fic i want to write!

Lost and Found

Contains end game spoilers and Ryder family secrets. 

When Jaal first sees Sara after her visit to the Hyperion her eyes are glistening with fresh tears. He doesn’t notice the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips, he only sees what he assumes is pain hiding just underneath the surface as thin lines of salty tears run across her cheeks.

His arms wrap around Sara. There is a light squeeze which surrounds her as he voices his concerns. Is she alright? Did something happen? What can he do to help his Darling one?

Pure joyous laughter fills the air. It is confusing at first. Odd. Crying meant pain. Laughter meant joy. The two didn’t necessarily mess and yet, the small human he had come to love, expressed both simultaneously. Curious blue eyes focused on the bright endearing smile pulling at her lips- the tears slowly drying on her soft skin.

Keep reading

Lair lair Pacman pants on fire

Prompt: “That escalated quickly.” & “Says the guy walking around in pacman pajama pants.” 

Requested by: @quicksilverbells

“Well that escalated quickly” you sighed sat on the side on the road, surrounded by all the suit cases from the various cars you were traveling in. This was meant to be a family trip and by family trip you meant a bunch of mutant misfits that had been shoved into cars while Professor X proclaimed ‘This is going to be a great opportunity for you all’. It was nice he wanted to give us the same experiences as other children but we weren’t like other children.

You looked around again at the various different suit cases that were on fire, along with Professor X’s car.

“Why are we still sitting here?” Peter whined annoying holding his arms restlessly.

“Because someone thought it would be a great idea to wear Scotts glasses!” You snapped back.

“Hey!” he shot back just as quick “That wasn’t my fault okay, I didn’t know he could do that”

“Children please” Professor X pleaded pinching the bridge of his nose in despair of his vintage car he was so clearly fond of, while Scott stood there just wishing the life would put him put his misery.

“Oh yea? What did you think those were for?” you whispered to Peter through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know, I just thought the guy was cool” You scoffed, as if. Everyone saw Scott destroy the tree in the yard when Alex brought him here.

“And you just wanted to be cool, huh? Says the guy wearing pacman pajama pants

“Scott burnt my pants! And these are a classic”

“Classic if your five maybe” You grumbled under your breath. You layed back on the grass, we were going to be here for a long time and you’d had just enough of Peter Pacman pajama pants.

tanktoptiger  asked:

Jikook 9

hey angel ily (i hope i dont let u down)

