#emerie is a star though

[vikingmagic33]

Chapter 7 is up just in time for the weekend. We have a pirate race, ladies and gents! Hope you enjoy. Looks like this will be about 10 chapters all said and done so we are getting close. 

Read on AO3

@booknerd87 @beaumaismortel @trashforazriel @mmiscbutterflies @sv0430 @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @headcanonheadcase @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @foreverinelysian @buttoncup @srabergara @shadowriel @awkwardscience @propagandaprincess @hlizr50 @mystical-blaise @hellogoodbye14

[of-pens-and-swords]

my only wish for upcoming sjm books is for significant mor x emerie content

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. V

sorry for the wait, I'm trying to do a mix of longer and shorter chaps depending on how much time I have. Love yall 🩷

tags- @beebeechaos @hueanhdang @emery-aka-emmy @r-3dlips @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew

cw- blood, death

"I'll find her." Cregan promised the she-dragon, not stopping to wonder if it understood his common tongue.

He sat upon Red's saddle, looking out into the dim forest. He prayed of the old Gods that she was only lost.

🗡

Daenys had yet to find her mysterious calling. It wasn't a voice or a message, but a persistent tug in the forefront of her unconscious mind. The snow seemed to fall harder the deeper she continued into the forest. She was unsure which way she had come from, but knew it didn't matter now.

White fortresses of snow grew all around her, trapping her from going any other direction. Squinting, she could barely make out a few feet in front of her face. This must be some cruel game the gods were playing, toying with the Princess before leading her to her doom. Perhaps a frozen lake would be fitting. She wouldn't even know that she was standing in the middle of one until she was frozen in the icy depths.

Or mayhaps a cliff so monstrous that the jagged edges left nothing of her mortal body left behind. Whatever it was, Daenys just wished she would reach it already. Now that she was wide-awake, the cold was getting to her, mentally and physically. Even the well-suited fur dress was not enough to keep her alive forever. She needed fire, warmth.

And what of her most recent vision? Tame in nature, but harrowing to her poor heart nonetheless. Daenys had never seen Rhaenyra so undignified before, flying on Syrax in a dirty, worn dress and covered in soot and sand. Her hair was in a loose braid, clearly one meant for sleep and not council duties. She was searching for something that no one else could find. A dragon, perhaps? Maybe Seasmoke had become active again after his depressive state from Laenor's passing. The grey dragon had always liked Rhaenyra. The married couple often rode their dragons together to spend time away from King's Landing. Daenys was sure it would obey her still.

But that look on her face. The same one she wore after returning from her birthing room, without baby Visenya in her arms. Puffy face, red eyes, downtrodded posture unbefitting of the new Queen. It was all the same in her dream, maybe even worse. Daenys was glad that her mother was with Syrax, for the she dragon would keep her safe no matter what.

She smiled slightly at the remembrance of Syrax, the princess dragoness. Though Morningstar was not born from Syrax's clutch, the two had bonded as if they were truly kin. Daenys had even commissioned an iron star-shaped chain to be the dragonsaddle's chestpiece. Rhaenyra had given Syrax a similar heart-shaped chestpiece in her youth and was happy to see the white dragon doning a matching article.

Daenys suddenly felt a pang in her heart, clutching the star necklace hanging at her neck. Guilty ate at her for leaving her loyal dragon behind. She missed her warmth.

She missed Cregan's, too.

She longed for either's protective embrace in this desolate wood.

"Find me," she whispered to the nothingness. The air seemed to still, freezing Daenys in place. She listened for something, anything. She no longer felt the incessant tug. Her mind cleared.

A crunch of snow was her answer.

But Daenys hadn't moved an inch.

"Cregan?" She asked, louder. "Are you here?"

No answer but the one in the wind, like a solemn wolf's howl.

Another crunch. Another step. Cregan would've answered her by now, surely. He was not one for callous pranks or jests. Daenys wasn't alone anymore. Was this the destination? Her mind's call? Would it be a wise seer, or a vessel sent by the gods to deliver a message? Swallowing, she hoped that the entity was merciful.

A low growl answered her desperate wishes.

A wolf.

Not Dusk.

Shit.

Daenys stilled her breaths, bracing her legs into the snow. What does a weaponless person do in the face of a predator? She'd never been taught such survival methods. The Red Keep's wildlife consisted of garden rabbits and squirrels, and Dragonstone had naught but sea creatures and crabs at its disposal.

Her eyes caught the slow movement of the creatures paw, striking dread straight into her heart. The form was smaller than Dusk, by a lot. Direwolves had a size no natural animal compared to. But this one seemed smaller than an average wolf, too. Perhaps a wolf in its teen years, just recently leaving its pack to stake his place in the world.

It was a slim thing, thick coat not enough to hide its ribs. Poor thing. It was starving, clearly. Daenys would have the heart to help it if only she wasn't the current prey he had in mind.

It was survival of the fittest in this world, after all. A dragon and a wolf. Any person with common sense would declare the dragon the victor before the fight could even start. But what was the blood of the dragon without the dragon? Daenys began to wonder if there was anything special about the Targaryens besides their dragons. They gained no special traits. No endurance, strength, speed. Without Morningstar, was Daenys worthy of her namesake? Lightbringer, the realm lovingly called the beast. Fearsome and powerful, a shame that the dragon will never be given glory like other dragons of history.

The dragon wouldn't be winning wars, protecting Westeros, or even stationed at a House to guard. All because of the rider she was bestowed.

A wolf does not care for blood.

They stared at each other, neither blinking nor moving.

Run or fight.

Run or fight?

Her only two options, and both would lead to her death. It wasn't nearly as merciful and quick as a frozen lake or a jagged cliff would be. No, she would be torn apart kicking and screaming.

If she charged it, would it run or have the courage to meet her head on? No, it would not back down. A starving dog hunts best. A starving wolf cannot risk failure.

What would Rhaenyra do? What would Daemon do?

Rhaenyra might stand her ground, ever the Dragon Queen she was. Mighty and proud, though she wielded no sword or plated armor.

Daemon wouldn't hesitate, drawing Dark Sister from its sheathe, beheading the wolf with a triumphant laugh.

Daenys was neither her mother nor her step-father, though she wished futility to be an image of them.

Cregan? Perhaps he would tame yet another wolf, seeing as he clearly had an affinity.

What would a northerner like Cregan Stark do in the face of a wild wolf? Unarmed, unshielded. Pray? Take the death as the will of the Gods? Maybe.

Daenys Velayron was far from a northerner. Fire and blood hot through her veins, not ice or faith. The way of the dragon was to be unchained, forever standing tall above the realm.

Though, wild animals have no reason to care for heritage or blood. The meat on her bones was all it could see.

A wolf does not care for blood.

Daenys exhaled, long and slow. Run or fight. Fighting a starved wolf meant death, instantly. Running gave her a chance at finding a tree or rock to climb–anything to get her a vantage point.

The choice was clear.

She just needed to act.

To turn your back on a predator was to sign your own life away.

Daenys, ever so slow, unbuckled her fur coat from her shoulders. The grey wolf eyed it, snarling. Its yellow eyes grew brighter, like two harvest moons shining against the fallen snow.

Daenys mustered up all the courage she could manage, heart pounding, throwing the fur coat across the distance to the wolf. Immediately, it took it in its maw and ripped its head back and forth wildly. If it were a hot-blooded prey, the coat would be dead with blood spattered all over the snow.

Daenys ran, wasting no time watching the display.

She hoped to blind it temporarily, but it catching the furs was a better outcome than missing entirely.

She panted, adrenaline coursing through her to give warmth and strength to her limbs. They burned with the sudden exertion. Daenys could hear the wolf throwing the fur away, not being able to gather any sustenance from the useless garb.

It barked frustratedly at her disappearance from his sight, quickly giving chase to the girl.

Daenys could only hear her heart beat out of her chest and the sounds of the snarling chasing her, closer every second. Her eyes flew around wildly, hoping to spot a low-hanging but sturdy branch. Kind of difficult when running at full speed. Screeching at a bite nipping at her heels, she jumped to the nearest branch she could reach, not having any time left to search. Daenys managed to pull half of her body over it before the wolf's teeth were on her skirts, tugging violently.

She cried out as she hit the cold floor, winded from the wall. The wolf planted itself over her, leaving no room for escape, nipping at her face. Her arm instinctively flew to protect her throat and face, resulting in the wolf's jaw clamping right down on her forearm. She screamed in agony, flames of pain running through her arm. She kicked at its flank while it snarled deep and heavily, salivating through her arm. The blood and saliva from her arm dripped down hot streaks to her face, blinding her.

When the wolf let go of her arm, bracing to go for more vital parts of her to end her squirming, Daenys accepted her fate. The kicks had done nothing. It hadn't moved an inch nor showed signs of pain. At least her death wouldn't be completely useless. The wolf would be fed, for perhaps a few weeks until it could find another easy prey.

Above her, the yellow eyes were lit with hungry and drive.

Daenys closed her eyes tight, hoping for the end to be swift.

But, she did not feel the jaws of death.

She felt the hot sting of blood being poored onto her exposed skin. She shot up, feeling the head of the wolf fall onto her chest. In a horrific pool of blood and bone, the wolf's head went to her lap as she sat up. Daenys froze, chest heaving with panicked breaths. She wanted to toss the head off of her, throw up, and cry all at once. But she was frozen with shock.

"Is that you, Princess?"

That was not Cregan.

Daenys lifted her gaze from the head to the voice. A man, tall and sharply built, dressed in all black. Perhaps close to Daemon's age, with a salt-and-peppered black beard and hair.

She could only stare at him, eyes wide with terror and adrenaline leaving her body. The pain in her arm was flaring, only growing as it bled onto the snow. It could hardlt be called snow anymore, the radious around Daenys was pure blood red, including herself. Her hair was dyed red, too, sullying into her usually perfect white. She was sure she would never feel clean again, that the hot blood would remain on her forever.

"My lady, focus on me." His words were stern as he knelt to meet the Princess, a hand on her face.

She listened, looking into his crystaline blue eyes. A northerner, he must be, born and raised. "...Ser?" She whispered, hoarse.

He nodded, focusing her face to his and not letting her gaze drift. "Where are you, Princess?"

The question startled her from despondency, confused. "Where am I? The North?" She asked.

He chuckled at her bemusement. "Aye, lass. Very good. What's your name?"

She felt annoyed suddenly, this man was asking very stupid and obvious questions. He called her Princess, he must know the answer. "Daenys Velayron. Who are you?"

"The man who saved your life. You're very welcome, by the way." He smirked crookedly, chortling when she only narrowed her eyes.

"Seamus Knott, at your service, My Lady. I am sworn to the Wall, though, so I am no Ser." He bowed dramatically, though his bitter smile showed his discontent with his position. Perhaps he was sent to the wall in a way he deemed unjustified. Whatever the reason was, Daenys did not want to be alone with him for long. The Night's Watch was loyal to the crown in respect only. She was content to visit, but only because Cregan would be there to look after her. Theives and rapers were a majority of the Watch, Daenys did not want to take any chances with them.

"Why are you so far from the wall, Seamus?" Daenys asked him, still sitting lamely in her spot.

He raised a brow, "why are you so far from your protector?"

She bristled, curling in on herself protectively. Had he been following them? For how long?

Seeing her demeanor shift, Seamus raised his hands in a show of surrender. "Not like that, your highness. I was simply speculating. A princess so far in the North hasnt happened in a century. You are news to us all. At Castle Black, we were informed that you would be arriving with Lord Stark soon."

It did make sense. Though, only three days had passed since they left–

"Step away from the Princess." A voice growled behind the Knott man. Daenys perked up at the sound, the familiar tone putting her heart and mind finally at ease. Ice was held straight to the back of his neck, a perfect extension of the Lord's arm.

Cregan stood tall and firm with his expression almost unreadable. Would he be angry with her for her recklessness, send her back to Dragonstone? Or perhaps he was more angry with the Night's Watch for spilling private information to all the residents.

"Cregan!" She gasped, trying to stand to her feet but was stopped by a wave of vertigo. Her feet were like water, unable to hold up any weight. She held her head with her uninjured hand, cradling the pain.

Cregan glanced at her briefly, brow furrowing at the state of her, before he stepped closer to Seamus. The tip was a mere inch away from the man's stubbled neck, though the older man paid it no mind. Grinning, "I saved the poor maiden, she'd be dead by now if I 'aden't. Where were you, Stark?"

Cregan's jaw ticked, "How did you find her? We're too far from any houses for this to be considered a mere coincidence." Clearly, he was ignoring the man's words. Probably because he was right. The blood had long cooled in on top of her, leaving the liquid to intensify her shivering.

Seamus looked down at him over his narrow nose, arrogantly sizing the lord up. His blood-covered steel sword was still at his side, clenched around a gloved fist. "I have been summoned weeks ago to head the beckoning of Lord Tully. I received a raven from Castle Black's Commander only a few days ago, informing me of the Warden escorting the Princess to the Wall. I merely wished to ensure our Princess' safety."

Cregan was unmoved. "I can handle that perfectly well. She is under my protection, my watch."

"Your watch hasn't even begun, Stark. You have no idea what it means to serve the wall. Sitting pretty in Winterfell while we work thanklessly for our keep." Seamus sneered, nasty expression twisting his uncomely features.

"Who's fault is that, Knott?" Cregan bit back. Daenys was left confused at their familiarity. Did they know each other?

Seamus' grip on his sword tightened, the leathery squeeze ringing in Daenys' ears unpleasantly. Her ears rang harshly, blood rushing to her head and drowning other sounds out. About to vomit her rabbit up or faint, she did not know. Dusk, who had been loyally by Cregan's legs, now moved to Daenys' side at the flick of his owner's wrist. She placed an unsteady hand on his brown shoulder, allowing him to take her weight as she leaned into his warmth. He wasn't quite as comforting as Cregan had been, but the relief was nice.

Dusk huffed into her ear, though he still stared up at Seamus the whole time. When Daenys fell asleep, the sound of steel sheathing filled her muffled ears.

🗡

She awoke to a weight over her body, bundled like a blanket. The strong scent of iron and wood filled her nose and surrounded her entirely. She opened her eyes to see Cregan at her side, under the cover of a tent. Looking around, she spotted none of her belongings. His tent. He crouched on his knee, tenderly wiping at her wound with a wet cloth. While he was deep in concentration, his brows knit together tightly, a frown dragging his handsome face down.

"Cregan?" He lifted his head to face her, turning his attention from her arm.

He smiled tightly at her, clearly still bothered by something. "My Lady, I'm glad to see you awake." Cregan told her earnestly.

Daenys sat up with his help, allowing his arm to linger at her back. "What happened to Seamus?"

Clenching his teeth, Cregan fought the urge to roll his eyes childishly. "Outside. Dusk is watching over him. I had to tend to you before I deal with him."

She kissed her teeth when she felt the sting of her arm come back. The wound was clean, though deep and raised. It would scar her for the rest of her life, a painful reminder of her dreadful night.

Cregan, noticing her downturned face, lifted her chin to look up at him instead. "It is a warrior's scar, Princess. We have that in common." He smiled more genuinely now as he lifted his sleeve to reveal his bicep, raised slightly with an old white scar, one that mirrored hers.

