#hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it!

[flightlessangelwings]

Our Souls Intertwined

sith!Obi Wan Kenobi x fem!jedi!reader

Word count- 4,580

Prompt- a lightsaber tilting up someone's chin

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), enemies to lovers, fighting, mutual pining, flirting, tension, fingering, piv sex, pet names (darling, love), praise, jedi!reader, reader is competent as a fighter and is a badass, no physical descrption of reader other than body parts, lightsaber color also never described, no use of y/n, open ending so you can decide for yourself what happens next

Notes- Written for Sith Obi Wan event @sithobiwanevent and oh boy did I have so much fun with this one!! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Please let me know what you think!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

^ gif credit linked above (thank you wonderful person for making that gif!!)

~

It was an epic battle. The whir of lightsabers filled the air. Red clashed with various colors as Lord Obi Wan Kenobi, feared and powerful sith lord, fought his way through the waves of jedi that came at him. A dark smirk graced his face as he sliced through some padawans, easily defeating the young opponents in front of him. Around him, his army fired from their blasters. It was chaos, and he thrived on it. The energy around him whirled, and he harnessed the power of the force to his advantage.

It was then that Kenobi saw you.

He brushed a lock of hair that had fallen on his face to watch you battle the enemy droids that surrounded you. He saw the strain in your jaw as you parried the blaster fire that came your way before you ran and stabbed those that shot at you. Kenobi was actually impressed by the way you handled yourself, and he actually had to take a breath to calm the thoughts that flooded his mind.

Swinging his red saber in a dramatic circle, Kenobi rushed over to you, calling your name as he got within range.

You whipped around, your own lightsaber at the ready as you braced yourself from the impact of Kenobi’s weapon.

“Hello there,” Kenobi smirked.

“Kenobi,” you strained as you countered his attack and parried with one of your own.

“Lovely to see you again, darling,” he quipped.

You just grunted as you volleyed your weapon. Ignoring the way Kenobi’s yellow eyes bore into you as if they were looking into your soul, you focused on the red of his blade. The two of you fought each other one on one, your blades crossing each other as if you were in a dance. The rest of the battle seemed to fade away and all that existed was each other.

“You’ve improved, darling,” Kenobi observed as he lunged at you with more force, electricity cackling as his saber crushed against yours.

“Don’t call me that, Kenobi,” you growled back, fighting both his physical assault and the way your heart secretly fluttered in your chest whenever he called you any term of endearment. The smoothness of his voice always went right to your core, as much as you tried to push it away. 

It only took that one fraction of a second for Kenobi to gain the advantage. Just the slight loosening of your lightsaber was all it took for him to knock it out of your hand and use the force to push you onto the ground. You spat a curse under your breath as you tried to channel the force to pull your saber back into your hand, but Kenobi’s boot caught it before it slid close enough for you to grasp it.

“Shit,” you muttered as you scrambled to your knees.

Before you could rise completely, red filled your vision. The hum of Kenobi’s lightsaber rang in your ears as you suddenly found yourself paralyzed. Sweat lined your brow as he used the tip of his saber to gently force your vision up to meet his gaze. He was careful, though, careful not to actually touch the blade to your skin and hurt you. Instead, Kenobi used the force to angle your head up.

In one hand, Kenobi held his lightsaber and the other he held up with two fingers as he controlled the force around the two of you. His eyes matched the red of his blade as his gaze pierced into you.

Helpless, you swallowed hard, “If you’re going to kill me, Kenobi,” you tried to sound strong, though you were sure your voice was strained, “Just get it over with. Don’t toy with me like this.”

“Why would I kill you, darling?” he purred, clearly enjoying having you helpless on your knees before him.

The question caught you off guard.

“Why not join me?” he asked in a smooth tone, “I could help you hone your skills. You could fight at my side instead of against me.”

You inhaled sharply, “You asked me that before, Kenobi,” you steadied your breath as you focused your feelings and reigned in your emotions, “And my answer is still no.”

He smiled darkly, “Still as stubborn as ever I see,” he actually sounded impressed, “But I see there is no changing your mind yet, love.” Kenobi released you and retracted his lightsaber. 

With a gasp, you fell forward and your face smashed into the ground. Quickly, you scrambled to your hands and knees only to find Kenobi had put some distance between the two of you.

“Until next time, darling,” he gave you a quick wave of his fingers before he disappeared into a dust cloud.

You were left alone and astonished. Why hadn’t he killed you? Why did he leave you alive? Again? Swallowing hard, you ignored the way your heart pounded in your chest as you grabbed your lightsaber and ran back to help the other jedi.

*

It wasn’t long before you met Kenobi again on the battlefield. Lightsabers clashed as you fought him on the desolate planet. You weren’t even sure which planet you were on, only that it was barren and filled mostly with sand and boulders and caves. Lightsabers and blasters clashed in the dunes and rocks of the desolate planet. 

“You get better every time I see you, darling,” Kenobi smirked, “If you were to join me, I could make you even greater.”

“Keep dreaming, Kenobi,” you countered back. 

“Oh I do see you in my dreams, darling,” he grinned, enjoying how his words threw you off for a moment.

The two of you battled each other, moving away from the rest of the battlefield and the others without realizing it. You grunted as you tried to focus your energy into finally beating him, but the way his yellow eyes stared into your soul distracted you. And all it took was a moment, just one flash of an instant, for you to lose your edge.

One misstep and you tumbled down the rocky ridge that hosted your duel with the sith lord. But, before you hit the ground, you found yourself suspended in the air. Looking up, you saw Kenobi rush toward you, shouting your name. In a fit of frustration, you channeled the force and pushed that energy towards him, attempting to knock him off balance.

It did, and Kenobi fell back. However, the rush of force energy also hit a large pile of large rocks and boulders. The ground rumbled beneath your body and you knew this was greater trouble than the sith in front of you. In an instant, your goal changed from beating Kenobi to getting out of the rockslide alive. 

Looking behind him, he noticed the danger too and he bolted toward you and pulled you off the ground, “Run!” Kenobi yelled as he grabbed your hand.

The rockslide felt like it was caving in around you as you ran, your hand in his. Kenobi led you towards a cave, an opening that seemed to be your only way of escaping the cascading boulders around you both. As the dust clouded your vision and the crashing of the rocks around you made it hard to hear, you had no choice but to put your trust in him.

Kenobi got you both into the cave with just a fraction of a second to spare. Both of you crashed to the ground as the boulders piled up at the entrance, blocking you in. You let out a heavy exhale as the dust settled, and the only beams of light that lit up the small cave came from higher up.

The cave was shallow, and you could see the end of it. That meant there was no way out except for how you came in. And how you came in was currently blocked with dozens of large boulders. The beams of light came from small openings between the rocks, but they weren’t big enough to crawl through. Inside the cave, there were only the two of you, along with rocks scattered throughout the floor.

“Are you alright?” Kenobi asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” you replied immediately as you tried to stand. However, when you tried to move your arm, you hissed in pain, “Shit…” you grabbed your shoulder and felt blood soak your hand.

“No you’re not,” Kenobi rushed to you, inspecting your wound and swallowing the fear that threatened to bubble over in his mind.

“I’ll be ok,” you tried to ignore his worry over you, “It’s not that bad.”

He pursed his lips as he looked at your shoulder then back to where the boulders piled high, trapping you in together, “It’s too high to climb,” he observed, “And it’ll take both of us to move all the boulders,” Kenobi turned back to you, “Which you can’t do with that injury,” he reached for your shoulder again, “Let me.” His heart fluttered in his chest as he saw the blood seep from your shoulder, and he hated the sinking feeling he had when he saw you hurt.

Before you could protest, Kenobi covered your injury with his hand and let out a long slow breath. Mouth opened in shock, you felt warmth on your injury and you felt the energy of the force flow from him into you. You watched him for a moment before you closed your eyes and surrendered yourself, feeling the force flow between your bodies as if it cradled and protected you both. Warmth embraced you as you felt rejuvenated from what Kenobi was doing.