9. things you said when i was crying; jikook

Golden maknae his ass. How could he be worth of that title when he couldn’t even get his voice to not crack in the high notes? When he couldn’t even get one simple dance move right? Hoseok said it was okay, the choreo was really hard, but deep down he knew he was expecting more from him. Everyone was.
It got worse when he dropped Jimin on the ground during a no more dream’s rehearsal for a concert – the terrible sound of his hyung’s body hitting the ground still resounding on his ears. They had done that a million times over – he had never dropped Jimin once –, but it seemed like his mental state was affecting his physical strength and everything was just so damn shitty.
From this day forward, he kept working on gym nonstop, wanting– no, needing to be stronger. However, each day spent in front of those glass mirrors was only useful to make him even more aware of all his flaws. All the imperfections on his body and face he wasn’t allowed to have.
The pressure was growing bigger within each day until it hit a point he couldn’t take anymore. He missed his mother, missed his family, his house – he missed the days he just felt normal and not like an useless burden to everyone around him.
He knew his members, and even the managers, were going easy on him because he was younger – that’s why he also knew he wasn’t allowed to feel that way he was feeling. He wasn’t, but what could he do when the pain was only growing bigger evey day? He was already trying to hide it as much as he could from the hyungs, not wanting to be a stupid kid sticking around their shoes, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t and it fucking hurt, but it was also refreshing when the tears washed his cheeks, simultaneously warm and blazing.
He was alone. Alone and weak in the dance studio, his inner demons pulling up a battle, but there was something relaxing about it. Everyone was already home, so it was okay. He could cry. At least for one night. He could, right? No one had to know.
But Jungkook belatedly realized – in a pent up breath of shock and shame washing over him –, he wasn’t really alone when Jimin appeared with a towel around his neck, black hair still soaked from shower. There was no way he could hide himself behind the couch, or dig a whole in the ground to bury himself there. There was also no way Jimin wouldn’t realize the reddish skin around his bruised eyes, from too many harsh rubs. He had no way out so he just accepted his fate and silently fought a sob. He could only wish Jimin wouldn’t see him in the poorly lit room.
“Jungkook-ah?!” Maybe not that day. “What are you doing over there?”
Jungkook heard him getting closer, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up, too embarrassed to show his hyung how much of failure he was.
“Jungkookie?” Jimin crouched down in front of him and it was when he realized it, concern spreading over his face in a second, “Oh my god, what happened?! Hey, Jungkookie! Look at me…” Jimin kept searching for his eyes worriedly, but Jungkook just couldn’t. He couldn’t because he was trying so hard to not break, but Jimin’s voice had the contrary effect on him. It kept him on the verge from falling and– he just couldn’t. “Jungkook…” Jimin reached for the younger’s cheeks and it wasn’t like electricity, but it was like fire, Jungkook’s skin instantly burning from the touch. A sob escaped from his lips and it was all it took for Jimin to pull him closer in the tightest hug he had ever received.
It was so warm and comfortable it made Jungkook completely forget why he was holding back in the first place. He smelled like washed clothes, soap, and most important of it all, he smelled like home.
Suddenly, Jimin’s shoulder was completely wet with Jungkook’s tears, but he didn’t seem to mind it, dragging the younger further onto his lap, tight arms around him trying to build the safest shelter he could ever.
Seeing Jungkook cry was definitely the most heartbreaking thing Jimin had ever gone through.
When the boy stopped shaking under his touch, Jimin slided his hand into his hair, drawing soothing circles with his thumb on the back of his neck. He leaned against the wall – Jungkook’s body still glued to his chest –, and waited. He wasn’t going to say anything – Jungkook was, if he needed to.
Jimin just wanted him to know he was there for him, nevertheless.
“I’m no good, hyung…” it came some seconds later, his body shrinking within each word, “I don’t know why y'all keep telling me that I am, ‘cause I’m not.” Jungkook sniffled, and Jimin searched for his hand to intertwine their fingers. “I let you fall, hyung.” The maknae hid his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck, tears overflowing from his eyes once again. “I hurt you, how can y'all even say I’m good enough after this…”
Jimin closed his eyes, throwing his head back; searching for words to say. “You know…” he started, squeezing Jungkook’s fingers on his, “Remember when I entered the group? The first day I arrived? I was so nervous I couldn’t even sleep. I heard all of you had been chosen for a company or two, but only bang pd-nim had wanted me so I was really insecure. I worked the shit out of me to keep up, because I kept thinking I was not worthy. I’m not going to be an hypocrite, I still think like this sometimes. We all do. But in one particular day… Ah, I was terrible, Jungkook. I was feeling insecure and homesick, and all the bad things at once. I couldn’t stop feeling like a real trash, but…” Jimin giggled and Jungkook felt a little tug on his heart, “You appeared in the middle of the night with bedhair and a pillow, whispering 'hyung, can I sleep here?’ Do you remember?”
Jungkook smiled.
“Yes…” his voice sounded muffled against the skin of Jimin’s neck.
“It was the first time we had ever shared a bed, but you kept talking about that game you were addicted to and about that favorite character of yours, and… eventually about how I reminded you of him. His coolness and such.” Jimin laughed again. “Aish, I felt so warm and relaxed that night I couldn’t quite believe it. I don’t know where I’m going with this, really, it just– You felt more than just enough that night, Jungkook-ah. For me.” Jimin slightly blushed, but he didn’t find the time to bother, “I know feeling like you’re no good sucks, but… You are. Really. You are way more than that, and not only for me.” Jungkook pulled away just enough to look Jimin in the eyes, which got the older to instinctively brush his fingers through the messy strands of hair sticking to his forehead, shoving them backwards to hesitantly place a soft kiss on it. He kept his mouth on Jungkook’s skin while murmuring, trying to ignore his heart violently knocking against his ribcage, “Take this things out of your mind, please… I can’t even bring myself to imagine spending a single day without you.” Jimin leaned down, touching their foreheads and drowning into Jungkook’s eyes – their hands still clasped together, only a breath apart between them “How can you be possibly not enough?”

anonymous asked:

AU where John is an amazing pianist but never did anything with it because his dad was completely against it. One day, they're on a case and both have to go undercover at some posh restaurant, but something goes wrong and they need a distraction, so John sneaks over to the piano and starts playing so beautifully that it brings tears to everyone's eyes and even Sherlock gets a little sidetracked because he hadn't deduced that about John. Also, imagine them playing piano/violin duets!

