RAGE AGAINST.

𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚛.

[ragedagainst]

"jyn, i think, never knew the effect she had on others—never realized the intensity of her own humanity or the presence she brought to a room. she was, as expected, troubled and quarrelsome; she was also impossible to ignore or forget."

RAGE AGAINST. a private and selective rp blog for JYN ERSO from star wars: rogue one. headcanon-based and canon divergent with the main verse set during the original trilogy.

001. carrd 002. ask memes 003. template credit

[croftborn]

❝ please tell me this a joke. ❞

lara eyes the exterior of glaring neon and turns her head away when the entrance splits and swaths the air filled with smoke and spirit and bone rattling base. she shifts her glare from the bouncer to @ragedagainst and sets its full load onto the young asset.

❝ your contact is in there ? ❞

random starter for jyn erso.

[ragedagainst]

" what, can't handle a club ? " jyn retorts, hooking her thumbs in her belt loops as she raises an eye. while she's not one to frequent them for entertainment, loud, crowded places are often the best places for meetings with seedy clients or subtle drop-offs. her voice is wry, sarcastic when she adds, " tombs are fine, though. tight, dark spaces with dead people. lots of fun. "

[ragedagainst]

real life in kicking me in the HOLE (pick one) so i haven't been feeling any motivation to be on here but hopefully soon i'll be able to kick life in the hole!!

[ragedagainst]

LOOK WHAT CAME IN THE MAIL TODAY!!!!!!!!!

[ragedagainst]

friendly reminder that, regardless of verse, jyn is always going to have the same scars!! the way she acquires them will be similar to canon, but verse dependent (scar from a blaster turning into a scar from a modern gun, for example). you can find a detailed guide to her scars here!

[keikomivra]

ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY (2016) Dir. Gareth Edwards

[ragedagainst]

from here !

lowering her blaster is easier said than done, and jyn has no intention of following a stranger's orders in what seems to be a facsimile of the afterlife. her hand remains steady despite having literally just stepped off a battlefield ; her ears still ring with the thunderous roar of the death star's blast coming toward her on the beach, so close that her skin still prickles with the ghost of the heat even now that she's . . . dead ? taken somewhere ?

regardless, she's not going into her death ( be it her first or second ) without putting up a fight.

" who the hell are you ? " she barks out, making no move to back down. a trickle of blood rolls down her face from a wound at her hairline. she doesn't move to wipe it away. " tell me where i am, now, or i'll shoot. "

@naboocrowned

[stormbrained]

[ 25 ]  pushing them onto a piece of furniture before straddling them. 

✦      IT HAPPENED LIKE CLOCKWORK, EVERY TIME.  he couldn't blame it on vampiric magic — theodore did not lead the kind of life necessary to make enthralment easy, he was not the sort of prey that could be made chaste and obedient by will of another's mind, or by any kind of venom the undead could spit in his mouth — and certainly he did not think jyn would be the kind of creature to use such a paltry trick on him.  no, she was too efficient.  her instinct for the hunt and her precision with the kill made her too conspicuous a monster to waste time lulling her victims in with lasciviousness.

plainly put, if @ragedagainst wanted him dead, if she just wanted something to feed on, he'd be an insensate heap of meat and sinew at her feet already.  by some utter miracle he had remained on his feet.  

no, jyn's allure was of a more ribald nature:  she was two hands fisted tightly in teddy's hair, a gasp against his cheek, his throat, his collarbones, that promised an enthusiastic bruising sometime in the near future.  his fingers played teasingly against her jaw, willing her to open her mouth, all so he could press his tongue against her fangs.  she didn't need to breathe, and had rapidly convinced him he didn't want to be breathing either, not if it meant pulling back.  as if to taunt his human need for oxygen, or maybe in response to his thudding heartbeat — he couldn't tell, was it kindness or mockery that made her pull away? — he felt jyn's feet guiding a path into some wooden protrusion.  furniture?  a table, a dusty couch?  who knew.  the back of his knees hit the edge and then they were toppling;  it pulled a surprised gasp out of teddy.  finally, air in his lungs! and jyn piled onto his lap, across his hips. one was more exciting to his shot nerves than the other.

he said, panting hard,  “why the rush?”  despite the growing strain in his body, despite the absolute hungry need painted all over his flushed face,  “sunrise isn't for another five hours.  where do you need to be that's more fun than here?”