With a gasp, Kenobi broke away from you as his eyes shot open. He backed away as he hunched forward, weak from the energy he expended. You let out a gasp of your own as you watched him crawl to a rock to steady himself before he lifted his body to sit.

“How were you able to do that?” you asked in shock as you cradled your now uninjured shoulder.

Kenobi just looked at you, “Well I wasn’t always a sith, darling,” he gave you a genuine soft smile.

The question came out before you could stop it, “What happened?”

His smile turned mischievous, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes.

Changing the subject with a heavy sigh, Kenobi said, “It looks like we’ll be here for a while. I need to recover my strength if we are to move those boulders,” he looked around, “Might as well get comfortable.”

Your body remained stiff as you stayed on high alert. Your saber was at your side, yet you made sure your hand was never far from it. The muscles in your jaw clenched harder as you watched Kenobi visibly relax on a rock, leaning back and resting his leg in front of him.

“I’m not going to attack you,” he said in a calm tone after feeling your heavy gaze on him for several long moments.

“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, guard still up but chipped away just the slightest. 

Kenobi smirked as he stood, “What would you like me to do, darling?” he purred as he took a step towards you.

You took a step back, keeping the distance between you. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way you felt the force move around you whenever he was near, and especially when it was now just the two of you trapped and alone. And you were sure he felt it too.

“I…” 

The two of you kept up this dance, Kenobi stepping forward and you stepping back until you hit a wall. His body was relaxed; he wasn’t hunting you. Instead, it was as if he was approaching you at a bar, friendly almost. Your heart pounded in your chest, yet it wasn’t from fear.

“I have something in mind,” his tone was low yet soft as he stepped into your space.

You swallowed hard as you pressed your back against the wall, feeling him against you. Kenobi placed a hand on one side of your head as his gaze bore into your soul.

“And I think you have the same thought as I do,” he continued as he leaned into you.

“How do you know?” you tried to sound tough, but you didn’t even fool yourself. You dropped your gaze to the ground, avoiding his eyes.

Kenobi let out an amused huff as he took two fingers and gently guided your face to look back up and meet his eyes. It was a similar feeling from last time when you met him on the battlefield and he used his saber to force you to look at him. Both times, you should have felt threatened, in danger. And yet, you didn’t. Not then, and certainly not now. No, it was a different feeling that pulsed through your veins.

“Because,” he said in almost a whisper, “You aren’t pushing me away.”

Your mouth dropped open as you realized that he was not trapping you at all. The only contact he made was his fingers on your chin, which you could have easily brushed off. Kenobi hovered close to you, yet he gave you a clear path out if you chose to take it. Yet, you didn’t. You chose to stay there, in his gaze.

“Why don’t you just take what you want from me?” you asked.

“Darling,” he sounded almost offended, “I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you,” he sighed, “I want you on your own volition.”

“Obi Wan…” you breathed his name… his first name you realized. 

His yellow eyes went wide as his jaw clenched, “No one has called me that in… A long time,” he sighed, “It sounds lovely in your voice.”

You let out a deep breath as you felt his breath on your lips.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he murmured, “And say my name again.” It wasn’t a command, but a request. It was his way of giving you one last out should you choose.

Your eyes darted from his yellow ones down to his lips and you swallowed hard, “Kiss me… Obi Wan.”

The moment the words left your lips he crashed his into yours. Your moan was muffled from the kiss, but you instantly melted into it, grasping at his black robes as you parted your lips for him. Obi Wan took the invitation eagerly and slipped his tongue past your lips, tasting you, savoring you. He groaned into you as he finally touched you, one hand grabbing your hip while the other cradled your jaw. 

In your studies as a jedi, you trained to feel the force around you and how to harness it. You had an exceptional understanding of it, and learned to control it much faster than your classmates. As a knight, your power only grew. But, it wasn’t until you kissed the sith lord Obi Wan Kenobi that you fully understood the true feeling of the force wrapping itself around you and how it bound two souls together. You had never felt anything like this in your life before. And from the way he groaned into you, you were sure he felt the same way.

“You taste divine, lovely,” he purred against your lips before he kissed you again, his beard ticking your face as he devoured you.

“Obi Wan…” you whispered as you broke the kiss for a breath of air. You tilted your head to the side as he kissed his way along your jaw and down your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he hit more sensitive spots, “Touch me. Please,” you pleaded.

“It would be my pleasure, darling,” he groaned as his hands roamed across your chest.

His hands slipped under your jedi robes and cupped your breasts. He let out a satisfied growl when you mewled in pleasure under his touch, and he could help the way he kneaded and caressed your soft mounds. Kenobi felt a jolt within him when he pinched your nipples and made you cry out louder.

He hummed as his hands made their way down your body, his eyes never moving from your face the entire time. Kenobi didn’t want to miss a single expression as he worshiped you with his hands. He paused for a moment when his fingers reached the top of your pants, but when you didn’t protest or push him away, he dipped a hand underneath the fabric.

Both of you gasped as Obi Wan’s hand cupped your pussy. While your eyes fluttered shut and you arched your back against the wall, his stayed open, watching you with great interest. Your mouth dropped open as he carefully pushed two fingers into you.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you grasped at his shoulders for balance.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. Obi Wan couldn’t tear his eyes away from you even if he wanted to. Every little expression you made, every little sound of pleasure that escaped your lips, even how your pussy felt around him… you were everything to him.

“Obi Wan…” you whined as your mind swam in the bliss his fingers gave you. 

Oh how he loved it when you said his name. Obi Wan’s eyes burned with passion as he growled and thrust his fingers into you harder. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you. As he buried his fingers deep inside you, Obi Wan rutted against your body, covering you with himself as heat rose between you.

“Please… I’m close…” you moaned as you felt dizzy. You tightened your grip on him, knowing he would be there to hold you and keep you steady.

“Show me how beautiful you are when you cum, darling,” he groaned as he picked up his pace with his fingers.

It only took a few more deep thrusts for you to come undone. Your body trembled in his grip as you came hard with a loud scream of his name. Tears filled your eyes as you felt overwhelmed between the emotions that pulsed through your body as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers. And just as you felt breathless, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time.

You whimpered as Obi Wan slowly pulled his fingers out of you and your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths. When he broke away, you finally looked into his eyes and saw the fire that burned behind them. “Fuck me, Obi Wan.”

He smiled at you as he grabbed you and spun you around. In a flash, you found yourself on your back, his cape underneath you as he quickly yanked and tugged at both your clothing. Depreciation took over both of you as you worked to quickly strip each other until you are both completely bare.

“Wow,” you breathed as you stared at him.

“Exquisite,” he moaned as he lunged forward and kissed you once more, his hips rutting against the fold of your pussy as he started to lose control of himself.

Obi Wan lost even more control as he pushed the tip of his cock into you. Both of you gasped and cried out as you felt him slowly enter you. You clawed at his back as more of his cock stretched you out inch by inch. And Obi Wan growled as your warmth engulfed him, driving him wild.

“Obi Wan…” you whined.

“I know, darling,” he muttered as he rocked back and thrust forward. 

A string of curses escaped both your lips as he rocked in and out of you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with precision every single time. You screamed as your vision blurred and you dug your nails more into his back. But it only spurred him on more, thrusting harder and faster into you as he became more and more desperate.

Screams and groans echoed in the cave and skin slapped against skin. Obi Wan would have wanted this to last longer, but you were too beautiful, too enticing, too perfect. Sweat lined his brow as locks of hair stuck to his forehead as he thrust into you with abandon. 

“Cum for me, darling,” he growled as he felt his own climax build, “Cum with me.”

“Fuck!” you cried out as your breasts swung back and forth with every thrust of his hips.

With a scream, your second orgasm hit you like a bantha and your legs trembled on either side of his body as he continued to pound into you. Obi Wan growled your name as your orgasm triggered his and he came deep into you, grunting and moaning as he spilled himself inside your body.

