Welcome to the pinned post for my SWTOR blog, where I post about my many characters. You can call me Acie, and my pronouns are They/Them. I Like/Follow from @birdystrider
You can find my AO3 here and my other writing here.
Malarkey Legacy - Nav + Pics
Lady (Maladise) - Sith Inquisitor
Hex (Hexik) - Sith Warrior
Mal (Mala'kir) - Smuggler
Sesyl - Jedi Consular
Nines - Imperial Agent
The Zhame Siblings - Nav + Pics
Kazi (Kazimar) - Bounty Hunter
Viveca - Jedi Knight Acts 2 & 3
Signy - Jedi Knight Act 1
Emperor Arcann's Wrath
My current pride and joy project is Emperor Arcann's Wrath. The premise is that Wrath is summoned to Zakuul after Ilum and many years later serves Emperor Arcann.
You can find the first entry here (AO3 account required to read).
so i've been working on a (shorter) nines playlist and have realized. there is a very clear personality shift after meeting theron. to the point it affects all of the songs i would choose for him.
The ragged gasp that betrays his true feelings on the matter is what sucks all of the tension out of the room, what allows Malavai to breathe himself, and for him to realize just how far this has spiraled.
Perhaps the past three weeks should have clued him in. How rigid he held himself, as if always on the edge of snapping if pushed too hard. Decisive, in a way that felt more like quick judgements than him truly knowing what he meant to do. And actions like these, where he’s cornered Malavai just for asking, prodding on whether he was truly as fine as he said he was.
It’s truly unsettling just how different the man in front of him is, and how much none of this is truly about him. He’d thought it had been. The anger that had crossed his face so suddenly upon the question, the briefest of mentions on how the search was going, had nearly gotten his skull split open on the wall. He knew where he stood with Zanya and figured this was expected. That this was a consequence of assuming too much.
Thought it’d been the result of six long years of some pent up and twisted revenge for his previous betrayal that he was finally taking out on him after his return from Iokath. A penance that he still had to pay, and yet, all it takes is one heavy intake of air for it all to click.
“You don’t want this.”
It’s a simply, four words. Five, if he wanted to be asinine about the contraction. But enough is said in a whisper to see the edges of his expression crack under the weight of the previous few weeks. The simmering gold of his irises shines slightly in the low light of the Fury’s overheads, a heavy contrast to the way his brows draw together in fury at the very notion.
“You. Do not know what I need.”
“Nor do you, I fear.”
His nails aren’t as sharp as they once were, he realizes when the grip on his jaw falters. They’re chipped in fact, he noticed when they first departed for the mission earlier today. Among the other oddities of his appearance, of course, its telling, metaphorically, to the way he’s shaved down his once-near-claws into something less predator-like. As if he wasn’t expecting to need them any time soon.
He’s softer around the edges. Or he had been, when he’d encountered him on Iokath. Malavai can still perceive these edges, except for where he’s intentionally put the plate armor back on. Where he’s hiding the most vulnerable parts of himself, notably over his chest and torso.
His nails still hurt, blunt or otherwise, when they dig into his skin, but the pain is dull in comparison to the anguish that roils under the facade he wears.
“I will not have the likes of you,” The forced emphasis makes him flinch, but his gaze does not waver. Unfortunately, it tells him everything. Tells him, that even with the conviction Zanya has right now, it isn’t fully honest. It isn’t what he really means, “Tell me what I want or what I should have. I am fine.”
This is usually where there would be an addendum. That he was Sith. That he was the Wrath. That he was the Empire personified. Or at least, that was how he remembered it. He can almost hear in the back of his mind how the cadence of his voice would flow like lava in righteous fury over a perceived slight at his person.
It doesn’t come.
He still feels slighted, clearly, but he doesn’t reach for his titles right away anymore. And Malavai is still off-balance in the new world order that revolves around a changed Zanya Ariidek. He moves to take his wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to move his hand and release his face. He struggles for a moment, but eventually Zanya tears his hand out of his grasp. Rough, uncoordinated, unsteady.