"Dusk bit you?" She gasped, brushing her fingertips over the scar. Gingerly, as if she thought it would still hurt him.

He chuckled fondly, watching her eyes rack over the scar. "When we first met. I was six and ten when I first became Lord of Winterfell. I was forced to imprison my uncle and his sons that day to take my place. I left for a solo hunt to be alone for a while.

He found me first. The size of a normal young wolf. We were hunting the same dear when I shot it down first. Dusk didn't take to kindly to that," He gestured to the teeth marks. "But I won that fight, gave him a scar to match. He's stayed by my side ever since." Cregan left out the part where he discovered his soul bonded to Dusk's, due to him being able to warg.

Daenys smiled, moving her hand away from his arm. "I'm glad I didn't have to fight Morningstar to get her to obey me." She laughed. Cregan laughed along, white teeth glinting in the light.

Cregan survived a direwolf attack all on his own when he was but a young man. Daenys would have died without assistance against her attacker when she was a woman grown. Clenching her jaw, she started, "I'm sorry for leaving last night. I...wish I could tell you my reasoning, but I don't know myself."

He took her face in his hand, inspecting it long and hard. Her violet eyes were half-lidded, a sign of her exhaustion. They still shined brightly in the day's light like they always did. Two perfect amethysts looking straight at him.

"You did nothing wrong, sweet girl." Cregan's thumb brushed the apple of her cheek, rubbing at the clear skin. She now noticed the feeling of the sticky blood was gone almost entirely, except from her dress. He had washed it all off of her in her unconsciousness. "You couldn't stop it, could you?"

Like he knew everything, Cregan seemed to hold all the wisdom in the world. Perhaps that was the result of being a Lord at six and ten. "I stopped walking when the wolf came." Daenys nodded.

He kept his hand in its place while he took a moment to think. "I should've been there, It's my duty to keep you safe, and I failed. Seamus is right, the creatin he is. If he hadn't come first, you wouldn't have come home to the Queen."

She smiled crookedly, telling him she was not upset. "From now on, I must insist." He focused entirely on her, making her face feel hot from the intensity. "You be with me at all times. In my tent, hunting with me, Hells, even on horseback with me if that's what it takes to keep you safe."

"I do not wish to be your burden, My Lord."

"I wish it," He shook his head, a secret pang in his heart that she hadn't called him by his name again.

"Even while you hunt? I am not quite as stealthy as you, I would just scare everything away."

"I will teach you." Cregan said firmly, leaving no further room for arguments. "We will stay in larger clearings from now on, even if it means walking greater distances. I want Morningstar to be with us as we sleep. I do not trust Knott."

"Speaking of," she started, tentatively. "How do you know him?"

He sighed deeply, reaching into his satchel bag to grab a roll of bandage. While he worked on wrapping her arm, he spoke. "My father and him grew up together. His brother, the Knott heir, warded with my father for some time to learn his Lordly duties. Seamus just tagged along because his father wished to be rid of him. He was a jealous, spiteful person even as a boy. When their father passed, he left everything to his rightful heir Kent.

Seamus killed him when he had not even been Lord for a year. He was sent to the Night's Watch by my father, a worse punishment than death for a man who only cares for titles and power. In the Watch, all brothers are equal."

"I do not want to kill him because he saved your life. I also do not want him anywhere near you." Cregan grit his teeth, frustrated at his torn opinions. He owed the man what he asked of, which was simply to accompany Cregan and Daenys to the Wall. Cregan cursed himself for his own honor, the Lord of Winterfell always kept his word.

"I promise, if he does anything, anything, to make you uncomfortable, I will take care of him." Cregan told her, earning a short nod from the Princess.

He stood, bandage firmly in place, helping her up with a sturdy hand. "Change your dress and wash up, then I will bring you hunting." It was too early to allow her to sleep, he wanted her to sleep tonight so that they may only travel during the day. They had completely lost this day thanks for the circumstances, and he wanted to spend the remaining time doing something useful. Also, he wanted to keep his mind of maiming Seamus where he stood.

While Daenys changed, she grimaced at the sight of blood that had made it way further down her dress. The garment was not fixable without a miracle, so she left it outside of the tent for Dusk to use as a temporary bed. Less weight for Mylo to carry, she supposed. Daenys scrubbed the dried blood from her neck and chest, not yet able to clean out her hair. That would take running water, not a damp cloth.

Stepping outside, she doned a new white dress, lined with grey fur. The sight of grey reminded her of the young wolf, filling her heart with guilt. She hoped he hadn't felt fear or pain in his quick end. She was met with Seamus, standing a few yards away from her tent. He wore a wild and proud grin, baring his teeth to her.

"Princess! You're awake, how delightful." She nodded her greeting stiffly. "I have a gift for you to take home, a proper warrior's trophy for the Queen." He presented the wolf's head from a bag attached to his belt, its yellow eyes still wide open, but holding none of its previous hunger. Daenys gasped in horror, bringing a hand to her neck. Cregan, who'd been waiting near the edge of camp for her, strided forward.

"Is this a cruel joke on your Princess, Knott?" He began, hand hovering over Ice. Before Seamus or Cregan could begin to argue again, Daenys rushed forward to take the pup's head in her hands. Both men stared at her in surprise.

Without saying a word, though she had many specific words for the brute, she gently held the wolf's severed head as she brought it to Morningstar, who had been laying in the edge of the clearing. She looked grumpy already, perhaps because of the direwolve's irritating presence, but purred when she saw Daenys finally coming to her. Daenys sat the head gently in front of the dragon's head, "Daor havor."

"Dracarys." Daenys commanded the mighty dragon, stepping back many paces. The three people, and the curious direwolf, watched on as the dragon scorched the head until it was naught but ash. The snow around the head had melted to reveal black burnt ground. Silence filled the campground. Daenys bowed her head, whispering to herself. "Kostagon aōha iemny sagon forever lēda sir"

She turned to look up at Seamus, who had a strange look on his face. "That was a cruel thing to do, ser. Not to me, but to the poor animal who lost it's life to starvation."

Seamus clenched his jaw at the scorning, never having been told off by a girl, much less a younger one. "Aye, Princess." Was all he said, trodding off to sulk in his own small tent.

Daenys looked to Cregan, who smiled softly at her. "That was kind of you, my Lady."

She thanked him, "could we find a river before our hunt? I wish to rid my hair of this blood before it becomes permanently red."

He laughed jovially, agreeing. "I do not think red hair would fit you. White is your color." He gestured towards her dress, then to her dragon, making her grin warmly.

🗡

Cregan led her to the nearest water source he could find, merely a small stream, but it would work just fine. Politely, Cregan turned away, although she wasn't taking any garments off. She snickered to herself at his chivalrous attitude, refusing to watch a lady wash her own hair. It took a lot of scrubbing and numb fingers before she was finally content, seeing no more red wash out.

"How does this look?" She asked the man behind her, who turned to inspect her. Wet hair still dripping onto her furs, she looked as lovely and youthful as ever. Her hair seemed longer, curls not yet bunching it up. "Beautiful, my Lady." He offered her a hand. Daenys hoped that her cheeks were not visibly red at the simple compliment as she was lifted by Cregan.

He smiled that secretive grin once again, walking ahead of her. "We will set a snare up first. Then, I'll teach you how to make a kill."

Daenys swallowed harshly. The last thing she wanted to do was kill another animal. She knew it was necessary, though. The Gods would not be spiteful for Daenys filling her stomach.

She followed Cregan into the denser part of the woods, carefully stepping in every place he did. After a while of her silence, he glanced behind himself with a concerned look, only to stifle a laugh at her delicate tiptoeing. He shook his head good-naturedly, grateful that she was trying.

Daenys watched him carefully set up a snare with the coil of metal wire in his pocket. They both crouched over it, leaving it in by a rabbithole before moving on to set another. This time, Cregan gently instructed her to do her own. It took a while, almost thrice the time he took, but he never got impaitient with her. Finally, she set the wire to the sticks coming out of the snow, triumphantly looking to Cregan for approval. "You're a natural born hunter, Princess." He declared, watching her smile with pride.

The two sat far from their many snares for hours, sitting against a sturdy pine. No words were needed as they kept a comfortable silence between them, Daenys finding herself struggling to stay awake with the peaceful atmosphere. Cregan glanced to her from her side, placing a hand over hers. He traced symbols, cracked joints, and tapped their fingers together rhymically to a pattern she followed by doing the same back to him. The focus kept her awake, her mind on the new task.

As the sun was near setting, Cregan led her to his snares first, picking up two rabbits and his wires. He whispered Northern words of respect for the animal before swiftly stabbing it in the heart. They inspected Daenys' next, finding one rabbit struggling in it. She hesitated to step forward, only urged on by Cregan. "Here," he handed her his dagger, a fine piece of steel that had a direwolf's head placed on the pommel. She kneeled next to the rabbit, thanking it quietly for its sacrifice. She took a deep breath it, releasing it as she stabbed into the white chest. Daenys paused a moment, grimacing. Blood stained her leather gloves, another reminder of the wolf. He would haunt her forever, it seemed. She clutched the rabbit gently in her arms, holding it like she held baby Aegon and Viserys. Cregan fondly smiled at her. "You did well, Princess." They collected the wire, walking back to the campsite. After wiping the dagger off with a kerchief, she handed it back to him.

Cregan gently pushed it to her chest, shaking his head. "Keep that one on you. So I know you're safe, even if we're apart."

Daenys, awestruck, nodding slowly. This was her first gift from a person that wasn't her kin and not a new dress or piece of jewelry. "I will keep it safe." She grinned up at him, earning a hearty chuckle.

They burned one of the rabbits over the fire, sharing it amongst themselves. It seemed like Dusk had gone on his own hunt, gnawing on the leftover bones of his dinner. While Daenys and Cregan settled into his tent for bed, she felt too tired to be nervous. His comforting scent surrounded her like a blanket, his warmth radiating throughout the tent. He slept without the furs of his cloak, a wonder that Daenys was curious about. Did he run so hot that the chill of night didn't bother him, only needing one fur blanket?

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Daenys snuggled into the furs he had given her for her own tent, almost grumbling at their lack of distinct scent. The two fell asleep side by side, the purrs of Morningstar soothing them to sleep.

Daor havor - not food

a wolf does not care for blood

Kostagon aōha iemny sagon forever lēda sir - may your stomach be forever full now

beheadings have become a trend in westeros, i see. i just remembered robb's direwolf and how he was grey.

did you catch that double meaning lol

also rip grey wolf, you would have loved being housed and fed in Winterfell by Cregan

I'm thinking that Morningstar is the child of Silverwing and Vermithor since they're a mated pair. We don't know if they produce asexually or not, so idk. Definitely Silverwing's baby though, since she's the only white dragon alive, but when I imagine Morningstar I see a white smaller version of Vermithor, I adore his horn and face design.

Who knows, the dragons seemed to be random colors. Arrax is white and Vermax is green, even though Syrax is yellow and theres no male whites or greens

[svearehnn]

in his head | azriel x reader

summary: azriel has lost sight of reality, but reader helps him find his way back to the light.

a/n: sorry, but i don't know what this is. i was trying to write my novel, and then i abandoned it, and then this happened. i didn't edit it. enjoy|

tw: bad words and mental health

Azriel would never pull you under–but he thought he would. He watched as a smile lit up your face, Nyx giggling as you hid behind your hands. No, he knew his darkness would devour your light. He was not worthy of you.

So as he always did, he loved you from afar. Just as he did with Mor and with Elain, he hid behind his shadows, he observed and rarely spoke. He felt himself drift further and further from reality as he watched his family fall in love one after another and he was left with nothing. The only gifts he was given were curses driven by cruelty and violence.

No wonder The Cauldron didn’t make Elain my mate. He felt so vile. His hands had killed many, his own soul tortured by even more. Every day his body ached and every night his mind drove him to insanity. He would pull you under with him if he tried to love you. He wouldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t.

“Azriel? Are you alright?” Your voice echoed through the shadows that clouded him. Suddenly, there was light and you were standing in the middle of it as if you were the one bringing the sun to him. There was a look of concern on your face, one that Azriel wanted to smooth away with his hands. They twitched as he moved them behind his back, the leather of his gloves shifting slightly. He caught your eyes as they flickered down and back–you had noticed the movement.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He stated quietly, though there was a slight waver in his voice that you had both grasped hold of. Azriel swiftly looked away, trying to hide in the shadows but they were hiding themselves.

“Want to go watch the stars?” You asked, a gentle smile on your lips. Azriel nodded without a second thought, eyes still scanning the room for his dark wispy friends, yet they were nowhere to be found. You clasped his hand in yours and then he met your eyes, and they melted him.

Your eyes were heavenly, filled with intrigue and a sense of compassion that he noticed in you on the first day the two of you met. That day was filled with so much sorrow, yet you somehow found the light within it all. Even after being dumped into The Cauldron yourself, your first thought was to crawl to Azriel, to place a firm hand on the wound in his side that was bleeding out. You had smiled at him then, too.

With a gentle tug from you, he started to follow. He needed to get out of his head, but for some reason, Nyx’s birthday party had him falling apart. Watching Mor with Emerie and Elain with Lucien still seemed like too much to bear. And even then, it was hard to watch as Rhys and Feyre became their dreams and how Nesta and Cassian conquered theirs. It was impossible to be surrounded by love when he felt as though he had been denied it. 

The breeze hit him and he tried to focus, to figure out how he was already outside, but then you came into view again as you led him to the edge of the balcony. You let go of his hand and held onto the railing as you leaned back against it and tilted your head up to the skies. Azriel copied your motions and damn, the stars were dazzling, more so than usual in the Velaris sky. It seemed as if he were to extend his arm and reach out his hand, he would be able to grab one and give it to you.

“Want to talk about what’s going on?” You asked out of the blue. He turned his gaze to you, but you were still watching the stars. Your throat swelled as you swallowed. He looked back up at the sky.

“There’s nothing–” before he could finish, you laughed softly, chin tilting down. You turned fully to him, arm holding you steady against the railing.

“Of course there’s something, Azriel. I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been distant.” That smile never seemed to leave your face. It was like a lullaby, and this one was willing him to speak, to open up to you and say it, I love you. But he couldn’t.

“I just…” His hands twitched at his sides. Azriel crossed his arms over his torso, hiding himself the best way he knew how. “I haven’t been sleeping.” You nodded, urging him to go on, but he kept his mouth shut. He felt the words clawing up his throat, ready to spill out on a slip of the tongue.

You took his hands in yours delicately, testing the waters. He didn’t pull away, in fact, he wanted to pull you closer. But he wouldn’t allow himself to.

“Az, you can trust me. I’m here for you and I want to help. Let me be a shoulder for you to cry on. Please.” He wanted to look into your eyes, and so he did. That was when everything seemed to just click into place. The stars above the two of you bloomed as he stared at that thick, golden thread between you. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe you.

“Is this real?” Azriel whispered, afraid that his own voice could shatter the moment. At the sound of your choked sob, he let the sight of the thread linger in the back of his mind as he searched for you, you, you. And there you were, a hand held over your heart, a smile stretching wide across your face. Tears were streaming down your cheeks like raindrops and he wanted to kiss them away. 