Obi Wan kept going as long as he could, rocking into your wet pussy hard enough to feel the splash of your release soak your bodies. But, as he rode out both your climaxes, neither of you had anything left to give and he pulled out of you after one final thrust. 

You gasped as you felt the sudden emptiness and your eyes shot open to watch him hover over you with an inferno in his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you stared back at him and suddenly you were keenly aware of how naked you still were. Heavy breaths echoed around you as you both lost yourselves in each other.

Sensing your shift, Obi Wan took a deep breath and composed himself. He leaned over and gathered your jedi robes and handed them to you, “Here,” he said before he turned his back to you to give you some privacy.

Neither of you were sure why he did that, after he just fucked you. but you welcomed it either way. Both of you were silent as you redressed. Your heart still beat wildly in your chest as you felt the ghost of his touch on your skin and you replayed what just happened in your head.

“Anger. Fear. Loss,” Obi Wan broke the silence after he slipped on his pants and robe, leaving it open to bare his chest to you still.

“What?” Your voice was just a whisper as you spun around to face him.

“How I turned to the dark side,” Obi Wan said in a soft voice, one that you guessed he hadn’t used in some time, “There was someone… very dear to me. Someone that I loved with everything I had. Someone…” he took in a shaky breath as he ran his hands through his hair, “I couldn’t save… No matter how hard I tried.”

You watched with wide eyes as he bared his soul to you with his confession. You guessed the way his story ended without him having to say it out loud. You both knew the path to the dark side, and how his loss led to his fall. You crossed the space to stand face to face with him as you placed a hand on his chest.

“I swore then that I would never care for anyone like that again,” Obi Wan turned away from you, breaking the contact he craved so deeply, “And I hadn’t since…” he turned back to meet your gaze, “Until now.”

A gasp escaped your lips, “Obi Wan…?”

He gave you a sad smile, one that you couldn’t decipher its meaning. Before you could say anything else, though, he turned to the wall of boulders, “I think we can move it now,” he said as he tightened his robe around him.

You followed his gaze with your own and nodded, “Ok.” The disappointment in your tone was clear. 

“Concentrate all your energy,” he told you, “You hold them steady, I will push them out of our way. When you see an opening, you run. Understand?”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell him to run with you, to stay at your side. But the seriousness in his expression told you it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. “Got it.”

Both of you raised your arms, channeling the force toward the boulders. You grunted as you kept the large rocks steady while Obi Wan worked on moving them out of the way. He started with the smaller ones at the top, but when he got to the middle, it all started to collapse.

“Steady!” he shouted.

You gritted your teeth as you strained to keep the bigger ones steady. Dust started to fill the air as everything moved. When Obi Wan got to the center, he called your name, “Run! Now! Go!”

Doing as you were told, you bolted forward into the dust. You tried to keep the rocks steady as you ran, but the more you exerted yourself, the harder it got. The ground rumbled as the boulders tumbled out of the way, creating dust clouds so thick that you couldn’t see through.

Once you were out and clear from the rocks, you turned around and screamed, “Obi Wan!” You streamed to look for him through the dust, but for several moments, you couldn't. You reached through the force, pushing the rocks out of the way to search for him.

Just when you were about to lose hope, you saw his silhouette in the dust, “Obi Wan,” you sighed in relief as you ran to him. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, embracing him hard, “You’re ok.”

He smiled at you as he held you close, just as relieved as you were, “I’m alright, darning.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a moment you saw no sign of the sith yellow that usually illuminated them. In front of you now wasn’t a sith lord or empire general, but just a man. As you held each other, you felt the sense that there was much left unspoken, but the sound of an engine in the distance forced those thoughts to remain unsaid.

“It’s a rebel transport,” he said, “They must have seen the dust cloud from our escape. They’ll pick you up, and you’ll be safe.”

“But what about you?” you turned back to face him.

Obi Wan smiled at you as he cupped the side of your face, “I’ll be alright, darling, don’t you worry.” He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to kiss you again, but he decided not to, “Now go,” he nudged you forward as he retreated back.

You turned toward the incoming ship, waving your hands so that they spotted you. As it hovered closer, blowing your robes up into the wind, you spoke to him with your back still turned, “Obi Wan, come with…” you turned around to find him gone, “Me.” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment as the ship landed and the clones called your name.

“You’re alright! We were looking for you,” they said as they ushered you onto the ship.

From the shadows in the distance, Obi Wan Kenobi watched as you got on board and were flown away to safety. He sensed the thought in your mind, and he fled before you could ask it. He knew he would not have the strength to deny your request had he heard you speak it. Blowing a kiss into the air, he whispered, “Until we meet again, my love,” before he turned and went the opposite direction. 

Be safe, he released his thought across the planes to you. 

[theondnonly]

it's only been 3-4 days and I still am in a break but holy moly bro, the Zerum with Sebastian situation is mad crazy.

usually I avoid drama in fandom, but I think I should give a piece of opinion this time. Why are y'all so mad that Sebastian is canonly married? Or is that even what y'all are mad with at this point? I get it, Zerum made a lot of "irritated" choices, but Sebastian is still rightfully HERS and still is HER character, if she wants him to be taken, then so be it, the fact that she have to deal with many hate and d3@th thr3@t over wanting HER character to be taken/not single,it is insane.

I do not want to sugarcoated or take sides either, what she did is unprofessional and immature, but I still don't think she deserves to be treated so badly by the fandom. "But Zerum doesn't want us to self-ship with her character!!!! She doesn't want us to have fun!!!" Last time I checked, Zerum doesn't want to have selfship IN THE DISCORD SERVER, and if you're on the server, follow the rules or just simply leave? You can still post it freely on any platform (take this as a grain of salt tho since my memory isn't the best, feel free to tell me if I'm talking stupid)

and who cares if he's married, bro y'all can literally make an AU where he is still single and a silly fish guy who sells items for the expandable like I did, it's not that difficult, use your brain come on. I see people make AUs, change a character's design/personality, and ship them with someone from a different fandom, nobody will bait an eyes

last thing, I'm sick and tired of people seeing one small misinformation about Zerum, and immediately agree on it just to hate on her, friendly reminder she's still human, she has feelings too, and maybe a lot of irl problem, can we please be a decent human and leave her alone? She is gatekeeping HER character, not murdering someone.

I do not agree with Zerum's choices, but I still wish her the best after everything, she doesn't deserve to be ridiculed imo, I know this isn't gonna change much, but a tiny voice is better than being silent forever.

I apologize if this is a long rant/post and the wording is hard to read btw, I'm not good with writing or make a lot of sense out of it, but I hope you get what I'm trying to say

TLDR : Zerum's action is immature, sure, but the way the fandom treats her over a fictional character is stupid.

[nadianova]

im sorry if anyones asked this before but! what's your process for planning out your vns? it might be too open-ended a question but playing malmaid its clear that you have a lot of skill and really have the medium nailed, so like... what does your workflow look like? how do you piece together whatever beginning idea fragments you have into something so coherent and well put together as this? what kinds of things do you prioritize? have you written about your process before?

i should tag my shit better i had to scroll forever to find these

but uhhhhhh i think. i seriously think the biggest misconception is that i somehow know what I'm doing like consistently the moments that people like in my games are moments i wsnt even thinking about and instead i put my effort into some entirely dismissed location.

i dont know what im doing but if i am to point at a skill my skill is the fact that i can in fact complete games and that gives people an opportunity to enjoy them

if you go read my first vns you'll notice they are not malmaid but after having made so many its just helped me build a repertoire of scripting abilities and knowledge on how to express myself in a visual novel format.. ultimately i am kinda writing the same thing over and over again in my vns cause that's just what i like to do

so its just trial and error really while having fun with the process

but yeah theres two other links wheere itry to go in the details but everything is so vague and shifting i might be doing something entirely different for my next game I'm already learning that i HATE planning so much as I've done for NAOMIDA and i have way more fun just winging it like i did with hopeless junction and dddeviance

my notes are actually insane like

lmao

look at these are my current notes and starting baseline for my lina side story in my game

like srly i just throw shit in be it memes or tweets or snippets of my own thoughts i wrote half asleep at 4 am and then figure out the details later and when i feel like my story is clear enough in my brain from shit like this i just start writing it hopping from scene to scene usually writing the fun scenes first and then suffering when i gotta string everything together

[grimm-the-tiger]

If you're into SatW still, what are your headcanons on any character? If at all?