[ragedagainst]

SOMEHOW, THEY ALWAYS END UP LIKE THIS : clashing teeth and tongues, nails scrabbling against clothing and skin, biting and scratching with an almost frenzied enthusiasm that's at odds with their normal antagonistic behavior. when she'd first accepted his bounty, she'd never expected that it would turn into this. these days, whenever she gets sick of playing with her prey ( though teddy is hardly the easy target she'd been expecting ) and finally makes a move to bring him in for good, it somehow ends up with her in his lap -- or him in hers. the worst part is that this isn't some kind of ploy to get his guard down ; even alive, she'd never been good at seduction, and it comes as a surprise to her that her undead nature isn't an instant turn-off. despite that, teddy's gives as good as he gets -- and based on the current scenario, he's just as interested in this as she is.

( the longer she does this, the more she forms a relationship with him, the harder it will be to turn in his bounty. she knows this. there's a voice in the back of her head that screams at her every time one of her . . . visits turns into a tryst instead of a kidnapping. all the same one day, likely soon, she will bring him in. if there's a chance of a cure. . .fuck, she has to take it, even at the expense of teddy's life.

the thought makes her stomach go sour, especially when she's faced with that easy, crooked grin of his. it won't be easy. she wishes it were someone else. her heart clenches in her chest, like a fist between her ribs holding it in a vice grip. but she's reminded that people like her -- beings like her -- can't -- )

instead of going down that path, jyn takes the easy way out and shoves those thoughts into the bunker in her mind. she nips at his neck, teeth scraping the skin with the promise of a bite, fangs only just extending -- just a tease of the danger she knows gets him off. emboldened by the feeling of his heartbeat under her fingertips ( he's so alive in all the ways she isn't ), she pushes him back until his calves hit a nearby sofa and she tumbles down with him. with an inhumane grace, she straddles him, fully intent on taking the upper hand and tearing his clothes off. . .until he opens his mouth. she groans into his neck, leaning back to meet his gaze with a frenzied, debauched look of her own.

" i'm sorry, " she says slowly, drawing the moment out, " is there something else you'd rather be doing ? " she leans back, making a move to get off his lap, but the mischievous glint in her eyes is at odds with her actions. a curl of a smile, a hint of her fangs poking out against her lip. a reminder of what she is. " am i boring you, theodore ? we could always do something else. like . . . taxes. "

[ragedagainst]

@onhope : “I’m not playing games here.”

joining the rebel alliance comes with a learning curve. she'd known, of course, that the partisans had operated on a different level ; her few interactions with the alliance while still underneath saw's wing had painted a drastically different image of two organizations with the exact same goal. yet despite that, she can't quite believe all the red tape that comes alongside punching a fellow recruit in the face.

" that's funny, " jyn says evenly, chin jutting upward and arms crossed over her chest. it's a stance that keeps her balanced, grounded -- as if anticipating absorbing the shock of a blow. " because i had you pegged as a man who liked playing games. "

she huffs out an irritated breath, shaking her head ever so slightly ; her hair moves with the motion, strands brushing against the only just healed burns on one side of her face. her knuckles smart with the familiar pain of new bruises. sneered words echo in the back of her head -- imperial's daughter. " i don't know what you want me to say, captain. it was one fight. i didn't karking kill anyone. "

[proditeur]

"oh? been keeping tabs, have you?" regulus isn't sure he'd be surprised if she was. by the force's tits, meeting jyn erso has been an exercise in facing his own insecurities to a degree hitherto believed impossible. if he is stubborn then she is stubborner, if he is withdrawn then she is withdrawner. and if regulus fears being indebted to anyone then jyn would sooner blast her own temple than owe another man a favour.

it would be comical if his emotions weren't so heightened, and if he wasn't determined to redirect those emotions to the scuff on his new trousers.

regulus cups his palms around his mouth and channels, quite loudly, an apt retort, " THAT ISN'T HOW IT WORKS. " and he's sure she knows this. but it's not worth arguing with one so determined to fight everyone and everything she sees. "fuck you! fuck you, and fuck your ruddy face! you look like a rancor's arsehole."

[ragedagainst]

the sudden shift to shouted force channelling doesn't faze her in the slightest. jyn, whose body has been wired to be used to surprises like this, only matches his energy. she sits up and aims a well placed kick at his side, not bothering to hold back despite any possible injuries his fall may have caused him.