You laughed. “Please do.” Then he knew. This was real, you were real–all of it. He was not denied love, but rather tested, and now you, the embodiment of the golden petals of forsythia and the dazzling rays of the sun, were his. You were the opposite of all the darkness that he was. Yet you were his.

He obliged your request and stepped forward, releasing the one hand of yours that he still held in return to cup your face. His lips were feathers on your skin, and your tears a salty sea on his lips. Azriel kissed those tears away and then he kissed you like it was the last breath he would ever take.

His mind was clear for the first time since Amarantha. He could finally see, and what he could see was you. The love that pulsed through the bond kept him grounded, even as his head threatened to leave for the clouds. It was you, it had always been you, and he was too blind to see it. A smile flickered on his lips, full of longing and admiration that finally came to the surface.

“I love you,” he choked out, his own tears crowding his waterline. You leaned your forehead against his, breaths mingling as you spoke the words again, and again, and then one last time for good measure, so it would really sink in.

“I love you, Azriel, to the stars and through the shadows, I love you.”

Under the night sky of Velaris, where the stars were held in your eyes, Azriel kissed you. And it was then that he knew: he would not pull you under, but rather, you would reach out your hand and drag him out and into the light.

[redbean-nom]

yeah, based on how it was attached it seems like he can rotate it a bit (with the scomp end) but it doesn't actually work for hand purposes - when he was in the hallway it looked like he was resting the fake hand on top of his blaster to keep it in place, which is probably why he never got a new hand before

Did no one else notice that Echo’s hand didn’t really work? I love that they gave him a hand and all hahaha but I watched it all through the season finale and it didn’t move.

It just didn’t.

[prythianpages]

Shine Bright, Shine Far | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian meets you for the first time. The exact person he needed, not knowing that you are also the exact person he's been dreaming of.

warnings: none? this is fluff, I guess?

word count: 2,012

a/n: this can be read as a stand alone fic!

As the Night Court's general, Cassian had faced countless battles, proving himself a formidable Illyrian warrior. He held the titles of Carynthian and Lord of Bloodshed. Winning was in his nature, a skill he had mastered. Or so he thought.

Because in matters of the heart, defeat was all he had come to know.

He tried not to let it bother him. Winter Solstice, his favorite holiday, was fast approaching. He looked forward to decorating the River House with Feyre, even though Azriel would begrudgingly fix it. Rhysand never cared much for such trivial things. It had become a tradition since the first year Feyre joined them, much like the annual snowball fight, another event he eagerly anticipated—after drinking the night away, of course.

Winter Solstice had always been a time of joy and happiness. Cassian loved his family and friends. But things are different now. Not a bad different, just different. Rhysand had his little family with Feyre and Nyx. Azriel and Gwyn were slowly but surely becoming a thing. Mor had taken to spending more time with Emerie. Amren remained obsessed with her Summer Prince. Elain and Lucien now lived in the Day Court, but they had come to the Night Court to celebrate among family. And Nesta? Last he heard, she was in Autumn.

It was a bittersweet feeling. He was happy to be among his loved ones, yet there was no denying the shadow that had settled over his usually fiery spirit. A sense of loneliness crept in as he watched his closest friends and family find love.

He tried his best to mask his feelings, believing he had succeeded. But of course Feyre had seen through it. Cassian had been making his way into the kitchen of the River house for a night snack when he ran into Feyre, Mor and Emerie.

“Get dressed! We’re going to Rita’s!” Mor had exclaimed and Feyre was quick to encourage him. The look in their eyes made it clear that they wouldn't take no for an answer. It was either go willingly or be dragged there by force. Cassian chose the former.

That’s how Cassian found himself at Rita’s with Mor and Emerie surrounded by pulsating music and vibrant lights. Mor had ordered them drinks and after an hour of drinking, an attempt at an awkward conversation over Cassian's love life was made. However, Cassian was able to defer it, quickly changing the topic into something lighter.

The drinks kept coming and another hour later, Mor and Emerie were twirling away on the dance floor, leaving Cassian alone in the private booth. Just as he intended. He wondered whether he should order another drink.

As he glanced toward the bar, his eyes were drawn to a pretty female in shimmering pink. She immediately caught his attention as there was a certain glow about her, but he noticed her gaze was fixated on a silver-haired male across from her.

With a sigh, Cassian worked to chug the last of his drink and decided it was time to leave.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

You let out a deep sigh as the thoughts you had tried to dance away finally caught up with you. The silver stars dangling from above seemed to mock you, twinkling along to the blaring music. It had been a week since your magic had failed you during the ritual, and although the stars had shown you they had not forsaken you, each day since then had brought a new struggle.

Your magic was waning and it worried you.

It’s why you found yourself at Rita’s. You had easily made friends with a group of blue-skinned fae, but you couldn’t keep up with them on the dance floor in your platform pink heels. Your body ached for a break, so you went to the bar and decided to people-watch—a favorite pastime of yours.

You gaze wistfully at your drink, swirling the purple liquid with a straw in one hand while propping up your chin with the other. Maybe it's time to call it a night and go wallow in your self-pity in the comfort of your home…

Shine bright, shine far, don't be shy, be a star, your mother’s voice echoes through your mind.

It was from a song she had made up for you. She sang it to you often as a babe, and when you were older, she reserved the song for days when you were feeling a little down. A reminder that you were meant to shine, no matter how difficult the journey.

If she were alive, she’d definitely be singing the song to you at this moment. But now, it’s her memory that sings it for you, always resurfacing when you need it the most.

She'll sparkle and glitter, and shimmer to the end...

And like always, mother is right. You would overcome this mountain. Climb it and reach the top and shine bright like the three stars over Ramiel do.

As you sit there, you feel a familiar, subtle tug within. Your magic, though weakened, responds to the environment around you. It picks up on the emotions, feeding off the joy and excitement in the air. Following that faint pull, your curious eyes find a fae male with silver hair that gleams like moonlight. His cat-like eyes are fixed on another male, who sits far from him and surrounded by his friends.

There's a look in those feline eyes that you know well. He tears his gaze away from the dark-haired male, whose neck glimmers with green scales. When you notice the dark-haired male stealing glances back at the silver-haired fae, your magic stirs like a whisper in the wind, your heart fluttering in response.

 Shifting in your seat with a sudden eagerness, you lift your head and signal at one of the bartenders. She's a pretty fae with delicate wings aglow behind her, a familiar face you've often seen but never learned her name. As she approaches, you lean in and quietly share your plan. Her brow furrows skeptically at first, and when she briefly scans the room, you fear rejection. 

Yet, when her eyes meet yours again, they widen with understanding and gives a nod.

Your heart continues to flutter, pink stardust dancing at your fingertips in anticipation. You watch as she delivers a drink to each of the males, a replacement for their previous ones. You had instructed her to make them believe the other had sent it. As the two males exchange glances, your magic begins to hum through your veins, pulsing louder with each passing moment. The air around you crackles with an electric charge, ready to burst forth.

When the two fae finally bridge the distance between them, blushing and smiling, your magic surges through you like lightning, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. A small, satisfied smile curves your lips.

Even with your magic faltering, you still had your touch.

Retrieving your heart-shaped compact mirror from your purse, you check your makeup and apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, mesmerized as your heart-shaped pupils pulse back at you. Still buzzing with the energy of your magic, you feel another tug. This time, it pulls you toward the dance floor.

Following the tug once more, you make your way through the crowded pleasure hall, purple drink still in hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of two fae dancing. There’s an awkward distance between them, as if hesitant to take that one step closer, and you wonder if that had been the source of the tug. 

The pink stardust dancing around your fingertips flutters through the dance floor and toward them. You wince when it gives a harsh push, sending the smaller fae crashing into her partner’s chest. Relief soothes your worry when it heeds the same results you had been hoping for. The taller fae catches her in his arms and the two share a look before continuing in their dance. This time, much closer and with gazes full of answered hope. 

Oh, how you love, love...

The thrill of your magic begins to wane, the once vibrant energy now fading into an indistinct hum. You decide that’s enough fun for the night. Yes, you still had that touch but you worried exhausting it as your magic was harder to control now. Just as you neared the exit, karma came for you as someone crashed into you much like your magic had done to that fae on the dance floor and sent you sprawling into something hard.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

No, not something. 

Someone.

The sudden force sent your drink splashing, the cup falling to the floor with a resonant thud. Stars above, you cursed, hands flying to your mouth as you realized your drink had splattered across a pristine white shirt. Flustered, you avoid eye contact and immediately began apologizing, offering to fix it.

“It’s okay…Are you okay?”

The voice–a male’s– was surprisingly calm and deep. Very deep.

Acting on instinct, you’re murmuring the words to a small cleaning spell before you could stop yourself.  Pink magic slips from your fingertips but instead of vanishing, the stain deepens, the purple remnants of your drink taking on a darker hue against the canvas of white. Your eyes widen at the aftermath of your faulty magic.

“No,” you squeak out, finally answering your victim’s question. 

“I’ll send you a new shirt. Two, if you wish...” Your voice trails off nervously as you finally look up at your victim, realizing how tall he is. So tall his form towers over you easily, large membranous wings casting shadows over you. Your throat tightens and one heel lifts, ready to take a small step back

“Or three! One can never have too many white shirts as you clearly have seen…”

As your gaze travels upwards, you freeze, completely star-struck by the sight of the most handsome male you’d ever seen. Your heel meets the ground, body rooted to your spot.

Tall, strong, and muscular, he stands bathed in the vibrant, colorful lights of Rita’s. An ethereal glow dances along his dark hair and the scar that runs through one of his brows. Despite his rugged features, there is something strangely soft about him that draws you in.

And he seems oddly familiar, like you’ve seen him before, though you can’t place why.

“But how will you find me?” He asks, more amused than upset.

You should be relieved but you’re not even sure you’re breathing when his eyes meet yours. In the dim light, you can discern the hazel color of his eyes, so warm and inviting, and it takes you a moment to register that he had spoken to you.

“What?” You blink at him, still wide-eyed.

His lips quirk upwards. “How will you send me the shirts?”

“Well, the same way I just found you now,” you reply, your voice now steady despite your racing heart. “Magic.”

“Magic,” he muses, a glint beaming in his eyes.

“Mmm, I’ll throw in a free love reading too! As an extra apology…” you say, reaching for your small purse and pulling out one of your business cards. You practically shove it into his hands, forcing a bright smile to your face though it wavers nervously as he looks at it. “Oh, and don’t worry! A love reading requires minimum magic, no mishaps there. So don’t be shy!”

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

“But this is how to find you…how will you find me?” Cassian can’t help the question, picking up on a fault in your words.

 But as he looks up from your business card, you’re already walking away.

He lets out an amused exhale, a tentative smile playing on his lips, the stain on his shirt long forgotten. He watches as you slip out of Rita’s like a shooting star. Swift and dazzling before vanishing into the night, leaving a sense of wonder in its wake.

A very bright and very pink shooting star.

And as he glances back down at the card in his hands, he finally takes a good look, the white stars on the card blinking back up at him, as if alive with celestial energy.

Stardust Soulmates. Find your path among the stars. He turns the card around, finding your information on the other side, your name glowing softly at him. Y/n D’Amore. Love witch.

“Love witch,” Cassian murmurs to himself, thumb brushing across the shimmering letters.

And in that moment, he realizes you are more than just a chance encounter. You are exactly who he needed. A gentle spark ignites from deep within...

The stars had, in fact, listened to him that night...

And perhaps this was a sign that his dreams were on the brink of coming true.

a/n: The song Love Witch's mother sings to her is actually the song from the Life Size movie, Be A Star. which might come back in the future. I made a poll for this part and it was a close call as to how Cas and you would meet. This approach was more of a flustered/shy/completely embarrassed one but worry not, the next time Cassian sees you, it will be at your shop and you'll be more self-assured and witty. I'm debating on whether Cas should drag Az with him too or go alone. Might make a poll of that too lol.

The second option was you failing in your match making skills and Cassian, who was seated next to you at the bar, calling you out on it. Either way, you were left flustered and giving him your business card.

[series masterlist]

series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisuke , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human

[authorspirit]

Emery Ito

Child of the ocean, jealous, child of the islands, neat, romantic, family-oriented.

Athlete.

Emery Ito is the eldest child of Kiyoshi Ito and bears a striking resemblance to his father, not only in appearance but also in his life trajectory. Like his father, Emery showed promise as a young skier athlete. However, he ultimately chose not to pursue a professional athletic career, instead opting to join his father in running the family business as his father did before him with grandfather Naoki Ito. In the end, Emery is quite contempt with that choice. Known as a socialite, your party isn’t a great one if he’s not there.

Concerning his love life, he was known to have multiple flings with various women, but nothing serious. Only the ones closest to him would know he had a crush since his teenage years on the star snowboarder Keiko Nakagawa. However, after one kiss, she deemed him unworthy of her time and he rapidly gained the reputation of a playboy. So what a shock to everyone when Keiko and him officially became a couple. He did not want to lose her again and soon proposed. For the ones not in the intimate circle of their friends, questions arose: how and when did those two become an item? The most shocked one was none other than the secret baby mother of Emery: Moe Shimizu. She recently gave birth to a child, Ren Shimizu. Though it was only meant to be one passionate night, she still felt betrayed upon learning that the famous playboy decided to settle down, so she kept the pregnancy a secret, sure that she could do it on her own. However she soon realized that her child needed to know his father and that she may need the Ito’s money for him. So she went to Emery just mere days before his big day, giving him the shocking news. Upon discovering the truth, Emery felt shaken and asked Moe to keep it a secret as he was to process the news. After a lovely wedding and a honeymoon, Emery also was informed of Keiko’s pregnancy. Which he didn’t take well, creating tensions between the newlyweds. Now nearing the end of Keiko’s pregnancy, he still has not confessed his secret and is too scared of the aftermath of his lengthy decision. But sooner or later, the truth will be out.

My bf said he had the vibes of a rich dude that knows he’s rich and a bit of an a-hole. So I think he’s perfect. His character is actually sweet but he’s a mess. Actually he’s very much giving the same vibes as Arthur. 👀

[tangents-within-tangents]

The thing about the "Clone Rebellion" show

I've become a lot more critical of The Bad Batch lately and I think I realized that’s because it’s over. 

That means that 1. I can look back on the whole show retrospectively, and 2. any issues or hopes I had no longer have a chance to be addressed or resolved.

I realized I’ve been very caught up in thinking about the missed potential of the show, and a lot of my disappointment/frustration with the direction TBB took (esp in regards to the "reg" clones) is coming from the fact that a Clone Rebellion show does not exist to make up for it. For now this is all we have, and it’s hard for me to just accept TBB for what it is, because I at least have been operating under the assumption that this is all we're going to get, that this fabled spin-off show is just not going to happen. 

Because here’s the thing: We all kinda talk about it as if it's a given, a not if but when, but as far as I can tell the concept came entirely from the fans. Just speculation and wish-fulfillment. I don’t really keep up with news/interviews/behind the scenes stuff, but I’m pretty sure there have never been any mentions from official sources (y'all freaked out about one animation job listing that could be for literally anything). If there's something I’ve missed let me know, but for now at least there have been no announcements or plans or anything.