I'll do you one better and give you several!

Iceland and Norway are not full brothers. Iceland's mother is Sister Ireland, who booked it as soon as her kids were born, and he was raised by Norway because their father refused to take responsibility.

Iceland is buddy-buddies with the entire bureaucracy of Hell.

The cat demons' meows sound like old laugh tracks.

Wales and New Zealand's kid can switch between human and sheep forms at will.

Sister Japan can kick ass if she really wants to.

No one knows where Sweden came from. As far as anyone's concerned, he appeared out of the blue one day. He's probably related to the other Nordics somehow, but no one knows how. He's like that cousin who pops up out of nowhere at family reunions and keeps changing his story about how he's related to you.

Sweden is absolutely terrified of Scania turning out like Denmark. It's bad enough he already has to deal with Denmark and Christiania, he doesn't need to deal with a third one who also lives in his house.

Iceland didn't kill his children. He just has a really sick sense of humor and likes using their ashes to terrorize the kids he babysits.

Norway, Sister Norway, and Svalbard are triplets. (This one might be canon, idk.) There was a fourth sibling once. No one knows what happened to her.

Christiania is Denmark's kid with Sister Netherlands.

Norway likes to sew. This one's probably also canon.

[teethkid67]

PAYDAY

aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!

this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it

happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!

[rosielav]

Do you like fun?? Do you like whimsy??? How about mice???

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16 Mice Make Soup (AKA MouSoup) is the culmination of two decades of watching cooking shows and wishing they weren't always so mean to each other. In this collaborative competition, you and your fellow MouChefs work together to create unique and unforgettable dishes using their customized Special Ingredient, but don't forget, at least one round MUST feature soup!!

I'm currently sitting at 247 + 189 sales respectively, and would absolutely love to hit 250 + 200 this month!! Since it is free+, I don't expect to make much/any $$, I just would love to share my silly little mouse games with as many people as possible 🐁

Thank you for your time! Keep Calm and Mouse On!!

[littlemissmanga]

for the spicy prompts has anyone asked for #10 with Jesse 👀

Send me one of the following for a 200 word clone drabble

No. 10 is “Just lay back and let me take care of you.” OH-HO no one has and now it is officially whore o'clock!

Look I can't say WHY I get like this when it comes to Jesse, and honestly I don't think you want me to repent for the many sins that ran through my head while writing this.

He just does something to me.

Though I am proud to say I actually was able to keep this one close to the 200 word count. Though it be short, it packs a mighty punch.

Enjoy!

Pairing: Jesse x f!Reader

W/C: 269 (no I didn't plan that, yes I love it and so would Jesse)

Warning: NSFW, very spicy, Juicy Jesse got loose and made me a whore, oral (f receiving)

He had barely touched you and you were already making the sweetest noises for him. You were frantic in your movements, hands barely able to stay on one part of him too long now that he lay bare against you, finally in your arms again after another too-long campaign.

You arched against him, hips rubbing deliciously against his and causing him to curse, his already firm grip on your hips tightening.

“Careful, gorgeous. Keep that up and this will be a lot quicker than either of us want,” he warned. A needy whine broke past your lips as you strained against his grip, your hands sliding down to push against his lower back.

“Jesse… please.”

You looked up at him with those large eyes that could swallow a planet. By the Maker, he loved seeing you like this, so desperate for him, begging for him. Needing him and only him to make you feel good.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he cooed, pressing a soothing kiss to your lips before trailing his own down your neck. He quickly replaced his mouth with his hand, letting the gentle pressure ground you as his lips continued down, tracing the curves of your body to the apex of your thighs.  

“Just lay back and let me take care of you,” he ordered, not giving you a chance to resist before swiping his tongue through your folds, groaning at your taste on his tongue. He was going to take his time breaking you apart so that when he was ready to fuck you, you’d be too pleasure drunk to do anything but hold on tight.

[mieiri]

i never want to art again (will die and rot in agony and despair if i don’t create anything at all)

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

i wish there was a space for actual adults within this fandom. i guess i will have to create it, even if it's just me and other five people and a shoelace. i wonder how this whole thing is gonna develop!

[keylovesstuff]

It's Coronation Day!!!! Whoo!!

Hi everyone!!! my motivation and energy have finally aligned to get this done and I cannot be happier.

Little Events: Chapter 3- The Coronation

AO3

FFN

Note: There is a line in here that implies underage drinking nothing too detailed I promise but just in case wanna give you a heads up.

What does being an effective ruler mean to you? 

Peach had been thinking about this question for the last couple of days after Toadsworth proposed that she write a speech to share with the community that raised her. Everyone on the main council who had direct involvement in her physical and diplomatic training for years now, had complete confidence that she was ready. There were a handful of toads who thought otherwise and voiced their criticisms aloud.

What does she know about life and how the world works to make the best decision for their lives?

That question was the most frequent one she's heard from the people and even now with a few days to go, she still doesn't have an answer. Toadsworth had offered to help her out with the letter but she had declined for several reasons. For as much as she valued his insight, he already had his plate full with preparing for the ceremony and he was already stressing every little detail to make it all perfect. If anything, having him fret over something that should really be in her words from start to finish would frustrate them both for wanting it worded a certain way. For the most part thankfully she didn't have to worry about that with her current companion dozing off in the sunlight.

"Think any harder Peaches and your brain just might pop out" Bowser chuckled without opening his eyes.

"Excuse me but we all can't just pop out miraculous speeches that move a crowd within hours" she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out to the back of his shell. Adjusting the quill in her hand, Peach refocused her attention to the same four words that's been on the paper for the past hour and a half. 

Everything that came to mind no matter how she chose to word it didn't feel right. Should she just list her promises and present it to her people that way? She shook her head at the thought...that would be something a small child would do not someone turning sixteen. Bullet points are all fine but, elaborating those statements would definitely be expected.

"What a shame more people don't have my charismatic personality." Bowser finally opened his eyes, turning his head to face Peach who was once again pulled out of her train of thoughts by his words. "Oh  give me more credit, I can come up with something on the spot. Didn't even need a quill and paper for a brainstorm with my first speech" he added with a smirk.

"No way" Peach gasped aloud, setting her materials on the grass beside her. "You're telling me you didn't write anything beforehand or even rehearsed it several times in front of a mirror. That speech you gave when they crowned you King was way too good" she leaned towards him with each question.

"That's exactly what I'm saying and by the looks of what you have right now..." with a glance at the paper "Maybe you should give it a shot" he added as she snatched the sheet back up.

"Giving a speech with some sort or organization is one thing. Giving a speech without any preparation is another" Peach told him while looking thoughtfully at the paper. "I think if I write something down it would give me the confidence I need to face them" she finished and heard him scoff.

"It's that uncertainty there that makes your people think you're not ready to rule. If you can't even write a simple paper given days in advance what are you going to do if you're put on the spot?" He asked her seriously while examining his claws.

Peach froze as she considered his words and thought back on her interactions with people from the past week. Perhaps she could have been more confident in both her body language and word choice. Instead of inching away and shyly assuring the toads that she's ready to take on whatever challenges may come…she should have stood tall, looked them in their beady eyes, and even if it was fake confidence in that moment, they surely would have more faith in her now. A couple more quiet minutes passed of her thinking before she concluded that it would be another day of completing nothing. She folded the paper into sixths, put the quill in the pocket of her pants, placed the lid on her ink, and rolled her eyes.

"You're kind of sounding like Toadsworth, can we change the conversation?" Peach asked, crossing her legs and setting her hands in between them.