This is beautiful, and now I want a fic about it.  Write me a fic about it!  <3

Keep Me Up Where the Light Is

There wasn’t a name for it. What could you name something that wasn’t quite there, but wouldn’t go away? It just was. It existed and he ignored it. Or, at least, he tried to.

Killian still has magic after his return from the Underworld and it’s leaving cracks in everything.

A/N: This is a product of my middle-of-the-night raging over last night’s episode and I am, apparently, a being fueled entirely on angst at this point. A special you’re the best to @stubble-sandwich for listening to that rage and for reading this. And that’s totally a John Mayer lyric because I’ve lost all control of my life. 

Spoilers for 6X14, so read at your own risk. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll. 

Keep reading

wolftrxyepack  asked:

That's actually like one thing that bothered me??? How did Dan feel about Phil before, why was he running away, when did he realize, was he happy when he found out etc

I feel a bit bad now because I feel like I might have left out some good details. Basically, Phil is seen as kind of a scary guy at school, so Dan was afraid when Phil stared at him, or spoke to him, that Phil was being sarcastic and actually hated Dan. But Phil was quite attractive, and realizing Phil was shy and giving Dan flowers made his heart go all a flutter, so he was definitely happy when he found out that Phil liked him!

I really want to write a fic where Magnus and Alec are together but it’s like basically forbidden for Shadowhunters and Downworlders to be together. It’s outright outlawed in Shadowhunter law from them marrying Downworlders but it isn’t by Downworlders. To keep their relationship secure Alec and Magnus decide to get married in secret because even though Shadowhunters will not recognize their marriage, the Downworlders would and with Magnus being the leader of the warlocks, separating him from his “chosen” would immediately wage between warlocks (and likely the rest of the Downworlders) and the Shadowhunters. Alec is hopeful that their marriage will broker peace but instead it breaks out chaos with the Shadowhunters trying to have Magnus’ head for marrying Alec, by coming up with the argument that Alec is not in his right mind because he was put under a love spell by Magnus, while also debating about sentencing Alec to death/lifetime imprisonment for treason despite the war it’d wage with the Downworlders if he’s telling the truth. And not all the Downworlders are being supportive either, wanting Magnus to step down from his position due to his fraternizing with “Shadowhunter affairs.”

Maybe some day I will get a chance to write this, but I just wanted to throw this out there to see if anyone found it interesting.

anonymous asked:

ARE YOU EVEN FUCKING KIDDING ME I'VE WANTED TO WRITE FICS FOR YOUR ART WORK BUT I DON'T WANNA STEP ON YOUR TOES YOU HAVE A VISION IN MIND AND I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU WRITE OUT YOUR IDEAS

YOU CAN IF IT INSPIRES YOU,,
(i would love to but atm im not ready lolol)

lindsayloveslife  asked:

🍍 Yay congrats on the followers! My request is Bellarke + things you said with no space between us

thank you so much!!

blog compliment: we absolutely love both your main and side blogs - really awesome content! and you’re super nice <3 <3

okay, so this prompt kinda got away from me for several reasons a) i was slightly high on cold medicine as i wrote part of it so i’m really sorry if there are any incoherent parts and b) i have been craving a bellarke au where bellamy’s in mount weather with clarke and the 47, so thank you for giving me an outlet for that particular headcanon! i have a feeling this might become a full-fledged fic at some point because i kept wanting to write more backstory, but until then - i hope you like it!!

want positivity about your blog too?


They were bound to be seen eventually.

It had roughly been ten days since they woke up in the creepy white quarantine of Mount Weather. Despite the initial uneasiness, the delinquents had settled in nicely and were enjoying not having to fight for their lives every single day, with two exceptions. Bellamy and Clarke hadn’t bought into the whole “live everyday like it’s a Thanksgiving dinner” vibe for a second. They had felt out of place in the dining hall, Bellamy in a dress shirt and Clarke in a nice blouse. Feeling Dante Wallace’s gaze on them during every meal had gotten old pretty fast.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at escape, they had decided to lay low for the time being and try to act like they were getting accustomed to their new surroundings. It had been difficult (especially for Bellamy), but they had talked to Dante to convince him they wouldn’t try to escape again and spewed some lie about how they had been scared and nervous about their friends. He’d seemed to buy that, and so they were left to explore the depths of Mount Weather as inconspicuously as they could manage.

Which brought them to their current predicament.