The only thing really is that the gaps left in TBB feel like intentional setup (we never got an Echo and Rex solo episode like we did with Crosshair and Cody which feels like they are saving it for something else, Echo’s fate was specifically left open-ended by not mentioning him (for better or for worse) in the epilogue, Emerie joins them at the end setting up for a female character to be in the main cast, etc) but that still doesn’t guarantee that we will ever actually get a show. That feels more like leaving the possibility open, not necessarily making plans. Especially since TBB actually puts any potential Clone Rebellion show in a really weird position:

There's a lot of important clone-relevant stuff going on during TBB (like Order 66, Kamino, the stormtrooper bill, Tantiss) but I doubt they would go back and show that again since it would either be repetitive by rehashing TBB’s timeline, or confusing by relying too much on people having watched another show. Yeah most people probably would have, but that still doesn’t work very well narratively if your important beats are just implied and happening offscreen. Like I would kill to see more of Nemec and Fireball but then they would just disappear after being killed off (for pretty much no reason) in another show! Hemlock and Tantiss base were designed specifically to be clone-centered threats, and the underground network were the ones who actually spent time searching for it, but then they weren’t there for the rescue so there would be no resolution. But if we instead pick up at the end of TBB it seems like most clones have already been phased out of the Empire by then anyway. Yes you could still make things work either way and come up with new plots and stuff but it’s still a tight spot to be in and it doesn’t really feel like the writers took that into account.

Whether we do get another show or not, I think it still had a negative impact on TBB though. Like that show already had a cameo problem, but 'setting up potential future show at the expense of the current one' is such an issue in any media (esp Star Wars and Marvel these days). Since we got pieces of both 'important stuff happening to the clones' and 'fun mercenary adventures with the Batch' rather than just committing to one or the other, or equally to both, it just causes issues for both shows. I’ve been working on a full post about the lost potential, but for now I’ll summarize as:

It hurts TBB bc we get these glimpses of a more meaningful story that our main characters, the ones the show decides to dedicate screen time to, choose not to participate in. It’s like that trope/bad writing thing where the story they mention (Budapest, or like the Cullens' backstories) sounds more interesting than the one they are actually showing us. Like it’s okay that the Batch didn’t take the same route as Echo and Rex, but the route they did take should be of equal or greater importance/intrigue, and it just really wasn’t. It was mostly directionless side quests and that made the characters seem selfish and a lot of the plots feel filler-y because there are so many important things going on elsewhere. 

It's just starting to feel unlikely that we'll get TWO post-RotS "clone-centered" shows, so why waste the one we did get avoiding the more important clone-centered storyline? Why not at the least equally divide the time you did have between the Batch and Echo and Rex? Why make an ensemble show if you're not going to try to actually balance all the characters? Why bring back a fan favorite clone just to push him to the sidelines and ignore all his potential? Why focus on the "clones" who aren't affected by/don't care about clone issues?

Believe me, I still want a show focusing on Rex and Echo's efforts to save the clones (I just wish it was the show we got in the first place)! I genuinely hope that we will get this show someday, not just because I love clones and this concept, but because I really see a need for it, there's a lot of gaps and potential to be filled there (which is also why I'm okay waiting bc frankly I don't trust the current state of Star Wars writers to properly handle that potential). But I’m treating it with a more “not until proven otherwise” approach (because we all know what happens when we get our hopes up lolll). So for now this is what we have, and unless that changes, I think we should treat it as such.

A lot of times when I see people mention the idea of a new show it's as a way to fix any issues within TBB. Like ‘this wasn’t resolved that well, maybe in the clone rebellion show…’ ‘Maybe Tech could still come back in the clone rebellion show’ ‘Maybe Crosshair’s character arc could be more complete…’ etc. But again we don’t know for sure if there ever will be another show, and even if there is, TBB should be able to stand on its own. There are some things I think another show could do (like address the plot hole of why the Empire never came back to Pabu, or actually doing something with the CX troopers) but narratively it does not work for major plot arcs or character development like that to be resolved elsewhere (like how a major Mandalorian plot point happened in the middle of TBOBF???). If we do get a Clone Rebellion show I don't think it would make much sense for the Batch to play much of a role in it. TBB ended with a clear send off for those characters, whether that was fully satisfying to you or not, that was the narrative intention. The Batch could show up as cameos, but this wouldn’t be their story anymore, and we know it couldn’t be because they were very intent on retiring and clearly never cared much about the regs or Empire so why would they suddenly change their minds?

A Tech lives plotline would have to be centered on the Batch, that’s his family, but that would just be really out of place in a separate show, especially post-finale (which confirmed that Tech did not come back in canon (at least until Omega joins the rebellion, if you want to be nitpicky ig)). There always could be ways to make it work anyway if you really wanted to, but we saw what retcon battles did to the Sequel Trilogy, and it still wouldn’t really fix any problems in TBB as a show. I’ve said it before, but if the writers were going to bring Tech back then they simply would/should have (they knew season 3 was the final season and they had plenty of time which they spent fighting space gators and whatnot instead).

I'm not saying this to spoil the fun or like dash anyone's hopes or anything. I don't actually know any more than anyone else, I have no impact on what Disney and Lucasfilm do (and clearly they don't really care about making narratively functional choices anyway, get roasted). For all I know this post could age horribly. I just had some thoughts to get off my chest, because I think it’s unproductive to judge TBB based on the idea of an unconfirmed potential other show--that does not (yet?) exist and wouldn't be about them--instead of looking at it for what it is. 

TBB is over. Canon happened, what we have is what we got. We can love it and hate it and critique it and write our au’s and fix-its, but I really think that it’s done. We have to make space for endings, that's an important part of storytelling (which is also why they need to be well-written but whatever). And we also have to make space for other stories to be told. The Batch had their show, they spent the screen time they had on what they did. Those characters got their time and they got a happy ending wrap up, and now it's (hopefully) time to let some other clones take the spotlight.

[areyoudreaminof]

The First Annual Starfall Snipe Hunt. Chapter 2

The kids are BACK! Will they figure out what a snipe is? Or is Uncle Cass just pulling their leg?

Chapter 1 here.

In the dim fae lights, Cricket stared at the ceiling, wondering how she was going to get them out of this one. 

Her book sat absently on her lap as she laid in the large guest bed. Her feet twitched, missing the familiar weight of her hound at her feet. She, Nyx, and her sister had stayed up later than usual, until Aunt Feyre came in to tell them it was bedtime, then Papa a few minutes later to tell them to “go to bed, now.” They hadn’t gotten any further in planning what they were going to do about that snipe hunt. 

If she were home, she’d have gone out onto her balcony, sat in her hammock, and watched the waves lull under the moonlight and look for shooting stars. But her room in Velaris didn’t have a balcony. Though she did open her curtains to watch the blinking lights of the city on the horizon. 

The door creaked, and Cricket shoved her book under her pillow, knowing she had been caught. But it wasn’t Mama or Papa at the door. 

“Cricket?” 

Froggy stood in the dark hallway, whispering with a terrified expression on her face, clutching her raggedy stuffed rabbit. Wordlessly, Cricket pulled back the blankets and shimmied over, as Froggy shut the door and scrambled in. 

Her baby sister snuggled underneath the covers, eyes scanning the room for any unwelcome shadows. Cricket knew she wouldn’t be turning off the fae lights tonight. 

“Do you want me to rub your back?” Cricket asked in a whisper. 

Froggy nodded, turning to her side as Cricket softly rubbed her back, her hand tracing small circles, something Mama had always done to help them sleep when they were scared. 

“Are the snipes really going to eat us?” Froggy said in a hushed voice. 

“No,” Cricket scoffed, “Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass are just being dumb and trying to scare us. They wouldn’t actually let us get eaten by anything.”  

“Then why are they taking us out hunting?” her little whisper wobbled under her breath as she turned to face Cricket. 

“Because they’re just pulling a prank on us. Snipes probably aren't even real. We can go to the library while Mama and Papa deliver the jams to Aunt Emerie at the shop and then we can ask her and Aunt Mor if they’re even real when they all get back, okay?” 

Froggy snuggled her rabbit closer, twirling the softened ears in her fingers, “But what if they are real?” she asked with the threat of tears looming in her voice.  Cricket threw her arms around her baby sister, “Then Nyxie and me will make sure you’re okay. Then we put hound poop in Uncle Rhys’s cake and scare Uncle Cass even more.” 

“That cake will be smelly,” Froggy feebly giggled. Her eyelids began to flutter closed and a jaw cracking yawn escaped her. 

“I’ll put lots of chocolate in it,” Cricket promised “and we’ll keep the light on tonight.” 

Froggy mumbled a reply before sleep took her, but Cricket strained her ears for any sign of the grown ups downstairs. The din of soft voices and clinking glasses were just audible enough downstairs, but the risk of being spotted if she went to the hallway to spy was too much, since her door nearly faced the landing. 

Are you still awake, she thought, hoping Nyx would be the one to pick it up. 

Yeah, Nyx’s voice entered her head softly. He showed her his perspective, his hands fiddling with one of his building models on his desk. Froggy’s with you?

She’s asleep now but she’s terrified, Cricket let Nyx see Froggy’s sleeping form next to her, clutching her rabbit for dear life. Do we even have a plan?

Poop cake sounds pretty good actually, it might be your best idea so far. From the room next door, Nyx tapped a soft signal to show no one else was listening in. 

Grandfather is bringing Trajan for Starfall, so it should be easy. I say we ask around at the library, play dumb and get back at them on the hunt. 

How? 

I don’t know, but we’d better come up with something fast. 

______________________________________________________

“No, absolutely not. They are children. That is just cruel.” 

Nesta’s eyes were as cold as ice as she started Cassian down across the table. Feyre had her arms crossed and her mouth set in a hard line. Elain’s expression was muted, but Lucien had a shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

“Sweetheart, it’s just a silly tradition. We won’t go far, it’ll be just a fun little scare. We did it in Illyria as boys,” Cassian said slowly. 

“Nyx is eleven and Cricket is ten. Besides, they like the thrill. And let’s not pretend the girls haven’t been riding Pegasus’ and horses since they were infants.” Rhys added, though he would not meet Feyre's eyes. 

“Cricket isn’t ten until after Calanmai, and Froggy is four! A baby!” Nesta hissed as the hairs on Cassian’s neck went up. “And you’re just going to take them out on a goose chase? In the dark?”

Maybe she’s right. Froggy is too young. Cassian sent to Rhys. 

It will be fun. Rhys assured him. They’ll love it. 

“Snipes, huh?” Lucien mused, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. “We did hunts as children in Autumn. Ours were birds, what are you thinking of making them?”

“Bloodthirsty badgers,” Cassian said as the corners of his lip spread into a smile, “they like eating fae flesh.”

Lucien’s brows shot up and he snorted. “Well, Cricket will get a good scare out of it, and you know how she and Nyx like to plot when they’re together. Better to get ahead. Froggy will be terrified, but she’ll want to be included.” 

"Do you want to be included?" Rhys asked with a smile. 

"No, he does not," Aunt Elain answered, "the girls will never forgive him." 

“Is this revenge for their library prank on Solstice, Cassian?” Nesta snapped, 

“Wha-? No, Nes! We’re just-“ Cassian sputtered with some desperation, but Nesta interrupted him.

“Because let me remind you, that you are a five hundred and forty-eight year old male,” she snarled, “And very soon you’re going-”. 

“That’s enough,” Feyre snapped, cutting Nesta off, “the children are asleep.” 

Rhys smiled wistfully, “No, they’re not. Nyx and Cricket are currently planning their revenge. Something about putting hound shit in my cake.”

Nesta grabbed the last biscuit out of Rhys’ hand, “Anyone who scares children like that deserves to eat shit.” 

“That’s very good, you have to admit,” Lucien murmured with a chuckle, ‘maybe not as good as the tadpoles in the tub.” 

“The townhouse still has a frog infestation from that,” Feyre groaned. “If you’re going to do this, do you need the theatrics?” 

“Where’s the fun with no theatrics, darling? We’re making memories, right Elain?” 

Elain quirked her brow, daintily sipping her tea. “Go ahead and take them on the hunt. But let me warn you, they will get revenge. Not right away, but they will plot and plan and hit you where you least expect it. And you’ll deserve it,” Elain took a small sip, “We won’t punish them either, no matter how much you scream and piss yourself.” 

“I’m quite looking forward to what they come up with.” Rhys grinned. 

___________________________________________________________

_____________________________________________________________

Fear gnawed in Froggy’s stomach. She had felt like throwing up all morning. Nightmares plagued her and she woke up before dawn as snipes gnawed on her legs and arms. She was too terrified to get up and use the bathroom and she waited for what felt like hours until Cricket woke up and it was safe to leave. The twins had made waffles with fruit and whipped cream for breakfast and she couldn’t eat any of it, which made her feel terribly guilty. She had clung to Mama and Papa most of the morning, but decided to be brave and go to the library with Nyx and Cricket. But she wasn’t brave as she sat in the big, dark library. She didn’t know what was worse, the fact that she wanted to throw up or cry. 

At the small corner table they had chosen, they had poured over books while Aunt Nesta finished her rounds. Cricket was thumping her head softly on the table, muttering to herself while Nyx was pouring over a massive book. Froggy had chewed off most of her nails as she fought back tears. 

“I can’t find anything in here about snipes,” Nyx hissed as he flipped through the book, “not a single thing!” 

Cricket snatched the brick of a book out of his hands, “Gimme that,” scanning the pages quickly, she took in key words that she repeated; hibernation , cubs .

“Well of course you didn’t find anything, this is a book about bears !” She snapped the book shut in front of Nyx’s nose, who flinched away. 

“I thought they were a type of bear!” Nyx rubbed the tip of his nose as if he’d been attacked. “I was trying to keep our options open.” 

“In what world is a bear and a badger the same thing, you dingus?” Cricket hissed, “Why didn’t you just ask Ananke like I told you?” 

“I did! She just laughed at me and said nothing ever happens on a snipe hunt, and then she kept talking about indexes,” He whined, “ You ask her!” 

Froggy’s vision began to blur as Cricket swatted Nyx on the shoulder, nausea rolled up her throat. “Please stop fighting,” she whispered feebly as she felt herself gag. 

“Uh oh” a voice, Cricket’s, said from somewhere far away. 

As Froggy heaved, Nyx thrust the brass wastebasket in front of her before she vomited. Her sister rubbed her back and pulled back her hair, while Nyx shushed her. Her gagging became sobs as she finished. 

“I don’t want the snipes to eat me,” Froggy howled miserably as her sister wiped her mouth, “I don’t think I’d taste very good!” 

“You’re not going to get eaten,” Nyx said with his breath through his mouth, her throwup had filled up the basket. “I’m going to get Aunt Nesta.” he retracted his wings and held the basket at an arm's length from his face. Tears of shame and embarassment threatened to let loose as Froggy watched her cousin walk away. 

Cricket nudged a cup of water into her hands, “Here, drink this slow.” Froggy hiccupped down the cool water, washing away the burning acid in her throat. “I want Mama,” she begged her sister, even though she knew Mama was with Aunt Feyre down in the city and Papa was at Windhaven with their uncles.  

“She’ll be here soon,” Cricket promised, picking her up. Froggy wrapped her legs and arms around Cricket, who was always brave no matter what was happening. So was Nyx, he was the bravest of all of them. Why did she have to be a dumb baby who was scared of everything? 