“You are hurt,” He continues, the way one would notice a gash torn across skin or a bruise under a chestplate. The words feel like sandpaper in his mouth — to be attempting to talk Zanya of all people down is near disturbing, he’s never been in a position where he’s needed to do so and feels so wildly unsure of himself when he’s this volatile already. Any wrong move and this goes south faster than he can rectify it, “And you are lashing out.”
“I am not lashing out. I am well within control of my mental faculties, Quinn,” There’s a tightness in his throat that he can hear, when it sounds like he’s choking out sentences rather than speaking them fully. It’s distressing, when he notices that Zanya’s hand is shaking at his side. He can’t take another step closer, and the taut line of his lips dares to twitch, “I do not have regrets. You know this.”
“I know as well as you do that you are not yourself, and that perhaps, you should allow yourself the space to grieve rather than working until dawn,” Malavai breathes for what feels like the first time in hours when Zanya steps away from him, watching as he tenses under his armor set. The words feel wrong, and though he isn’t sensitive to the force, he can only imagine the storm that lingers just beyond his perception, “I would believe that anyone in your place, in your shoes, would understand that.”
“I am not going to grieve a man who has dug his own grave. He has made his decision,” Zanya won’t turn to face him when he rests his hands on the nearby table, and he’s left to only assume from his tone that while he doesn’t like what Malavai has said, that he may be right. It’s not hard to see from the way his shoulders creep upwards that the stress is drawing a deep crack down his psyche that’s threatening to snap completely, “He has made his decision and I will live with that because I am not weak enough to allow it to upend my life. I cannot afford such a thing.”
“I would say that no one on your inner council would blame you if you were to take some time away. To process it all. A betrayal like this, it’s —“ He finds it ironic that he’s the one saying this, squeezing his eyes shut while he settles the thought in his mind. Was there someone who said the same thing to him all those years ago, when he had done the same to Zanya? It curls like a barbed briar branch around his throat, “It isn’t your fault.”
“It is and I am tired of the half dozen people on base telling me it is not!” The common room furniture shudders under the weight of the outburst, not enough to break but enough to rattle just about everything nearby. A breath caught in his throat that sounds more like an uncharacteristic sob, “I failed. As the commander, I had a responsibility to the galaxy to bring peace. Stability. A future better than the one I had almost lead to ruin. That was my responsibility and through a thousand tiny cuts, my own blind spots and the fact I was unaware of such disapproval brewing beneath my own nose, I failed the galaxy. I failed the people closest to me and now the Alliance is paying for it.”
Another breath, “I may lose everything I built because of my own self-assurity. I will not be told there is nothing I could do when I should have done so much differently.”
It’s not his place. Really this is a conversation that Zanya should be having with Vette. Or Lana. Or perhaps even his siblings. Someone else who would understand that perspective. Someone closer to him that would be able to offer a perspective that would absolve him of the undue stress that he didn’t seem to deserve. Anyone else other than Malavai, who was part of the reason they were even here. What good his perspective would do would fall on deaf ears surely.
He stills his hand. Stays where he is, a few paces behind him. He could absolutely leave, as the others already have. Really, he should. But in some deep part of him that’s slowly been unearthed in past few weeks, he remembers that he hates to see Zanya crumple. As if the entire weight of the galaxy sat heavy on his shoulders, and he refused to let anyone else take it on. Of course he was still the same man he met on Balmorra and supported his campaign through to the end as the Wrath. The world had just changed, and Zanya had been forced to adapt.
Forced in a way that doesn’t truly feel fair to him.
“That isn’t fair.”
“It is. When I took the throne, I made a promise. That I would be better and rectify my mistakes where I made them. And I am unable to even do that, in the here and the now.”
The idea irks him, even if he doesn’t know where the annoyance comes from, “Self-flagellation rarely fits on anyone, much less you. The Alliance is what you created, not the Empire or the Republic. You cannot control what they do, nor what they don’t do.”
“Yet I—“
“You cannot blame yourself for the actions of an idealistic man unfairly scorned, regardless of whether you cared for him personally or not,” Malavai can only grit his teeth at that. Why does he feel a level of offended that is entirely undeserving for his station? He barely knew their traitor beyond a few weeks of interactions, “Agent Shan’s choices were his. You can only make your own, and deal with the consequences in the interim.”