They had left on a recon mission after dodging Jasper’s pleas about having blueberry pancakes together, and were now stuck in a hallway they weren’t supposed to be in. The harsh sound of footsteps alerted them to a guard approaching. Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other in panic for a second. There weren’t really any place they could hide in, except for a tiny nook near the corner of the wall. It wouldn’t really cover them from the guard’s view but it could save them some time before they were discovered. A plan started to form in Bellamy’s mind as he glanced at the nook and back at Clarke pointedly. They quickly walked over and Bellamy maneuvered them until Clarke’s back was against the wall and his large frame was covering her completely.

Clarke was used to communicating silently with Bellamy at this point. Following their sort of heart-to-heart after their day trip, they had developed a certain understanding of each other that showed itself in this weird telepathic way.

It had intensified after ending up in Mount Weather, though. The first time they saw each other after waking up had been when they were being discharged from quarantine. Clarke remembered relief washing over her as she realized she hadn’t killed him when she had pulled the lever. They had locked eyes across the room for all of two seconds, and proceeded to overpower the medical personnel helping them in perfect sync. That escape attempt hadn’t gotten them anywhere, except in Dante’s room for a very ambiguous and creepy talk where they realized they were technically being held captive. Their connection had only gotten stronger after that, and now it was like they knew what the other was thinking before the thought had even finished forming.

That didn’t stop Clarke from being surprised when Bellamy leaned in close. She could feel his breath on her cheeks. She was suddenly hyper aware of exactly how close they were standing.

“Do you trust me?” Clarke’s heart beat a little faster at having Bellamy so close, whispering in her ear. She nodded without hesitating. He leaned back and their eyes met. She could barely hear the guard’s footsteps getting closer over her thundering pulse.

“I do.” Bellamy’s eyes fluttered for a second and he swallowed. He saw the guard spot them from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry this had to happen this way,” he quickly whispered, and then his lips were on hers. One of his hands was on the wall above her head, the other gently caressing her cheek.

She was so shocked that it took her a few moments to respond. Bellamy grabbed her hand and put it on his waist and pressed his lips against hers as if he was saying “come on, Clarke”.

Clarke caught on to Bellamy’s plan quickly after that and responded to his kiss. As the initial shock wore off, she finally realized she was kissing Bellamy Blake. It wasn’t weird or awkward as she thought it might be; instead it felt so – natural. She grabbed his shirt where her hand was resting on his waist and carded her free hand in his curls. She felt Bellamy sigh against her lips as her nails brushed against his scalp. One of his hands dropped to her back and pulled her flush against him as they deepened the kiss – and promptly jumped apart when the guard cleared his throat right next to them.

“This hallway is off limits.” Clarke blinked dazedly at Bellamy and bit her lip; her brain still trying to work through I just made out with Bellamy.

Realizing that Clarke wasn’t going to talk anytime soon, Bellamy started explaining.

“We were just trying to find someplace private. We didn’t know this floor was closed off.” He was holding the back of his neck and avoiding the guard’s eyes, feigning nervousness. 

Finally finding her voice, Clarke piped in, “Yeah, we’re really sorry. Won’t happen again.”

The guard glanced between them for a moment, then nodded his head, satisfied. “Yeah, yeah, I know how it is at your age. Just be careful where you wander off to next time.”

The mention of next time had Clarke’s stomach flipping in anticipation, but she shook it off and grabbed Bellamy’s hand, pulling him towards the elevator. She quickly mumbled a “thank you” over her shoulder as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Bellamy kept stealing glances at the mirror in front of them to see her reaction, but she was determined not to show anything. She would deal with what this kiss meant after they had gotten their people out of this hellhole. They slowly slipped back into their usual conversation as they left the elevator and went to join their friends.

She had forgotten all about Bellamy’s words just before he kissed her until she was in bed, replaying the events of the day in her mind. I’m sorry this had to happen this way. Did that mean he had been hoping to kiss her at one point? Had he given thought to how he wanted to kiss her? Just the possibility of that was enough to keep her awake for a couple more hours, tossing and turning.

Absent - Part 19

I really wanted to ruin the mood of this by writing ‘orbs’ instead of ‘eyes’.  For some reason that entertains me.  

Also I was hoping I would take the opportunity to ease this into an ending soon, but my mind said “Nope”.   Apparently serial writing is a bad idea for me.