“You’re not a dumb baby, Froggy.” she heard Nyx say out loud. Behind him, Aunt Nesta looked worried as she rushed over, reaching her arms out for Froggy, who leapt into them. Aunt Nesta smelled like book pages and cake as she shushed and rocked Froggy. “Let’s go wait for your Mama at the House.” she heard Aunt Nesta say. Suddenly, Froggy couldn’t stop crying into Aunt Nesta’s neck as they left the library. She saw Clotho, clutching her chest as she rose from her desk. 

“I’m so sorry, Clotho, ” Froggy wailed as she reached for the priestesses hand, “I threw up everywhere!” 

Clotho gave her fingers a squeeze as they passed, “It’s okay, Clotho is just worried about you.” Nyx assured her. 

“It’s all cleaned up, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” Aunt Nesta whispered in her ear and kissed her temple as they walked through the halls of the house. Froggy burrowed further into her arms, squeezing her eyes shut as sobs seemed to come pouring out of her chest. She didn’t know how to stop. Every time she took a breath, another wave of crying came. Her eyes hurt, her tummy hurt, and she was so scared . 

A soft whisper and a touch and suddenly, “Come here, my darling.” 

Mama took her gently out of Aunt Nesta’s arms and Froggy allowed herself to open her swollen eyes as Mama took her into a dark, cool room in the House. Mama’s warm arms and smell soothed her, her chest wasn’t so tight anymore but she still couldn’t stop crying. 

“I don’t want to get eaten, but I want to go,” Froggy whimpered. She still felt silly and stupid but the faceless creatures from her nightmares still kept gnawing on her legs every time she closed her eyes. 

“You’re not going to be eaten, you are safe.” Mama kept rocking her, “we don’t have to do anything. Just rest.” Froggy felt sleep creeping up on her and a small tickle in her brain as she rocked dreamlessly with Mama. 

__________________________________________

Nyx furrowed his brow as a dull thump began to pound in his temple, but managed to take all the scary images out of Froggy’s head. Whatever monster she had dreamed up for the snipe was terrifying and Nyx didn’t feel an inkling of guilt about going in her mind. “She’ll be alright, I took the nightmare out, so it won’t scare her anymore.” Cricket shuddered as he showed her the shadow monster. 

“Thank you for doing that, Nyx.” Nyx nodded, still worried about his baby cousin. Mama had flown Aunt Elain up so soon as he began calling for her, he had also told Papa, but he wasn’t sure if he could hear him that far into Illyria. 

“This is ridiculous,” Aunt Nesta snapped, rising up from her chair, “We ought to just tell-” 

Aunt Nesta stopped suddenly, color draining from her face and a green tinge flushing into her cheeks. “Excuse me,” she hurried out the door as Mama followed, leaving Nyx and Cricket alone and utterly confused. 

“Is she throwing up again?” Cricket wrinkled her freckled nose in concentration as she stared at the swinging door. 

“Huh? Throwing up?” 

“She threw up this morning when we came up. Didn’t you notice?” 

Nyx racked his brain, “No? She seemed fine. Just mad at Uncle Cass, but she’s always mad at him.” 

Cricket just huffed dramatically and mumbled to herself. Nyx shrugged, Cricket was always mumbling about something. 

“So, snipes aren’t real,” Nyx announced, “we can all agree on that. Now we just have to figure out what we’re going to do.” 

Cricket flopped back on the sofa, “It’s not going to happen now,” she gestured towards the hall where the whole family had gone off their separate ways, “Not with Froggy having a breakdown.” 

“Ha! If there’s one thing about Papa is that he doesn’t know when to stop, he’s just going to keep going. For the Solstice snowball fight last year, he made a demeted moat for his hideout and Uncle Az and I got trapped.” Nyx flexed his wings, remembering how sharp and heavy the snow was. 

Cricket slid down the sofa even more, laying flat on her back and making her red curls stick up. “It’s spring, so that means all the racoons and badgers have their babies and are coming out of hibernation. We could use that to our advantage. Uncle Cass is terrified of opossums.” Nyx thought for a moment, opossums weren’t too hard to catch and racoons could be lured out with the promise of food. He and Cricket could get a badger out of its den in a pinch if needed. It wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“Okay, so we get an opossum or a raccoon, are we going to hide it and let it loose?” Nyx could wear his bulky sweater to hide the animal, it would be crisp in the mountains anyway.

“You still have the wolf whistle?” Nyx nodded, he had carved the whistle with instructions from High Lord Eris, who used his own to train his smokehounds. Nyx had used it to keep wolves away at camp, but wasn’t sure what that would do. “We can maybe work some foxes up and get them out too. I hate last minute pranks.” she whined as she crossed her arms. 

“I’ll bring the wolf whistle and the owl call I have, we get a raccoon or opossum, let it loose, then make a run for it,” Nyx could see the plan in his mind perfectly, it would need to be done quickly, but it wasn’t impossible. Cricket nodded in agreement, “That could work.” 

“We’re back!” Uncle Cass’s voice boomed through the halls and Nyx and Cricket raced to the balcony as Uncle Cass, Uncle Lucien, and Papa appeared on the veranda. Wordlessly, Cricket led Uncle Lucien to wherever Aunt Elain and Froggy had gone off to, while Nyx was left alone with Papa and Uncle Cass. 

“Where’s your mother?” Papa asked absently as he sauntered towards the dining room. Nyx shrugged, “With Aunt Nesta,” he kept his mouth shut, he knew Aunt Nesta wouldn’t want Papa to know she was sick. 

“Well, we can start lunch without her, ah, there you are Cricket! Time to eat.” Food appeared on the long dining room table as Cricket entered the room alone with a scowl on her face. 

Uncle Cassian flexed his wings as he sat at the table, a plate appearing in front of him. “Where’s Froggy?” he asked as he tucked into his food.

“She’s napping with Mama and Papa,” Cricket snarled, “she’s so scared of your stupid snipe hunt, she didn’t sleep last night and hasn’t eaten all day,” Cricket’s nose crinkled in rage as she stared daggers down at Uncle Cass and Papa.

“Well, now she can stay up later,” Papa replied as he cut into his chicken.

“She threw up in the library because she’s so nervous,” Nyx said accusingly, “and she only stopped crying when Aunt Elain came back up to the House. Mama had to fly her up after I called.”

“Did she now?” Papa said, lifting a brow. “Well, perhaps we’ll just take the two of you.” Next to him, Uncle Cass cleared his throat, Nyx could sense some guilt before Papa barged in and closed his mind off.

“You’re going to regret this.” Cricket said with a wild smile as she batted her lashes. Nyx tried desperately not to laugh.

“Is that a threat, Cricket?” Papa said with a stupid grin on his face. 

“It’s a promise.” Cricket replied sweetly. 

Uncle Cass roared with laughter. Cricket narrowed her eyes as they darted between Papa and Uncle Cass. Uncle Cass’s face was red from laughter and Papa kept chuckling to himself as he ate. 

“So, what’s a snipe then?” she challenged as she elbowed Nyx for backup. He straightened himself,  they wouldn’t get anywhere if he was going to be a scaredy-cat. 

“It’s a small little mammal, a bit like a fox or a badger. They’re nocturnal-“ Uncle Rhys began. 

“Try again. Foxes are completely different from badgers.” Cricket interrupted with pure confidence. Foxes are a completely different subspecies to badgers. She sent over to Nyx. Cricket was something of an animal expert, after all. She had her smokehound, several hamsters, a chinchilla, and an axolotl. 

Papa cleared his throat, “A snipe is a nocturnal mammal that lives up in the mountains. They live in dens in the ground and are quite nasty.” he clarified, looking at Uncle Cass. 

“Snipes are fast and they like to bite. They’ve got night vision, so a snare won’t work. You have to outsmart them to trap them.” Uncle Cass said, folding his big arms across his chest. 

“Okay then,” Nyx challenged, “so how come I never heard of them at the camps?” 

“Because they’re the least of your problems at camp,” Uncle Cass said with a mouth full of potato, “they’re more out toward Ironcrest anyway.” 

Nyx shook his head, it didn’t make a lick of sense and they all knew it. “Fine, we’ll go on your dumb hunt.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Uncle Cass exclaimed, softly punching Nyx on his bicep. Papa picked at his jacket like a rat with a big grin on his face.

Soft murmurs carried down the hallway as Uncle Lucien led Aunt Elain into the dining room, with Froggy clutching her neck. Uncle Cass leapt up, reaching out his arms, “Come here, Cupcake!” Froggy shook her head furiously, hiding her face in Aunt Elain’s neck. Nyx saw a flash of sadness and guilt on Uncle Cass’s face. 

“Froggy is going to sit out the snipe hunt this time,” Aunt Elain said calmly, “She’s going to stay with her aunts and have a night in, if that’s alright.” 

“Of course,” Papa said, “We didn’t mean to upset you, dearest. I hope you’ll accept our apology.” 

“I accept,” Froggy squeaked as she sat down in her spot and began to eat. 

“You don’t have to forgive him, if you don’t want to.” Mama said as she and Aunt Nesta entered the dining room. 

“I agree,” Uncle Lucien said with a snicker as he stole a sausage off of Uncle Cass’s plate, who was too busy looking at Aunt Nesta to notice. As the conversation began to pick up at the table, Nyx caught Cricket’s eyes, alight with fury. 

We’ll get them good, Nyx promised, they won’t know what hit them. 

___________________________________________________

The forest outside of Velaris was cold, even for late spring, Sharp mountain air went through Cricket’s nose with a vengeance. Night Court air always made her breathing weird. 

She and Nyx had worn their wool trousers and boots, and Cricket had managed to sneak a slingshot into her sweater. Nyx had worn his bulkiest sweater, perfect for cradling an animal. Night had fallen a while ago, and she, Nyx, Uncle Rhys, and Uncle Cass had been hiking since dusk. Froggy had been left behind with Mama, Papa, Aunt Feyre, and Aunt Nesta. They were baking cookies and pies and making ice cream. Cricket kicked a pebble along the path, she hoped they saved some for when they got back. 

She could see alright in the dark under the full moon, but Uncle Rhys didn’t want any other light if possible. She had tried to push some rays of daylight out of her hands, but Uncle Rhys stopped her. “We won’t catch any snipes in the sun.” 

I’ll make you suffer in the sun , she thought nastily. 

“Do you hear that?” 

Uncle Cass had brought the group to a stop. They had entered a thicket that sloped down into a small creek. Rushing water and frog song filled the air and an owl hooted somewhere in the distance. She nudged Nyx as she spotted the fallen log slightly off the path, surely it would be home to some creature. Nyx nodded as he spotted the log, making his way softly over while her uncle's backs were turned. 

“I don’t think there’s going to be anything in that log,” Uncle Rhys said without turning his back, “certainly not a raccoon or an opossum.” She could hear Uncle Cass wheezing with laughter. 

“What are you talking about?” Cricket hissed as her heart began to pound, they couldn’t have known. They weren't even at the House when they planned it. 

“I think you know,” Uncle Rhys hummed. 

A loud SNAP sounded from behind them. “What was that?” Nyx asked in a hushed tone. 

The frog song stopped suddenly and harshly, only the rushing creek sounded in Cricket’s ears. The blue moonlight began to soften into a gray fuzz as clouds began to obscure whatever light there was. The cedar and pine trees ahead began to warp and fade into darkness in Cricket’s vision. 

Something smelt off, literally. The pine and mountain juniper on the breeze had been replaced by nothing. Cricket sidled up to Nyx, locking arms. I thought snipes weren’t real she sent to him. 

Well, they seem pretty real now! Nyx sent back. The hairs on the back of Cricket’s neck seemed to rise, one by one. 

They were being watched. 

“Something’s here,” Uncle Cass mumbled, “we can wait it out, or we can fall back and try to catch it.” 

“That sounds like a plan. Maybe we-” with a loud thump Uncle Rhys was knocked down and dragged off towards the creek. 

“RUN!” Uncle Cass shouted.

Cricket didn’t need to be told twice, she sprinted off the path, desperately trying to summon whatever daylight she could. Her hands began to glow faintly, but her heart was thumping and her breath labored, making it difficult to hold light. 

“We’ll fly!” Nyx screamed as he grabbed her waist, falling backward and being swept down the path. Cricket screamed as she reached for Nyx, who she could hear crying. Holding her hands in front of her, she tried to concentrate her power through her fear and sobs. Her fingers gave off a faint glow of light as a clawed hand of shadow and nothing grabbed at her wrist, yanking her down to the forest floor. 

Cricket thrashed and screamed, hitting nothing as the hand dragged her down the path. “Help me! Someone please! NYX!” 

The shadow hand dropped her as she gasped for breath, squeezing her eyes shut as tears escaped. Nyx, she sent out, where are you?

“I-I’m here,” Nyx’s broken sobs came from somewhere on her right, and she began to crawl towards him. She grasped him into a hug, clutching him for dear life as they both began to bawl. “We’re going to DIE,” Cricket wailed helplessly.

"See, Rhys, you always take it too far,” a familiar voice said with frustration, as a lantern of fae light hit their faces. 

Uncle Azriel stood in the soft, golden glow, his shadows peeking curiously over his shoulder. “You said it was just going to be a prank, look at them. They’re terrified.” 

“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty good,” Uncle Cass said, as his big figure moved into view. 

“That’s the whole point, Az,” Uncle Rhys said, “Are you two alright?” 

Cricket wasn’t sure how the rock ended up in her hand until she launched it at Uncle Rhys. “I hate you!” she screamed, pushing herself up and throwing herself towards him. Uncle Az caught her mid air, dodging her kicking legs while she tried to claw the air for leverage. Uncle Rhys just laughed.  

Nyx stood up silently, pushing his father off. His eyes looked haunted, his face drawn. “I’ll fly you home,” Uncle Cass said as Nyx stared off into nothing. Cricket didn’t have time to think as she and Uncle Az launched into the air. 

___________________________________________

“Frosting is better than paint because you can eat it,” Froggy giggled as she scooped a piece of cake into her mouth. 

“I could make a painting of frosting,” Aunt Feyre said with wide eyes. I could do a sugar canvas and use pink and purple frosting.” 

After her nap, she felt much better and less scared. Mama and Papa had made a big dinner and she and her aunts made dessert. Aunt Gwyn had stopped by and the night became even more fun. She had gotten Froggy a little book about birds from Sangravah what had small paper birds fly out if it. She had almost forgotten about the snipes, but she knew now they were pretend. 

“Snipes aren’t real,” Papa had told her, “Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass just want to play a prank on Nyx and Cricket. They would never, ever hurt you.” He made Froggy promise not to tell them the secret, but Cricket and Nyx ran off to plan that she didn’t have the time to say anything. Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass said they were sorry for making her scared, though. 

A loud boom of wings sounded overhead, “I think they're back,” Aunt Nesta said. Everyone made their way towards the veranda, the House providing bright, golden light on the balcony. 

“Hi, Uncle Az!” Froggy was delighted to see him with the group outside. She began to skip over to give him a hug, when she noticed everyone else. Twigs and leaves were snarled into Cricket’s hair and mud caked one side of her face. She looked awfully mad. Next to her, Nyx looked pale, his eyes were downcast and his wings tucked in tightly. “What happened?” Froggy whispered. 