Zanya’s grip on the table warps the edge of it when he says that, making Malavai flinch and think that he’s perhaps going to be shouted at for insubordination, maybe flung against a wall if he’d really done it this time, but all he can hear is the quiet sound of air cycling about the ship. The murmur of sentences he doesn’t catch on Zanya’s lips and the way that he sounds like he needs his respirator again. He’d used to carry an inhaler for him, but years spent apart had removed the habit from his routine.
He steps closer, to tell him as much, until he realizes he’s shaking, using the table for support with the way his weight is bowed forward. And there’s the quiet sound of water plinking onto the durasteel.
Tears.
The discomfort immediately crawls up his throat.
Malavai has never seen Zanya cry. The very thought is entirely incongruent with the person that he is. Not that he ever saw many emotions from him to begin with, but this was one that had never been on his expression when he served him before. He never would’ve allowed such a thing in his presence, the perceived weakness of the action would drive him directly up a wall. Zanya refused to be seen broken then, and considering just how tightly he’d clung to the routine of completing missions with ruthless efficiency as of lately, this was the result of desiring to still hold all those pieces to his chest.
So much had changed. And yet so much had stayed the same as well. He’s so far out of his depth that he no longer knows the man in front of him, but at the same moment, he recognizes him as still the same person he’d followed — cared for, for so long.
He rests a tentative hand on his shoulder, and though Zanya recoils at the touch, he settles a moment later. Leans every so slightly into it, if Malavai is particularly perceptive. His head is turned at an angle that Malavai cannot see his face, a curtain of hair shielding Zanya from having to look at him. He figures, even now, especially now, he is not privy to the things that he keeps closest to his heart.
“I will not let something this juvenile this destroy me.”
“I know you will not,” Malavai responds, “Each and every time you have returned stronger. This too will change you, but it will not break you. I am sure of it.”
A beat of silence passes, “I am undeserving of that confidence.”
“Perhaps. But you do deserve to know that you are not the sum of your consequences, rather your intentions. You have done all you can, and the galaxy will respond in kind,” Malavai continues, “The sooner you acknowledge that where your responsibility ends and others’ decisions begin are further than you realize, the more content you will be.”
“Quinn, that is a ridiculous notion.”
“Try as you may, I fear even you cannot pull the entire galaxy into a peaceful coexistence. It likely will not happen in our lifetime. It’s an ideal many of us cannot afford to have,” He’s more likely to believe that he’ll watch it implode upon itself, but figures this wasn’t the time to be that honest with Zanya, “I am meaning to say, allow yourself to be hurt by this. It does not demean you. And acknowledge that regardless of how many fault trees you torture yourself with, that you could not have seen this coming.”
A whisper, “I should have been able to. It is not the first time a lover has blindsided me in such a manner. I should know better.”
Malavai sucks in a breath. He can’t think of what to say for a moment at that. To think of the blaster scar that he still wears on his shoulder that belonged to the same protocol gun he used to carry, and the fact that wound still existed on his worldview as well pains him. And yet …
“His actions are not a reflection of you, or what you put into the relationship you shared,” He pauses, letting his thumb glide against his shoulder plate, “If I am not to overstep, he seemed to care a great deal for you. You knew better. And unfortunately it was taken advantage of.”
Zanya shudders, “And how easy it was to use that advantage on me.”
“If —“ He swallows thickly. Words he had never thought to say, in all of these years having thought that Zanya was gone spill out of what feels like a part of his soul, “If he felt, in anyway, the way I felt for you all of those years ago, then I can only imagine how excruciating it was to take that shot. To walk away from you. To turn his back on you. None of this absolves you of deserving to expect better from the things you put your heart into.”
Whether he believes him or not, or even if he likes that answer or not, Zanya can only make a noise of acknowledgement. His grip loosens on the table as he stands straighter, still ducking his head enough to remain almost entirely unseen. If Malavai looks just right, he can see the still watering eyeline of gold irises just beyond his auburn bangs. He certainly won’t look to him, but lingers his hand on Malavai’s forearm when he moves to remove it. He seems as if he wants to say something more, but decides against it at the last moment.
“Leave me. Be prepared to leave at 08:00 tomorrow.”
