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miss-spooky-eyes · 3 years

Text

intersection (a belated OC Kiss Week fic)

Yes, I am extremely late, but in my defense I didn't know OC Kiss Week was happening and it coincided with some insane work.

Author Notes/What to Know:

This is a fic about the (near) kisses of my IA/Cipher Nine, Devinahl, and @sunsetofdoom's Smuggler Teo. I encourage absolutely anybody & everybody to read what she's written about Teo, which you can find the most important & glorious pieces of here, here and here.

'Karia Madeesh' is the alias used by the future Cipher Nine during her adolescence as a schoolgirl spy tasked with befriending the children of important Republic figures. I think that's all you need to know, but Dev's backstory fic Riddle goes into much more detail.

Warnings: Um ... nudity? Mentions of vomiting? Extreme teenage dumbness?

Thank you thank you thank you to Sunset for lending me Teo and letting me get way, way, way too much into my feelings about him, especially his teenage depression. I hope you like it.

Further thank you thank you thank yous to @vespertine-legacy for reading various versions, encouraging me and gently correcting me on minor details like the names of my characters 😘

‘Childhood is long and narrow, like a coffin, and you can’t get out of it on your own.’ - Tove Ditlesen

Part One

New Baxeid, 3652 BBY/1 ATC

Teonine Lunulata didn’t often wish he was somewhere else. Didn’t see the point.

If he closed his eyes and opened them to find he was in a completely different place, it wouldn’t change a thing; he’d still be there.

Right now, though, he would like to be anywhere - back in his room with the door closed, preferably, but a classroom, his form tutor’s office, the gym even - other than here.

A fresh wave of shrill laughter crested over the top of the already too-noisy compartment, and Teonine winced as pain stabbed through his temples again. He huddled further back into his corner, one arm wrapped around his stomach to try to keep the length of plastic tubing from slipping out from underneath the baggy sweatshirt his mother would be furious to find out he still owned because it was so old and shapeless. Winding the tubing around his waist beneath the overlarge garment usually worked well enough to conceal it, as long as he kept his distance from people and it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that; but he hadn’t done that good a job securing it this time, thanks to the shaky hands and the rush he’d been in, and anyone he bumped up against in the crowded carriage was going to notice something. Even if he was surrounded by idiots.

The shuttle bumped and jolted as it jerked on to the next mag-rail, eliciting more shrieks and squeals from the nearby knot of girls as the passengers swayed and clung on to each other to keep their balance. Teonine splayed the fingers of his free hand out on the wall behind him, and wished he was dead. As if the noise and the stabs of pain it elicited from his head weren’t bad enough, the smell of upwards of fifty people crammed into the compartment was rapidly becoming unignorable, even with the scented bands he wore on his tresses to keep his pheromone receptors from becoming overwhelmed. And he wished he hadn’t thought about that, because half the people in here were miners with all the sweat-and-damp-and-body odours that entailed and someone standing near him was wearing far too much perfume and he had puked up way too much way too recently for that cocktail of smells to be filling his nostrils.

Teonine swallowed down hard on a wave of bile; the dumb kids from his school standing near him might be ignoring him now, but if he threw up his guts over their jacketed backs you could bet they’d start paying attention. Don’t puke, don’t puke, he chanted silently in time with the rumbling of the shuttle on the mag-rails, don’t puke don’t puke don’t puke …

The wave of nausea abated and his insides settled down into a muttering sourness. Shivering, miserable, Teonine huddled into his corner and wished again that he was anywhere but here.

Not that it was anyone’s stupid fault but his own that he was here, of course. One day a month, the students were allowed to leave the carefully-curated grounds of the school, get on the mag-shuttle which was the only means of transport between the various different settlement bubbles on the space station, and visit New Baxeid. New Backside, as the students had inevitably christened it (quite the sophisticated wit, whoever had first thought that one up), lived up to its informal moniker; it was just a hub of offices, warehouses and what passed for upscale residences and shops which catered to the bureaucrats and corporate types who ran the mines on this system’s various lifeless planetoids and asteroids. But to the kids who spent the rest of the month inside the ergonomically-designed buildings and wandering the manicured lawns of the Pantomathia Academy (and you could guess what the students in their infinite wit and creativity did with that name), positively the finest school in Republic space for wealthy parents who wanted their kids to be able to do anything except escape, it represented the only opportunity for a monthly crumb of freedom.

Teonine usually didn’t bother going. He’d been at Pantomathia for three years already, had exhausted the possibilities of New Baxeid - at least, the bits that students were allowed to visit - within the first term, and ‘town’ weekends were usually a good opportunity for him to work on his still in relative privacy. But whatever he’d decided it was a good idea to try fermenting this time had done a number on the pipes, which had made an urgent trip into town imperative. It wouldn’t have been so bad, Teonine thought with the clinicalness of the truly hungover, if he hadn’t tried drinking the results last night despite knowing they’d started to dissolve inert plastic.

His stomach lurched at the very thought, and he pulled the cuffs of his sleeves over his balled fists, shivering. At the tender age of fifteen, Teonine had had some truly miserable hangovers, but the way he’d felt when he’d woken up this morning had taken the prize for sheer awfulness with room to spare. Only the knowledge that this was his only chance for a month to get new tubing and prevent an unthinkable future lapse in his supply could have made him crawl out of bed. Even then it hadn’t been until well after what should have been lunchtime.

Don’t think about lunch.

That was how he’d ended up in a situation he normally avoided like Talaxii foot-rot; the last shuttle to leave New Baxeid in time for the school curfew, crammed into a compartment crowded not just with weary workers and miners headed back to their residential blocks, but with the kids who thought that waiting until the very last minute to get back to the academy made them somehow cool. The ones who liked to hang back and stray down the side streets and talk about staying out past sunset, when school rumour had it that illicit and seedy nightspots catering to the transitory miner population sprang to life and stayed open till dawn. As if they’d ever dare try it.

In the frantic jostle to get on board the shuttle, Teonine had ended up getting swept to the back of the carriage with the absolute worst and dumbest kids from his class; Torsin Fralx, blond and beefy, and his cronies Voka Ginn and Fotze the Gran - all boys Teonine’s mother had gently forbade him from having anything to do with (‘If only I could believe your good influence on them would be stronger than their bad influence on you’) - and the Kel’Dor twins, Aun and Zu, whose father served with Teonine’s mother in the Senate (‘What a quaint family, really quite civilised, such a shame the way those boys play would be much too rough for you, Teonine’). They were all being particularly loud and obnoxious today, vying with each other to impress the girls who were standing next to them in a tight little huddle, Tixia and H’Rukn and the new one, pretending to ignore the boys but shrieking with laughter a little more piercingly every time Fralx did something dumb. Knowing Fralx, the girls’ laughter was going to be audible only to certain aquatic species by the time they got back to school.

None of them had acknowledged Teonine, of course, despite the fact that he was standing within a few feet of them; if Senator Lunulata’s descents upon the school (once when Fotze accidentally gave Teonine a nosebleed in gym, and then when Teonine accidentally let slip that Fralx sometimes called him ‘squid-boy’) hadn’t done the trick, the fact that their parents had absolutely warned them not to do anything to upset the offspring of such an influential politician would have. He’d been safely invisible for the best part of his three years at Pantomathia, and that was exactly how he wanted it. He just wished they wouldn’t be so fucking loud, that was all. Some people had hangovers.

‘Give it back, Voka, you kriffing herder!’ Fralx bellowed nearby, and Teonine closed his eyes, trying to pretend he couldn’t hear that voice rattling through his skull. There was the sound of scuffling feet and grunts, and a Rodian yelp before Fralx was yelling again: ‘Got it! Hey, Karia, did you see that? The skrag tried to nick my kriffing holocard! Kriffing skrag!’

Behind closed eyelids, Teonine rolled his itchy eyes in their sore sockets. Pantomathia liked to bill itself as ‘Polishing the Best and the Brightest’; in Fralx’s case, they were definitely buffing a turd.

‘Dastardly,’ said a girl’s voice, dripping with boredom.

‘Hey, hey, Karia, do you know what time it is? Do you remember I said I’d show you our game? Do you remember?’

‘Kriff’s sake, Fralx, she remembers, don’t tell the whole room,’ drawled another girl; the exaggerated Coruscant accent meant H’Rukn, who liked to pretend she didn’t come from Uphrades.

‘Yeah, it’s supposed to be a secret, you skrag.’

‘You’re the skrag, skragface!’ More scuffling feet.

‘Are we going to show her the game, or are you skrags just going to feel each other up the whole ride?’ H’Rukn again. ‘We’re nearly out of the bubble.’

‘Kriff, you’re right.’ That was Fralx. ‘Where’s the datapad? Tixia, do you have it?’

There was a momentary pause, and then Teonine heard the bored girl say again, ‘Ooh, it’s a circle that flashes. I can’t wait to tell all my friends.’

‘The circle’s just for picking the players,’ Tixia was explaining. Teonine peeked from under half-closed eyelids; the Mirialan girl had her datapad out, and was glancing suspiciously all around her in a way that would have betrayed she was up to something she shouldn’t be if anybody had been paying the slightest attention to the students at the back of the carriage. ‘Well, player, really. Then the person who gets picked, picks their player.’

‘Player for what?’ the bored girl - it was the new girl, Karia something - asked, and Tixia and H’Rukn dissolved into giggles.

‘To go in there with,’ Aun, or maybe Zu, buzzed through his antiox mask, and Teonine heard the other one rap on the back wall of the compartment.

‘The airlock?’ the new girl asked, and Tixia and H’Rukn laughed harder than ever.

‘“Take My Breath Away” is a Panty-mouth tradition,’ Fralx announced pompously. (So were bullying, self-harm and eating disorders, Teonine thought.) ‘You draw lots, and whoever loses has to pick someone to go into the airlock with, and we seal you in.’

