dynamic was of a romantic or lustful nature at all at this point in time, if ever. Voldemort saw the fire and the potential, and decided that he wanted both of these things for himself, for his ranks. She exceeded expectations and he decided that, if anyone was worthy to be his student, it was her. Over the course of the next two years, he trained her in the dark arts, eventually revealing her, at the age of nineteen, to be his new lieutenant. This was met with some resistance, of course. but Bella was quick to silence that. After all, she had risen above her station, and it had taken effort. She was not about to lose that to a bunch of butthurt men.

It’s also around this time that she marries Rodolphus, whom she puts through the ringer for months before and even post-marriage. She hated the idea of being passed from one man (her father) to another (her husband), as if she is nothing more than a possession. The marriage was arranged, and this bothered her, too, considering her lack of choice in the matter. And because she couldn’t exactly fight her father on it, she fought Rodolphus instead. On every turn, hoping he would be turned off and cancel it. After all, a man’s voice, even if he was only an heir, and not patriarch, still sounded louder than a woman’s voice ever would. But it only seemed to invigorate him, pulling closer the more she pushed. As if he were attracted to the fire, wanted to scorch himself just to stand in the light. He never forced her and he never would, even as she refused to let him into their marriage bed for months, even as she taunted him and ridiculed him. The marriage, in time, seemed to grant her a certain freedom that she never had as a daughter of house Black. She could go where she pleased, do as she pleased, pursue her position among the death eaters as she wanted to. She lost her wariness towards him, her anger. And eventually, she learned to love him.

Bellatrix used to be closest to her sister Andromeda. The two of them were, for a long time, practically inseparable, two halves of a whole. It was as if they should have been twins, and what one lacked, the other would possess. Where one went, you could soon expect the other to be. That was, of course, until Andromeda defected. When she did, Bella’s whole world collapsed. Her castle was captured from the inside, by sadness, by grief and by anger at the deceit. Because Andromeda hadn’t chosen her. Had chosen a “filthy mudblood” instead of her own sister, who had always cared for her, always been there for her. If Bella had had a mean streak, before, it was now full blown, a riptide that would destroy everything and everyone that didn’t get out of her way. She was devastated by the loss, and would never quite recover from it. This event had a huge impact on her view on muggleborns. Whereas before she allowed herself a certain tolerance, where she still viewed herself as holier than but limited her disdain to snooty looks and haughty comments, she now was actively hostile, threatening and garnering a reputation among the ranks of the death eaters for her ruthless, cruel actions.

During her marriage, Bella was pregnant exactly 4 times, but all 4 pregnancies ended up miscarriages fairly early on. It’s my belief that her problems stem from the inbreeding within the family and the English pureblood society in general. Contrary to her other beliefs on the woman in pureblood society, she was interested in being a mother and had the motherly instinct to go with it. Her not being capable of bearing children left her feeling devastated and hardened her heart. In AUs where she does have children, whether of her own or adopted, she develops a sort of caution, a knowledge that she isn’t just responsible for herself, but for this child as well. In these AUs, it keeps her out of Azkaban.

Speaking of Azkaban, I usually don’t write about her time there or really post-Azkaban, and this is mostly because I hate the narrative that she’s “crazy”, and I think it’s harmful towards people who have mental health problems. I believe, due to how Azkaban’s dementors suck the happiness out of people and how Azkaban looks like hell on earth, she suffers from a form of PTSD, but she is not “crazy”.

A few loose facts about her:

is bisexual but leans towards men

loves to write poetry, but she never shows it to anyone.

has a very low tolerance for alcohol and barely drinks.

loves coffee and can’t function without drinking it every morning

is obsessed with taking care of her hair. It’s long and dark and very well-maintained

loves to wear red lipstick

forced herself to learn to use her wand with both her left and her right hand

Anji Terryll

TROPES/ARCHETYPES: The Antihero, The Living Legend, The Reluctant Hero

Anji is actually one of my older muses, who doesn’t see the light of day often because I suppose the Skyrim fandom is sort of dead. On top of that, she’s a female oc. i don’t think i’ll need to explain this. Regardless of that and the lack of information I’ve put online about her ( which I actually seek to remedy by writing this ), she’s a quiet favorite who will never disappear from my roster.

I wanted to create a person who fate had been thrusted upon unwillingly. I wanted to create a woman who had never planned to do anything that didn’t benefit herself in life. Anji’s early life consisted of what was barely a life at the orphanage in Riften, where she watched the Thieves Guild lift jewelry from a man’s pocket with the man none the wiser. She never entertained the idea of being an honest worker, because she’d seen how the jarl treated honest workers. Of course, she knew that if she were to be caught thieving, the storm she’d call over herself would be worse, but that was only if she was going to be caught.

So she got herself into the Thieves’ Guild, worked her way up the ranks to Guild Master, before, near the border, she was caught stealing a horse and shipped off to Helgen, where the main story begins.

Anji is, from the start, reluctant about her supposed fate. She never believed in prophecies and rarely in Gods and now, everything was real, everything was true. And she was the main character of a legend. Thrust into a role she doesn’t think fit her. She isn’t who these people deserve, a thieving woman who serves only her own benefit. The people deserved a selfless knight, advocating for the survival of mankind, believing so wholly in oneself that they could overcome a legendary monster like Alduin the World-Eater. Someone who isn’t her. So she rejects her abilities, rejects her destiny, and pretends for months that she isn’t the one the Greybeards are calling from the Throat of the World.

And for a time, it works. For a time she can focus on the physical gain, the money she earns, the reputation. But in the back of her mind, the knowledge scratches at the door she keeps it behind. She sees the destruction the dragons are causing all over Skyrim, the terror of the people. The loss of morale. She tells herself that she decides to see what these Greybeards have to say, if only to tell them they’ll need to find someone else.

But she comes to learn that there is no one else. There is only her and her bow, and her lack of morale, against an ancient dragon.

Anji is the Reluctant Hero, the Unlikely Hero, not the woman you’d expect when one mentions the Dovahkiin. She’s slight and flighty, quick as a whip with her twin blades, relying on speed above strength. She prefers sneaking through the shadows instead of fighting her way through boldly and openly, and she never starts fights she can’t win. This doesn’t mean she won’t kill, and doesn’t mean she won’t use her powers, even for personal gain. She enjoys the power of the Voice and, as lore suggests, overtime grows more and more powerful (think: her voice can at some point burn the ice off a mountain), but she hates the responsibility that comes with it and will never fully accept it. She’s practical and quick-witted, more on the serious side of the spectrum, although she possesses a funny streak that only shows up in intimate settings ( think: close friends/guild/lovers ) or when she’s completely drunk. She observes each angle of a job or mission before proceeding, wanting to be ahead of each trap she might run into.