Malavai nods. Whether anything he’s said has mattered, he doesn’t know, but he takes it as a better sign that he isn’t be dismissed indefinitely, “As you wish.”
He’s halfway to the blastdoor when he hears the rough tone of Zanya’s voice come from behind him, “Thank you.”
He isn’t there when he turns over his shoulder, but the quiet footsteps padding away are enough to denote his presence. Malavai is still trying to determine the kind of man that Zanya is today, in comparison to the man he was so many years ago, but he figures this is the closest he’s going to get to understanding.
in case you guys are curious about why i am being stubborn and waiting for the first patch before continuing to play the update beyond the first 10 minutes.
*buggy romance spoilers below* (no other spools pls i am still waiting)
THIS IS VERY CLEARLY. NOT RIGHT. I WILL HAVE MY CUTE SCREENSHOTS. THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST SCENE OF THE UPDATE. I HAVE ONLY PLAYED LIKE 10 MINUTES.
i have been avoiding spoilers so i don't know if this is a universal arn romance problem or if it's just FBT1 😭 it seems to have rigged to a different bodytype (one of the male bodytypes if i had to guess)
since u can't replay cutscenes once u completed them, and it takes hundreds of hours to get to the new content if you restart, i want to see if they fix it before just accepting the L.
(through gritted teeth) i will not die if i do not play the update today. i can wait to see if they fix the scene so i can get my cute screenshots. it will be worth it. i can wait. i am capable of waiting. i am capable of waiting i do not need to just accept i will not get a cute screenshot.
yayyy a tag game ty for tagging me @blackberry-command-cap
Fun fact - okay i have one i've been wanting to share. i do art. i really really love my art and have considered it as a career. but the internet is a SCARY place to be an artist right now so i've never posted any art. every year i consider art fight and every year i chicken out. maybe this is a depressing fact....
Last song on repeat - i have been rotating these over and over and over and over.
Currently watching — High Potential Season 2 (it's fucking good)
Last movie — it was either Zootopia 2 (i like those silly little guys and the worldbuilding is so fun) or Some Like It Hot (a favorite from my childhood I wanted to rewatch with a queer lens and yeah, it's just as queer as i expected)
Currently reading — My friends bullied me into ordering the wha box set but i have not opened it yet. I'll get there. eventually.
Currently playing — still swtor.....
Sweet, Spicy, Savory — I have a limited diet so I don't eat a lot of different foods. Have been having weekly ice cream though since summer started. I guess i would say sweet 🤔
Current Obsessions: All of. My Blorbos. All of Them. Actually and all of my mutuals' blorbos too. Trying to think of an obsession that isn't blorbo related and drawing a blank.
Last Google Search — swtor bug report (i am just refreshing the known issues page with the saddest biggest puppy dog eyes rn)
Currently working on — I have been half-heartedly poking at my various Nines drabbles in my writing journal. I also made some art of him and am trying to decide how lazy I am bc it's not quite finished but how much do i care.
Not sure who has or hasn't been tagged yet 🤔 if you guys do tag games i would love to hear more about you @elliedearest @afragileflame @nemotoself but no pressure!
i'm now trying to decide if this is a glitch or if the rigging is just that bad and its intentional. i genuinely can't tell and i don't want to spoil. help. remember me.
friends and i came to the conclusion its glitched and i submitted a bug report. i might not be around as much trying to avoid spoilers until its hopefully fixed?? i will have my cute screenshots dammit >:C
S10 E4: GIVE UP WHAT YOU LOVE BEFORE IT DOES YOU IN [32:26]
With the traitor's trail leading to the world of Umbara, Lana, Theron and Zanya head there to stop a train full of precious Adegan crystals to help further the war effort for the Republic. Not everything is as it seems though, especially when they realize their mysterious bad actor is closer than anyone could've predicted -- and the three of them have everything to lose when the mission goes sideways in a shocking turn of events that leaves the fate of the Alliance in pieces.
Episode Soundtrack
i'm now trying to decide if this is a glitch or if the rigging is just that bad and its intentional. i genuinely can't tell and i don't want to spoil. help. remember me.