‘And you can’t get out while the shuttle is between the bubbles,’ Ginn interjected eagerly.

‘She knows how airlocks work, skrag-for-brains,’ Tixia told him.

‘So how long till the next bubble?’

‘Seven minutes. No getting in or out.’ There was another gust of giggling.

‘So it’s an excuse to make out, except you could also both die.’

‘Someone did die once!’ Tixia exclaimed. ‘There was a power failure at the coils and the rail de-polarised and these two girls were in the airlock and the emergency hatch systems failed too -‘ This station really attracted some incompetent engineers, Teonine thought - ‘and when the repair crew came they didn’t know anybody was in there so they blew the back hatch and the girls got vented into space.’

‘Still with their hands down each other’s pants,’ H’Ruk’n added.

‘Sure, whatever.’

Teonine gave in and opened his eyes. Fralx and his minions had their backs to him, facing the girls; through a gap between their shoulders, Teonine could see Tixia, H’Ruk’n and the new girl, confronting the boys like an opposing team. Tixia and H’Ruk’n had their arms round each other’s waists like they always did, but the new girl had her hands on her hips in a way that would have looked cool and provocative on someone with hips, and which, to be fair to her, she was very nearly pulling off with the equipment at her disposal. All the kids who could grow or buy long hair were wearing it the same way that year, in absurdly long, high pigtails that were meant to imitate lekku, but hers was cut short in a profusion of seemingly careless flicks and spikes, and dyed a violent blood orange. She had on a synthleather jacket like the spacers Teonine had sometimes seen in New Baxeid, and tight pants, and she had enough piercings in her nose and elaborate cuffs on her ears to almost camouflage the cybernetic implants that looped her ears and extended delicate silvery arms almost to the corners of her eyes.

Karia Madeesh, that was her name, and she looked just as cocky and pleased with herself now as she had when the form tutor had introduced her to the class with an injunction to make her feel at home and ease the difficult transition between schools while she stood there running her eyes over them all like she was trying to decide who was cool enough to hang out with her.

Usually that sort of thing would get you eaten alive at the Academy. But because everybody had already heard that the new girl had got kicked out of her last school, and who knew how many before that, they were all agog to find out exactly what she’d done; and when she acted like she didn’t even want to know them, that sealed the deal, because these were some of the smartest, best-educated morons in the galaxy.

‘It did happen,’ Fotze was insisting, braying through his nostrils the way he always did when he was blustering. ‘My brood-uncle Gakze was here twenty years ago and he said -’

‘No, yeah, I’m sure you’re right,’ Karia said, examining the orange-painted fingernails of one hand. ‘I’m sure it’s a really dangerous game of … kissing.’

‘Like you wouldn’t be scared to go in there,’ Fralx scoffed, rapping his knuckles on the emergency hatch in the back wall of the carriage.

Karia shrugged. ‘I think I could just about handle it.’

‘So do it, new girl.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t you need your little flashing circle to pick a player?’

‘Usually. But since it’s your first shuttle ride, and since it’s all so tame and juvenile, I think you should go in.’

‘Torsin,’ Voka whined.

‘Shut up.’ Fralx had stepped forward, and Teonine had seen him on the edge of losing his temper enough times to be able to picture the look on his face with perfect clarity. ‘So? Are you going to go in there, or what?’

Karia inspected her fingernails again, flicked some stray lint off her sleeve, tossed her hair out of her eyes and said: ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’ Teonine saw the set of Fralx’s beefy shoulders relax, and was laying his own head back against the wall, losing interest again, when she added: ‘With him.’

Teonine saw every head whip round to follow her pointing finger, and reflexively looked round himself, with the result that his cheek and nose collided with the wall his head was leaning on. There was a hot bloom of pain in his face and a cold lurch of nausea in his stomach and he staggered away from the wall a little, then - idiotically - looked back at the wall again, as if there could somehow be somebody standing behind him.

Fralx’s mouth was open and he was spluttering, apparently lost for words, and a very small, very secret part of Teonine took a mental snapshot of that image. The rest of him was still trying to turn around and look behind him again.

Karia sidestepped Fralx and took two or three steps towards Teonine and the chances that this was some galaxy-sized misunderstanding were further reduced as she looked at him curiously and said, ‘Teonine, right?’

‘Um,’ Teonine said. After a couple of seconds, some neurons kicked into gear in his faltering brain, suggesting that wasn’t enough of an answer, so he added: ‘Er.’

She smiled at him, or at least started to, before she clearly registered the noises he’d made in lieu of words and the smile sort of slid off the side of her mouth. ‘Um … OK?’ She tilted her head to one side, caught somewhere between amusement and confusion. ‘You know about the game, right? So … do you want to?’

Did he want to? Did he want to? Did he want to -? Teonine wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted, except by grown-ups sometimes - visiting professors and more-or-less distant relatives and connections of his mother’s - and that was always ‘What do you want to do when you grow up?’ and that question was always just a cloak for what they really wanted to know, which was ‘Are you going to fall in line or not?’.

Sometimes he thought about wanting, how it worked, what it must feel like: Like a tug inside, a finger hooking itself inside your waistband, pulling you onwards. Sometimes he thought he could sense wanting by its absence, but that wasn’t better, it just left him feeling like a speeder bike with no ignition key.

He might have felt the tug or not, standing there in front of a cool, pretty girl who’d just asked him in front of everyone to make out with her, but he had no idea how he was supposed to know when his whole body was ringing like a bell with the shock and the heat of being spoken to, looked at, picked.

He didn’t know what he wanted.

He knew he didn't want to say no.

So he said: ‘Yeah. OK.’

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him, but not in a mean way, more like she was inviting him to laugh with her at how stupid everything was, and that made him feel another new thing, like something that had been tightly wound in his chest was unspooling, like he might be turning all sorts of colours on the inside. ‘Well, come on then.’

She reached out and took his hand, just like that, like it was a thing anybody could just do; and led him through the centre of the loose knot of kids, pulling him confidently after her, towards the back right corner of the carriage. Teonine heard a few disbelieving mutters and splutters, but for the most part the kids were silent, silent as Fralx, who seemed to have stiffened into statue-like immobility. Not silent because they were avoiding speaking to him in case they upset Senator Lunulata’s precious boy, but silent like they genuinely didn’t know what to say, like they were truly confounded. And to the complex cocktail of emotions Teonine was conscious of experiencing was added a secret squirm of shameful pleasure at how much he was enjoying that.

Voka Ginn hesitated, looking uncertainly over at Fralx, but Karia raised her eyebrows at him and he knelt down by the emergency hatch, connecting his datapad to the controls and tapping in a few commands (slicing, isolating and slaving controls like these was something even the lowest-achieving pupil at Pantomathia’s computer science classes could do). The hatch cover jolted slightly as it sprang free, and Voka moved quickly to catch it before it could fall on to the floor, although it was hardly likely that anyone in the crowded, noisy compartment would hear it if it did, or bother pushing their way through the tightly-packed passengers to investigate.

Karia raised her eyebrows again, at him this time, and feeling like he was lost in a place he was supposed to recognise, Teonine let go of her hand, knelt down and crawled through the hatch.

He had to release his grasp on the tubing hidden underneath his sweatshirt as he did so, and as he made it through the hatch, it started to slip free, one end of it uncoiling and snaking down towards the floor. Hurriedly he grabbed it and tucked it back into place as he got to his feet, just in time as Karia crawled through after him.

Teonine only had time to register a confused impression of the inside of the airlock - grimy metal, a few nets hanging from nails on the wall as if things had once been stored in here and secured in case of ventilation - when the light shining through the entryway was suddenly extinguished as Voka Ginn replaced the hatch after them.

It was … dark. Teonine probably should have been expecting that - why would there be lights inside an airlock? - but in his agitated state the suddenness of it came as a shock which ratcheted his panic up another notch. In a few moments his eyes would have adjusted, but for now all he could make out was the dim movement that was Karia getting to her feet.

‘Cosy,’ he heard her say with casual sarcasm.

It was small - which, of course it was, why would an emergency airlock on a groundside mag-shuttle be big - but the design rationale didn’t make Teonine feel any better about the size of it. It was the same width as the compartment, of course, but in length it was narrow; Teonine reached out with the hand that wasn’t currently keeping the tubing from falling out of his sweatshirt and felt his palm flatten against the back panel of the shuttle. It was rattling faintly, which was not reassuring; right now, if the maglocks that kept it shut were to fail, they would still be able to breathe the air and feel the warmth of New Baxeid’s atmospheric bubble, but in a few seconds …

As if on cue, there was a faint sucking thunk from both the panel at the back and the direction of the hatch, and a familiar shudder ran through the floor.

‘We’re out of the bubble.’ He had tried to speak quietly, to keep it from being startlingly loud in the quiet, but the words came out in more of a terrified whisper.

‘I guess our seven minutes starts now.’ He saw the fugitive gleam of Karia’s implants as she turned her head from side to side as if trying to survey the space.

His own eyes were rapidly adjusting to the darkness, and he looked around him. What he saw was not particularly encouraging. There were big patches of sealant in several places as if covering up places where the metal seams had begun to part, and, worse, none of them seemed particularly fresh. The control panel in the corner, which would instruct the back panel whether or not to open into the hard vacuum of space, had a distinctly jerry-rigged look; Teonine was almost sure there were a couple of loose wires hanging from it, and the floor and walls in the other corner seemed to be darker than the rest of the airlock, as if blackened by fire. Teonine wondered whether he’d been too quick to dismiss the story of the girls who died in here during a game of ‘Take My Breath Away’ as a school legend.

As if reading his mind, Karia said: ‘Wow. We really might die in here.’

He blinked. ‘Wait - you can see?’