“We found the snipe, Cupcake,” Uncle Cass said as he pushed Nyxie along into the family room. He looked like a zombie, as he shuffled his feet. Aunt Feyre grabbed his face, worried. While Mama and Papa had run over to check on Cricket. 

“Is that where you went?” Aunt Gwyn asked as Uncle Az bent down to kiss Froggy. “I didn’t know they’d take it that far.” he mumbled. 

Froggy crept up to Nyx, “Are you okay?” she whispered as she gave him a hug. “I’m okay,” he mumbled. 

“You’re very brave.” she reminded him, kissing his cheek. Nyx stirred as he hugged Froggy back. 

She left Nyx with Aunt Feyre as she went to check on her big sister. She could see tear tracks in the mud that caked Cricket’s face. Mama was picking out leaves and sticks from her hair, while Cricket sat breathing hard. “You’ll be sorry.” she growled. 

“What was that, Cricket?” Uncle Rhys said with a laugh. Aunt Nesta shoved him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” Cricket exploded, shooting up from her chair. She pointed her finger at Uncle Rhys like a dagger, “ I will get you back, Uncle Rhys. You’d better sleep with one eye open!” 

“I look forward to it,” Uncle Rhys said with a bow, Cricket let out a feral scream. 

“You deserve everything that’s coming for you,” Aunt Nesta said as she swiftly left the room, Uncle Cass following her. 

Froggy took her sister by the hand, leading her towards the bathroom. She supposed Cricket would be sleeping with her tonight. 

___________________________________________________

Nyx straightened his deep purple jacket in front of his mirror. After the snipe hunt, he had taken the next day to recover. He was utterly terrified as he was dragged through the forest floor that night, but even he had to admit it was good. Uncle Az using his shadows was something he and Cricket didn’t see coming. Even though they apologized, Nyx knew they had to get Papa and their uncles back, but they agreed to hold off for a bit and to plan more. Maybe they could get Helion or Eris to help. Nyx knew they would without a doubt. 

Instead, he and his cousins spent the next afternoon with Aunt Mor, who took them shopping in the rainbow. “My babies need clothes.” she announced as the tailors took measurements and made them try on outfit after outfit. Nyx chose a deep amethyst suit for himself, with a blue shirt underneath. He could still run around in it, but it made him look grown up. 

He made his way down the hall, knocking on Cricket’s door. “I’ll meet you out there!” he shouted as he went to the large southeast balcony. Aunt Nesta had gotten sick again this morning, but she had asked that Nyx and the girls meet there at dusk. Aunt Nesta sat in a silver and blue dress, Uncle Cass’s arm draped around her. “Are we late?” Cricket huffed as she and Froggy ran up behind Nyx. 

“You’re just in time,” Aunt Nesta rose, holding her arms out as the children ran into them. The girls showed off their new dresses, Cricket in a deep gold, and Froggy in a soft sage green. 

“We’ve asked you here, because we need your help,” Uncle Cass said, “you’re all much better at planning than we are.” The children exchanged confused looks, “Plan for what?” Cricket inquired. 

“We thought we’d ask you to help the house make a bigger balcony for the cousins for next year’s Starfall,” Aunt Nesta said, “we’re going to need it.” 

A small shudder of magic came over the three of them just then, sharp and metallic. Cricket’s nostrils flared for a split second before she began to shriek. “I knew it! I knew it!” She launched herself into Aunt Nesta’s arms as she kept squealing. 

Nyx sniffed, a small scent met his nose, something warm and tiny. Under her dress, Aunt Nesta’s belly was rounded like a small ball.  “You’re having a baby?” He yelled as he jumped up and down. Froggy began to bounce on her small feet. “Oh, a baby!” 

“Do you know what it is yet? Does it have wings? Do you have a name?” questions began to spill out of the children as they jumped with delight, while Aunt Nesta and Uncle Cass just laughed. 

“The baby has wings, though we won’t find out what it is for a few weeks yet, but you’ll be the first to know.” Aunt Nesta promised with a laugh. 

“And you’re the first to know about the baby,” Uncle Cass swung Froggy to his shoulders, “should we go tell everyone else?” 

Nyx and Cricket led the way, Aunt Nesta’s hand in each of theirs as they met everyone else in the family room. His parents and aunts and uncles waited, chatting in their fancy outfits. Nyx’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “Are we late?” Uncle Cass announced as everyone turned and gasped.  

Mama and all of his aunts began to cry when they saw Aunt Nesta, while Uncle Az, with tears in his eyes, embraced Aunt Nesta and Uncle Cass. Papa and Uncle Lucien congratulated them with excitement, while Amren just nodded and said “Finally.” The excitement buzzed in the air as the golden hour illuminated the family room. 

“I think it’s a girl,” Froggy announced, Cricket nodded in agreement, “a little girl with wings!” 

Nyx laughed, “Just my luck, I’ll be surrounded by girls.” but Nyx truly didn’t care. And anyway, he knew more about dealing with girl cousins than he did about boy cousins, not that Froggy and Cricket only played tea parties and dress up. The idea of a cousin being close thrilled him, he could teach her how to fly and they could sneak out and go on late night flights when they got older, he could build her toys and if she wanted to be a Valkyrie, he would train with her. “She's going to fit right in,” Nyx decided, as he took his cousins by the hands, and picked their balcony for Starfall.

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[shadowqueenjude]

For Day 4 of @emerieweekofficial The Illyrian Heart

This is part 1 of a three-piece story about how Emerie comes to save Illyria!

@christeareads

The Illyrian Princess

Emerie was dressed in a high neck empire purple dress with a belt around the middle for her weapons. This was an exceptionally important day. Although her High Lord would do nothing, she was in the position to make a difference. She admired her fit from her braided crown matching Nesta’s to the tall shiny black boots. It was time.

Emerie had far too much pride to ask any one of the Inner Circle to help, but thankfully Nesta had gotten the hang of winnowing in the last few months. Only Emerie and Gwyn knew about it. Emerie did not know why Nesta did not tell Cassian, but she didn’t push.

When Emerie walked into the Dawn Court palace, she was in awe of how open and lovely the place was, with staircases and verandas and periwinkles everywhere the eyes could see. She was guided to an orange painted room with a long table in the center, most likely a meeting room of sorts.

“Please have a seat here, Lady Emerie,” the servant who led her here said. “Our High Lord will be with you shortly.”

It was difficult to get accustomed to the level of respect she was receiving from a man. Emerie had to remember that not everyone was like the Illyrian men.

When Thesan walked in, Emerie had to work hard not to act starstruck. She had met Rhysand before, but she never liked him much. She felt that he did not do enough to help the Illyrian women; it was precisely why she was appealing to a foreign High Lord, a highly pretty one with warm skin, blonde hair, and kind brown eyes.

“You must be Lady Emerie,” he said. Even his voice sounded like sunshine. Emerie smiled, encouraged. “Indeed, I am Lady Emerie, a representative of the Illyrian people of Night.”

Thesan smiled. “I see. I wonder why you have come instead of your High Lord.”

Emerie thought about lying, then decided that telling the truth would garner more sympathy. “Truthfully, my lord, Rhysand cares little for the plight of his people so long as he gets what he wants from the Illyrians: their army. Who cares if females are getting tortured every day, right?”

Thesan pinched his nose. “This is most upsetting news. I expected better from Rhysand.”

Emerie shook her head. “He is vicious, manipulative, and selfish. My plea comes directly from the common folk of Illyria.”

Thesan looked to her wings. Her pathetic, shredded wings. “I believe you, Carynthian, and I will accept refugees from Illyria. That is what you came to ask, yes?” Heart filled with emotion, Emerie nodded. She thanked her lucky stars that Nesta’s brother-in-law had arranged this meeting for her. She had to express her gratitude the next time they met.

“Who did that to you?” Thesan asked quietly. Emerie knew what he was talking about. Emerie squeezed her eyes shut at the memory. How she had wrestled in her father’s arms, screamed and raged and begged. “My father.”

Thesan swore, low and vicious. “My own lover has wings,” he said gently. “Though they are not the same kind as yours- I would not have you leave without wings.”

Emerie blinked. “What do you mean?”

Thesan smiled softly. “It means that you will get to meet Nuan.”

[totallyunidentified]

HAPPY PROPHECY PEOPLE

Ok ok I know sad prophecies bad so I talked with the force voices and they gave me this

It’s kinda shit but idk

Spoilers for episode 10/11

So it’s the end of the season. Omega and the force kids have escaped with Emeri and Scorch and Tech has been revealed. He’s broken and hurt but obviously he has his family to help him.

Pabu…isn’t an option. The empire is there. They have been there. They know that that’s where the batch would return to. And the fact that Omega, Scorch and Emeri killed Hemcock makes them want to stay as far from the empire as possible.

They finally settle down. They get a farm on whatever planet it is that Cut and Suu ran away to. Or whatever planet they were originally going to in season one.

Hunter and Omega share a house. The other three brothers have their own. Each with their own room. They end up in the same room each night though. Comforting each other through the nightmares.

Tech works as a mechanic. He gets to spend all his time working on machines and he loves it. Phee decides to live with him and they build their own house. They spend their time inventing things and fixing the communities little whozits and whatzits together. Phee is there when Tech has nightmares about his reprogramming and time as CX-2.They never marry but are partners for life. Phee calls him Brown Eyes everyday and he calls her Pirate or on special occasions “Darling”

Obviously Tech figures out how to reverse their advanced aging. Hunter gets to grow old and watch Omega grow up.

Crosshair and Wrecker share their house for a long time until Crosshair gets fed up and becomes a bounty hunter. He only takes the big jobs that pay a lot so he only leaves for a month and then is back for a while. He never finds anyone to settle down with but is content with being Omegas older (younger) brother. Eventually he takes her on one of his hunts and Hunter just about disowns him.

Now Wrecker. Lovable sweet Wrecker. He meets the owner of the only restaurant in town. And falls madly and hopelessly in love with them. They cook, they are sweet, they love Wrecker and he loves them. He moves into their apartment over the restaurant and they get married have 3 kids together who all love their Aunt Omega.

Now Omega and Hunter.

Hunter gets his normal life as a father. He gets to grow old. Something he never thought would happen. He gets to watch his daughter grow up from a little kid on Kamino to a young woman blossoming in a beautiful galaxy. He gets a farm where he can hide in the hayloft when his senses get overwhelmed. He like Crosshair doesn’t think he’ll ever find a life partner. Until he meets the female owner of the farm closest to them. It’s on site, but they grow to respect each other and agree to disagree. It’s later on that they finally realize they like each other and get married. Hunter already has grey hairs but neither care. Both are content to finish growing old together. Hunter raises Omega in a steady home without the fear of her being taken ever again.

Omega gets to grow up. Without fear. Without looking over her shoulder. She helps Hunter on the farm and is in her mid 20s when he marries his beloved. She realizes that she misses her life exploring and seeing the stars. She joins Crosshair on some of his bounty trips but decides her time is spent better elsewhere. She doesn’t like the idea of having to take people without their consent. Even if they are bad. She falls in love with, to her brothers absolute horror a pirate Liberator of ancient wonders as she likes to call them. They travel the galaxy together seeing every planet that Omega never imagined. She always comes back with samples for Tech, treasures for Phee, exotic food for Wrecker, random packs of toothpicks for Crosshair, and stories for Hunter to be told around the campfire.

Every-time she comes home it’s a celebration. Wrecker and his partner bring food and their children, Tech and Phee bring the latest invention for everyone to play with, Crosshair doesn’t bring anything other than himself, Hunter and his wife set up a bonfire together joking and teasing each other about the correct way to stack the wood. The families all come together and sit around the campfire. Swapping stories as the Batch recall their time during the clone wars. Before everything that happened. Before they almost lost what they all held so dear. Family together, now and always.

[vikingmagic33]

Read Chapter 2 on AO3!

More @gwynrielweeksofficial content for anyone looking for pirate Gwynriel banter. I got you. Don’t forget the AMAZING ART by @carasalexandra on Instagram. Art and Fic comissioned by the incomparable @booknerd87

@headcanonheadcase @hlizr50 @mystical-blaise @beaumaismortel @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @trashforazriel @mmiscbutterflies @buttoncup @propagandaprincess @gellybeen @sv0430 @srabergara @hellogoodbye14 @shadowriel @awkwardscience @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Nesta,” Gwyn broke the silence. “Drag that chair out to the middle of the room please.”

“It be bolted down, lass.” Azriel purred.

“I’m not a child,” Gwyn snapped.

“No. Ya are not, are ya, wench?” Gwyn shivered and Azriel just chuckled. Maybe she’d been wrong about no bloodshed? Maybe she could just gut him right there? “You could always tie me up on me bed. I might even enjoy that.”

“Do you ever just shut up? Why can’t you just be quiet? Quiet would be good for you.”

“Ya like your men dark and mysterious, do ya, wench?” Azriel cooed. “I can be that for ya. For a bit. Iffin ya like that sort.” His smile was nearly a laugh and Gywn had to shake her head.

“Gross.” He laughed again, but her whole body had hummed at his words and she was starting to suspect that he knew it. Two could play that game.

[charliespringsleftconverse]

Sweet Love Beneath The Christmas Tree - Chapter Two

Word Count: 3007 | Read on AO3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Write's Notes: Here is Chapter Two of this little holiday trip! Can I just say, I also would like Azriel a man to put me on his shoulders so I can put the star on the tree?? What's a girl gotta dooooo! Anyway, hope you enjoy! @thevalkyriesshadow @acotargiftexchange

Warnings: This three-chapter story contains mature content such as smut in the third chapter. Reader discretion is advised. Age advisory 18+

The trunk of Rhysand’s sleek black Chevrolet Suburban overflowed with an impressive array of high-tech baby gear, a clear sign of new parenthood. She and Azriel fell into a comforting rhythm. They made quick work of unloading everything in just four trips. Once inside, they joined the others gathered around the inviting warmth of the fireplace. A train of elf shoes in every size and color was lined up in front of the hearth, while an array of musty socks—bright and bold—hung out to dry on the small brick step in front of the crackling warmth of the fire, to which Gwyn and Az added their own pairs.

Laughter and lively chatter filled the spacious open room with a ceiling high enough for a tiered ring chandelier to comfortably hold several layers of lighting. The rich, sweet scent of hot cocoa wafted from the kitchen and curled around them. Mor spritzed an apple pie air freshener, infusing the air to clear the room. In the kitchen, Emerie tended to a bubbling pot of hot chocolate, its chocolatey aroma mingling with the evergreen fragrance wafting from the elegantly adorned Christmas tree. For Gwyn, the moment felt like stepping into a postcard, a perfect snapshot of holiday cheer.

Nearby, Feyre and Rhysand stood side by side by the towering Christmas tree, framed by large glass windows that offered a dazzling view of their front yard, now transformed into a sparkling light show and a vibrant carnival. At their feet lay an old storage box brimming with ornaments, remnants of previous decorating efforts. One by one, Feyre and Rhys began filling in the few remaining empty spots on the tree that Nesta and Cassian had left earlier in the day. With all the preparations that had needed to be done throughout the day both inside and outside the house, the Christmas tree had been left partially decorated. Nevertheless, Feyre and Rhysand were content to pick up where the previous decorators had left off. 