"Ugh don't compare a King as superior as myself to that old fool you call an advisor"  Bowser scrunched up his face following her lead and sitting up as well. "I'll have you banished from the darklands, the next time you say something like that" he added tone free of any amusement.

Peaches' stare matched the seriousness of his last statement that told him 'Toadsworth is far from a fool' and that he should take that back. Bowser backed down for the time being.

"Fine then don't compare how I'd say something to how your advisor would say it. I'm completely serious about that last part though." He finished.

"Joke's on you, Toadsworth would love to hear that I'm no longer allowed to step foot in your homeland" Peach giggled at the thought of The mustached toad smiling for miles if she were to tell him after four years of knowing each other that he told her to never come back again.

Toadsworth and Bowser got along well together most of the time. After all, Bowser gave him and the rest of the council decent advice on what a Kingdom being built from the ground up needed from firsthand experience. The Koopa also kept true to his word when it came to discovering unknown parts of their land for resources. Throughout the years they found a variety of consumable mushroom power ups. These served to greatly improve the toads productivity as they found the red ones greatly raised their size and strength. Yellow-orange mushrooms with red spots worked similarly to the red ones but grew its user to gigantic proportions which proved useful for taller buildings, her castle being the most recently completed project. There was a one person limit on the use of those to prevent any accidental crushings.

They found that blue mushrooms would miniaturize the user and even now, the toads weren't really sure how they felt about it. Already being three feet tall they didn't really like being that much smaller  and couldn't think of other tasks it could be useful for at this point. Then there was a Green that no one was sure of its functionality. After a couple attempts of consuming the mushroom with no effects, they decided it would be best to save what they found to study more thoroughly since they were such a rare find in the first place.That's where the positive interactions between the two ended.

Most disagreements between the Koopa King and Older Toad came from their approaches to Peach's leadership teachings. When it came to her obstacle courses, where Toadsworth opted for cardboard cutouts, Bowser commanded the minions of his army to take the places and dare them to hold back. The introduction of power ups brought on more problems as they went back and forth on whether she should or shouldn't be allowed to use them for certain exercises. Toadsworth would often tell Bowser off to his face about how sick he was for the look of pleasure in his eyes as she managed to barely avoid getting her head chopped off by a piranha plant or losing a power up after a small misstep. Majority of the time Bowser laughed in his face and told him to suck it up cause in a life or death scenario she may and may not make it as he told Peach to run the course again but in her heels.

Bowser's conceited attitude rubbed Toadsworth the wrong way and he always told Peach to not let the way he talks have any influence on her as if she didn't have her own mind. The whole month they've been going back and forth on every little detail for this coronation and other things that could probably be discussed at a later time if she was honest. 

Should the event start sometime in the late morning and run all the way into the afternoon? Or do they allow it to be an all night affair running into the next day?

The earlier it starts the better for everyone to be able to join and there are way more fun activities to do during the day. Versus Bowser's idea of celebrating all night rocking out and possibly indulging in beverages not fit for young toads.

They were not recreating his crowning as King where he had to take the trip to the darklands himself to escort the princess in training back home, catching taking a few sips of whatever was in that cup was Toadsworth's only response. 

They ended up settling for Peach's suggestion of starting around two in the afternoon and lasting into nine at night with the plus of shooting fireworks.

Fast loud rock music to keep everyone from the snooze fest that would come from soft soothing instrumental music that Toadsworth pitched.

Peach just suggested a mix of both cause everyone likes a variety of everything right? She knows she does even if her preference leaned more towards the instrumental playlist she grew up with, she's come around to the music in the Darklands.

They should do the allegiance signing at the... End of her speech it makes sense that way. Her main color should be...Pink. It's been her favorite for as long as she could remember. When can they start visiting and introducing her to other kingdoms...When everyone has free time to go together.

Fingers snapping in front of her face pulled her out of her thoughts. Shaking her head and looking up at him, she realized he was asking her a question. She hummed to let him know she was listening.

"Finally I swear you space out the most. Your King was asking what you wanted for your Birthday?" He repeated.

Rolling her eyes, she chose to ignore the first part of what he said. With all the preparations and struggling to write as of late, it was hard to remember that they chose to hold the coronation on her Birthday. Since she just appeared out of a pipe to them one day and she was too young to have any recollection herself, The toads just chose the day she came as the day they would celebrate her birth. Toadsworth chose this day as well to symbolize just how far she's come from being a tiny lost girl depending on them to this young woman who's fully capable of doing anything. Peach understood the sentimental meaning behind it all, even if she would go as far from saying she was capable. As the years have passed, even if they don't exactly see eye to eye on everything, her advisor would always be her number one fan and she would always appreciate the faith he has in her.

"I'm not sure" she told him honestly and then thought of a good idea with a gasp "how about you play something on your piano? You know that one melody you've been working on for awhile? It's so nice and I'm curious to see if you've gotten around to adding any lyrics to it" she gazed off in the distance.

"No" He simply answered as she whined out a 'c'mon' followed by a 'please' "as much as I would like to hear you beg. It's far from finished and the words haven't come to me yet." He finished.

"You asked me what I wanted and that's what I would like." She pouted. "So much for 'Mr.Words Come To Me In Seconds'" she mocked her hands mimicking air quotes.

"For that comment, now you don't get to choose. I'll get you whatever I want" he smiled proudly at her crossing her arms accompanied by her brows furrowing in anger with a 'whatever' in response. " back to the Birthday two questions. Will there be cake? If yes. Are you making it?" 

"Of course there's going to be cake and you know the answer to the secondary question. I rarely bake anything anymore." She answered and again reminisced about a hobby she was likely rusty at now.

Growing up she enjoyed watching Toadsworth and other adults prepare meals and as soon as she was tall enough to reach the countertop, Peach would be right next to them offering to add or mix ingredients together. It took awhile for Toadsworth especially but eventually, she was allowed to prepare full meals with little supervision and assistance. One year someone gave her a cookbook of recipes they wrote themselves and she immediately fell in love with the sweet treats. Once she got the hang of dishes, she grew confident to add her own twists on them. When everyone started getting serious about her training, being in the kitchen was one of the last places they let her go. It was in the early days of their friendship that she made cake one day and Bowser impatiently ate the entire thing and demanded she make another one.

"What a shame" was his only comment to that as he stood up and Peach followed his lead. "Anyway since you don't need my help with writing anymore I'm going to go and handle more important stuff. I'll see you in a few days.  Make sure there's some good stuff at that buffet table " He started in the direction of the pipe home.

"Ok I'll try. See you soon" Peach waved him off and once he was a good distance away she headed back towards the castle.

When Peach returned, she took note that Toadsworth wasn't in his office as the door was shut and locked. That was a good thing for now she supposed as she wasn't ready to have him question her about the speech. In fact maybe with the third and final change in atmosphere, she would finally string together the right words. She chose to go to her bedroom as a nice outfit change and fresh shower would probably rejuvenate her. On the way, she ran into one of the cooks, who offered to make and bring her a midday snack which she declined in favor of saving her appetite for dinner. 

Blow drying her hair halfway, she opted to let the rest of it air dry as she headed over to her dresser drawer. Peach pulled on a red pair of pajama pants and a plain pink tank top before slipping on her favorite fluffy light pink robe and some black bedroom slippers. By the window, sat her long white desk with a few dried up ink spots. There sat the paper from earlier which still had visible creases and the same four words that continued to taunt her. Ready to get started she sat down, pulled herself up to the desk, and grabbed her quill. The tip touched the next blank spot under the words and that's all she remembered before her mind went blank.

Peach kneeled before Toadsworth as he had asked her too. The audience had grown silent enough where you could hear a coin drop. Her heart was beating so fast she felt as if it would pop out of her chest at any minute. She kept her eyes on the ground and waited for her next order. The crown was placed atop of her head with only the slighted adjustments. With that she asked to stand and once more she was met with the hundreds of eyes on her.

"I give you the first...Princess Peach Toadstool. May she live a long healthy life and lead this Kingdom to many great things." Toadsworth finished and the crowd erupted in loud cheers and applause.