‘A bit.’ He saw her hand come up to point at her implants, and a wave of several different perfumes hit him at once, somehow. ‘Magic eyes. Courtesy of Mom and Dad.’

‘Oh. I guess mine are too. From my parents, I mean.’

She giggled as if his weak joke had been a lot funnier than it was. ‘So how much can you see in this light? How many fingers am I holding up?’

Teonine didn’t need to be able to see in the dark for that. ‘One. The middle one.’

‘Oh yeah?’ She thrust her hand in front of his face, trying to cover his eyes with her spread fingers while she waved the other one. ‘How about now?’

Teonine’s senses were suddenly flooded by conflicting chemical scents; he jerked his head away instinctively, choked on a hasty breath.

‘Hey - you OK?’ She drew back, looking concerned.

‘Yeah,’ Teonine said breathlessly, still trying to force down the choke that pinched at each inhalation. ‘Sorry - the perfume -’

‘Huh? Oh. Yeah, we were testing them out at the store, you know, Largxel’s? I guess we put on kind of a lot.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘I can’t even smell them any more. Is it awful?’

‘No, it’s just - a lot -’

‘Maybe it’ll help if it’s just one scent. Hang on.’ She pushed up her jacket sleeves and sniffed at her wrists and forearms. Teonine saw dark slashes streaking her skin, and thought for a wild second they were wounds, but then realised they were cosmetics of different shades, sampled on her forearms and the backs of her hands. ‘Here - I think this one’s the nicest. Just try to smell that.’

She lifted her right wrist to his face, so close in front of his nose that it almost grazed her skin; his head swam again.

‘Just breathe,’ she told him, her voice carrying such authority that he automatically did what he was told, concentrating on the strongest scent, the perfume she’d told him was the nicest. He knew he knew the different components of it, the creamy notes on top and the earthy, dried body, but he couldn’t put the right names to them; he just concentrated on breathing them in, focusing on that one scent as, slowly, his overwhelmed senses calmed down.

‘Better?’ she asked him, still holding her wrist up to his face.

‘Mmm-hmmm.’ Teonine wanted to nod, but he knew if he did his nose would touch her skin, so he tried to shrug with his body while keeping his head perfectly still. ‘Yeah. How did you know that would work?’

‘When I got my implants …’ She trailed off, and then gave him a wry smile, finally pulling her wrist away from his face. ‘Let’s just say I get it. Being overwhelmed by something other people are barely aware of.’

‘Oh.’ Teonine had heard the other kids circulating some story about how she got the implants; something about needing them to repair damage sustained in some Imperial bombing, some outpost somewhere where her parents were serving, he hadn’t really been listening. ‘Do they - I mean, did it hurt?’

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘You just have to focus on one thing, and shut out everything else. Everything’s fine when you learn to do that.’ She lifted one hand as if to touch his tresses, but stopped short. ‘Aren’t those band-things supposed to filter out … stuff?’

Teonine fought the urge to flick them back over his shoulders. ‘They block. They don’t filter. But sometimes -’

‘I get it. Making a mental note not to wear seven different perfumes next time I go to make out with a Nautolan.’

Teonine had almost been starting to, if not relax, then unwind slightly, but at the mention of making out his hearts jumped so hard he felt as if he’d been punched in both sides of his chest simultaneously.

‘I haven’t, you know. Made out with a Nautolan before.’ She was definitely standing closer to him than she had been before. ‘Have you? Made out with a human?’

‘Uh -’ Teonine felt like distant areas of his brain were fusing together. ‘I - um -’

‘But you’ve, you know. You’ve done this before.’ Karia laid it out like a statement, but it was unmistakably a question.

The air was definitely getting thinner in here. ‘I don’t -’ He didn’t know how to explain that he avoided the dumb kids that played this game, avoided being on this shuttle, avoided everything. ‘I never got picked before.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t have to go into a dark airlock to kiss someone. You can just, you know, kiss them.’

When she made it sound so simple it was difficult to point out that maybe she could, but he couldn’t. Teonine floundered, trying to figure out what he could say that would convey how hopelessly out of his depth he was without betraying, well, how hopelessly out of his depth he was.

He got as far as ‘Um -’

‘So you’ve never kissed anyone. That’s cute.’ She adjusted her stance, shifting closer into him; he felt her torso brush against the arm he still had wrapped around his front, clutching on to the tubing concealed beneath his shirt. ‘Do you want to?’

There was that question again.

He felt the faintest tug as Karia curled her fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, not pulling, just resting there. Now he couldn’t smell anything but the perfume she’d got him to focus on; it seemed to envelop them both like a cloud, cutting them off from the rest of the galaxy. She was looking up at him, her head tilted back and her expression soft, and she was -

She was really pretty.

The thought took hold of him so suddenly he felt as if the ground had dropped away from beneath his feet; maybe he could do what she obviously expected him to, just bend down and kiss her, just as easily as she had taken his hand before. Maybe he could just lean down and put his lips on hers and let whatever happened, happen. Maybe it really could be that simple …

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, definitely almost about to do it, when she tilted her head to one side, looked up at him through her eyelashes, and said, ‘You know, I bet your mom would hate it if she knew you were in here with me.’

Just like that, whatever Teonine had been tentatively feeling was erased as if it had never been. ‘What?’ he said, too loudly.

‘Isn’t she some big-time senator? I bet she’d hate it if she knew her son was alone in a little dark airlock with me.’ Karia’s hand in his sweatshirt tugged lightly, teasing. ‘Did she warn you to stay away from me?’

In point of fact, Senator Lunulata had called before Karia even arrived at the school to warn Teonine to avoid her (‘She’s the kind of misguided young woman who could seriously impede the pursuit of your goals, sweetheart’). But Teonine didn’t feel the smallest desire to tell Karia that. His hangover had suddenly returned in full force, hammering in his temples and lurching in his stomach and hot little prickles breaking out all over his skin, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed, or at least out of this airlock.

Karia’s hand released its grip on his sweatshirt; numbly, he could feel it travelling slowly up his chest. ‘Did she tell you I was a bad girl?’

There was a distant lurch of the shuttle on the rails, and Teonine’s stomach heaved in tandem; he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second and managed not to be sick, but it made him feel like he was falling backwards. He opened his eyes, but the falling continued.

Her hand was sliding around his collar now, towards the back of his neck, and her face seemed closer, somehow. ‘Do you know why they call me a bad girl, little fish?’

He shook his head, unable to open his mouth for fear he’d be sick. The floor of the airlock seemed to be sliding out from under his feet, tipping him backwards, and there was a faint whistling sound like air was escaping somewhere.

Her hand was pushing against the back of his neck, tugging his head downwards, and he felt her breath against his jaw as she whispered: ‘Wouldn’t you like to?’

The shuttle swayed again, and his stomach was yanked out from under him, and Teonine fell.

There was something cold and metal behind his head, and a raised voice. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled automatically.

‘What?’ A girl’s voice. Panicked. ‘What did you say? Are you OK?’

‘Sorry,’ Teonine said again. There was cold metal underneath his legs and butt too, and it seemed to be rumbling and jolting. He put out a hand, and felt more metal, vibrating under his hand with an unmistakable rhythm.

Shuttle. The word set up a train of associations in Teonine’s mind. Shuttle. Airlock. Dark. Cramped. And …

‘Oh fuck.’ He put both hands on his face, and felt how cold and clammy his skin was. ‘Oh fuck.’

‘Dude, you have got to tell me if you’re OK.’

Teonine opened his eyes. He was half-sitting, half-leaning against the bulkhead which had been behind him, his legs sprawled out on the floor in front of him; and kneeling between them, looking scared, was Karia.

‘Are you all right?’ she demanded.

He’d fainted. A girl had tried to kiss him, and he’d fainted.

‘I’m OK. I’m fine.’ He pushed himself backwards, or tried to, but his hands slipped, too damp to get a purchase on the grimy metal floor. ‘Sorry.’

‘You just went down.’ She was pale, and the darkness of the airlock drained the colour from her virulently orange hair. ‘I was just - and then I saw all these colours go off on your, your things -’ She gestured to his shoulder. ‘And then you just went really green and you - you passed out.’

Clearly, his protective colouration had kicked in, a display to warn away predators. Teonine didn’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed about that, even though to another Nautolan it would be the equivalent of pissing his pants. He shifted. No, at least he hadn’t done that. ‘I’m OK.’

‘Are you sure?’ She reached a hand towards his head. ‘You still look pale -’

Teonine flinched away; he thought he might actually die on the spot if she touched him right now. ‘It’s OK, it’s just - I was -’ He sought wildly for an excuse. ‘I’m - I guess I panicked. I’m claustrophobic.’

In the half-light, he thought she gave him a strange look, but what she said was: ‘Oh. Oh shit.’ She scooted backwards towards the other end of the airlock, giving him as much space as she could. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Teonine passed a hand over his clammy forehead; the pain in his temples had subsided to a dull but persistent throbbing. ‘I mean, you didn’t know.’

‘Yeah, but I ask you to come in here, I put you on the spot in front of everybody -’ She waved her hand at the wall adjoining the rest of the compartment.

Teonine wouldn’t have believed his spirits could sink any lower, but at the reminder that the rest of the kids from their class were on the other side of the partition, waiting with bated breath to hear what had happened on this side, they slipped another few notches.

Karia clearly picked up that she wasn’t helping, because she cut herself off in mid-sentence, eyed him warily for a second. ‘Don’t worry. Just breathe, OK?’ She checked her wrist chronometer. ‘We’ll be inside the school’s bubble in a couple of minutes, and then you can get out.’

Get out and begin the rest of his academic career as the freak Nautolan who fainted when a girl tried to kiss him. And to think that this morning he’d genuinely believed his life couldn’t get any worse.