A few loose facts about her:

is bisexual but leans towards women

has absolutely no interest in bearing children, adopting is fine though

favors her bow over her twin blades

carries two daggers in each boot

In some verses she can be a werewolf for absolutely no other reason other than that i can

in modern verses she owns a martial arts school

Play smart not hard

#*✧･ﾟ OUT OF CHARACTER.#*✧･ﾟBELLATRIX LESTRANGE.#*✧･ﾟ ANJI TERRYLL.#treppenwitzz

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andorwhore · 5 years ago

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Saudade - I of VII

Chapter I of VII: Disdain

summary: A year in the life of a rebel with a cause and a rebel in search of one… chapter one: Of all the days for a slicer to break into the wrong ship, today was by far the worst.

author’s note: Here we go, chapter one! This story has been my baby the past few weeks as I’ve worked on it, and I can’t wait to share the finished product with everyone! I’ll mention it again here since I’m sure most readers haven’t seen my preview post -- the name Jai that’s featured in the fic is pronounced Ji (like pi), rather than as Jay.

pairing: Cassian Andor x OC word count: 10,610 (i would say i’m sorry but i’m not) rating: T, eventual R warnings: none (yet)

chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four

[ff.net] [ao3]

Setting foot on the Ring of Kafrene always posed a risk for Cassian Andor. The Ring, being an Empire territory, was always crawling with stormtroopers just waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey, whether that prey be a rebel or a petty street thief. The trading post was home to Maker knows how many people and races, dense with the traffic of travelers and traders alike no matter the time or day. Cassian was lucky, having not yet encountered any problems with the resentful soldiers, but, then again, he was well-versed in how to keep a low profile, how to evade the Empire forces on each street and lingering outside every shop, how to simply blend into the crowd as if he were any other visiting trader; many of the other rebels he knew through the years weren't quite so lucky.

Cassian had arrived at the Ring of Kafrene not but an hour ago to meet with Tivik, the Rebellion's informant stationed in the colony who, although endlessly trepidatious, was almost always reliable. For months now Cassian had been making routine visits to the Ring to collect intel, each visit bringing the Rebellion small steps closer to being able to take on the Galactic Empire. Many times, Tivik had information that really served little use to Cassian, however, he could never know when a meeting would be a hit or miss.

This particular visit was a miss; all Tivik could provide was information the Rebellion had already known, and though he made no show of chiding Tivik for wasting his time, Cassian was nevertheless miffed about the wasted trip.

Cassian maneuvered through the crowded streets focused and in silence, avoiding any of the usual Kafrene distractions he'd grown accustomed to encountering. The colony was disgustingly overpopulated and became temporary residence for far too many travelers on any given day, drawing the attentions of thieves from every walk of life, whether they be petty pickpockets just looking to grab a few tradables or accomplished slicers intent on draining someone's account of all their credits. Whatever the case, Cassian was careful to avoid everyone on the Ring, both merchants, pedestrians, and thieves alike.

Cassian was so focused on returning to his U-Wing that he hadn't taken immediate notice of the KX security droid walking down the intersecting street ahead of him, though it didn't take the captain very long to spot the robotic eyesore amongst the crowd. It could have been any other KX droid, which there were a small number of in Kafrene, but the slight alteration to it's gait would clue to anyone in the know that this particular model was in fact the reprogrammed K-2SO.

Cassian's brow furrowed as his jaw set, approaching the droid - he was supposed to be waiting back at the ship, but, in true fashion, the droid elected to ignore that particular direction. Trips to Kafrene were always easier when the captain went on his own, but on occasion the droid insisted on tagging along despite Cassian telling him each and every time to just stay on the ship.

K-2SO had already noticed Cassian's approach, and once the man was close and readying to scold the droid as if he were a disobedient child, Kay spoke up first, "There seems to be a particularly high count of stormtroopers today, Cassian."

The captain hadn't made the same observation as the droid, but he didn't allow the statement to distract him from his intent, "I told you not to leave the ship."

"Yes, well, I have a bad feeling about this increased Empire presence, you're better off with me nearby if conflict were to arise." Cassian stared hard up into the eyes of the droid for a few long moments before peeling away his gaze, looking around to assess the number of stormtroopers currently in their proximity. At the moment, he could only spot a pair far down the street that he'd just walked up - he figured that wherever Kay may have noticed the excess stormtroopers had to be nearer to the colony's starport.

"Do you not think your presence might draw their attention to me?" Cassian questioned while turning back to Kay. If a droid could make an expression, Cassian was sure K-2SO was looking down at him with something akin to ridicule. Even the way the droid raised his arm, hand pointed in the direction they'd have to walk to return to their ship, seemed somehow mocking.

"Go, walk ahead, I'll keep my distance." Kay spoke with attitude, to which Cassian side-eyed as he passed by the droid to lead them back to the ship.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The starport on the Ring of Kafrene was every thief's dream. Ships of traders, merchants, and everything in between were left relatively unattended, any security could be bought off if one had the right connections, and, if one was smart, they could make off with thousands of credits worth of goods. As ships improved and as droid security began to take over, it became more and more challenging for the average thief to get out of the port without being caught, but that meant less competition for the slicers amongst the Ring's residents.

Slicers weren't all that easy to come by on the trading colony. Actually, good ones weren't easy to come by - any amateur that somehow managed to get their hands on scramble keys suddenly started calling themselves slicers. And those were the same amateurs that got themselves thrown into a cell within hours of proclaiming, with severe overconfidence, that they had the skill to hack anyone's computer. No, the thieves drawn to the Ring of Kafrene very rarely had the aptitude for hacking, but then again, the colony wasn't exactly a prime destination for codebreakers to begin with. Slicers were far better suited for the Outer Rim Territories, on planets like Cantonica or Nevarro, where their skills could be put toward big jobs, where they were less likely to be harassed by any kind of authority. To be a slicer in the Expansion Territory was practically asking for trouble, asking for stormtroopers and the Empire to toss one behind bars without mercy.

However, there were a rare few slicers that could get by particularly well on the Ring of Kafrene. One of those infamous slicers, who managed to somehow be renowned in the slums of the colony and yet never encounter any trouble from the Empire, was named Tillian.

Tillian was a man known only by that one name, and very few had the pleasure of learning anything about him beyond that. As far as slicers went, he was arguably one of the best throughout the entirety of the Expansion Territory; and despite his criminal activity, Tillian had the consideration to share his skills with a select few that he saw potential in through the years. And one of those few was Jai'ren Tillian.

Jai was a young woman of unknown origin, but of well-known talent among the underbelly residents of the Ring of Kafrene. She may not have been a strong thief in comparison to all the competition that loitered around the colony, but where she lacked in pickpocketing, she excelled in hacking. Of the half dozen or so that Tillian had trained through the years, Jai proved to be the most apt for the talent of slicing, even from an early age.

Currently, Jai was taking the risk of breaking into multiple ships crammed into Kafrene's overcrowded starport. This wasn't her first, nor did she intend for it to be her last, visit to the port, slicing her way onto ships of all classes and sizes; Jai found that, for her, it was far easier to focus and get a job done when she wasn't distracted by the hustle and bustle of the cramped trading streets, and the risk of sneaking into the parking port was well worth the quiet she needed to get her task done.