"All Hail Princess Peach" A lone toad somewhere amongst the others shouted. This coaxed others to join in as they repeated the phrase over and over again.

The echo grew fainter as the sound of knocking pulled her out of her dream that felt so real. Peach blinked her eyes several times as she refocused on her surroundings, glancing in the direction of her name being called from the other side of the door. Letting out a yawn she could feel drool on the left side of her cheek that she easily wiped off before looking at her hand. Stained in black she gasped loudly as she then noticed the knocked over ink cup that not only coated her hands but her paper as well. The voice on the other side was filled with panic as they called her name once more and asked if everything was okay. This time she responded.

"Uhh Yes sir I just spilled something. Please come in though." Peach stuttered out to Toadsworth now clearly registering his voice. She walked over to her vanity stand and grabbed a few wet wipes to get the ink stains off her hand and no doubt her face.

The slightly graying mustache toad opened the door and walked in and from the mirror's reflection she could see him eyeing every little corner of the room. Everything's in its place and the closets organized too she wanted to tell him reading his body language. The smell caught her attention before she noticed the serving tray in his hand.  Peach concluded she must've slept through dinner and the staff inside the castle couldn't get an answer from her, thus Toadsworth hand delivered her food himself. Cheep Cheep filet, rice, some mixed vegetables, and a cup of ice water all sat nicely on both the plate and coaster. She followed his movement as he went over to her soiled desk Noticing the mess he turned around and decided to place the tray on her bed instead.

"Peach Dear, your desk is an absolute mess. I fear that we won't be able to get a stain of that gratitude out no matter how good we wipe it" he placed his chin in between his fingers as he took in the damage. "I'll put in an order first thing in the morning and they should have a new one in here by the afternoon at the earliest." He assured her pulling out a miniature notepad and quill jotting down the reminder for himself.

Peach was about to speak up and tell him that there was no need to worry about the desk since it was still usable and the stains didn't bother her but, it seemed Toadsworth still had more to share as he continued.

"Though we're putting the final touches in your work office so there will be no need for you to bring anything extra to bed after all..."  He said as a matter of fact

"A Princess shouldn't do her work in the same space she should be getting her rest" Peach said along with him. She's heard it at least five times a day since they started working on it.

"Ah so remembered. Perfect, I'm very proud." He praised her and finally he noticed the paper on the desk. "Oh goodness was this the speech you've been working hard on?" She froze and hunched her shoulders at his question "It's simply unreadable but I trust that you finished it and took time to memorize as well. Yes?" He turned towards her and she avoided eye contact.

The long silence spoke volumes and was a dead give away of another day of procrastination. Peach figured she should at least give him something no matter how pointless it would be to him.

"I tried writing in the library and it was just too quiet. I went up to the hillside and even with Lord Bowser's company and advice, nothing came up." The scoff and 'predictable' comment at the mention of the Koopa from Toadsworth didn't go unnoticed. "I just came back home after that with the intentions of finishing it but I guess I fell asleep" she finished

Peach could feel the glare burn a hole on the side of her head as she crossed the room to get to the bathroom. From the corner of her eye she could see the disapproving shaking of his head and arms crossed. He waited for her to come out and sit down on the bed before he started talking again.

"You're cutting, finishing that speech awfully close for having two weeks on it would you not agree?" He inquired.

"I promise you I'll have it finished by tomorrow. I'll even leave it on your desk if you promise to only glance at it." She negotiated with him. 

"Have you forgotten about the last of the preparations we scheduled for the next two days? The dress rehearsal,  where the council would like to hear the speech beforehand to offer any last minute suggestion. Does all that sound familiar?" He reminded her by listing off each thing by his fingers.

All of that stuff did slip her mind but in fairness, she had 2-3 appointments everyday for the past two weeks with training sessions thrown somewhere in the mix. If Toadsworth didn't keep everything in his planner and stayed on top of her, Peach would probably be a no show at everything. He was taking his role as her royal adviser very seriously and showing that there was no one more suited for that role than he was.This stuff also reminded her of something she'd been meaning to ask him even if she already knew what he would say. There was no harm in trying though she supposed and just went for it.

"Toadsworth I was thinking, could I maybe do my own hair and makeup on the day of the coronation?" Again completely ignoring his previous inquiries. "I promise It'll look presentable." She told him. 

Toadsworth didn't answer her right away. He seemed to really be considering it and she could tell that he was mentally weighing the pros and cons of her request. The only fair reason she could see him denying her is because she's only been doing her own makeup for a couple of months. All the more reason for him to give her the opportunity to perfect the skill is what she could counter with. When Toadsworth makes up his mind about someone however, it's hard to sway him. 

"Absolutely not." He watched the hopeful expression drain from her face instantly "This is an extremely important event and it'll no doubt go down in the history books. You're still an amateur when it comes to both things and I will not have you looking any kind of way." He explained

Seemingly finished with his self rant, Peach was about to retort with a response of her own but, as soon as she opened her mouth, he did too.

"However, with it being your Birthday we'll let you have a little input in the process. Remember, everything needs to happen on time. I can't have you taking up three hours redoing your makeup or restyling your hair cause you're satisfied with it one moment and the next you're not. You do understand where I'm coming from right?" He asked her and gave himself a pat on the back when her face brightened with a wide smile. 

"That works! Thank you so much" she jumped off the bed nearly spilling the tray and knocking Toadsworth over as she wrapped her arms around him. "That's rude though I'm not that indecisive when it comes to getting ready. Give me a break" she told him half seriously.

"Would I say it if it wasn't true?" He returned the comment with a similar tone, they both shared a little laugh before. His expressions grew serious as he pulled her away from the embrace. "I do need you to get that speech done. You have till the morning of the rehearsal at the latest." She nodded eagerly.

"Pinky promise It'll be ready by then" she held out her finger waiting for him to lock together and seal the deal. He did.

"Well with that I'll be retiring to my quarters for the evening. Be sure to eat all your dinner and leave the tray in the hall for the staff to pick it up on their morning rounds." Toadsworth made his way to the doorway and Peach followed. "I'll be here at eight sharp to escort you to the first of your appointments. Do make sure you bring the paper and quill in case inspiration strikes you while we're about." He told her.

"Yes sir, Toadsworth. Goodnight and I hope you get plenty of rest." Peach wished him. Now that he mentioned eight in the morning, that reminded her how they didn't go over tomorrow's schedule. No use in saying anything about it now she figured.

"Same to you as well my dear. Please come and see me if you need anything.  I'll be up for a little while longer. " He finally said, turning to make his way down the hall.  

Peach closed the door behind him after a few moments. Not long after finishing her meal and one final trip to the bathroom for the night, she lay comfortably in bed. The only light source came from the moonlight as it shone on the desk. Even now the right words still hadn't come to her and while it was frustrating she knew thinking about it wouldn't get it done. Pushing those thoughts aside for now she faced away to stare at the door instead. Closing her eyes it took her over an hour to finally fall asleep. 

Two days came and went like a blur and Peach could not have dreaded it more with the knot in her stomach. She felt as if the moment she got out of bed, she'd puke up last night's dinner. The sunlight that greeted her, did nothing but burn her eyes and in turn hurt her head. To keep the room from spinning she laid face down and pulled both the pillow and covers over her head. Though hopeless, she wished she was maybe a week in the future already crowned and working on whatever assignment that required her attention. That same knocking on the door from two nights ago, did nothing for the way her heart was rapidly beating as she tried to curl more into herself to be as small as possible.  

"Peach My Dear, it's Toadsworth can I come in" He called out as chipper as ever. 

"Come in!" She groaned out weakly. Glad someone sounds like they're in a good mood she envied.

The knob twisted and in walked Toadsworth. Similarly to the other night, she smelled the food first but that didn't coax her one bit into removing the covers. If anything it spoiled her appetite even more.

"Happy Birthday to you my dear and here's to a wonderful coronation day." He cheered. Taking the tray over to the new desk he sat it down and finally took a better look at the bundled object on the bed. "How are you feeling?" He asked, a bit worried.