Karia was rooting in her shoulder bag. ‘I really thought I had some water in here. Do you have any? You should have some water.’

‘Huh? No. I don’t have any.’

‘That’s ironic,’ she said nervously. ‘You’re, like, a fish out of water. A fish out of -’ She caught his eye. ‘Never mind.’ She sat back against the wall, hugging her knees, mirroring Teonine’s posture. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? You really don’t look so good.’

‘I’m fine.’ Seeing her sit like that made Teonine suddenly realise he was missing something. He bolted upright, patting down the front of his sweatshirt -

‘Looking for this?’ Karia held up one end of the plastic tubing. It had clearly come loose and slithered out onto the floor.

‘Uh - yeah.’

‘I nearly had a heart attack when I saw it coming out from underneath your sweatshirt. I thought it was, like, your weird Nautolan intestines or something. Or your dick.’

Teonine, caught mid-inhalation, spluttered. His head throbbed again. ‘Thanks.’ He yanked the tubing towards him. ‘It’s - uh - I need it for class - it's a science project -’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Just tell me if you’re building a bomb to blow up the school. I’ll help.’

Teonine smiled weakly. ‘It’s nothing. I - well - I’ll show you sometime.’

‘Sure you will, little fish.’ Karia glanced at her wrist again. ‘We really are nearly out, I promise.’

‘No, it’s OK, I just -’ Teonine broke off, biting his lip.

She looked concerned again. ‘What? What’s up?’

Could you maybe not tell everyone - not tell anyone - about that thing where I fainted on you? He couldn’t even muster up the energy to try to form the words, despite the growing knot in his stomach when he thought about the looks on Fralx and Fotze’s faces. ‘Nothing.’ He leaned his head back against the wall and longed for his bed.

Distantly he heard her say, ‘It’s OK, you know. I’m not going to say anything.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Teonine mumbled.

‘I mean it,’ she insisted. ‘We just won’t say anything about what we did.’

‘Then they’ll assume I freaked out or did something weird,’ Teonine said wearily. ‘It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.’

‘You know what? You’re right. It is fine. Because I’m going to fix it.’ She clapped her hands, startling Teonine out of his daze, and jumped to her feet. ‘Give me a sec.’

Puzzled, he watched as she ran her hands violently through her short blood-orange hair until it lost its carefully-defined flicks and stood out from her head in a fuzzy sort of way. Then she undid the second-to-top button on her shirt. Lastly, she did a weird sort of dance on the spot, jumping up and down vigorously and slapping her cheeks.

‘What are you doing?’ Teonine asked.

‘Trust me.’ She stood stock still for a minute, and Teonine thought she was mouthing something at him, until he realised she was trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and scraping her top teeth over it.

Then she dug in her bag and pulled out a shiny tube of something - lipstick, Teonine realised, as she opened it and scrutinised the colour. She smudged some on her thumb and carefully dabbed her lips with it, then turned to Teonine. ‘Up.’

He pulled his feet in and slid his back up the wall until he was standing; his head swum a little, but he stayed upright. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Making you look the right kind of mess.’ She painted more lipstick on her thumb, reached out to touch him and then hesitated. ‘May I?’

Teonine still didn’t know what she was doing, but he nodded anyway.

She reached out and carefully brushed her thumb against the corner of his mouth, then, seemingly as an afterthought, smudged it against the collar of his sweatshirt. She scrutinised him narrowly, then, apparently satisfied, nodded and put the lipstick into her pocket.

‘Now,’ she instructed, ‘when we get out there, just wipe it off with the back of your hand and look embarrassed.’

Teonine touched the corner of his mouth gingerly with his fingertip. ‘That part’s not going to be a problem.’

‘If somebody asks you what we did in here -’

‘They won’t.’

‘- Just don’t say anything and act like you’re too cool to talk about it. I’ll handle the rest. Trust me, I know just what to say.’

Karia looked down at the tubing he was still holding. ‘Should we try and stash this? Or fit it in my bag? No,’ she decided, ‘stick it back up your sweatshirt. If anybody looks, they’ll just think you’re trying to cover up a boner.’

Teonine, trying to wrap the tubing back around his midriff, choked again and dropped one end.

Karia rolled her eyes and stooped to pick it up. ‘Oh, come here.’

‘Thanks,’ Teonine mumbled, head swimming again as she turned him around with a hand on his shoulder, then back to face her again, wrapping the tubing around his abdomen where it could be concealed by his baggy sweatshirt. ‘You don’t have to … Thanks.’

‘One thing about me, little fish? I might get my friends into trouble, but I always get them out of it.’ She tucked the end of the tube underneath the coils. ‘There. That should be OK until you get back to your room. I’d tell you to go straight back there, but you always do.’

Teonine knew she was trying to make him smile. He knew he should want to smile. Instead, he said, too loudly: ‘You don’t have to be nice to me, you know.’

She laughed, picking up her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. ‘Yes, I do,’ she said, briskly. ‘If only because I triggered your … claustrophobia.’

A shudder passed through the floor and walls, and Teonine heard the faint thunk of seals relaxing, pressure equalising, as the shuttle passed through the atmospheric shield and into the school’s bubble.

Karia was already kneeling by the hatch. She turned to look back at him over her shoulder. ‘There’s another reason, of course,’ she said provocatively. ‘For being nice to you.’

Teonine tensed. ‘What?’

‘Well, you owe me one now, little fish.’ She winked at him. ‘Don’t forget, will you? I know I won’t.’

Teonine knew she was teasing, but as he squatted down beside her and waited for Voka Ginn to unseal the hatch, he felt the familiar, leaden weight of obligation settling into his stomach.

Part Two here.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #swtor fic #oc kiss week #oc: teo lunulata #oc: devinahl #other people's cool ocs #how do you do fellow kids #overuse of the word skrag

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lisaleigh713 · 3 years

Text

Bo and Vail

Bo approached me at school Wednesday a week ago and said, “we need to get away and do something fun.” I agreed and asked him to meet me at the airport Friday morning and to bring a bag.

Bo met me at about 10:00 a.m. with bag in hand, dropped his car and jumped in mine. We headed over to the hanger where my plane was sortied. I thanked the tug guy, opened the door and told Bo, to get in. Bo looked perplexed. “Baby, this is one of my planes we have with my company, or will be next year when I turn 25.” He had this shocked look on his face and then got on. We stowed our bags in the cabin as it was not much and I closed the door.

As we were on the APU I made a couple cups of coffee, one for him and one for me and proceeded to the flight deck. I started the procedure to get us airborne. I had filed my flight plan from the house and dropped it before Bo had arrived. I like redundancy so I check, double check, triple check and sometimes quadruple check.

Once the battery system came on and the engines started up I motioned for the APU to be disconnected from my plane and now we were on our own. I grabbed the checklist and began checking things off then I thought, “let Bo read and I will check of the pre-flight.” We worked well with each other on the flight deck.

On comms, Bo said, “this is a lot of fun.” “Baby you ain’t seen nothing yet!” I retorted. I inched the throttle forward after checking all controls and we moved from the hanger area to the taxiway. I called out my planes number to the ATC and waited for instructions. We were instructed to taxi to runway 6 and hold. We had to wait for an inbound to land and then we were cleared to the runway.

One last check and with permission from ATC I pushed the throttle slowly forward, waited for takeoff speed, rotate and we were airborne. Wheels up and climb out to 5000’ change heading and climb to 28,000’ to Vail, CO.

Set auto and then to relax. Bo was in awe of the experience and as such was, well, excited. I thought I would tease him a bit and then on the return flight let him fuck me in the cock pit. I rubbed his cock and somehow, it broke free so I just had to suck it bringing him to the brink of ecstasy but deny him an orgasm.

We had another cup of coffee and we talked. I got more in depth about the company my dad started many years ago. Bo knew about the business as he had researched it. Then I fully explained to him about my mom and dads passing plus our relationship up until then. I explained, more but not all, how the company is fully mine next year on my 25th birthday. I explained our holdings and property we, as a company, and individually, owned. We have a house in Vail, CO. and this house was our destination. We have property in other states and countries but that would have to wait until another time. Perhaps over Christmas we could fly out to Switzerland.

We were cleared by ATC and then on final and touchdown. I had a rental car waiting for us at the terminal. We disembarked, grabbing our bags and then headed to the house. We touched down just after noon, local time, and so not very hungry. This gave us time to unpack and make a few decisions where we wanted to eat. Bo was also interested in driving around town a bit so we got in the car and headed to town. It was fairly cool outside and a bit of snow was coming in later.

We had lunch and then back to the house. For some reason we were both tired and decided to lay down for a short nap. About an hour later, we woke and decided we should get in the hot tub. As we are secluded, we were able to do so naked. I sat in Bo’s lap as he began to kiss my neck and then my breast, then sucking on my nipples. Bo’s cock was hard and pushing against my ass. I rose slightly, grabbed his cock with my hand and guided him into my pussy. He felt so good deep inside me. He fucked me and pulled my hair for a good hour before he came deep inside my pussy filling me to overflowing.

“Lets grab some dinner and drinks baby,” I said to Bo. “Then we probably need to get dressed if we are going in to town Sweetheart,” replied. Bo I went in to the bathroom and began putting on my makeup and deciding what to wear. I put on a nice, almost see through, LBD. I had on a pair of black seamed stockings with a lacy garter belt; a pair of 6” black stilettos and a black lace half cup lace bra rounded out the ensemble. I wore my hair down in a loose curl, my eyes were a smoky gray/black and lips a deep wet red color. My mani/pedi were a deep wet red to match my luscious lips. Of course I wear Chanel No. 5 or nothing at all.