" I DON'T CARE ! " she retorts, just as loudly. " and you would know what a rancor's arsehole looks like ! " if there are any threats left in the area around them, they're now very much aware of their presence. " if this is the type of thanks i get next time, you can pull your own damn self up ! "

if there is a next time, she thinks sourly, finally pushing herself up from the ground and wiping her dirty gloves on the front of her pants once she's standing. she narrows her eyes at regulus, not once considering offering him a hand, and makes a rude gesture that, on many planets, is not one you'd make in polite society. before stalking off in the direction of their ship, she adds, pointedly and over her shoulder, " maybe you can ask the force to help you. "

[dumbdoegirl]

huh. i am both wound and blade. neat.

[feral-ballad]

Carrie Fountain, from Burn Lake; “Burn Lake 5”

[deadmare]

⍟ ↠ @ragedagainst asked : ❛ you’re playing a dangerous game. ❜

cooper howard never was a bettin’ man.  lost the taste for it somewhere alongside his dignity, that night everything went shitshow sideways at the lucky thirty - eight.  and the ghoul,  well  —  he’s been fucked over hard and dry so many times by the deliberate cruelty of the world that he ain’t ever felt the wanting to give lady luck a try.  and yet,  there’s something about gerrera's kid,  five - three in wasteland leather and carrying her daddy’s ferocity like she’d been born to it,  like it ain’t water between them,  that makes him want to put it all on the metaphorical red.  push her ‘till that composure snaps,  sharp as some poor wasted old fuck’s sinew ‘neath his teeth,  and she actually draws the pistol quartered against her right thigh that her shooting hand keeps itching for.  never mind that her bounty stipulates to bring her in warm,  never mind that their stand - off had already drawn a palpable unease unto the patrons of the bar.  if this were a shitty howard flick,  here’s where the script would read  :  enter the county varmint under high noon sun.  to either side of him,  the cowering townsfolk  ;  opposite,  the brave and noble sheriff.  go on,  girly.  make his day. 

“ y’reckon?  ”  he drawls at last through his amusement,  ragged corner of his mouth hitching to a shape that might’ve once resembled a smile on a younger man  —  a softer man.  tongue works the toothpick he’d been wetting between his molars to make space for the changed arrangement of his features,  and he bites on it until he feels something splinter,  sucking back saliva and wood particulate as he turns the young woman over a second time.  after a moment,  he takes the booth opposite her without invitation,  tucking one side of his duster as he sits around the sawed - off holstered to his own leg and speaking nothing for the threat of it.  when he leans in,  he crowds.  arms folded over the tabletop and leaning in on his elbows until he’s sure the kid can smell the stale cigarette smoke still clinging to his breath.  but anything’s gotta be better than the rads and rot.  “ ‘cause if we’re gonn’ do this the hard way  –  and little girl,  it really seems to me like you wanna do this the hard way  –  then i’d say  . . .  the game ain’t even started yet.  ”

[ragedagainst]

it's about damn time that someone's been sent after her. again. the first few attempts hadn't gone so well for the bounty hunters who'd had the misfortune of giving it their best shot. she's good at surviving. learned that the hard way when she'd been a kid and her entire vault had been slaughtered in front of her eyes and galen dragged away while she watched. when saw came to get her, three days later, she'd already had a taste of it, what it takes to survive in a world full of murderers and killers. hell, she's one of them. yet when the ghoul enters the joint and zeroes in on her from across the room, her first reaction is oh shit. whoever's put this bounty on her -- an enemy of saw's, a former business partner gone sour, orson fucking krennic -- has clearly upped their game when none of the previous hunters had come back successful. though never having laid eyes on him herself, just like everyone else in the wasteland, jyn's heard the rumors about the ghoul. as good as she is, she's a scrapper, a brawler -- he's a killer. before she even takes a step forward, fists raised, there'll be a bullet between her eyes and a shit ton of caps in his pockets. her body acts before her mind does, gun in her hands long before her brain catches up. there's only one reason why he's narrowed in on her, only one reason why he's decided to face her down, and only one fucking reason why he's slid into the seat across the table from her : the day's finally come where jyn thinks there's a decent chance someone gets the best of her.

well, if she's going to go down, might as well do it fighting and do some fucking damage on her way out.

there's no point in mincing words or playing coy. they both know exactly why he's here and there's no way she can talk her way out of it. she's never had a way with words, anyway. still, she plays it up anyway, mouth moving with empty words as her brain tries to think of a plan. " when he leans in, crowding her in a show of dominance, she stands her ground and doesn't move back. " not a fuckin' little girl, old man, " she retorts, close enough to spit. ( though, now that she thinks about it, everyone must seem like a baby to him. with how much he looks like brahmin jerky, he must have been there when they dropped the bombs. ) she wonders how many people take the easy way out. . .or if there's even an easy way -- a part of her suspects it's just standing still when he shoots you instead of running away. " well, " she says evenly, finally leaning back and smacking her free hand against the table. " might as well get started, yeah ? " quick as a whip, and just as the words leave her mouth, she fires a round aimed at his chest and darts out of the booth. let the game begin.