Prev. Parts.

xxxxxxxxxx


As soon as her gun fired she saw a splash of blood from Scar’s hand as the bullet went clean through it and did little to impede him.    It was then that she realized the heat around her was not the proverbial flames of hell, but real flames and they scorched Scar’s tattooed arm and caused him to retract his hand right before it met her face.   Then the blaze flared up, circled her and pushed him back before receding.   There was only one person who could command fire like that, control it with enough precision that it wouldn’t burn her or Ed yet still reduced Scar’s arm to a bubbling burned mess of tissue.  She turned and looked at the Flame Alchemist, but her heart sank when she saw herself and not Roy.  


“After you left I remembered a book I sold that might be of use to you.  I hopped a freight train to get here faster.”  The alternate Riza said matter-of-factly and walked forward towards her double who was still sitting in the road beside a boy’s body.   The man who had attacked her was already gone, disappeared down a side street.  


Riza looked up at her as she came over to her side.    She couldn’t believe that she had been the one to save herself.   She stared at herself, lighter in hand and a etching of the array on it.    She stared at the painstakingly engraved array on the stainless steel lighter and her heart started to hurt again.   Roy was dead because he was still a target even without his alchemy.   Ed and Al were gone because they wanted to protect him, but someone needed to be there to protect them. They were just kids.   In her world, pain  had accompanied the power but they were able to protect the people they loved.   It was a sacrifice.  


The other Riza bent down and reached over to check on the boy that was unmoving on the ground.   She looked at his face and checked his pulse.   So that attacker’s alchemy did something to this boy’s brain.   “I’m sorry, I was too late.   You know him?”


“Yes.”  Riza said and brushed Ed’s hair and ran her hand over his eyelids and stop those unseeing golden eyes from staring at her.  


“A state alchemist?”  Alternative Riza asked and pointed to a watch that had come loose from his pocket.  


“The youngest ever.  He is a prodigy, a hero of the people.   Really what alchemy was supposed to be about.”  Riza watched herself lean over and try to take the watch.  “What are you doing?”


Her hand froze where it was, the edge to the other woman’s voice sounded like a growl of a mother protecting it’s young.   She knew this boy very well it seemed.   “The book you need may have been sold to the National Library.   They buy most of my books.   You’ll need this to get in there.”  


Of course, she was a hunter gatherer.   She saw salvage in loss, utilizing everything to it’s fullest meant there was no room for sentimental value.   It was how it had to be when you were too poor to afford the alternative.   She couldn’t blame her for not seeing how much that watch meant to him.   It was just a military ID as far as she was concerned.  It was a timepiece and she was running out of time.   “Leave this with him, we’ll take Roy’s.”


“Sure.”


It was then that the other woman’s hand grasped hers and squeezed in a show of sympathy.   Immediately her emotions welled up and tears began to fall again as adrenaline ebbed and the pain of this moment hit her.   Real or not, it was so real and she hated her mind for even considering this alternative to their encounter with Scar.  Sirens began to blare in the distance and she felt a tug, telling her to stand and leave.   “I can’t leave him like this.”


“You can’t stay.” The other Riza said.   “Look around you, this isn’t real.  This is in your mind and your mind is taking away what you love.  Trying to chase you out and back to those who care about you.  It’s telling you that all of this is taking a toll and you need to find a solution quickly.”


“What is it telling you to do?”  Riza asked.   “Why did you leave your home on a whim to help me.  You just met me.  My story has to be…hard to believe.  I wouldn’t believe me.”


“Alchemists, we’re supposed to help people and…..search for truth.  You have answers to questions I have been asking myself my whole life.   I couldn’t let you just leave without learning more.   ”  Riza held out her lighter.   “This is the first time I was able to feel like I made a difference with Flame Alchemy.   It can be used for something good.  Maybe this is all about you finding your way home and me finding myself.    If I think about it like alchemy, then two objects can not occupy the same space without changing.    If you are the element that doesn’t belong in my world, than terrible things may start happening because you have thrown things out of balance. Rebound from a transmutation like this is still very possible even if it didn’t happen in the first alchemy stage.   There is a balance to energy and that must be respected or nature will try to correct it. So we have to go to save us both.”


“Give me that cloak over there.”  Riza said, it made sense what she was saying. She didn’t necessarily believe her or why she was here, but did recognize it all as a threat to her existence.   If this was another world, her presence here meant things were going to be changing for the worse soon.  


The alternative Riza went over and picked up the red cloak, and saw the flamel embroidered on the back.   This poor kid, he was just a teenager.   What the hell was he doing working for the military and getting himself in the middle of all this?   Another child, like herself, forced to grow up too fast.   It didn’t matter now, she could always read about him in a book later.   He was gone and they were pressed for time.  If they didn’t leave they would surely be held for questioning by the military and she feared that more than the attacker coming back.