Bo wore a nice black pin-stripe single breast suit with a very nice red silk tie. I saw him as I came out of the bathroom and my pussy started dripping immediately. I had to get control of myself or we would not be going out. I put my hands on his muscular chest as he reached down to hug me and give me a deep and passionate kiss. As it was getting cold outside, I grabbed my 5 meter length Mink coat and we proceeded to dinner.

We talked and talked about life and even school. We decided to go dancing a bit after dinner and found a nice little place to spend some quality time dancing in each others arms. While Bo was holding me I whispered in his ear, “take me home and make love to me.” He did exactly that. We left and snow was coming down and everything was pristine.

We arrived at the house and Bo made love to me. Sure I love a good fucking where I get pounded and pounded; having my ass and face slapped multiple times. Yes, I love getting my asshole slammed over and over with a giant hard cock. I love having my nipples bit, pulled and my massive tits slapped over and over. But tonight I wanted a man, Bo, to make love to me.

I sucked his cock until it was hard enough to drive a railroad spike through a 4x4. I laid on my back and he slipped in between my legs and pushed his cock all the way up to my womb with one single thrust. I wrapped my legs around his back. My stocking clad legs rubbing against his back and my heels dug into his ass. I was pulling him into me every time he pushed his large cock into my wet pussy.

He kissed me while fucking me which in turn made me cum all over his beautiful cock and after about 30 minutes he exploded in my womb filling me with his hot cum. Bo lay on top of me for another 15 minutes or so and I could feel his cock slowly returning to normal. I would have been content with sleeping just like this all night.

Bo finally rolled off of me and I threw a leg across him, laid my head on his chest and with his arm around me we fell asleep together. It was such a peaceful sleep. I woke the next morning early to ready myself. When Bo woke I wanted to look presentable as he may want to fuck me again in the morning before breakfast. So a grabbed a quick shower and threw on a bit of makeup. Always do the eyes and mouth before going out or waking with a lover.

I threw on my see through black full length robe and a pair of 5 inch stiletto heels and went to the kitchen to fix us some coffee and a little food. Coffee is on and I am beginning to prep the food for cooking when I feel Bo behind me. He is naked with a raging turgid cock. He slaps my ass with his cock and when I turned around he kissed me extremely hard but passionately. Bo pushed me, like he had to, to my knees where I came face to face with his cock.

Bo slapped me a few times in the face with his cock before I could get my lips around in and then down my throat. Bo fucked my face for a bit then looking me in the eyes said, “turn around, I want to fuck that tight little ass of yours.” Of course I did as commanded. I bent over, my tits on the cold granite countertop. Bo moved my robe, spread my ass and pushed his cock all the way to his balls with one full move.

I could not contain myself and screamed. Bo grabbed a full fist of my hair and began fucking my asshole. Within a couple of minutes I was coming. Bo’s enormous balls were slapping my clitoris with every thrust and it felt so good. “Please don’t stop baby. Fuck my ass hard. Make me your slut whore baby.” With every word Bo slammed his cock in my harder. With every thrust into me, I shoved back onto his cock. After a bit, Bo slammed his cock hard and deep into my ass. He moaned and grunted which I knew meant he was cumming. He came and came and came some more in my ass.

After a couple of minutes he withdrew his cock. I exclaimed, “I wish I had my plug to keep your cum inside me.” Bo pushed on my back as he removed his cock and slammed my plug in to my ass. “Wow! FUCK!” I was not expecting that but I was glad he thought of it. He is very thoughtful. I turned around, got on my knees and like a good slut whore cleaned off his cock.

We sat and enjoyed a nice breakfast and some coffee then dressed. It was time to see the country side. We drove around town some more then out to the mountains. We found a little place to have a bite of lunch and then resume our sightseeing. We did a little shopping and returned home. I needed to do a bit of work. I had to file another return flight plan as snow was expected for our departure.

While doing some computer work and checking nav charts, Bo crawled under the table, took my leggings off, spread my legs and heartedly ate my pussy. Mind you, I have had this plug in my ass all day which was not unusual for me but Bo had forgotten about it. I started cumming and cumming. Then Bo stuck two fingers in my pussy, then three then four. Fuck nav charts, Bo then pushed his hand into my pussy and while inside my pussy made a fist and slowly moved it around.

That’s it, I began squirting all over his face and he was catching as much as he could in his mouth. He fisted me for another 30 minutes or so and when he was done so was I. I was spent. I couldn’t even see straight when Bo removed the plug from my ass and shoved it in my open mouth. He made me clean it off and when he was satisfied he shoved it back in my ass.

A couple hours later and I was able to finish what I needed to for Sunday. We went to bed, and I thought he would fuck me but he didn’t. “What did I do wrong?” “Was I not dressed sexy enough?” I finally dosed off. When we woke I made a pot of coffee and we sat down to drink a cup and ready ourselves for the flight home.

I called ahead to make sure the GS 450 was fueled and ready for me. I slipped on a black shirt with a white shirt. Of course stockings and heels, why would you even ask. Yes, yes I had on my 5 inch stilettos too. Damn pervs! Anywho!!!

We arrived, did the pre-flight, started up. You know the routine. ATC gave us permission and away we went. We climbed out to 27,000’ and time for a cup of coffee. I turned around expecting Bo to hand me a coffee, instead he pushed his hard cock into my mouth. Bo fucked my throat at 27,000 ft. which was a turn on for both of us but he wanted to join the mile high club.

I pulled my shirt down, freed the girls, stood up and bent over. Bo pushed his cock into my pussy. He screamed and grunted and moaned. He slapped my ass repeatedly. He even took his fist and hit the plug in my ass of course sending me over the edge. He continued for awhile and seemed to even enjoy the bit of turbulence we had. He wanted to come in my mouth and so when he was ready I pulled his cock out and shoved it in my mouth. He didn’t last but a few strokes and exploded in my mouth and down my throat.

We landed and headed home. Bo needed to get back to his house to grade some papers so we said our goodbyes and he left. What a wonderful weekend I had.

Love and Kisses,

Lisa

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sullustangin · 3 years

Text

Fluffy February #9: Date Night

3627 (26 ATC)

“Hiding in plain sight once again.” Risha came up to Eva as she surveyed the gambling floor.

Eva gave her a smile. Risha noticed that had changed – no longer as reckless and brilliant as it had been. “EC has returned to the pazaak tables of the galaxy, and the fine bosses of Canto Bight have no idea about her day job at the moment.”

More than ten years on, nobody had figured out that EC, Eva Corolastor, the Voidhound, and the Alliance Commander were all the same person.

EC the pazaak player had disappeared at the onset of the war with the Eternal Empire. Now she had returned, and Canto Bight was her first stop. The planet had successfully parlayed this into a promotional tournament to restart commerce in a post Eternal Empire galaxy.

“What’s the mark?” Risha sipped her drink.

Eva raised her chin toward a small group of Chiss watching a player at a table at the far end of the hall. “We’re doing a little bit of legwork for Aristocra Saganu to atone for some of damage done by the traitor Zenta. She had help before she herself was betrayed.” Eva sipped her gin and tonic.

Risha scanned the floor. “So, the nature of business?”

“The old act I used to do – exchange pazaak decks to commemorate the win, but both are laced with intel. You should see the cards Koth made – guy’s talents were wasted in the armed forces.”

“I trust we’re getting something in exchange?” Risha set her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed one of the small appetizers that were being passed around.

Eva tipped her glass toward the lounge pianist, who occasionally sang as he played. “I pull him on his break at the bar. He takes me upstairs to his room on the employee side of the hotel. I tire him out. I use his computer terminal to slice some information out of the casino about some of their guests and then transmit the whole package.”

Risha checked Eva’s left ring finger: bare. “Aren’t you a little old for these games?”

Eva threw back the last of her drink, the ice rattling in her glass. “I’m in my prime, according to the girly magazines.”

A few rounds of sabacc and a drink later, Risha found herself alone at the top of the casino, looking down again at the entire floor. Despite nearly seven years apart, she never lost the skill of picking Eva out of a crowd. It helped that the green nanite-threaded cloth dress glittered as the casino lights caught it; the outfit refused to be ignored, while the lady’s face could be, one of the tricks of the trade that Eva and Risha had figured out over the years.

Eva won her table, as usual. A consoling embrace and a handshake were exchanged between her and her Chiss opponent, along with the deck of cards. Risha checked the chrono. The hour was about to strike, which meant that the pianist was about to go on break. Risha watched him finish up the song, then get a round of applause as he stood up. There were a few ladies that came over to compliment him, but none of them were under the age of 75.

As he took his seat at the bar, the pianist became absorbed with a menu he’d probably read a hundred times before. Then Eva descended upon him. Risha watched the game play out. She’d done it at least as often as Eva had.

The conversation always started with compliments and discussion about the music he’d played. He’d be self-effacing until it became clear this broad had some special knowledge about the pieces he’d chosen – there was a pattern, a sentimental reason, some music school flashback, or technical rationale for the selection.

The musician would remember his manners and ask her to have a drink with him. She’d insist on paying; he wouldn’t object. They’d move on to other topics, like her exquisite taste in clothing or her skill at the tables. Now it was her turn to play humble and coy. Then they’d talk about where their careers in casinos had taken them – how far beyond the stars had one gone compared to their companion. Then another drink (he’d insist this time), then one or both of them would get a little brave with touching the other. If he was a nice man (which this one was), he’d hesitate and make a joke to ensure Eva was on the same page he was (she always was). Careful hands would go to her hand, then perhaps to the side of her face. She’d return the gesture by squeezing his knee, then maybe making a comment about his tie or the quality of his shirt or something that would lead her to touch his chest.

One of them would get impatient with this dance – Risha watched as the pianist cast a look at the barkeep to see if he was watching just as Eva decided to lean over toward him and make several suggestions about the rest of their evening. Now he moved quickly to settle whatever outstanding debts there were, his hand moving to the hem of her dress, the silky sheer of her stockings under those well-trained fingers.