Jai had just unlocked a third ship, stuffing her scramble key into the inner pocket of her coat while pushing a stray strand of ashy brown hair back up into her cap, careful to avoid shifting the goggles situated atop it. She threw a cautious glance back over her shoulder, bird-like eyes searching and ears listening to ensure no one had taken notice of her. With a satisfied expression she quickly ducked into the U-Wing and closed the door behind her to avoid any unwanted attention.

Jai stood in the hull, realizing that, despite the appearance from the outside that the ship was large, it's interior was actually a rather cramped space. Nibbling the inside of her lip, she eyed the hull left then right; she realized within a few moments that it didn't look like there was all that much lying around that would be worth anything to her. There were hardly any compartments or cubbies for storing goods, and it looked like the only serious computer aboard the ship wasn't used for much more than tracking whereabouts and sending messages. She let out a derided sigh while sliding her hands into the pockets of her worn pants, fingers toying with a small box she'd grabbed from the last ship she broke into just minutes prior.

'What a waste,' she thought, her eyes scanning the ship again in slow consideration. It looks as if she put in a lot of effort for a whole lot of nothing. But she might as well search for something, anything, to at least deem said effort reasonable - maybe, despite appearances, she could get her hands on something good.

"Right," Jai spoke aloud to herself, extracting her hands and lazily cracking her fingers down in front of her hips. She climbed up the couple of steps into the cockpit, eyeing the equipment briefly before checking every crack and crevice for some kind of valuables. After a minute, she stepped back down into the main hull of the U-Wing, eyes scanning more astutely to make sure she hadn't missed anything obvious. This ship's interior was so small, there was hardly space for much of anything; Jai noted that it would probably have felt cramped if there were any more than four or five people aboard.

As Jai considered the size of the ship, she looked down at her feet, studying the metal floor for a few long moments before her lower lip pushed out appraisingly - unless her eyes were deceiving her, it looked as if some of the floor panels lifted. Jai dropped to one knee to test her theory, finding that there was, in fact, a handle that she twisted to unlock. But she was all too quickly disappointed, finding that what was hidden under the floor was nothing more than a row of collapsible seats. With another frustrated huff, Jai pushed back down and locked the handle back in its place.

And at that same moment, the door to the U-Wing suddenly slid open.

Jai's head shot up so quickly that her cap and goggles nearly fell from her head, her coal eyes wide as they locked onto a man a few years her senior. He was frazzled as his harsh stare burned into her, panting deeply to catch his breath as if he'd been running at top speed. The surprise in his expression upon seeing the unexpected intruder quickly gave way to a look of vexation, brow knotting as he quickly stepped up into the ship, causing Jai to jump to her feet in panic. Her eyes briefly darted past the young man with alarm as she heard the sound of blasters, spotting a KX security droid not far behind. Blindly, Jai's hands fumbled along the wall behind her in hopes that she could somehow find the button to open the second hull door.

With surprising speed, the man jumped forward, slamming Jai against the wall and knocking the wind out of her, one hand putting pressure on the base of her neck and the other roughly gripping her at the elbow of one arm. His voice came out in a loud, rough growl, "Who the hell are you!?"

Jai's hands flew up, one gripping at the hand on her neck, the other to his chest, roughly trying to shove him away. Her black eyes shined with the same intensity as his own as she glared.

"Get off me." She hissed as she heard the droid clamber into the ship, heard the sound of blasters multiplying and growing closer. Tightening his grip on Jai, the man spun them around and shoved her back, Jai stumbling on her heels a few steps until she bumped into the KX droid, expecting it to immediately apprehend them both.

"We have to get out of here." The man spoke urgently to the droid, ignoring Jai as he took a defensive stance up against the wall and out of the line of fire, which had come to a momentary pause, "Get her the hell off my ship!"

Confusion pulled at Jai's expression - this man, who certainly wasn't with the Empire, just gave an Imperial droid orders? The droid interrupted her train of thought as it's large hand dropped onto Jai's shoulder, fingers roughly digging into her skin and causing her to let out a nearly feral hiss. Once more, she was momentarily disoriented as the droid spun her around on her heel, Jai tripping forward from the motion. Her wide eyes stared ahead of her with dread, eyeing the wall of rapidly approaching stormtroopers as they started taking aim once more, assuming her to be a part of whatever kind of trouble this man had stirred up. Jai sharply inhaled as she realized just how deeply she was in over her head.

Panicked instinct took over as Jai attempted to rip away from the KX droid, managing to roughly yank herself away from it's one-handed hold; but she wasn't fast enough to avoid the blast from one of the more trigger-happy troopers, who had misread her quick movement and assumed she was preparing to take action against them.

Jai's abdomen was suddenly searing with pain, as if someone had doused her insides with gasoline and set them on fire. A ragged scream ripped from her throat as Jai collapsed backwards from the impact into the droid before falling to her knees, grasping desperately at her stomach as she dropped.

Though the moment had only lasted a second, to Cassian it was as if it all moved in slow motion. He saw how rapidly this woman's eyes went from anger to panic to pain, how roughly she was shoved back from the power of the shot, and heard how heavily her knees collided with the floor. In that split second he had to make a decision. Did he shove her out onto the port to be left to the stormtroopers' mercy, or did he close the ship door with her still inside? She could have been just a small-time thief… but what if she was a spy? She needed medical attention - maybe he should help her. But if she was a spy… he could always bring her back to Yavin 4 and throw her in a cell for a little while.

In that second of thought, which weighed on Cassian as if it had lasted minutes, he thrust his hand onto the button to close the door before clambering up to the cockpit at top speed. Just as quickly as the door hand closed, the stormtroopers outside started to take fire, their shots ringing out against the U-Wing's metal exterior.

"We need to get out of here now, Kay!" He called authoritatively to the droid that still lingered over the woman, "We'll deal with her later."

Jai cursed under her breath as K-2SO moved to join Cassian in the cockpit. From where she knelt on the floor, curled into herself as she tried to ignore her pain, Jai turned her tear-stricken eyes up in the direction of the pair, her anger bubbling - she got shot because these two assholes did something to piss off the troopers. The fact that they were flying out of the Ring of Kafrene wasn't even a thought in her head as Jai tried to push herself up off the floor, resulting in another agonized shout to leap from between her lips. The sound called Cassian's attention, and he turned in his seat to stare sharply at the woman as she tried to fight against the pain racing through her. He met her eyes, momentarily perturbed by just how pitch black they appeared; the darkness of her eyes made the intensity of her glare all the more fiery and challenging.

Once the ship was a safe distance from the Ring of Kafrene and Cassian was certain Kay could handle the flight back to Yavin 4, he grabbed the medical pack from behind his seat and jumped down to assist the woman, particularly uninterested in having her bleed out on the floor of his U-Wing. Jai had managed to get herself propped up against the wall, slouched with the pained glare never wavering from her features as she watched Cassian approach. He held eye contact sternly, unphased by the harshness being sent his way. For a long moment, he simply stood above her, assessing Jai with a careful eye.

"Who are you?" He finally questioned, remaining firmly where he stood as Jai's gaze briefly flicked down to the medical kit in his hand.