The tree was adorned with sparkling lights from top to bottom and decorated with a blend of traditional nutcracker and ballerina ornaments, classic glittering Christmas ball ornaments, and souvenirs from individual travels from the group, including a small red and green trolley from Mor’s summer escapade in San Francisco last summer. Each ornament telling a story of its own. As they worked, the tree transformed into a radiant spectacle, a true testament to the joy and spirit of the season.

Though Gwyn had poured her festive spirit into the outdoor decorations, stuffing the yard with a delightful array of inflatables, she was still yearning for the chance to participate in something that felt truly special: decorating the Christmas tree in the living room. It was the one aspect of the holiday she had been eagerly anticipating. As she reached out for the final strand of garland—a beautifully crafted red rustic ribbon—she felt excitement bubbling inside her as she began to unwrap it.

“Here, let me help you with that garland,” said Azriel. His deep and warm voice came from behind Gwyn as he reached around her body, helping her unravel the ribbon. Being 6 feet tall had its advantages for Azriel, one of them being he could stand behind Gwyn and still see over her head. “Unless you want to end up tangled in it again."

Gwyn paused, soaking in his presence as he enveloped her, his chest pressing against her back. She peered up at him and chuckled, feeling completely at ease. She loved everything about this moment—his body wrapped around hers, the scent of Christmas in the air, and the sense of family with everyone she loved in the room. If she could capture this feeling, this sense of belonging and joy, in a photograph, a tiny bottle, or even in her mind forever, this moment would have been it. “Oh, now you’re just teasing me.”

Azriel bent down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. It sent delightful sparks down Gwyn’s body and ignited her with warmth. 

Pulling the string from his fingers inch by inch, Gwyn took a step forward from Azriel’s embrace and began walking around the tree wrapping the garland. Azriel mirrored her and walked in the opposite direction around the tree, concentrating on the high branches that Gwyn couldn’t quite reach.

In the cosy living space, Rhysand and Feyre had joined Nesta and Cassian on the soft, enormous L-shaped champagne-colored sofa that occupied most of the living room. It was big enough to fit every single one of them on it, and it had many times. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Emerie and Mor were pouring hot chocolate into the festive-themed mugs that decorated the cabinets. For the most part, the mugs were decorative pieces, but once a year they would serve their true purpose and hold hot cocoa.

“I hadn’t even realized we were missing the star,” said Feyre, her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“I think it got lost last year after the boys took it into town on New Year's,” Mor replied without glancing up from her work. A popping sound came from the kitchen, yet not a single head turned. 

“I want what you’re having!” Yelled Nesta from the sofa. Mor was undoubtedly spiking her own drink with something from the bar.

Cassian and Rhysand exchanged glances as if communicating telepathically.

Do you have the start topper? 

No. 

Did we leave it at the bar? 

Oh shit. Didn’t we place it on the town Christmas tree while drunk? 

No, that was before we went to the bar and I know I carried that in—

“Found it!” Holding high for everyone to see, in her right hand Gwyn held a big bright golden star-shaped tree topper. It glimmered and sparkled even brighter beneath the lights of the glowing chandelier. Lights reflected off it and danced across the room like tiny dancing fairies as she turned the tree topper.

A collective sigh of relief was felt in the room.

“Alright, let’s get it up there before it goes missing again.” Azriel declared, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

“Let me get a step stool,” Gwyn suggested as she turned toward the kitchen.

“You don’t need a step stool,” Azriel replied, stopping her in her tracks. He turned her toward the tree and knelt behind her.

“What are you—” 

Gently nudging her legs apart with his hands and head Azriel was quick with his movements. Soon after, Gwyn found herself on his shoulders. Her feet instinctively wrapped around him wherever they could, and her hands grasped the top of his head for balance. After a moment, feeling a bit more stable, she relaxed into his touch when his hands came around her legs. Gwyn could feel her cheeks warming—she wasn't sure if it was the lights shining down on her or the surprise of the moment that was making her blush.

Azriel continued rubbing his hands up and down her legs. She was still cold from being outside, and that friction felt good. Trying not to think about heights, she focused on his touch. “You’re not going anywhere, Gwyn. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Gwyn took in a breath and giggled. “Ready.”

Azriel walked toward the tree, getting as close as he could for Gwyn’s torso to reach the placement point. Hands shifted higher, moving gradually closer to her thighs. In response, Gwyn squeezed his head slightly, but his grip remained steady. She instinctively sat up straighter, coming closer to the back of his head. Gwyn bit her lip, momentarily losing her focus. Breathe, and just focus.

Stretching her hand out, Gwyn reached toward the tree. Almost there… Her body let out a huff when she missed. Just a little to the left next time. She just needed to focus and stretch out a little more. Taking a breath in, Gwyn gave it another try. This time she felt Azriel’s thumbs rubbing circles on her thighs. Was it soothing? Yes. Was it distracting? Also, yes. Unclear what his goal was, Gwyn nudged him with her foot. 

Azriel chuckled. He was certainly being intentional and now Gwyn knew for certain.

“I’m trying to focus, you know,” Gwyn whispered.

“Am I distracting you? I thought I was helping,” said Az, low enough for the two to hear. She could hear his smile through his voice.

“I can’t concentrate when you do that,” she whispered.

Azriel hummed.

“You’re very lucky I love you,” Gwyn said.

Gwyn nudged him again with her foot before focusing back on the tree. With another big stretch, the star was back on the tree. Perfect. The Christmas tree was finally decorated from head to toe, figuratively speaking. Patting her on the leg, Azriel gently placed Gwyn on the ground and they headed towards the sofa with the rest of the group. 

“There’s glitter in my hair, on my clothes, and somehow, in my hot chocolate,” said Nesta. 

“I figured you all might need a little pick me up or just something warm in your body,” said Emerie handing Gwyn a mug in the shape of a Christmas tree. Sitting right next to her was Nesta holding a mug in the shape of Rudolph the red-nose reindeer. The kitchen cabinet had always been full of holiday coffee cups, courtesy of Rhysand’s mother, who had started the tradition of buying interestingly shaped mugs once a year during the winter. Now, they just drank from them. Rhysand had mentioned once that, according to his mother, a holiday house could never be too cheerful or cheerful enough. Hence, the excess of cups of cheer.

“The sun should be setting soon. Are you all headed to the village as Mr and Mrs Claus and the elves? Or as normal civilians?” said Rhysand. His violet eyes glanced at each member of the North Pole, one by one truly taking the time to admire the costuming. Rhys chuckled. There was not an ounce of doubt in his body that the outfits had been Mor’s idea. Ever since her time as an Alpha Phi in college, she’d always been one to coordinate outfits and ‘glam it up’ when she could. And this certainly had her name written all over it.

“Are you going to act like you don’t know us if we do?” Cassian smiled.

“I considered it,” said Rhysand with a chuckle.

“As much as I want to keep the spirit of Christmas alive, I’m sure I can still do that in normal clothes. Plus, I would love to take this off,” said Cassian. He pointed to the green vibrant tights that molded around his muscular calves and thighs. “It’s a little too tight for my liking.” 

“Hear hear,” said Azriel, lifting his glass and taking a sip. Pushing himself off the sofa, Azriel struggled to stand straight. He stretched out his legs and wiggled his feet, but something felt off. He placed his cup to the side for safekeeping. Taking one step forward, he felt a brief pain shoot to his ankle. Maybe he just needed to give his body a good shake. He had just been working outside in the cold for roughly two hours, and sitting down might have stiffened his body more than expected. 

Everyone else, save Feyre, Rhysand, and Gwyn had stayed behind. Upstairs, the others could be heard from the shuffling of feet and the opening and closing of doors as they set off to get ready and change into more comfortable and warm clothes. 

“Everything alright, Az?” asked Rhysand. 

“I, uh. Yeah.” Azriel furrowed his eyebrows looking down at his foot. He glanced back at Rhys and shrugged. “I think I’m just a bit stiff from all the work and then warming up by the fire.”

Rhys nodded.

“You could just need to warm up your muscles again,” suggested Gwyn.

“Maybe,” said Azriel. 

He attempted to rotate his ankle one way and then the other. It felt okay. Gently placing his left foot back on the floor, he made sure not to put too much pressure on it. Taking his time, Azriel began placing more of his natural body weight on it. It felt fine. Az let out a breath. At least it’s not broken, he thought. If it had been broken he would have been yelping from the pain by now. Feeling a bit more confident, he decided to take a step forward. That’s when he felt it. Immediately holding onto the sofa, he placed all his weight on his other foot. Gwyn and Rhys were up and out of their chairs in seconds. 

“It hurts to place my full body weight into it,” said Azriel. Both of his hands were on the sofa as he slowly lifted his foot and gently rotated it to alleviate some of the pain. 

“Sit down and let me take a look,” said Rhysand. His voice was firm but still showed concern. As soon as Azriel was seated, Rhysand knelt and lifted Az’s foot. He was slow when inspecting, in case there were any additional injuries. 

“Can you rotate it?” asked Rhys. Watching as Azriel did so, Rhys nodded and murmured to himself. He then began adding pressure with his hands and fingers across Azriel’s foot asking if the fluctuating pressure hurt, to which Azriel shook his head.

“Nothing too serious. Just a sprained ankle,” said Rhys as he stood. “That leg needs to be off the ground for a bit.”

The room was quiet for a bit.

Gwyn could feel the disappointment in the silence. She knew Azriel was a man of few words but she also knew that he didn’t want to miss out on the tradition of going into town on Christmas Eve to see the lights. Placing her hand on Azriel’s, Gwyn smiled. There was always space for new traditions. “I’ll stay with you.”

“Gwy—”

“I’m staying. We’ll drink cocoa, I’ll make cookies, and we’ll watch a holiday movie. Just you and me.” Gwyn tucked a strand of coppery hair behind her ear and gave Azriel a genuine smile. She could tell that Azriel didn’t want to be the reason she stayed behind, but Gwyn didn’t mind. They had the entire trip to go into town. It wasn’t like the holiday decorations in the town center were going to be taken down overnight. They’d be able to see the light show from now until the start of the new year. “Plus, who knows when the house will be quiet again. Or did you forget how many people there’s going to be here for the holiday?”

Azriel sighed. She was right, they would be living with about seven extra people who would be making noise, likely until late in the night for the next few days. There was no getting around Gwyn when her mind was set. “You’re right, and I do think it would be nice to spend time together. Just promise me you won’t put on Elf.”

“The Santa Clause?”

“Only if we watch The Santa Clause 2.”

“It’s my favorite anyway,” said Gwyn, a bright smile on her lips. With a kiss on the cheek, she was off to the kitchen to start baking cookies. Luckily, Emerie had stocked up on sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies on her trip to the store. Gwyn much preferred these frozen delights that could be popped right into the oven over the ones in the ready-made section of the bakery. For some reason, the ready-made ones always tasted like paper to Gwyn. Had she been at home, Gwyn would have considered making cookies from Scratch but such luxury would have to wait.

After adjusting the oven to an adequate temperature, Gwyn began prepping the baking tray with an aluminum lining and buttering it before layering it with a mix of sugar and traditional chocolate chip cookie dough.

“Why are you making cookies, Gwyn? We’re about to leave,” said Emerie as she popped into the kitchen.

With a spoonful of cookie dough in her mouth, she mumbled, “Az can’t go.”

“Why not?” Emerie asked, confusion dancing in her eyes.

“He hurt himself,” Gwyn explained covering her mouth as she downed another spoonful of delicious chocolate chip cookie dough.

“Why am I not surprised? I specifically TOLD him to use the goddamn ladder when getting off the roof. Did he listen? No!” Mor stomped down the stairs. Azriel slid further down on the sofa shielding his face with a pillow at the sound of her voice afraid she’d chuck a heel at him. Sure enough, he had been warned numerous times.

“She’s going to sing that tune all weekend, brother,” Cassian said, patting Azriel on the back.

“Do you want us to bring you something from the town?” asked Nesta.

“No, but thank you,” Azriel replied.

“I wasn’t asking you. I was asking your girlfriend who kindly volunteered to stay behind, I imagine, given that she’s baking cookies for you both,” said Nesta, zipping up her gray jacket and looking back at Gwyn, awaiting a response.

“Ouch.” Cassian chuckled, tugging on his fleece chestnut gloves. 

Biting the inside of her lip, Gwyn tried to stifle her laughter and shook her head. She could have asked for a woodcarved pegasus for her bookshelf or apple cider donuts—her favorites. They were a soft, sweet treat that she could only find during this specific time of the year. Her mouth watered at the thought. Tempting, so tempting. The reality was, she wanted to experience the holiday village and markets herself. It simply wasn’t the same otherwise. Besides, there was always tomorrow. “I’m good, but thank you, Nes.”

“I’m gonna bring you something anyway,” said Nesta winking as she walked out the door. 

Gwyn chuckled. “Love you, Nesta!”

“We’ll be back late. Don’t burn the house,” Rhysand warned. He was joking, right? Waving goodbye to Gwyn, he closed the door on his way out. Gwyn waved back with one arm as she placed the tray of cookies inside the oven. He doesn’t actually think I could burn the house…does he?

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Some thoughts on season 3 after finishing a full rewatch of Bad Batch:

- On the one hand, it's almost easier to rewatch season 3 knowing now that Tech isn't going to show up. (The hopeful anticipation each week as the season was airing was excruciating. That element, at least, was gone during the rewatch.)

- On the other hand, the Tech mentions still hit like a ton of bricks. I found myself still sobbing uncontrollably over every single one.

- In case it isn't obvious: I wanted Tech to come back. I wanted it so badly. That being said, I came into season 3 knowing Tech very well might not return and recognizing such an outcome is heartbreakingly realistic; and I could accept Tech's death more easily and would appreciate season 3 more if they had provided some kind of actual closure over his demise for all of his family members. The squad - not just Omega, the ENTIRE squad - should have had something approximating a "Mayday moment" for Tech, and I WILL die on this hill. (I will add: if any other member of the Bad Batch had died in season 2, I would have wanted them to come back too, because I wanted the family to have a chance to be whole; and if season 3 had treated them the same way it treated Tech, I would have had the same issue with the lack of meaningful acknowledgement and closure.)

- The show really loved to put Crosshair through the wringer, though they did a decent job touching on his trauma. Crosshair's trajectory was phenomenal, easily one of the highlights of the season. (You know what would have made it perfect? Him actually getting closure over Tech's death. No, a desperate comment about a fallen brother as a reason to embark on a suicide mission is NOT closure!)

- Echo is just... 😍😍😍

- I love Hunter so much, and it became even more apparent during this watch that he is just. so. tired. but he has to keep going to keep his family safe.

- Wrecker - oh my sweet man, he is as solid and dependable as a rock and will never stop fighting for his family.

- Omega was already well on her way to becoming one of my top favorite female characters in Star Wars based on seasons 1-2 alone. Season 3 did not disappoint. Somehow I love her even more now after a full rewatch.

- Phee doesn't get nearly enough credit for how great of a friend she is and how much she does for the Batch.

- Still collecting my thoughts on the overall role of the shadow clones. They are definitely... antagonists.