And then they were off, his hand at the small of her back as they rapidly made their way to the employees’ elevator, as Eva anticipated. As the elevator doors opened for them, Risha saw his hand migrate further south, and before the doors closed, he had her pinned to the wall of the elevator in a rather passionate kiss, her hands already working at his tie and the buttons of his shirt, his hands working up under her skirt, a flash of garter as the doors closed.

Mission successful for Eva.

Risha sighed. Her friends were such weirdos. This is what they considered a fun date night – Theron learning a bunch of dreadful lounge music, disappearing for a few weeks, then pretending not to know his wife when she appeared; Eva executing one of the covert ops he designed, showing off her skills at the pazaak table, wearing something beautiful yet deadly (at least three concealed weapons), and ‘finding’ a talented, lonely musician at the bar in order to get the secured comm link access needed to transmit the information back to Odessen.

Risha looked at the bottom of her glass. Weirdos, but happily married weirdos. Risha flagged down the waiter for just one more drink, and from her place at the top of the gambling floors, she toasted them. “Happy first anniversary.”

#swtor #swtor fan fiction #risha drayen #theron shan #smuggler #theron shan x smuggler #fluffy february

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notalittlebutalottie · 4 years

Text

Writing Reflection: Against the Cards {Klaroline}

Thinking about Against the Cards + Against the World and I can’t believe I even finished it... I know some people really like it, but I have so many negative associations with that story and I thought since it’s been two years since I finished the original AtC and a few months since AtW was wrapped up, I would discuss it.

How did I come to write it?

The first time I wrote it, I was in my first semester of university, lying in bed. I’m not sure how I came up with it, but I remember writing that first line ‘She could not help it. She just could not fucking help it. That bitch’ and going from there. I just wanted to write a story where Caroline had had enough of people telling her how she should feel and dealt with her resentment towards Elena. It was originally intended as a one-shot, but it spiralled and ended up a full story. I think my biggest goal with it was to just actually finish a WIP for once!

Which do I prefer? Against the Cards or Against the World?

Against the World will always win for me. Though I’m happy with certain aspects of Against the Cards, the sequel is something I can view more positively. Here’s why: the quality of writing is better in both narration and dialogue; the tone of the story is a lot more mature; it addresses Klaus’ faults as well as Caroline’s; and I think the ‘smut’ scene is both better quality-wise and in terms of its attributions to the story as a whole.

Why do I have negative associations with the story?

Back when I first published it, I liked it! However, as time has passed, I’ve felt a lot of negative emotions towards it. I don’t think the writing was as polished in AtC regarding grammar, dialogue, and certain areas of narration. AtC is the first story I completed for this fandom, so I felt a lot of pressure from the reviews that expected things to happen in the way that they wanted. AtC is home to my first ever smut scene but it is my least favourite piece of writing I have done thus far. After I finished it, I received a very mean review that called the fic ‘fucking stupid’ and likened Caroline to a doormat. I can joke about it now and I literally memed it last month(?) but it was so shit at the time. Personally, I think they were pissed because they got to the end of AtC and KC didn’t end up together, but the fic wasn’t about their romance, it was about Caroline’s personal growth. Yes, Caroline was insecure and bent to the will’s of others but...welcome to the conflict of the ENTIRE freaking story.

The largest negative association with AtW that I have is that I began it following a terribly long hiatus, I was on the brink of deleting all of my work and my tumblr, and I was getting a couple reviews at most. Some of the reviews left me feeling shit because on one hand, people were telling me ‘Caroline should get over it! They weren’t together because of her therefore she has no right to be angry that he slept with Hayley’ but then other reviews were saying ‘Klaus sucks. I don’t want them to be together’. And none of these reviews acknowledged my writing and the work I had done. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t try to change things for those reviews because it was an adult conflict; no single party was right or wrong and that’s how it works in real life. I was at an impasse with this story and finishing it was such a difficult mountain to climb. I’m proud of myself for finishing it, but it wasn’t an easy task.

The issue of smut

I thought this deserved it’s own little section because there are two smut scenes in the whole of this story and they are my least favourite and most interesting respectively. When I began AtC, KC’s first sexual encounter is not fully described, it’s just alluded to so it’s not really ‘smut’. And not to fault said reviewer (as this was a minor part of their larger comment), but someone commented their disappointment in not getting smut. This left me feeling a little pressured, that for people to really love the story, I had to write smut, which I had never done before, and so the smut scene I wrote for chapter 7 was incredibly forced and is uncomfortable for me to look back on. Objectively, it’s not terrible, but I was 20 years old and I didn’t really know myself sexually so how was I supposed to write something like that?

In contrast, AtW has a rather short smut scene in chapter 2 (chapter 16 on AO3) and I find it MUCH better. It was my third time writing smut, second being taken by Sing Me Sweet Nothings, but I just felt like it was much more realistic and just mature. The context of the scene is that KC are arguing over Klaus sleeping with Hayley until they reach this very high point of tension and they have sex. The reason why I like it so much is that it’s raw, emotional, and honest. It’s not meant to be arousing and overtly sexual, it’s meant to represent their conflicted feelings. They’ve been through so much and it feels like there’s always an obstacle, and they’re angry with each other and themselves so they know this isn’t the best circumstance to have sex under, but they want each other so badly.

What do I like about the story?

I love the ending of AtC! It was exactly what needed to happen and no one can convince me otherwise. I love Caroline’s personal growth from the beginning to the end! I like Elena’s characterisation for the most part and how she is referenced in AtW (because at the end of the day, it was never really about her). I like Hayley’s characterisation because she’s not just some mega-bitch out to cause havoc in KC land, she’s just living her life and she’s not suddenly being like “heeeeey bestie” to Caroline after the conflict ends. I adore the kitchen scene in chapter 1 of AtC; I think the tension is wonderful! There’s a substantial amount of dialogue I do love in AtC! And lastly, I love that I finished it! 😂 I see it as a personal triumph.

So there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this rambling of mine. I know I might come off as harsh, but I wanted to be honest in my reflection. I thank you for reading this if you have made it to the bottom and I thank you for reading the story. - Lottie

Never read Against the Cards + Against the World? Read it [here]!

#klaroline #klaus and caroline #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #writing reflection #against the cards #against the world #fanfiction

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sith-shenanigans · 4 years

Text

Liminality - Survival Gambit, Part One

***

10 ATC, 35:8 / 33 Adast, 1576

Korriban

Here was the price—

But that didn’t matter.

“You want to talk?” Ahene said, in a voice that was as cold and quiet as the whisper in her mind. “Fine, then. Start talking.”

“I’m sorry,” Balek blurted out immediately. “I didn’t want to do this—it’s not personal, it’s not. We have to do it. It’s not personal.”

Wydr shot him a look. “Quiet. You’re not helping.” He took a step forwards, nudging Kory’s ankle with his foot to keep her in time. “Acolyte. This is a competition. You know that—yes?”

Ahene very carefully did not reach for her weapon. Her hands barely twitched. “I am familiar with the concept, yes.”

“Then you know what this is about.”

“Obviously,” she said. “But go ahead and tell me anyway. I might be surprised.”

It was Kory who spoke, eyes still closed, face still much too calm. “They want to kill you. They want to hold me hostage so you’ll hesitate. Ahene, don’t worry about me, just—”

“Quiet!” snapped Wydr, pressing the saber chokehold-tight for a moment. “I’ll offer you a deal, acolyte. Your life for hers. Best you’ll get; say no, and you both die.”

“Oh, really?” whispered Ahene. “And how do you figure that?”

An exchange of glances ensued, in varying degrees of bewilderment. “It’s—it’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Balek. “You’re outnumbered. And we liked you, we really did, but… Harkun gave us orders. We kill you, we get to go home.”

“You realize he’s lying?” Ahene said, holding Wydr’s gaze. “You’ve met him, Wydr. Why do you think for a moment that he would keep his promises?”

He grimaced. “It doesn’t matter. It’s our only chance.”

“It’s not,” said Kory, suddenly; he must have eased up on her throat. “You could go to Spindrall. He—he takes in failed acolytes.”

“And uses them as cannon fodder.”

Ahene lifted one shoulder in a minute shrug. “So? And Harkun isn’t now?”

“He’s offered us a way home,” Wydr said. “To let us leave the planet. That tomb is just a slower death.”

“I see you’ve thought all this out,” said Ahene drily. “Except for the obvious issue, of course.”

Curiosity won out. “What obvious issue?” he asked, wariness flickering under his Force-scarred skin.

Ahene smiled, thin and slow, doing her very best to make it look like Kelshrin’s. She needed Wydr to hesitate, no matter how much she hated bluffing. “It’s simple,” she said, with all the distant composure she could fake. “You don’t have a sapien shield. You have a large, awkward object that will stop you from getting the first strike, and you”—she took a step forwards—“have severely underestimated what I’m willing to do.”

He hesitated.

There was a fury that burned like ice, high and deep and nameless. It didn’t snarl. It didn’t lash out. It saw, and chose.

Ahene’s fingers closed around the training saber like a vise.

Things happened very quickly after that. She yanked, hard; her fingers erupted in burning pain; Kory put an elbow in Wydr’s gut; Balek swung his weapon. Ahene spun, parried with the saber—lit saber, held by the wrong end, oh Void she should probably let go of that—and followed up with lightning as the ow hot bad idea went flying. Behind her, Wydr was trying to get an arm around Kory’s throat, and Kory ducked and pulled back and his weapon came to her hand, and then he was staggering back with a long scorch along his arm.

Ahene dodged to the side, keeping out of the way of Balek’s very correctly angled strikes, her burned right hand twitching and sparking, and—yes, she could use pain, couldn’t she? She caught it in her mind and twisted it back on itself, distraction into determination, and another crackle of energy surged through the dry air. It caught Balek in the chest and dropped him, sand coming up in a cloud around his body.