[wornkindness]

     Amelia knew her own strengths and the areas where she was lacking. Even if sometimes her own stubbornness got the better of her. Since girlhood, she had never been fond of being whisked away to safety while everyone else put themselves into harm's way. To put themselves into danger for her, to protect her. However, years had taught her the importance of staying put, even if she hadn’t always listened, even if still her first instinct was to argue. Her safety had become even more of a priority since she had taken over the mantle of queen. 

     Jyn seemed to hold equal disdain for being locked behind doors as Amelia watched her pace in front of the door. While she didn’t necessarily think the quiet on the other side meant there was danger she wasn’t going to argue with Jyn about it, given that this was not exactly the queen’s area of expertise.  

     There was a moment of hesitation in her answer to the question. While she was not defenseless, she was no warrior, Jyn leaving meant she would be left to her own skills and the whims of fate should anyone deemed less than friendly come this way. But finally she gave a nod. “I won’t follow, you have my word.” A pause. “Is it worth the effort to try and convince you not to leave?”

[ragedagainst]

jyn's not used to being left behind while the action happens. while protecting the queen is arguably the most important job, she'd learned a long time ago that hanging back and guarding something ( the cargo, the ship, a captive ) is not where she wants to be when the fighting breaks out. she's never been good at waiting -- patience is not a virtue that she possesses. how commanders and generals can sit around and plan a battle without actual being a part of it is beyond her ; to put it quite plainly, this sort of work is boring.

her hands clench around her truncheons that she's holding loosely at her sides as she paces liked a caged animal, straining her ears to listen for anything outside of the confines of the queen's bedroom. her muscles ripple underneath her skin, posture tense as an arrow nearly ready to be fired. any moment, she anticipates someone trying to knock down the door and bursting into the room ; hell, she'd rather that happened just to get it over with instead of waiting around and seeing if it'll happen.

" you can try, " jyn replies off-handedly, her focus not on the other woman but on the entrance. unless this convincing comes with a significant ( and unreasonably large ) payout and the promise of her freedom with no strings attached, it's going to be pretty damn hard to sway her mind. " i'll give you two minutes, then i'm going out there. "

[ragedagainst]

guys i think i'm still going to be writing jyn when im 80

[prince-frederic]

in light of events in belfast rn, im gonna post this fundraiser

Support people and groups impacted by racist attacks

We are raising funds to support people who have been attacked, displaced and traumatised in racist attacks in Belfast.

if youre able to donate, itd mean a lot to everyone whos been affected by this

[guttcrson]

@ragedagainst sent: is it worth dying for?

how to answer that question? he doesn't speak for a moment, wants to know if there's a way he can get away without answering at all. but jyn is steadfast, stubborn to a fault, and he's not sure he'd be able to dodge this question. might have an easier time dodging a damn bullet then her questions sometimes. what was worth dying for? he'd die for his sister, he'd die for his man, he'd die for just about anyone that asked him nicely sometimes, but tim knows he ain't supposed to say that and it's not what she's asking anyway.

"guess that depends on you." it's a non-answer, he knows, but it's what he's got and even more it's the truth. "people being safer, shit like that, it's worth it for a lot of people. might be a better world if it was worth it to everyone."

[ragedagainst]

jyn clicks her tongue, leaning back in her chair and staring back at tim from across the interrogation table. it's not an easy decision to make, going on a mission that will almost certainly lead to serious injury and/or death, and while she hadn't expected any a real answer from him, there's a part of her that's almost disappointed with what she gets instead. though her mind is already made up -- of course she'll fucking help, she's not a monster, just . . . a bit of an asshole -- there's a part of her that wants to see where this conversation might lead.

" and i'm supposed to risk my life for that ? " she replies incredulously. " for something that might make the world better ? " she drums her nails against the table, then shakes her head, as if dismissing the idea. let him sweat for a bit. " why don't you tell me what you'd do in my shoes, yeah ? "