- Emerie's development was excellent, especially considering how little screen time she actually got.

- I love that we have a show about a group of people who were born to be soldiers and given no other choice... And we end the show with Omega going off to be a soldier, and it is her own choice to do so.

[svearehnn]

black violets and baby's breath | modern!azriel x bridesmaid!reader

summary: feyre and rhys are finally getting married! the tension between you and azriel is palpable.

a/n: part two will be coming soon! once i get my essay done lmao. i hope you enjoy! (i didn’t edit this apologies)

Cobalt blue hugged your form in a silky sheen, falling just above your white ankle heels. You let out a shuttering breath as you smoothed the fabric down, fiddling with the sparkling jewelry that adorned your ears, wrists, and neck. 

You were nervous. Feyre was getting married, your best friend. It was so thrilling to be apart of her wedding party, but you couldn’t help the racing of your heart at the thought of being escorted down the aisle by none other than Azriel, your long term crush and childhood friend. You eyed yourself in the mirror. It was obvious that you looked stunning–cobalt was your color, and a polished look seemed to compliment your angelic fae-like features.

However, you couldn’t find it within yourself to step out of the room. You chuckled sardonically to yourself, fluffing your hair, reapplying your lip gloss, doing anything to delay your inevitable exit. You weren’t even the bride, yet it felt as though you had pre-wedding jitters.

A knock sounded on the door, and you closed your eyes. One deep breath in, out through your mouth, and you opened the oak door. Mor stood on the other side, her brown eyes dazzling.

“You ready?” She squealed, excitement palpable in her buzzing form. You nodded hesitantly and took her hand. She squeezed it, a comforting gesture that helped soothe your rampant nerves.

“It’ll be okay. Az is going to think you’re beautiful. I mean, he always does, but goddamn do you look like a goddess right now.” That forced a giggle from your throat, prompting a smile to form on Mor’s striking features.

“There’s that gorgeous smile! Now come on.” Your blonde friend dragged you down the stairs, causing you to stumble in your heels. Once you got to the wooden staircase, you descended hand in hand. Nerves encased your soul, bees buzzing and stinging in your stomach. 

Yet, once you rounded the curve of the stairs and your eyes locked on Azriel’s hazel ones, all the nerves seemed to fade away. His eyes widened, brows raising, lips turning upward in an imperceptible smile that only you could catch. You bowed your head, cheeks aflame as you continued your decline. 

Mor had disappeared, arms wrapped around Emerie, leaving you alone with the railing gripped between bone white fingertips. Azriel outstretched his hand and you took it gingerly, letting him guide you down the last few steps and onto the natural wooden floors of Feyre and Rhys’ River House.

The two of you stood like that for a moment, no words exchanged, just drinking each other in. Azriel wore a black tux, a cobalt tie adorning his neck, accentuating the tattoos that peeked through the black collar of his shirt. His ears held their signature silver hoops and secondary studs, his fingers adorned with bands of silver and stone. He had slicked back his dark hair and it looked nice, yet all you wanted to do was muss it up to its usual messy demeanor.

Azriel spoke first, licking his lips and smacking them before he spoke. “You look…wow. Just phenomenal, Little Star.” He hummed, appreciation coating his tone. He raised your hand, twirling you around in a slow circle, eyeing the slit that went up to your hip and the low V that showed off your collarbones. The blush that filled your features warmed your skin to a feverish glow from his compliments.

“You look wonderful yourself, Azriel.” You murmured, looking him up and down slowly, drinking in every aspect, every detail of the godly male in front of you. He smirked, biceps flexing ever so slightly beneath the fabric of his tux. He held out the crook of his arm as the music began to filter in through the hallway, signaling the start of the ceremony.

“Are you ready, my beautiful bridesmaid?” You accepted his arm gratefully, unusually quiet within this newfound adoration that he was throwing at you.

“Lead the way, my handsome groomsman.” You replied, swallowing thickly. His arm was rock hard beneath your touch, an obvious indication of his and Cassian’s daily gym ventures.

The two of you walked arm in arm to the french doors that lead to the backyard wedding that Feyre and the rest of the wedding party had set up beautifully.

Cassian and Nesta led the line, the oldest Archeron dressed in a stunning dark red dress that matched Cassian’s tie. Then came Elain and Lucian in sparkling gold akin to the setting sun. Mor and Emerie followed, adorned in midnight purple. Behind them trailed Amren and Varian in their signature North Sea blue.

At the strike of the piano, Azriel gave you a small smile and stepped forward, leading you through the glass doors. The sun was blinding, but even through your squinted eyes you could see the flower arch at the alter filled with calla lilies and black violets, baby’s breath dotted in between. You and Azriel floated on a walkway of white peony petals, eyes hardly leaving each other’s, unable to stop drinking each other in.

It was as if a tension had electrified the air between the two of you the second he had set his sights on you when you meandered down the staircase. Your heart was a doldrum in your chest, begging to break through your ribs, taut and strained. As if Azriel could sense your trepidation, he squeezed your arm in a comforting touch.

He leaned down, breath against your ear, the smell of cedar encompassing your senses. “Breathe, Little Star.” You did as told, lungs expanding, nerves unfolding into the atmosphere and disappearing on the wind. Azriel’s thumb traced patterns into the skin of your forearm, soothing you further.

Your eyes left his, landing on Rhys at the altar. His eyes were alight, a slight smirk on his lips. He glanced between you and Azriel with a raised brow. A blush rose on your cheeks. His smirk widened, shoulders peacocking as though he knew he was right. Which, he usually was, you thought. You wouldn’t dwell on it–at least, not now. It was Feyre’s day, not yours.

The song came to an end as you and Azriel reached the dais, parting to reach your respected positions with you on the left and him on the right. As you turned, he grabbed your hand, extending your arm and bringing it up to press a kiss to the soft skin. Without another word he turned, leaving you stunned. Mor had to pull you to her side, her excitement palpable.

“Oh my gods!” She exclaimed, but you hardly heard her as the music started back up and the doors opened. Feyre stepped out, her black dress sparkling in the sun. Sheer fabric covered her arms and her her chest, flowing down into an intrinsic pattern of swirls similar to that of hers and Rhys’ tattoos. It was skin tight down to her knees, the skirt billowing out below, covering her black heels. She looked exquisite. It was impossible for you to take your eyes off of her, and if you were able to look around, you would notice that it was the same for everyone else.

When she reached the altar, Rhys took her hands, helping her up the marble steps with tears lining his waterline. They lined yours, as well.

Gwyn stood behind the couple, hands clasped in front of her, a smile etched onto her face. Words flowed out of her lips, Feyre and Rhys repeating every syllable as salty water flowed freely down their cheeks until the final I do.

Rhys dipped his wife in a passionate kiss, oblivious to the ovation happening around them from their closest friends. When they rose, Feyre raised her bouquet in the air, pride hanging heavy around her, a glow emanating from her skin.

Everyone rose in unison as if in prayer.

“To the new Mrs. and Mr. Carynthian!” Mor called out next to you, her voice carrying through the garden. Voices echoed after her, singing reverants to the newlyweds. As she walked back down the aisle, hand in hand with Rhys, bouquet in hand, everyone cheered as they passed. They congregated behind them, tears flowing, applause echoing through the space as if it were an ancient cathedral. 

Feyre stopped before she entered the house. She turned towards everyone, a grin plastered on her lips, a wink highlighting her stormy eyes. She threw her bouquet high up in the air. Hands reached up toward the Mother, itching to be the one to catch the bundle of violets. 

They fell gingerly into your waiting palms as if there was some kind of divine interference. You blinked slowly, locking eyes with Feyre. They sparked with mischief before her and Rhys disappeared behind the French doors. 

Your heart pulled taut again as you fiddled with the black petals, their touch akin to a feather within your fingertips. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the shadow towering over you until a hand landed on your chin, tilting your head so your eyes met Azriel’s. 

“How was that for a ceremony?” He asked, breathless, eyes wide, pupils dilated. You swallowed, chest fluttering.

“It was beautiful.” Your voice came out within less than a whisper. He smiled, one only reserved for you, as he tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. His hand stayed there for a moment before pulling back, as if he were debating about running his fingers along the length of your cheek.

“You caught the bouquet, too.” You glanced down at the flowers in question, their fragrant smell filtering through your lungs every time you inhaled. 

“I did. I don’t know why the universe gave it to me though, I’m not even close to getting married.” The words fell out of your mouth haphazardly before you could stop them. Azriel chuckled, hands shoved into his pockets, tensing within the linen slacks.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” Heat rose from your neck to your cheeks. You hadn’t, honestly. The only person you could dream of marrying was him, yet you knew that was far fetched. Even with the energy buzzing around the two of you, the idea would fade within a week. It was just the presence of a wedding, you thought. Nothing would change. Azriel’s hazel eyes were intense, gazing directly into your soul for what seemed like eternity until Mor bumped your arm.

“Come on! We have to get ready for the reception.” You smiled at him as Mor dragged you away by the arm, your eyes never leaving his even as you disappeared behind the same doors that Feyre did. As you and your blonde friend climbed the same steps you had descended only an hour ago, the thought of marrying Azriel swirled through your mind like a tornado, wreaking havoc on any other thought that was there. Maybe it was possible. Maybe Azriel was interested in you. Only time would tell, and maybe, at the reception, the tension between the two of you would lift and reveal the secrets that were hidden beneath hardened hearts.

tags: @kayjaywrites

[corvusalbus93]

Thoughts & Feelings after the TBB Finale

Loved the show, but there are a couple of things I wish had been different/added. We still got damn good finale; pretty tense at times, action was great, Hemlock died (and Hunter and Crosshair got to do it together. Remember; sharing is caring), the way Rampart and Nala Se met their end, we even had a pretty happy ending for once, lots of good stuff.

However, I am disappointed Rex and his rebellion didn’t really play a part, despite being the reason Echo was gone for so much of the show and the screen time they got in season 2. They were also looking for Tantiss, determined to free their brother, so I’d been hoping Echo would manage to get a message out. Just imagine Rex with his boys showing up clutch, keeping troops occupied, evacuating the prisoners, giving the Batch the opening they need to get to Hemlock or something.

While I like how the show stayed focused on the Bad Batch, and didn’t drag in too many characters from other stories, this could have made Echo’s absence/working with Rex feel more vital. Maybe the Rex-storyline was dropped and they’re saving some of these plotlines for another Rex-centred show; those might also show when Wolffe switched sides or what happened to Cody, after he went AWOL.

Now, am I sad Tech is really dead? Yes and no.

While I am sick of every other character in Star Wars returning from the dead, part of me had hoped he’d survived somehow. As mentioned in previous posts, it felt like he died in the middle of his character arch (which his death certainly didn’t complete); Romar in the first episodes of season 2 gave him inside into the value of culture, and how people weren’t defined by what side they were on during the war. Phee added to this with her own love of history and culture...and then it didn’t go anywhere. They also teased the possibility of a romance with her, but it was ended with an awkward goodbye and we didn’t see her react to his death. She mentions him, but its business as usual for everyone at that point. Tech could have been on vacation the way everyone acted most of the time in season 3.

Seriously, the main reason I’m unsatisfied with his death is the lack of reaction and consequences in this season. Even in the episode he died in, it was kinda overshadowed by Omega’s abduction 5 minutes later. Not to mention that it ended with Emeri revealing she was her sister; you lost a science-inclined sibling with glasses? Well, don’t worry, here’s another. Bit overdramatic on my part, I know, but I really didn’t like that reveal, not at the time. Should have been in season 3.  Though honestly? Emeri didn’t need to be related to any of them; just have her be a not morally bankrupt person and the story wouldn’t have changed. She didn’t need to be related to the other kids to care about them, so what really was the point of her being another clone?

Going back to Tech, it’s a shame we didn’t see Crosshair or Phee react. Like, did Crosshair blame himself for what happened? I’m sure he did on some level, but we have not really seen it. Even in episode 5, when he argues with Hunter, Crosshair says he risked everything to send the message, but Hunter ignored him and allowed Omega to get abducted...but nothing about Tech’s death. They all just silently look down a few episodes later, when Tech is mentioned, and in the final episode Crosshair points out the team died with Tech. It’s something, but I wish there had been more. Maybe show different ways they deal with loss and how to support each other. Maybe Phee and/or Shep show them what funeral rites on Pabu are like, as a way to say goodbye to the departed. Compare how clones and civilians handle death, something like that. We had a little mourning in season 2, but again, was abruptly ended/undercut by Omega’s abduction.

Concerning consequences; the team operated pretty normally, once Crosshair was back with them. I think it would have added weight, if there had been more things they weren’t able to do at all without Tech. Really make his loss be felt/shown in the way they approach their missions, but there was only like one instance, when they were trying to find out about M-count and otherwise they operated pretty much as usual.

Now, even if Tech had survived there still should have been consequences. I have made posts like a year ago, talking about the possibility of him being permanently disabled (e.g. paralysed below hip/unable to walk), but still able to help the team, as his mind has always been his greatest asset. Still, I’m okay with him staying dead, so I’m not going expand on this further here.

Moving on, we never learned why Omega was created the way she was. We know why she was useful for Hemlock, but why did Nala Se made her to begin with? Did she have similar goals/did the Kaminioan have a similar project at some point? Was Emeri like a failed test-version of Omega? Just things I wish they had answered, rather than spending two episodes on finding out what M-count means, something the audience already knows.

Which brings me to my next point: why Ventress was in the show? The Batch found out what the M-count was, which honestly is a piece of information Shand could have given them at the end of her episode. Testing if Omega was force sensitive or the taming of that sea creature, didn’t set up anything in the finale as some suspected, so despite enjoying Ventress’ episode, I wish they’d used the time on other plot points. 

We also never did find out what exactly Project Necromancer tried to accomplish (though we got a good idea), or how close Hemlock was to achieving his breakthrough. Could have added tension, if we’d known how far along he truly was, added catharsis to see him fail so close to his goal.

Overall I’m not quite happy Omega got brought to Tantiss and escaped twice with minimal help (really undermining the place as a whole). Why did infiltrating Tarkin’s “summer home” feel more dangerous/consequential than the secret mountain-base they built up so much? I love we finally got a happy ending, but one named character on the good guys’ side should have died, not just nameless prisoners we only just met. This is where the clone rebellion could have come in, some sacrificing themselves, helping the Batch, or maybe have Phee (who felt underutilised) get shot down, after getting them to Tantiss.

If you’ve seen previous posts, you know I’m pretty mad about what they’ve done with Scorch overall. What happened in the final episode can be summed up like this:

He’s unrecognizable from the games and books, to the point I wonder why they even bothered to include him. He didn’t even really do anything. Was it just because he was recognizable? And where is the rest of Delta? We never got closure concerning Sev and now this, a waste of a pretty fun character.

Speaking of clones working for Hemlock.

While I don’t mind the CX-clones being no one special, they had no personality, and except for CX-2 perhaps, no rivalries with the Batch either. They didn’t even get voice lines, so they looked cool for 5 minutes of screen time and died, but were pretty forgettable overall. They are this far down on my list, ‘cause I legit forgot about them. If only they’d been introduced sooner.

Anyway, those are some of my thoughts. I still like the show and would recommend it to any Star Wars fan, but there were a few things I just needed to get off my chest.