Back where Kory was keeping Wydr at bay, there was an eruption of red raw fury, and then Ahene slammed into the wall.

A moment later, Kory slammed into her.

“I’m going to kill you,” Wydr said, as Ahene wondered why the stone had to be so hard, and what exactly broken ribs felt like. “Both of you. Doesn’t matter if I get back to Hutta. I’m going to kill you for this.” He held out a hand, and his brother’s saber shot towards him—

And Ahene held out her left, begging it to come to her instead—

Wydr caught it without issue, eyes glittering yellow in the shadow of the wall. “You killed my brother,” he said.

Ahene lifted her injured hand—pain is power is a tool is survival—and met his gaze. “You took Kory hostage.”

He charged. She and Kory dove to either side as if they’d practiced it, and he slipped in a way that should have sent him sprawling but didn’t—somehow he threw himself towards the wall and caught it, and then he was up on the wall for a moment, nearly sideways, and then he pushed away again and launched himself towards Ahene. Fast. Too fast. She managed to dodge anyway, drawing him back towards the path, but it was a near thing. He moved in ways that nobody should have moved. Like Talvara had, on the other side of that shattered-glass before-and-after.

It occurred to Ahene, as she wove out of the way of his slashes, that she was doing it too. Her speed came from something besides her muscles, which was obvious, but meant—

She could be faster.

(A swing came down towards her.)

She could try harder.

(She flung herself to the side, and it missed.)

Instinct was a good start. Instinct wasn’t enough. Not with Wydr after her, swinging with crushing force—keeping her moving instead of throwing lightning at him. Sand swirled around them as he pursued her across the path, shifting ground going to hard metal and then back again. The dust was choking, eye-stinging, whirling through the air even before it was disturbed…

He’s causing a sandstorm. It was only a small one, but it was building quickly, and it moved with him at its center. Ahene had been leading him away from Kory and the wall and the holocron—now he was pushing her towards the guardrail bordering one of the Valley’s smaller cliff-faces. She gritted her teeth and drove herself to the limit, throwing herself under a strike and hitting the ground and popping up behind him, hand screaming from the force of her brief landing, but oh, it was better than taking her chances with the drop.

The air still howled past her, trying to shove her back towards him. It was getting worse. And Wydr wasn’t tiring, wasn’t slowing, was here with her in an ever-tightening circle, and taking out the blade wouldn’t be enough or even close. Instinct told her he’d shatter bone with his bare fists, right now. Instinct told her he’d keep going past his heart’s final beat. Instinct told her—Korriban was laughing. Here is the price.

Ahene took her instincts into her hands like a burning brand, shoved through the sandstorm and into a shadow that might have been a valley, and told them—

Blind him.

The Force pushed back.

Blind him, Ahene thought, with all her desperation and clarity. Hide me. Put out his eyes and leave him in the dark, hide me in this dark, I will not be seen—

And the shadows wrapped around her like she had always known they would.

Read more (Ao3)

#io's writing #canon: liminality

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enigmatic-elegance · 4 years

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Mas’ Must Follow MASterpost

[In no particular order]

People

@risrielthron One of the best. You will feel as if you are talking with your lifelong friend. Sweet, friendly, and generous. A true example of who we should all try to be more like.

@theodorebennas Daddy Beans. Chill dude. Knows he can be a bit of a meme and owns it. Actually extremely smart and has a ton of good sense. Crusade!

@tanzrielle Super chill in the most not chill way. Will talk your ear off about their awesome characters and want to hear all about your own too. Great person to know and bounce ideas off of.

@thebattlesheep @a-sheep-does-art Sweet thing. Loves to meet new people. Does not RP much but when they do they kill it.

@possum Loser. (Seriously such a humorous, sweet, and all around amazing person.)

@wiedaashcroft Really great character, and the person who plays them is extremely laid back and chill.

@the-petalpaw-family They don’t RP as much right now, but their stories and characters are next level. No lie, they take things like plot and character lineage to places you rarely see. Amazing places.

@kat-hawke ICly very interesting and intense character. OOCly a more grounded individual. Blunt, but never cruel.

@darthscharactervault Someone who does not give themselves nearly enough credit for how creative they are with their ideas and characters.

@gwenya Often NSFW but she’s a gem of a person. Amazing, chill, down for whatever. She’s the raunchy friend you never knew you wanted.

@the-real-arcanist-val Smart person, fantastic writer, extremely sensible and rational. All around someone you want to know.

@vaard Never personally interacted with him, but he’s an iconic figure among the community. Everyone should follow. (Does not take commissions but is an amazing artist, too.)

@harvee-sarah-zena One of my closest RP partners. Might not post as much as they SHOULD but if you can catch them their RP is some amazing work. And their characters are all so unique.

@thegreatnyehehe Likely not returning to WoW any time soon, but still one of the best characters ever. To this day, worth reading through their posts.

@kinzorscarstorm Chill dude with a cool character. Have not interacted much IC, but respect them OOC for their char and methods.

@open-world-azeroth Not really a ‘person’ but a great resource for some fantastic RP spots.

@mediocre-bladeleaf Very cool aesthetic, and from what I see of their writings they have some awesome characters.

@draenei-tales Shout out to a fellow active and really cool looking Draenei RPer. All I see from them is extremely interesting.

@leora-strauss Don’t know much about the character but their aesthetic is so amazingly cool.

@serelia-evensong Active and interesting RPer. Will fill your dash up with fun to read posts of all kinds.

@susan-gampre Hoe. But she knows it. And she’s good at it. The character and RPer both are sassy and take no shit, and I love them for it.

@storykeeper-wra Spooky character. But not tired and boring spooky. The sort that’s very interesting. Like a good book. Makes sense they are the storykeeper, because their story is very appealing.

@halforc-mercenary Have always wanted to interact with their character but never much got the chance. Still adore their writings on my dash, and they often impress me with their plots and quality.

@rhysgoodwin Cute char, updates often, fantastic writer.

@priestess-nightfury Elf RP/Aesthetic at some of its very best.

@stonestridernerd They will love you and make you feel like the best person ever just be hurling likes at you and complimenting your work. They are just a gem of a person. So, so sweet.

@theshadowborn Shame I’[ve not interacted with their character much, but they are a clearly talented writer.

@durotan-ofthe-frostwolf Lot of OOC silly stuff, but genuinely a cool person and always a pleasure to see on your dash.

@ranekvilmas Just a very talented writer and all around chipper guy. One of those people who always has something interesting on their blog to read.

@penvenomstarkstar A good head on this one’s shoulders. ICly their character is extremely well written with so, so much depth. Endless things to discover here.

@ravenpriest DAMN awesome aesthetic. Really nails the gothica vibe.

@longveil Such a cool aesthetic. I’d follow for that alone, and there is so much more there too.

@kyuusei-shadowleaf Another blog worth the follow for aesthetic alone. So cool to see across your dash.

@k-sunrael Followed for a long time. Their blog can sometimes be a bit NSFW but the content is quality.

@monster-of-master In the vibe of ‘dark’ aesthetic without being overtly in your face. The sort of subtle horror we all secretly crave. Very much enjoy their content.

@summysparklesprocket Such an amazing, kind, and funny person. And the character is next level because they are a Gnome taken seriously. Love them.

@quai-mason @andrew-mason Extremely talented writer and one of the few who posts so, so frequently. You’ll eagerly await their next post, trust me.

@unabashedrebel ICly they are a very cool character with awesome stories. OOCly they are a smart and conscience driven individual with a good moral sense. More than once they’ve shown they are not afraid to stick up for what matters. Lot of respect.

@safrona-shadowsun Killer character aesthetic, great reblogs, and does not ruin their theme with bullshit. Fantastic follow, this one.

@helryder666 All over the place with their posts, but its never unwelcome or uninteresting. They always seem to know what you wanna see, even if you don’t know.

@thewardancer Some of the best troll aesthetic I’ve seen, honestly.

@brandstonethings Just a big bear of a man. I love him, and you will too. He’s so well written he feels alive.

@archmage--khadgar I hesitate with people who RP lore characters. This one managed to be one of my few exceptions. They actually do a really great job with it.

@forhonorandglory Only followed for a short time, but still worth it in my books. Sharp wit, great character.

@covexalexanderkingsley Don’t know if they still RP as much these days but they remain a very fantastic and creative individual.

@eilitheduskbringer Very talented writers. One of the best I’ve seen. And they host to an amazing community I’ve come to respect.

@thepalewolfhowls Great artist too, but I mainly know them for their awesome character and fantastic sense of story and plot.

Guild/Other

@the-royal-courier A fantastic source of events and stories. While they don’t host many writings of their own, they still reblog community events. Absolutely advise a follow.

@stormwinduniv Been around about as long as my old arse. Very talented group of writers who put on so many community events and intellectually focused debates.

@the-silver-circle A group of extremely talented writers focused entirely on Kaldorei writing and storylines. Very high levels of respect from me.

@moment-in-time-wra Less a ‘guild’ but still a great service for in game photography. They make your events look fantastic! Run by Risri.

@atc-wra A very talented small group of RPers who know how to make stories pop. You just want to be a part of them, or read what happens next.

@deadsunharbor Very fantastic crew who are open to all manner of amazing RP opportunities. They do criminal/dark correctly and with finesse rarely seen.

@oathswornvanguard Lawful good guild done proper. They have stood the test of time not only with their quality but their kindness and openness to the community.

@wraconnect A great source of WoW events and blogs to follow.

@wowrpevents Another fantastic source of WoW events and blogs to follow.

@wracentral ANOTHER fantastic source of WoW events and blogs to follow.