For anyone on Satele Shan, Star Forge, and possibly Darth Malgus servers, if you need the <Simulated Meatbag> achievement and legacy title, let me know!
(I would need to slam some expacs and queue up a mission on DM, but I keep at least one toon holding the unfinished HK mission on Satele and SF.)
my first character through the update tomorrow will be sesyl bc i NEED more arn content or i'll die. i will ATTEMPT to be restrained and i will tag all spoilers.
(●’◡’●) your Nines and Theron. I would love to hear more about them, if you feel like it, anything that sits in your brain about them
what do they mean to each other, how was the process to get to somewhere familiar, what makes them work, and/or what doesn’t (I’m throwing suggestions here, you can also talk about some other aspect)
You are an enabler and this has become SO long.
The thing about Nines is that he's just an absolute mess of mental disorders and trauma that he has learned to hide over his years of service. He is wildly intelligent and with that intelligence comes a heightened awareness of LITERALLY everything. This manifests as OCD. He cannot let anything go. Ever.
Act 2 basically scrambles his brain and worsens every single symptom he has ever had. He's paranoid, he's suicidal, he's obsessive. The only thing that keeps him alive during Act 3 is an all-consuming fixation on Hunter. Chasing Hunter is fun, it's a challenge, and it becomes his sole focus for a solid year of his life. When the chase ends he's left purposeless, adrift, empty.
Then he meets Theron. The way I like to characterize Theron is that he has to touch every burning stove to see how hot it is. He can't help but follow every bad idea he ever has just to see what happens. Cipher Nine is the worst temptation to put in front of Theron because he is so dangerous and completely capable of ruining Theron's life.
Theron is the first SIS Agent Nines has encountered since Hunter and Nines zeroes in on him immediately. He loves playing with the SIS, next to ImpInt he thinks SIS is a coughing baby. He turns on his charm and Theron flusters and it's like a predator scenting blood. At best, Theron is Nines' new rival. At worst, Theron is Nines' new favorite toy. Theron becomes Nines' favorite new fixation and this is the basis for their relationship.
There are so many elements to their relationship that I like but Nines' obsession is my favorite because Theron is completely unaware of it and it changes the trajectory of Nines' character. Nines instinctively seeks out the approval of those around him and when he's in a relationship he mirrors his partner's behavior. Theron makes Nines a better person because Nines wants Theron to like him, he wants to make decisions Theron approves of.
Some of their struggles as a couple under the cut, because I COULD give you the play-by-play but am trying to show restraint.
Once Nines is secure enough in their relationship, he stops masking so much around Theron and the eccentricities and tics start showing. Theron loves the unfiltered version of Nines that only he gets to see. He loves Nines' dry sarcasm and nervous energy and brilliant, constantly turning mind. He loves Nines' thinly veiled anger and the way he tries to make sense of everything he comes across.
Most of the hiccups in their relationship come from Nines. Nines is used to homosexuality being taboo in the Empire, used to seducing men that are ashamed to want him and see him as little more than something to be used. It's what he expects attraction between men to look like and absolutely nothing like how Theron treats him.
At first Nines mentally groups Theron with Vector. It's the closest relationship he has for context. Theron is kind and concerned like Vector, he fusses like Vector, he worries like Vector. Theron's kisses and flirting are nothing like Vector so Nines just adjusts his expectations to "like Vector but with kissing" and that's the social protocol Nines follows.
This works until they actually have sex post-KOTXX and it reframes their entire relationship for Nines. When it hits him that Theron loves and wants him without shame he just breaks. His breakdown is a shock to the both of them. Nines never expected to be loved and Theron didn't even know Nines had relationship baggage in the first place.
Once Theron understands they've never quite been on the same page (because Nines was just MASKING and following Theron's lead, the fucker) they are able to work through it. Theron is the best thing Nines has ever had. If you think Nines was obsessed with him BEFORE they were in love, it's way worse after. Every single thing he does is for Theron. Theron is the center of his galaxy.
Which is to say, the Traitor Arc goes VERY differently for Nines and Theron. I won't go into details but Nines thinks it is a delightful spy game. Considering Theron does not find the "game" fun, I'm not sure he's pleased about it but I haven't written it yet so ¯_(ツ)_/¯