"None of your business." She answered through clenched teeth as she tried to hold back another groan of discomfort.

"If you'd like me to help you, it is my business." He saw the woman peer at the medical bag again, obviously battling with herself over whether or not she should answer his question, "Why the hell were you on my ship?"

Jai clenched her lips tightly together as she studied the man before her - who the hell was this guy and what sort of trouble did she unintentionally get wrapped into? He had to be someone far worse than her if he had attracted the attention of every damn stormtrooper on Kafrene, which eliminated him from being any old thief or cheat. Jai assumed his ship was another obvious clue as to his affiliations, however, she knew very little about ships aside from how to break in and out of them so she could deduce nothing from it. Chances were he was a murderer or a rebel or some kind of conspirator against the Empire. Maybe even all three.

Jai gave a sudden, sharp inhale as her pain seemed to peak yet again, clenching her arms tighter around herself as she clamped her eyes shut. Cassian gauged her reaction with apathy, having decided that, until proven otherwise, he had to assume her an affiliate of the Empire to err on the side of caution. What other explanation was there for her presence aboard the U-Wing at the same moment that the stormtroopers attempted to apprehend him?

"Unless you start talking, I'll let you bleed until you pass out, and then we're dumping you on the nearest moon whether it's breathable or not." He spoke assertively, jaw tense and eyes authoritative. Jai's eyes opened a little weaker than before, agony beginning to wash away her defiant expression, "Did the Empire send you to my ship?"

Despite her discomfort, Jai gave a mocking and surprised huff, the corner of her mouth tugging into an offended grin, "The Empire? You think they'd hire some street rat to break into your ship?"

"Maybe you're just undercover." Cassian crossed his arms as he studied the way Jai's body began to react to her injury, how her breathing came out in shudders, how her skin began to pale, how her forehead glistened with sweat - she probably wasn't going to remain conscious all that much longer, "Look, you're not likely to make it either way, so you may as well admit the truth."

"What?" Genuine concern took Jai's expression at the prospect of possibly dying from this injury; she jolted from the fear, causing pain to course through her abdomen again. Cassian's brow quirked at the reaction - maybe she was just a run-of-the-mill Kafrene thief.

Jai's hand started fumbling in her coat for a moment, to which Cassian cautiously stiffened, loosening his crossed arms just enough for his free hand to linger a little closer to his blaster. She extracted what appeared to be some kind of small electronic chip, holding it in his direction a moment before dropping it into her lap, going back to pull a jewelry box from another pocket.

"I promise you, I'm just a thief," Her voice had begun to sound a little rough as she let her head drop back against the cool metal wall, "Just a thief who was looking to get some good steals; I'm not with the Empire."

Cassian stared into her worried face for a few moments longer, his brow furrowed as he watched for any nervous ticks or odd behaviors. But he spotted none, simply recognizing the desperate plea in her eyes, "… Okay."

He unfolded his arms and crossed the last few feet between them, taking a knee while opening the medical kit. A relieved inhale slipped past Jai's lips as she closed her eyes, attempting to even out her rocky breathing. After a few moments of rummaging, Cassian gave a curse under his breath - they were out of bacta spray. They must have forgotten to restock the kit after their last mission, and now he couldn't properly assist this woman.

His eyes swung back up to stare at Jai, resting his hands atop his knees as he thought - he had no choice but to bring her back to headquarters medical, because he surely couldn't turn around and try to drop her off with some doctor back on Kafrene. If he didn't bring her back with them to Yavin 4, there was no guarantee she'd get the proper help she needed, and Cassian wasn't interested in letting an innocent woman die because of him, even if she is a thief.

Jai realized Cassian had come to a pause and she opened her eyes, tiredly looking over at him expectantly, "… I don't have the supplies I need to fix this. I might have enough to hold you over until I can get you medical attention, though."

"Might?" Her voice was weaker, but her fear was no less obvious.

Cassian nodded, "I think I have painkillers and antiseptic, but that's not enough to fix this."

"You're saying I might fucking die because your med kit is inadequate?" Jai's voice was breathy, but her words still managed to carry some bite to them as her eyes darkened again.

"If we make it back to base on time, no." Cassian answered simply while reaching into the pack for what little supplies he did have to offer. He turned his head toward the cockpit slightly while calling out, "Kay, get us back as fast as you can."

"Is it really wise to bring her to headquarters?" The droid questioned as Cassian moved closer to Jai, holding the painkillers out to her.

"Where and what the hell is headquarters?" She questioned while taking the medication; her expression looked as if it were stuck in one of twisted discomfort.

Another hiss from Cassian as he dug around in the bag - no disinfectant either. This wasn't looking good. Despite that, he still dug out the bandages, though he knew they wouldn't do as much good as they could if he had antiseptic.

"Headquarters is none of your business." Cassian echoed Jai's earlier words back to her; though her energy was progressively growing weaker and weaker, Jai still managed to narrow her eyes suspiciously at the man. She prayed that she wasn't about to be dragged off somewhere awful and alarming by this stranger and his damned droid.

"Hm, that's not very reassuring…" Jai's voice came out far quieter than she had intended. Cassian watched Jai closely as her head started to loll a little, and instinctively he reached for her, knowing that, although her falling asleep could be no problem, it could more likely lead to her body caving to the injury. He rested a hand firmly on the back of Jai's head and lifted it, meeting her lidded eyes.

"You stay awake as long as you can, you hear me?" Jai gave him a tired nod, "Tell me your name."

Silence lingered between them for a few long moments as they stared at one another, "… Jai."

Cassian gave a single, slight nod, "Jai, we're going to Yavin 4."

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Jai wasn't sure if she had passed out or if she had simply become too delirious with pain, because she came to realize she was lying in a hospital bed without any recollection as to how she got there. She awoke groggy and confused, though nonetheless she felt well and without pain despite knowing she had been shot in the stomach. For a long while, she simply lied on the cot, eyeing the room around here, listening to others moving around and chattering softly. She was in a hall that was obviously converted to be some kind of medical wing, with cots lining the wall on both her left and her right. The only other people in the room were, what Jai assumed to be, a medic and a patient at the far end of the room, the patient sitting on the furthest cot while in discussion with the medic.

After spending a few minutes observing the room and recalling the events that led her here, Jai sat up slowly, groaning slightly, though for the time being she was in far less pain than she had anticipated. The supposed doctor spotted her right away, and excused herself from the patient after a moment, approaching Jai who was rotating her head left and right to work out her neck muscles, hearing a chorus of satisfied pops go up her bones. Her eyes watched the medic's approach casually as the patient rose from his seat and slowly left the room.

"It's Jai, isn't it?" The second woman started once she came to a pause at the foot of the cot, the corner of her mouth pulling into a practiced, cordial smile, receiving a nod from Jai, who was now carefully stretching her body to test out the feeling in her abdomen, "I'm Miona. You remember why you're here?"

The question was asked as if Miona already knew the answer, as if she could tell Jai had a relatively clear memory of everything that went down on Cassian's ship. Despite that knowing tone, Jai gave a second nod anyway.