"Can we maybe...um I don't know...do this at a later date?" Peach asked him in a quiet strained voice.  She had to repeat herself a little louder as he didn't hear her the first time.

"I'm afraid not my dear, unless you're really-" he gasped aloud causing her to flinch slightly at the sound. He was at the side of her bed in an instant pulling the covers away. This made Peach finally move the pillow out the way as she stared tiredly back at him. "You're not sick are you? I should've been more observant of your health these past days." He pushed her bangs out of her face in order to feel her forehead. 

I wish Peach thought to herself miserably as Toadsworth began to mark off all the common symptoms associated with sickness. No fever, Throat feels fine, No dry cough, No stuffy or runny nose, and no red eyes. Nothing. The next thing he asked made her sit up in bed sharply, turning a bright cherry red in embarrassment.

"Oh perhaps your monthlies decided that today would be a good morning to pay you a visit. Never matter, just do what you usually do and I'll get someone to make you a herbal tea and if necessary I'll get the doctor to come over." He assured her. "My apologies for not taking this into consideration when picking a date. I should've done a better job at tracking it" he spoke aloud as he started off. He made it two steps before he felt her hand grip his turning to face her once more.

"It's not that and please don't ever track that please. I can do it on my own." She begged him.

"Well if you're not sick in any way, what seems to be troubling you this morning? We got some time to talk about it. Maybe I can help" he pulled himself up on her bed and covered her hand with both his urging to be honest and that he was listening.

"I suppose, I'm just extremely anxious about everyone's reaction to everything." She told him looking down at their hands.

Truth is all the outcomes that have come across her mind have been nothing but negative. Almost all of them ended in the same scenario: 

The toads not accepting her as their leader and banishing her to some unknown land.

Peach felt silly to think something like that would happen in a million years but, there was this nagging voice in the back of her head telling her otherwise. Other minor things included forgetting her speech and stumbling over all her words after rehearsing it repeatedly all night. There was also tripping on her feet despite being able to walk  perfectly fine in heels for years now. Finally she would rather disappear, if for some reason she just broke out in tears in front of the people that trust her to be strong regardless of what's going on. She didn't notice her breathing slightly escalate or her hands shake involuntarily until she felt Toadsworth squeeze them, bringing her back to the present.

"Words probably won't do much to ease your anxiety about this but it really is all that I can provide" He told her honestly. "I want you to take a deep breath and just take time to remember the most important thing. You know what that is right?" She followed his instruction. A deep inhale and  an exhale. Shaking her head at the question. He chuckled "I know you know it but I have no problems reminding you. Just as much as you want to succeed, we all want to see you do so as well. We'll stand by you through everything that happens. We may be bigger in numbers then when you were younger but we'll always be a community that takes care of each other, yes?" He told her confidentiality.

Toadsworth was right about both statements. While it eased her nervousness a bit, it didn't go away entirely. If it was anything she learned from growing up amongst the toads, they had unconditional love and loyalty to each other and would always be there to lift each other up no matter how bad things get. She nodded her head in agreement.

"Good. Now I'll return in an hours

 That should be enough time for you to get situated for the morning." He rubbed her hands gently before getting up to leave.

"Toadsworth" she called out to him. Pausing in the doorway he looked for her to continue. "Thank you for the wishes for earlier and I'm going to make you all proud" she promised.

"Of Course and you've already made me prouder than you'll ever know." He gave her a wide smile and with that he left.

Peach carried out her usual morning routine with a new purpose and feeling a bit better about herself. In between mouthfuls of fruits, Bowser had sent his 'gifts' to her and the staff delivered it outside her door. A potted piranha plant that she'll put on the balcony till it learns to obey or she accidentally kills it in self defense. A hefty bag of what sounded like gold coins... someone's feeling generous. Lastly a piece of paper that she at first assumed was a portrait of himself as he did that every year however, this paper was wrapped in a red ribbon. It took her a minute to realize that this was the treaty they agreed on all these years ago. Cutting it close by sending it the day off but Bowser has always done things on his time and terms.

Peach placed the document on her desk. She figured when she meets back up with Toadsworth he'll read over the details and they'll negotiate things at a later date if need be. After handing over said paper, Toadsworth took her to the hairdresser and told her that he'd see her around an hour before the event got started. They tried out multiple hairstyles yesterday to see which one she liked the most. At one point they narrowed down styles to one long single braid or just curling it and styling it in a cute updo or letting it hang down. That's when she flipped through the book and saw a variety of different hair buns so they tried them out until she found the one. Everyone loved the rose bun and they opted to brush her signature bangs in and added a small pink heart shaped hair clip. 

Peach touched up her mascara a bit, having done it earlier before coming after a couple toads applied her makeup. The toads let her put on the light pink lipstick herself. While they got outfits from other places, The toads crafted most of the clothing in her wardrobe and they went all out creating gowns just for today. She must have tried on over two dozen different custom dresses the other day. By the third hour she felt as if her legs would give out standing in one spot for so long.  Between all the yes's, no's,  try the other one on again, and if you like this one you she thought it would never end. Everyone instantly fell in love and agreed that the final dress she tried on was the one. 

A powder pink floor length spaghetti strap v-neck dress with lace on the top. For added modesty they paired it with a long cape the same color. Peach had just finished sliding on the 6-inch silver heels when one of the toads came over to her with a flat light pink gift box tied with a hot pink ribbon. It's from Toadsworth who told them to give it to her once she was dressed.  They left her alone in the room to open it and she almost broke into tears upon seeing it along with a handwritten note. A sapphire jeweled brooch and a pair of matching big sphered earrings, her favorite gemstone for as long as she could remember. 

"It's beautiful just like your eyes"  he told her when he caught her admiring the gem through the glass.

The note as simple as it was made her heart swell with happiness. It said:

" Happy Birthday my beautiful Princess,

I'm so proud of the person you're growing into. You're so confident, strong, and kind everything a good leader should be. I cannot wait to see all the amazing things you will continue to do in the future. 

Forever by your side, Toadsworth"

Peach reread it several times fully taking in all the words. With a long deep breath she folded the note and placed it inside the lid of the box. She stood in front of the mirror and put on the earrings first. She positioned the brooch in different places around her chest, before settling by pinning it in the middle. Time seemed to fly by as she admired her final appearance only pulled out of her thoughts at the toad guard asking if she was ready to be escorted to the throne room. Two of them led her in the front while two others followed behind.  The walk that seemed so short now seemed never-ending now as the nerves from earlier started making its way back up.

Too distracted to notice, the toads stopped in front of the large brown double door and she almost bumped into them. They were waiting on the green toad told her. It shouldn't be long now a yellow toad said from behind. This was it,  the real deal, her one and only chance to make a good impression as a Princess. Do it as you rehearsed and They will love it, was what she kept saying in her head. From behind the door she could barely make out the words Toadsworth was saying until he said 'I give you Peach'. 

Not wasting even a second more, both toads each took a side and pushed the door open. Peach squared her shoulders and stood tall and faced forward. The atmosphere around her went silent as they took the tread towards the steps. From the corner of her eyes she could see the orchestra of toads playing their instruments. Both sides were filled with citizens applauding and smiling at her entrance. Bowser did take his spot at the front and even he seemed to be impressed with her newfound confidence. The guards broke off to the left and right sides and pivoted facing each other as they reached the first step.

Peach continued forward as practiced. Heart beating faster with each step up. Toadsworth stood at the top holding a pillow with her golden ruby and sapphire decorated crown. The final step came quicker than she was expecting and once she was next to Toadsworth, she turned to finally face the audience. With a raise of her right arm the applause and music faded into silence. This was it she willed herself and with one final exhale she was ready to speak.