Artists

@whimsicallyart @elaianna Talented, intelligent, observant, and all around a gem of a person. Worth knowing.

@littleliongod One of the best I have worked with. Talented, priced very fair, extremely punctual, very communicative. Can not possibly recommend enough for any commission work.

@artofaokori Worked with them before and would absolutely do so again. Their style is very unique and you’ll recognize it anywhere in a good way.

@vintrove @vinsketchbook Extremely talented. Some next level stuff. Commissioned them twice and both times they blew me away with the end product.

@catbatart @cat-bat Such a shame I’ve only worked with them one time. One day, I must commission them again because they are the sort of artist who will go that extra mile and bring your piece to life.

@ferachidoesart They are Ferachi. They do art. Really well. Great style, super unique, and their commission prices are way more reasonable than you’d expect for their amazing quality.

@auggusst-art @auggusst Really such a kind and talented soul. One of those hidden gems of tumblr. They deserve more notice, so go give it to them!

@blackdogmelancholyooc @blackdogmelancholy Nerd. But actually a really cool dude with a ton of raw talent. They are great to work with.

@anzka Have not posted here in a while, but you should take a peek. Why? Because no one. Draws. Gnomes. Better.

@planktonheretic You like thick ladies? What about buff ones? Then my friend, have I got a treat for you. That treat is Plank. Check out their Twitter too for even more fantastic work!

@kellydidathing Amazing artist. Very busy person, but worth the investment because the art is top notch.

@izzarra Talk about raw talent refined into a craft. This artist is going places, seriously. Amazing stuff.

@thestringking @jane-fitzgerald @ahn-qiraj Extremely talented young lad who I know will go on to kill it in the art industry. Already one of the best out there, no lie.

Self Plug

My blog should be easy to find, right at the top of this post here, or the bottom. If you want to see all my character blogs, please check out RIGHT HERE (under repairs atm so a few of the characters might not work or link improperly) for a complete list. Each character page here contains a link just under their summary that will take you to their individual blog. Check out the ones that interest you!

Also want to plug my own guild, @coldwall-collective, for still being some of the best writers and content creators I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Go check us out!

Not Here?

Don’t be sad! Many reasons could be the cause. Maybe we’ve just not interacted enough. Or maybe I’ve not seen many of your posts. Maybe I overlooked you because I’m silly. Any of these could be a reason. If you don’t see yourself here, it does not mean I don’t appreciate you. I do. You’re a part of what makes this community great and I have all the respect for you.

#ooc

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storyknitter · 5 years

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Memories

26. A memory they want to share and 18. A memory they’d love to change

Thanks for the prompts, @a-muirehen @honekitteh and @aeternalegacy ! They fit together well and finally got me to write out this scene, so yay!

---

21 ATC, Commander’s quarters

“Hey, you got a minute?” Theron kept his voice even despite the nerves and adrenaline coursing through him and resisted the urge to get up from the sofa to pace. Why was he so nervous? He was simply returning something that she’d lost ages ago.

Sanna's smile made his heart stutter to a brief stop before thudding loudly in his ears. “For you? Always. What is it?” she asked softly as she sat beside him.

“Well, I have something for you.” At her curious look, he stammered, “I didn't buy it or anything, it's already yours. What I mean is, umm...” Theron swore under his breath — how the hells had he messed this up already? — and pulled out what had been in his possession for years: a double-bladed saberstaff, its tarnished silver casing etched with angular designs comprised of triangles and diamonds, so similar to the tattoos etched on her skin. He knew that if he flicked it on, the blades would glow a bright, silvery blue, and he held it out to Vassanna with a smile.

Her violet eyes widened in recognition and, in a brief instant, too many emotions flickered across her features for him to read before her Jedi mask slammed into place. Was he imagining things or had she recoiled from the saber?

“Where did you get that?” Her voice was hard and flat. “How did you get that?”

Theron’s mind drifted back, through a handful of lonely years, and he set the saber on the cushion between them. “It was...” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It was years ago, after the Republic’s treaty with the Eternal Empire, but before I found out that you weren’t really— that you were still alive.”

He paused, concerned over the wariness in her eyes, but continued. “SIS tasked me and another agent to retrieve data and any holocrons we could find from the old Jedi Temple on Coruscant and —”

“How dare you!” Vassanna hissed, her features twisting with anger and something else he couldn’t place. “That place is a burial ground and you just went traipsing through it like it was some— They all died there and you just dug through it like it was nothing?”

(Yeah. This was going way worse than he’d thought.)

Theron could barely breathe, frozen in shock over her outburst, blinking as he tried to figure out how to soothe her ire — and how exactly he’d provoked it. “No. Not at all,” he said, hands extended in a peaceful, calming gesture. “We were careful not to disturb anything as best we could.”

(He probably shouldn't mention how they got in.)

“Look, I know what happened there, Sanna,” he said, unable to stop the irritation that slipped into his words.

Her lips pursed and jaw clenched as though she was forcing herself to keep quiet and let him explain, so he did. He told her how he and his partner had crept through the eerily quiet rubble, stepping softly, respectfully. How they’d found just about everything they’d gone in for and how they were nearly crushed on the way out — part of what was originally a wall had lurched sideways, careening toward the door they were trying to use. The huge piece of duracrete had stopped barely half a meter from him and the saber slid out from underneath, skittering to a halt at Theron’s feet.

“Linné — my partner — is a Kiffar.” He wondered idly if his former colleague was still alive all these years later; he hoped so. “She's got psychometry and when she picked up the saber, her eyes went all glassy, like she was watching something far away. After a moment or two, she blinked and handed it to me. ‘This belongs to the Jedi Battlemaster,’ she said. ‘Be sure to return it when you see her next.’” Theron huffed and shook his head. “I tried to argue with her that the current Battlemaster was a male Togruta, but then she described... you. Perfectly. And I've had it ever since.”

Sanna met his gaze briefly before looking away with a sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” she whispered, and he brushed off her apology — it wasn’t necessary. “How old were you,” she said, a thoughtful look on her face, “during the Sacking?”

“Thirteen.”

She nodded, then gave a small gasp, looking at him in horror. “Where were you? Were you on Coruscant when—”

“No, no,” Theron answered, reassuring her. “I was still on Haashimut, though Master Zho and I had just... parted ways.” His heart squeezed in his chest as her eyes narrowed briefly, knowing the way she felt about how they’d parted ways. But then she sighed and melted in relief, an “oh, good” falling from her lips. The puzzle pieces started falling into place and his stomach sank.

“Sanna, where were you?” he asked. His Jedi wouldn’t look at him and a chill ran down his spine.

“The Archives.” Her soft answer, barely a whisper, punched him in the gut and he let out an impressive string of curses. Gods above and below, she had been there.

“How old were you? You couldn’t have been more than ten.”

“Nine.” Vassanna closed her eyes, visions of red blades and fire dancing in her memory. He deserved the full story, to know why that saberstaff was in the ruins of the Temple, so she took a deep breath and began her story.

“It was my fault.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat, starting again. “It was my fault — we were supposed to have been en route to the Outer Rim for a treaty negotiation.” Oh, stars, she couldn't bear to look at Theron, to see the damnation or pity in his eyes — she didn’t know which would be worse. “I was at the Archives with my first Master, my Uncle Brennick, doing research on local histories and treatises. I helped at first, but he knew I was bored, so he shooed me away, told me to find something else to research.”

She spoke in detail about the book she'd found — a real paper book — on crystals, formations, and their use in lightsabers and other ceremonial items. The problem she'd run into was this: the book couldn't leave the Archives, but she hadn't finished it before it was time for the pair to leave.

“I begged him to let me come back first thing in the morning so I could finish reading.” Vassanna couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her lips. “He was never one to dissuade me from learning, so he rearranged our schedule to give me extra time.” She took a huge shuddering breath and continued, irritation spiking at how small her voice sounded. “I only had a handful of pages left when Malgus walked through the door.”

She described the hush that fell over the whole Temple, then the crash that shook the building to its core. Master Brennick had rushed into the Archives and instructed her to leave — there was a back exit into the Works and she should take any younglings she came across with her.

He’d given her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head and asked her to give his love to the family. Now go, Vassanna, he’d said. Go and do not look back. Then, he pressed his comm into her hands and shoved her toward the exit, waiting to turn until she was on the steps.

“That was the last time I ever saw him.”

Her finger absently rubbed the scarred skin on the bridge of her nose. “There was a Mandalorian in the hallway, and she stood between me and the exit. The room I’d just passed was used for training, so I went back and grabbed a vibrosword. She laughed and said that while she admired my fighting spirit, she didn’t have time to swat at flies. Instead, she shot... something at the marble pillar next to me and flew off. The stone exploded everywhere — I’m lucky none of it caught my eyes.”

Stars, she hadn’t talked about this in years. Sanna sat silently, torn over whether she wanted Theron to say something or not. The silence between them grew, gaping and empty, until she couldn’t take it.

“That’s not really my saber,” she whispered. “Though I suppose I’ve inherited it now. I don’t want to touch it; I’m afraid I’ll see... I already felt it and —”

“Sweetheart,” he murmured as he wrapped strong arms around her, crushing her to his chest and stroking her hair. “Oh, babe. I’m so sorry.”

Hard as she tried, Vassanna couldn’t keep the tears burning at the corner of her eyes from falling. With Theron’s soft encouragement, she slipped her arms under his jacket and let him hold her while she mourned.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #Jedi Knight/Theron Shan #Theron Shan #oc: Vassanna #Vassanna/Theron #knitter answers #thanks so much for the prompts!#I've been wanting to write this fic for literally years at this point #but Sanna wouldn't let me #knitter writes #angst #delicious delicious angst!#a-muirehen #honekitteh #aeternalegacy #also #this is the first thing I've written in damn near a month #wooo!

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