"Some guy and a robot got me shot, and they brought me back here." Jai's voice was scratchy from disuse. Miona accepted the response, hearing the attitude in Jai's tone and knowing it meant the other woman could remember a lot despite saying very little, "So, where I am, and what the hell is this place?"

Miona was, however, surprised by Jai's bluntness, not expecting the woman to jump into questions so quickly. Miona could still see in Jai's dark eyes and hear in her tone that she was tired, but she had enough sense about her to get to the important matters.

"Are you sure you don't want another few minutes?" the medic asked, though she already anticipated the response she was going to get - after working as the head medic for the Rebellion, she had become accustomed to patients waking, rising, and questioning quickly without regard for their condition. The pilots and spies Miona had dealt with through the years quite often sprang back quickly from treatment and didn't like to waste time. It looked as if this woman was going to do the same.

Another shake of Jai's head, "I don't need another few minutes."

Miona gave an accepting nod, taking a seat on the cot next to Jai's, "You bounce back like someone who's been in this position before."

"Well, I've never been shot," Jai turned to face Miona, moving her legs so they could hang over the edge of the bed. She felt the first noticeable jilt of pain in her abdomen, but it was nothing compared to what she felt aboard the U-Wing, "but a couple broken bones through the years toughen you up a little. How long was I out?"

"Nearly two days," Miona began to explain, "Captain Andor got you here as fast as he could. You're lucky, if it had been much longer the injury might have gotten too severe."

Captain Andor. So, now Jai had a name for the face, though the face in her memory was already a touch fuzzy.

"Lucky me." Jai muttered as her eyes scanned the room again curiously, "And where is here?"

Miona paused and considered - she spoke with Cassian when he dropped off the injured woman, and he hadn't given her any warnings about what she should or shouldn't say to Jai. All he asked was that the woman be supervised once she awoke, and that they return her to the Ring of Kafrene as soon as possible. He also mentioned that she was a thief and that they should be watchful of that habit, but he said nothing to suggest that Miona keep their whereabouts a secret from her.

"Yavin's fourth moon." Jai shook her head with raised brows, obviously unfamiliar with the planet, "You're in the Outer Rim."

Jai mouthed the word 'oh' in understanding, eyes becoming a little lighter with both interest and concern - she'd never been this far from home. In fact, she could count the number of times she'd left the Ring of Kafrene on one hand. To say she felt nervous was an understatement. The realization that Jai was on some far off moon surrounded by strangers that she didn't know if she could trust suddenly hit her full force, and her heartbeat picked up an unevenly anxious pace.

Jai's eyes widened with her worry, and her fingers clenched into nervous fists. Miona quickly spoke up, trying to ease the anxiety, "Jai, you're with the Rebellion."

Miona hoped that was the right thing to say. Neither she nor Cassian knew anything about this woman, and for all she knew her statement could potentially worry her patient even more.

Jai's brows knit together curiously, and lucky for them both her unease calmed a little. So, this Andor guy was a rebel - that was certainly better than some of the other ideas Jai had been speculating.

The Rebellion wasn't something Jai had ever paid much mind to, not when she was a kid and not much now. Growing up on the Ring of Kafrene, one became used to the presence of the Empire monitoring the trading post and it's connecting routes, and Jai was raised to worry about herself before worrying about the concerns and needs of a whole. Sure, she knew to be there for her siblings should they ever need, and she knew to help others if she saw that they deserved it, but Jai never thought about the concerns of the entire galaxy. The rest of the galaxy just wasn't on the minds of those from Kafrene, who had learned life wasn't so black and white, had learned to coexist with both the Empire presence and with the rebels that crossed their paths.

Jai was certainly not for the Empire, though she wasn't necessarily sided with the Rebellion either. Being someone that grew up learning the ways of crime made her relatively impartial to the conflict - either way, whether under Empire control or Rebellion restoration, she would still be a criminal.

However, she could appreciate the sentiment of the Rebellion. To Jai, though it sounded as if their cause was rather idealistic, it was something good nonetheless. Sometimes she had caught herself wondering what her life could have been if the Ring of Kafrene wasn't Empire controlled, if the Alliance had knocked them down years ago and rebuilt the galaxy. Would Jai still be a criminal today, perhaps locked behind bars? Or would her life have taken a different route? Jai liked to think that she was supposed to become a slicer no matter who was running the galaxy, but she did believe life wouldn't have been so damn hard on her if the Empire weren't around.

So maybe she was a little more partial to the Rebel Alliance after all.

Jai let out a low sigh, realizing she had a string of questions she wanted to ask, but knew she couldn't bombard Miona with them all at once, "I assume someone's gonna drag me back to Kafrene as soon as you give them the go-ahead?"

Miona nodded, "Captain Andor asked that we get you back as soon as possible."

Jai's lower lip jutted out as she slightly nodded, having expected the answer she was given. Her eyes drifted away from the medic and looked about the room thoughtfully, feeling some kind of tug-of-war going on in her mind. She was far from home and amidst something she couldn't have prepared herself for and yet… she didn't want to leave too soon. Perhaps she could blame it on her curiosity, that irrepressible desire to pull apart and understand every new thing that was presented to her, just as she always did with computers and scramble keys and every other electronic she'd encountered through the years. Here she was with an opportunity to see a rebel base, she couldn't just leave and go back to Kafrene without anything new in her slicing arsenal.

Jai licked her dry lips while turning her keen eyes back to Miona, "Can I look around before I have to go?"

The hesitation was immediately obvious in Miona's expression, "I don't think that's wise…"

"Because you don't know me and can't trust me." Jai said knowingly; after all, if she were a part of a resistance movement, she'd hesitate to let a thief snoop around as well. She gave another sigh through her nose, staring at Miona as she thought for a couple moments, "… My name's Jai'ren Tillian, I was raised in Kafrene for the last eighteen years, and I don't know where I came from before that. I'm one of the only good slicers from the colony… And I like a good glass of Merenzane Gold when I can afford it."

Her attempted humor seemed to work - Jai could see the way the corners of Miona's eyes crinkled in amusement, but she refrained from smiling any larger than a small, cordial smirk.

Jai briefly felt naked with how closely Miona was staring into her eyes, and she could tell that this medic was well-versed in studying people to determine their credibility. Jai stared back, being the type that didn't like to waver her attention whenever she was being watched so closely.

"I thought you were a thief?" Miona finally said, tilting her head curiously. Jai wasn't surprised by the question, though she hadn't expected it to be the first thing brought up.

The corner of her mouth pulled into a lazy grin, "Slicers are just glorified thieves - I've never had the knack for pickpocketing or stealing from shops, but I can transfer credits from anyone's accounts or get into their ships without them ever knowing."

Perhaps that wasn't something to brag about. Jai could see the uncertainty in Miona's eyes, and realized quickly that her statement could lead to a train of thought that involved speculation of what she could do if she got her hands on rebel information.

"Don't assume the worst of me." Jai defended, "I'm not concerned with your information or data, it doesn't serve me any good."