Riza stood and went over to get Al, hoping when she picked him up that he would wake from his state of shock and still be in there somewhere.   However when she grabbed the portion of collar where his blood seal was attached, she saw a piece of Ed’s automail embedded in it.   That made her light-headed and she almost threw up.   The thought of a part of Ed’s vitality, of a reminder of his sacrifice, being what destroyed the blood seal that he bound his brother to this world with…it was too much.   He gave that arm to keep Al in this world, and with that arm he released him.


“Are you ready?”


Riza turned and carried the helmet and collar over and knelt beside Ed again.  She placed Al’s helmet beside him, wrapped his arm around it and then took the cloak and draped it over them both.  Then she bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead and started bawling.   “I’m sorry.”


The alternative Riza pulled her military version off her knees and started walking towards the sidewalk, then she found herself dragged over to a military vehicle and saw another body;  a man who she assumed was the Roy  this woman talked about.   There was a dog beside him, the dog she had seen waiting on his master in the car at the farm.   She didn’t say anything and watched as the other Riza said her goodbyes to a man she barely knew but loved in another world.  It was enough to bring tears to her own eyes as she watched her run her hand through his hair, close his eyes and whisper words into his ear.

…. I left to do something and came back to find that I now have 18 asks for the AU meme. YOU CAN STOP SENDING ME AUs NOW. :DDD

They’re super fun to write, though! *sifts through inbox*

I want to write actual fics for all of these …

anonymous asked:

I SAW YOUR "but I also want a fic about this" TAG ON THAT ARRYTHMIA THING. please write a clexa fic about that with Lexa arriving in the ER and not being able to leave bc hot doc Clarke

To be clear, I want someone ELSE to write that fic haha - please and thank you! Bonus points for sneaking a fake-relationship in there. Like, Lexa’s agreed to pretend to be Clarke’s date for whatever reason and she can’t handle all the touching (but she SHOULD be able to bc obviously she doesn’t have feelings for her best friend. ofc not. preposterous), and has to confess her feelings when she ends up in the hospital for the second time that weekend. 

In the meantime, @thedoctor-smith reminded me that Heart (1, 2) by @coeurdastronaute has some wonderful similarities to that and is just an awesome fic anyway. 

  • luke skywalker is terrifying. 
  • no, shut up, come back.
  • you have to understand:
  •  to you or me he may not be; he may be all sunshine smiles and corngold hair and the biggest eyes this side of the galaxy, but imagine you’re Dagger (stormtroopers don’t get proper names), firing at a boy, only the bolts never hit. They sing to the side. You think that there’s something wrong with your blaster, maybe, but none of your friends can hit him either. Finest shots in the Empire, you are, but you can’t hit this boy. And he cuts you down. He wields a weapon whose name you’ve never learned and he cuts you down into smoking bloodless bodies and your friends die before you – only he leaves you. Knocks you out with a blow of the Force – and isn’t that a nightmare of its own, unseen hands blotting out your thoughts – leaves you there in the cooling blood of your squadmates.
  •  Imagine that you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a dancer for the Hutt and you hate it, of course you do, but it is a living, a living, and this boy comes in, fresh-faced and young and he says surrender or be destroyed only he and you both know that the Hutt do not and never have surrendered and when he says destroy there’s this grin on his lips, thin and sharp, and he’s kind, of course he is, but –
    • so you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a native of tattooine and like many of your specis you are force-touched and you were a girl, once, a very little girl, and your mother told you tales of krayt dragons who slumbered beneath the sands and gentled their young to their pearl-heavy breasts. krayt dragons are tender mothers, she had said, and it was meant to teach you something of the duality of nature, or to fear those with young to protect, or something; but all you can think is this boy, how he smiles as kind as your mother did, once, but you’re convinced that if you were to cut him down the middle you would find dragon-pearls in his ribs and fire instead of a heart
    • the boy cuts downs jabba’s goons like they are nothing, nothing, and afterwards, afterwards, you sense his sorrow. and somehow that makes it worse.
    • because you say, later, to your mother’s ghost (maybe) or to the desert, he knows that killing people is hard and that weighs on him and he does it anyway and –
    • and, you say, it isn’t as simple as: he makes the hard choices. he knew the hutt would fight. he wanted to burn them down, oh he did, and that sister of his –