Miona crossed her arms, though not in some kind of authoritative or reprimanding way - unless Jai was mistaken, it looked as if there was almost something chaff and curious to the look the medic was giving her, "So, why slicer? Aren't there other kinds of job opportunities on Kafrene that aren't all criminal?"

Jai smiled, cocking her head while mirroring Miona's posture - she liked this woman. And it looked as if Miona maybe was beginning to like her, as well, "Why the Rebellion? That's technically criminal, too, last time I checked."

Miona could see that there was nothing accusatory in Jai's statement, that Jai wasn't actually expecting her to answer or defend herself. This slicer was sharp.

Jai's eyes continued to shine with levity as she uncrossed her arms and curled her hands around the edge of her cot, leaning forward slightly, "If you want any more of this life story, you'll have to buy me a drink first."

The slight smile pulled at Miona's lips again. Though she most certainly couldn't say she trusted Jai, given that she knew the woman a whole of ten minutes, she could at the very least say she saw the good in her. In all her years of serving the Rebellion and, prior to that, treating medical patients on her home planet, Miona learned how to hone her ability to read people's energy. And Jai's energy in this moment was genuine and without ill-intent.

"Look, Jai, I can't let you go wandering around this place," She started while rising to her feet, "But if I call someone up here to escort you, I need you to promise you won't touch a thing and you won't cause any problems."

"You'd trust the promise of a stranger?" Jai quipped, and after Miona stared at her for another moment the medic turned to begin walking toward her desk.

"I like to give people the benefit of the doubt." Miona answered simply, retrieving a commlink from her desk while shooting Jai another kind look. She then opened a cabinet behind her, revealing Jai's belongings that had been taken off of her upon her arrival, "So?"

Jai continued in good humor, "I don't tend to make promises, but for you I'll be on my best behavior."

Miona nearly laughed as she pulled out Jai's things, "I guess that's the best I'll get."

Jai slowly rose, assessing each movement carefully to ensure she'd be good on her feet - aside from some cramping pain in her abdomen, she felt relatively unharmed. Though, she did realize in that moment that she was a little hungry, but she suspected they'd given her some kind of nourishment while she was out cold - if she had been asleep for nearly two days, Jai knew her body would have demanded food immediately if they had simply left her without nourishment that entire time.

Miona and Jai met each other halfway, the medic watching Jai's movements carefully. She knew the other woman would be fine, after all she received proper attention from the medical team, but Miona's doctoral instinct and worry could never be completely turned off. Many people, after even a day of rest following bacta treatment, were up on their feet again quickly; Jai was fortunate to be one of those types and not someone that awoke feeling groggy or drained from the medical treatment. In all her years, Miona still could never predict who would wake up feeling spry and who would wake up feelings worse.

In one hand, Miona carried Jai's folded coat and all the odds-and-ends that had been stuffed in her pockets, which she held out for Jai to grab, and in the other she had the slicer's old clunky boots, which she set atop the nearest cot. Jai noticed her cap and goggles were missing, but she reckoned they had been forgotten back on Captain Andor's U-Wing.

As Jai went through her belongings carefully to ensure nothing was missing (she let out a nearly pathetically pleased sigh when she saw neither Andor nor Miona had confiscated her scramble key), Miona started speaking to someone over the commlink.

Within minutes, the women were joined by a young Twi'lek male who looked rather confused to have been called down to the medical wing. He introduced himself and told Jai to simply call him 'Abe,' receiving an agreeing nod from the woman, who replied by telling him to simply call her 'Jai.' When Miona explained that she wanted Abe to escort Jai around the base, his expression was questioning and unprepared - he wasn't exactly a babysitter, after all. But, he nonetheless agreed, always happy to do Miona a favor and thankful for the reprieve from sitting at a computer for hours on end.

As Jai and Abe stepped out of the medical wing, he began to explain where it was in relation to everything else on the level - just next door was the briefing room, and down at the opposite end of the hall was access to the barracks and the mess hall. None of that was of any particular interest to Jai, though she didn't immediately say so out loud. No, if she was going to get a tour of a rebel base, she wanted to see their ships and flight deck, wanted to see what kind of technology they had in their command room. But she let Abe take his time showing her around - he had a nearly unsure quality to the way he spoke, as if he wasn't used to talking as much as he was doing. Or maybe it was just odd for him to be giving a stranger a tour of Yavin 4. Whatever the case, Jai refrained from pressing about the things she really wanted to see, at least for now.

"So, Abe, what brought you to the Rebellion?" Jai decided to attempt some conversation as they exited the turbolift after spending about twenty minutes or so on another level; her eyes widened eagerly at the sight of computers and tech stations spread out in front of her.

Abe looked hesitant to answer as Jai turned her excited eyes toward him, and for a short while they were both silent as he considered his answer.

"I was raised in it," he started carefully, his gaze trailing over toward Jai, "My parents were both rebels; they died for the cause a couple years ago. I've stuck around to finish their fight."

'That's noble.' Jai thought. She wondered if she would have done the same if she lost her guardian to a cause like this.

"What do you do here?" She asked and Abe finally started leading her through the crowd of computers, the other rebels giving them nothing more than mere glances as they passed. Abe looked down at her with curiosity in his eyes, wondering if she actually cared or if she was simply filling the silence; he couldn't tell.

Abe came to a pause at an empty workstation, lifting his arm toward it, "I'm a technician, I help manage our communications."

Jai gave a slight smile - briefly, she suspected that maybe Miona had called up Abe because he had a similar skill to Jai and hoped that would be something they could connect over.

"Must be demanding - you do encryption and data recovery?" Jai suspected those were areas he had to be skilled in if he was taking care of rebel communications - she was sure their channels were heavily protected and monitored at all hours of the day.

Abe nodded, "Some Imperial decryption as well when it's brought to me." Though he was still unsure of Jai, he liked the opportunity to talk to someone else about what he did. Abe wasn't usually the guy that got much attention, no one in Signal Intelligence did. Despite the appreciation all the departments and organizations in the Rebellion got, sometimes he felt as if his particular area of expertise was occasionally overlooked. Or maybe it was just everyone overlooking Abe specifically.

"I do decryption, too, among other things." Jai shared with another grin, "Bet I could give some of you a run for your money."

The corners of Abe's eyes wrinkled, though not necessarily in amusement, but rather in curiosity - did he not recognize the humor in Jai's delivery? Just as she began to wonder if she should elaborate and explain herself, Abe spoke inquisitively.

"You think so?"

Was that challenge in his tone that Jai heard? As she gave a rascally smile, Abe allowed some amusement to cross his expression.

"Miona said you were a slicer." His tone suggested that he was suspicious of the woman, which was a fair judgment. Jai was used to codebreakers having a bad reputation, though she'd done nothing with her line of work to counter said prejudice.

"And a damn good one." She replied confidently, seeing the way Abe's eyes narrowed with intrigue and perhaps even eagerness, and the expression made Jai realize just how young he was. If she had to guess, he was even younger than her twenty-three years, barely an adult and already an accomplished technician. For a brief moment, Jai recognized her own brother's curiosity in this young twi'lek's eyes.

"Do you think you're better with computers than some of us?" Abe sounded mildly challenging, to which Jai continued to grin.

"I don't want to assume, but…" Did Abe just smile back at her? He was too quick to straighten out his expression for Jai to say for sure, but his eyes still looked on with intrigue.

Abe looked away as a thought struck him, his stare washing over the room full of rebels in consideration of whatever just crossed his mind. Jai watched him patiently until he finally looked back down at her.

"Why exactly are you here?" His question wasn't what Jai expected.

"It's a little… complicated, but I was shot, and brought here for medical attention." Abe studied Jai's face while digesting the answer.

"But why did you want to see the base? Miona didn't mention you were a part of the Rebellion."

"I'm not."

"Then why so curious?" Jai would hand it to Abe, he was intelligent, though she should have expected no less of a rebel technician.

"I'm not trying to collect information, if that's what you're assuming." Jai defended, though there was no malice in her tone.

Abe shook his head, "I didn't assume that."

Without any further elaboration, he walked around the workstation and rested his palms atop the back of it's chair, eyes looking down at the computer before turning back up to Jai, something mildly akin to mischief flashing in his eyes.

"Show me what you can do." Though some of his seriousness lingered, Abe's expression once again showed that youthful curiosity, the youthful desire for friendly rivalry.

Jai's brows rose, "Really? You think you can handle being beat by some slicer from a shitty colony?"

Again, Jai saw Abe nearly smile, though this time it was more obvious, "It's not a competition, I just want to see what this slicer can do."

Jai hummed curiously, but nonetheless rounded the desk, Abe pulling out the chair before stepping back. As Jai took a seat, she dug her scramble key out of one of her pockets.

This scramble key was her baby. Jai had slaved over perfecting it, customizing the device with various parts and equipment that she'd acquired through the years. The key had started out as a rather standard scrambler, but as Jai learned more and more about the art of slicing and the equipment involved, she was able to build up her key to not only open door locks, but to bypass alarms, unlock computers, and decipher encrypted data. Jai would willingly give up everything else she owned (which wasn't all that much) so long as it meant her scramble key was always safely tucked into her pocket.

Abe gave an appraising look to the scramble key, not immediately recognizing what it was, though once Jai slid the screen to the side away from the handle portion of the tool, giving the device the vague silhouette of a gun, he realized it was slicer equipment.

"I'm not trying to get into any trouble here," Jai started, spinning the chair around to look up at Abe, "so gimme something that won't turn the entire Rebellion against me."

Abe paused and considered - he didn't want to give her any basic tasks to test her skills, he wanted to see her struggle. He settled on telling Jai to find a classified file. He only gave her one bit of information to use at a starting point - the file had his name somewhere in it. He hadn't told Jai his full name, nor did he give any important dates or other information to go off of. He wasn't just testing her slicer abilities, he wanted to see how she would rationalize which file was the one he was looking for.

Jai managed that task with impressive speed. So, Abe gave her another one.

And then another.

And one more. Each increasing in difficulty. By the last two tasks Abe could see how Jai was struggling, yet she nonetheless eventually managed to complete what was asked of her.

Abe was impressed - she was certainly on par with many of the other techs here, and undeniably better than some as well. So, the Ring of Kafrene didn't only produce underwhelming and laughable criminals after all.

Despite the fact that Abe hadn't given Jai another task, she started tapping on her scramble key again, and yet, Abe had begun to let his guard down, not evening thinking to question what she was doing now. During the challenges he had given her, Abe had pulled over a second chair, sitting back in it comfortably as he watched her work.

"So, who's that Endor guy? Or was it Anders?" Jai questioned, not looking up from her key.

"Captain Andor, the one that brought you here?" Jai smirked mischievously at the reply.

"Yeah, that one." She replied, though it was noncommittal, as if she were already disengaging from the topic of the captain, continuing to work on her scramble key.

Abe paused at her expression, suspicious of it. And as he opened his mouth to question her, Jai glanced over with a satisfied look, tapping one last time on her scramble key before something changing on the screen of Abe's computer caught his eye.

They both looked at the screen, Jai pulling her seat closer and leaning in to look at the computer studiously, meanwhile Abe's eyes widened with worry. She pulled up files about Cassian Andor. Abe looked between Jai and the screen, momentarily too flabbergasted to say anything.

Cassian. Jai mulled over the name for a moment before she continued reading the profile and records the Rebellion had on him. He'd been one of the fastest to rise through the ranks, the youngest captain in the Alliance's Intelligence branch. Jai's expression furrowed in shock upon reading that he became a child soldier at six-years-old, engaging in his first combat during the Clone Wars. As she recalled what years the Clone Wars happened, she realized he had to be younger than he looked when they met aboard his U-Wing - Jai easily mistook him for a man in his thirties, but as she did the math now, she realized he was only about twenty-five. It must have been the way he carried himself or the knowing, mature sharpness of his eyes that made the man seem older beyond his years - who knew what he'd done and what he'd seen in his youth to age him so. He had the mind of someone who had to learn things the hard way, the attitude of a man that knew what he wanted and knew what he believed in. And Jai wasn't too proud to admit his rap sheet was impressive.

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Since his return to Yavin 4 nearly two days ago, Cassian had been far too preoccupied to even think about the woman he brought back with him; in fact, he had quickly forgotten about her as he got caught up in other tasks and duties. Aside from himself, another intelligence captain had returned from a mission about the same time that Cassian had, and they were both a part of a meeting with the various higher-ups to go over all the new intel that had been recently acquired. Another officer had questioned Cassian regarding his unexpected cargo, but once he gave everyone a brief explanation of what happened, the subject was dropped and forgotten.

Cassian and the other captain had gone to work trying to plan the next mission based off of new intel regarding a potential Empire database complex in the Mid Rim - they wanted to assemble a team to go check it out as soon as possible. The mission was to be headed by the second captain, Cassian already having another assignment lined up for himself that he had to prioritize. The team for the Mid Rim investigation had left on the second day of Cassian being back from his trip to the Ring of Kafrene.

Cassian hadn't thought to go to the medical wing to discuss Jai with Miona, hadn't thought to check in and see if she was still hanging around or if someone had already brought her back to the Ring. He was too caught up in his work to even spare a thought for the unplanned passenger from aboard his U-Wing.

Cassian was on his way from the hangar, where he had been checking up on repairs to his ship, to the command room in search of General Draven to go over some last minute data. He stepped out of the turbolift among the various control center technicians, inattentively excusing himself from an unimportant conversation with one of the techs as he started heading for the command room. Just as they usually did, the technicians scattered about barely spared Cassian a glance, too caught up in their own work. That was one thing Cassian always appreciated about the techs - they had laser focus that couldn't be rivaled. Where pilots and spies liked to strike up conversation and allowed their attention to be diverted far more easily when they weren't away on missions, those in Signal Intelligence and the other high-tech jobs rarely became distracted while they were at their desks.

Typically, Cassian was just as focused as the technicians once he was on this floor, as being up here in Command and Control meant business, and yet today Cassian allowed his gaze to roam the room as he walked through it. Maybe it was the noise, as everyone seemed to be louder than usual, or maybe it was some instinctive feeling, as if there was something to be seen that was out of place. Whatever the case, Cassian's gait slowed a little to allow his eyes to search the room, observing the various techs for seconds longer than he normally would.

Cassian suddenly felt as if a weight had dropped in his stomach when his eyes fell on a pair a few rows away from where he walked, the two hunched over a computer screen. He was shocked he had cared enough to even recognize the woman's face, but it was a good thing he did, because Jai had no business wandering the headquarters control room.

Cassian's eyes darkened as his brow furrowed, turning to begin marching in their direction. Jai had a mischievous smile on her face, one he wanted to wipe right off; beside her, the Twi'lek tech, whose name was escaping Cassian at this moment, looked at her with caution, saying something that appeared to be ignored by Jai. Cassian couldn't believe Miona had let down her guard and allowed Jai to leave the medical wing - he'd have to discuss this with the doctor later.

As Cassian approached, Abe finally took notice of him, inhaling sharply and jumping up from his seat quickly upon spotting the irate look on the captain's face. Jai sensed the distress in Abe's reaction, finally peeling her gaze away from the computer and up to her new company, before following his line of sight. She, too, inhaled through her nose as her eyes widened, feeling her posture stiffen, but she tried as best she could to hide her anxious surprise at seeing Cassian.

"What is she doing here?" Cassian's voice was sharp as he halted on the opposite side of the desk, clenched fist pressing down on it as he leaned forward. Despite Abe being the tallest of the three, somehow Cassian seemed like the largest person in the room, "Do you know that she is a thief and she was supposed to be brought back to her colony? What the hell is she doing on your computer?"

"Captain Andor, Doctor Tif asked me to show her around," Abe quickly defended under the intensity of Cassian's stare.

"Why?" his eyes rotated over to Jai, whose jaw was clenched tightly, doing her best to mask the concern in her black eyes.

"I couldn't leave without getting a tour." Jai quipped with defensive humor, also standing. Though Cassian still had a number of inches of height on her, Jai felt better to be facing him on her feet. Cassian dipped his head to inspect the computer, causing another wave of vexation to wash through him upon seeing his own named repeated multiple times on the display. His dark eyes met Jai's again.

"Are you trying to spy on me?" He spoke lowly, to which the corner of Jai's mouth pulled up despite the hostility between them.

"I just wanted to know more about my savior." Her tone was jeering, an obvious defense against stress and confrontation.

"Or you're a spy collecting intel." Cassian countered, sharply turning his head back to Abe, "And you're just sitting here letting her go through classified files like this? What kind of a fool are you?"

As Abe opened his mouth nervously to reply, Jai took a step in front of him, resting her fists atop the desk in a stance that mirrored the captain's, "Watch your tone."

Cassian was taken aback by her audacity to confront him that way and by her willingly to defend this rebel that she barely knew. His anger grew even hotter from her counter.

"I'd watch yours if I were you." He replied slowly.

"Captain Andor," Abe's tone was nervous, but he gulped loudly and pushed through it, "she's a slicer, I just wanted to see what she could do, I didn't mean for her to pull up any information on you. It was just in fun."

A slicer. Jai had neglected to mention that when she claimed herself to be a thief. Cassian's glare locked onto Abe with appalled shock.

"You let a slicer onto one of our computers?" His voice rose an octave, and by now a couple of the other technicians had taken notice of the confrontation going on, trying to slyly eavesdrop on it.

"Captain, she's talented." Abe seemed to grow a little braver, upset by the aggression aimed his way, "She's even better than some of us."

"That means nothing." Cassian hissed, whipping his harsh eyes back over to Jai. She met the glare head on, though Cassian could see that there was still a stressed uncertainty in her eyes; if he were someone else, he very well could have been fooled by this bluff, by this show of aggression and authority. But he wasn't someone else, and he could see right through her, could see that she had to muster up so much strength just to be glaring back into his eyes.

As Abe looked between the two, his nerves spiked high, he wasn't sure what came over him - maybe he was trying to diffuse the situation, maybe he had come to like Jai, maybe he was just desperate. Whatever the case, none of them were prepared for what he said next.

"I think she could be a good asset to us." Cassian and Jai's heads turned toward him at nearly the exact same time, Cassian prepared to argue while Jai looked with surprised curiosity, "Captain, we could use another slicer on the team, they bring a different skill set than the rest of the techs."

"Absolutely not." Cassian bit back.

"That's not up to you, though, is it?" Jai questioned harshly, eyeing the man again, drawing his attention back to her. Cassian inhaled deeply through his nose as his jaw tightened, his glare unblinking.

"You don't just join the Rebellion as some kind of cop out, we don't need people that don't care about the cause." He huffed with unamused mockery, "If this cause was important to you, you would have already said so. You don't get to use it as some means of surviving another day."

"And how do you know it's not important to me?" Jai questioned, though even she was asking herself that exact question. She didn't care about the Rebellion, did she? She had been content, albeit a little bored, back on the Ring of Kafrene, barely spared more than a thought to either the Empire or the rebels. Why now did she suddenly feel the need to argue, why now did she seem to convince herself that suddenly she cared about the matters of the galaxy at large?

Jai didn't like being challenged. Despite the fact that confrontations such as this one made her anxious, and she did her best to avoid them, a stubborn part of her couldn't help but try to stand her ground. Whether or not Cassian was right in his judgment of her didn't matter - what mattered was that he doubted her worth. And in this moment she wasn't going to simply back down and tolerate it.

"I do what I have to to survive, that's what you learn living on Kafrene. Just because I'm a slicer doesn't mean I lack morality. If anything, I value it more than the average person because of how I grew up. Don't think yourself better than me, Cassian Andor."

Cassian couldn't help but pause despite his instinct to keep arguing with her. He wouldn't say she made any valid point, nor would he admit she was right in any way, yet he nonetheless had a brief, brief moment of consideration toward her argument.

A part of Cassian knew he was being unreasonable. Perhaps it was his exhaustion or his pride or his stubbornness. The Rebellion had accepted people from all walks of life so long as they were willing to fight for the cause; Cassian had no reason to think Jai was any different from so many of the others among him.

It must have been personal, given that he had found her aboard his ship and attempting to steal; finding her here in the control room rifling through information on him didn't help her case either. Cassian was latched onto his upset from their first meeting, and that frustration combined with his current state of stress, giving way to an unnecessary level of anger in him.

Abe suggested that the discussion be brought before the council, before the Chancellor and the other heads of the Alliance. And Cassian knew Abe was right, knew that it was pointless to argue with this woman in the middle of the control center, knew that he just needed to step back and relax. He had far more important things to worry about than this woman.

As the trio came down from the high of their dispute, Cassian vowed that he wouldn't let himself trust the thieving slicer.

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Disdain [dis-deyn, dih-steyn]

verb

to look upon or treat with contempt; despise; scorn

to think unworthy of notice, response, etc.; consider beneath oneself

noun

a feeling of contempt for anything regarded as unworthy; haughty contempt; scorn

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