“Good afternoon my people. I want to first start off by thanking each and every one of you for being here today as I take the first step towards being someone you guys can look too for protection and to depend on to make the best choices possible for you all." She started and surprised her own self at how clear her words were coming out. "I want you all to know that you can always come to me with any concerns you have and I will hear you out through everything. I won't promise that there won't be any mistakes but I will do my best to remedy them as soon as they happen. It is with the love and kindness you've shown me all my life that has taught me what it means to grow a  community. So I promise to take all those teachings and put them into practice to keep it growing. Thank you for giving me the chance to be your leader. I won't let you down" She finished with a graceful curtsy to them all and once again the audience erupted in applause and cheers.

"You may now kneel" Toadsworth told her and the audience once again went silent as she followed his instructions. 

She felt the crown being placed on her head. It's as if with that one object all the responsibilities fell on her shoulders at once. While anxious about it, at the same time, she was ready to take on those challenges to the best of her abilities.

"You may rise." Again at his word, she did as he asked. "I give you all the first in name. Princess Peach Toadstool of the mushroom kingdom. May she do amazing things for us all" Toadsworth announced.

"All Hail Princess Peach" The entire throne room was filled with toads shouting the phrase over and over again. The Koopa King himself even joined in.

Peach was ready to show them all what she was really capable of.

[confetti-cat]

Each, All, Everything

Words: 6.5k

Rating: PG

Themes: Friendship, Self-Giving Love, Romantic Love

(Written for the Four Loves Fairytale Retelling challenge over at the @inklings-challenge! A retelling of Nix, Nought, Nothing.)

The giant’s daughter weeps, and remembers.

—

She remembers the day her father first brought him home.

It was a bit like the times he’d brought home creatures to amuse her while he was on his journeys, away on something he called “business” but she knew was “gathering whatever good of the land he wanted”. Her father had brought back a beautiful pony, once—a small one he could nearly carry in one huge hand. One for her, and not another for his collection of horses he kept in the long stables. She wasn’t as tall as the hills and broad as the cliffs like he was, so she couldn’t carry it easily, but she heaved it up in both arms and tried nonetheless. (And—she thought this was important—stopped trying when it showed fear.) She was gentle to it, and in time, she would only need speak to it and it would come eat from her hand like a tame bird. She’d never been happier.

(The pony had grown fearful of her father. Her father grew angry with anything that wasted his time by cowering or trying to flee him. There was a terrible commotion in the stables one day, and when she sought her pony afterward, she couldn’t find him. Her father told her it was gone, back to the forest, and he’d hear no more of it if she didn’t want beaten.)

(There was a sinking little pit in her stomach that knew. But when she didn’t look for the best in her father, it angered him and saddened her, so she made herself believe him.)

The final little creature he brought one day was so peculiar. It was a human boy, small as the bushes she would sometime uproot for paintbrushes, dressed in fine green like the trees and gold like her mother’s vine-ring she wore. He seemed young, like her. His tuft of brown hair was mussed by the wind, and his dark eyes watched everything around him, wide and unsure and curious.

When he first looked at her from his perch on her father’s shoulder, he stared for a long moment—then lifted a tiny hand in a wave. Suddenly overwhelmed with hope and possibilities (a friend! Surely her father had blessed her with a small friend they could keep and not just a pet!), she lifted her own hand in a little wave and tried to smile welcomingly.

The boy stared for another long moment, then seemed to try a hesitant smile back.

“This,” boomed her father, stooping down in the mist of the morning as he waved away a low cloud with one hand, “is what I rightly bargained for. A prince, very valuable. The King of the South—curse his deceitful aims!—promised him to me.”

“He looks very fancy,” she’d said, eyes wide in wonder. “How did the king come to give him to you, Father?”

“How indeed!” the giant growled, so loud it sent leaves rattling and birds rushing to fly from their trees. He slowly lowered himself to be seated on the weathered cliff behind him and picked up his spark-stone, tossing a few felled trees into their fire-basin and beginning to work at lighting them. “Through lies and deceit from him. When he asked me to carry him across the waters I asked him for Nix, Nought, Nothing in return.”

The little boy shifted, clearly uncomfortable but afraid to move much. Her father scowled, though he meant it as a smile, and bared his yellowed teeth as he laughed.

“Imagine his countenance when he returned to find the son he’d not known he’d had was called Nix, Nought, Nothing! He tried to send servant boys, but I am too keen for such trickery. Their blood is on the hands of the liar who sent them to me.”

Such talk from her father had always unsettled her, even if he said it so forcefully she couldn’t imagine just how it wasn’t right. Judging from the way the boy curled in on himself a little, clinging meekly to her father’s tattered shirt-shoulder, he thought similarly.

“Nix, Nought, Nothing?” She observed the small prince, unsure why disappointment arose in her at the way he seemed hesitant to look at her now. “That is a strange name.”

Her father struck the rocks, the sound of it so loud it echoed down the valley in an odd, uneven manner. He shook his head as he worked, a stained tooth poking out of his lips as he struck it again and again until large sparks began alighting on the wood.

“His mother tarried christening him until the father returned, calling him such instead.” He huffed a chuckle that sounded more like a sneer, seeming to opt to ignore the creature on his shoulder for the time being. “You know the feeling, eh, Bonny girl?”

The boy tentatively looked up at her again.

The fire crackled and began to eat away at the bark and dry pine needles. A soft orange glow began to creep over it, leaving black char as it went. With a sudden, sharp breath by her father, a large flame leapt into the air.

“It is good that she did so. He is Nix, Nought, Nothing—and that he will remain.”

—

Nix Nought Nothing grew to be a fine boy. Her father treated him as well as he did the prized horses he’d taken from knights and heroes—which was to say that the boy was given decent food and a dry place to sleep and the richest-looking clothes a tailor could be terrified into giving them, which was as well as her father treated anything.

Never a day went by that she was not thankful and with joy in her heart at having a friend so near.

They spent many days while her father was away exploring the forest—Nix would collect small rocks and unusual leaves and robin’s-eggs and butterflies, and she would lift him into high trees to look for nests, and sometimes stand in the rivers and splash the waterfalls at him just to laugh brightly at his gawking and laughing and sputtering.

Some days she wished she was more of a proper giant. She wasn’t large enough for it to be very comfortable giving him rides on her shoulder once he’d grown. She was hesitant to look any less strong, however, so she braided her golden curls to keep them from brushing him off and simply kept her head tilted away from him as they walked through the forests together.

He could sit quite easily and talk by her ear as they adventured. Perhaps she would never admit it, but she liked that. Most of the time.

“I’m getting your shoulder wet,” he protested, still sopping wet from the waterfall. He kept shifting around, trying to sit differently and avoid blotching her blue dress with more water than he already had. “I hope you’re noticing this inconveniences you too?”

“Yes,” Bonny laughed. “You’re right. I hope there’s still enough sun to dry us along the way back. Father won’t be pleased otherwise.”

“Exactly. Perhaps you should have thought that through before drenching me!” he huffed, but she could hear the grin in his tone even if she couldn’t quite turn her head to see it. He flicked his arm toward her and sent little droplets of water scattering across the side of her face.

Her shoulders jerked up involuntarily as the eye closest to him shut and she tried to crane her neck even further away, chuckling. Nix made a noise like he’d swallowed whatever words were on his tongue, clutching to her shoulder and hair to steady himself.

“You’d probably be best not trying to get me while I’m giving you a ride?” Bonny suggested, unable to help a wry smile.

“Yes. Agreed. Apologies.” His words came so stilted and readily that she had to purse her lips to keep in a laugh. As soon as he relaxed, his voice grew a tad incredulous. “Though—wait, I can’t exactly do anything once I’m down. Are you trying to escape my well-earned retaliation?”

“I would never,” she assured him, no longer trying to hide her smile. “I’ll put you in a tree when we get back and you can splash me all you like.”

Somehow, his voice was amused and skeptical and unimpressed by the notion all at once.

“Really? You’d do that?” he asked, sounding as if he were stifling a smirk.

She shrugged—gently, of course, but with a little inward sense of mischievousness—and he yelped again at the movement.

“Well, it would take a lot of water to get a giant wet,” she reasoned. “I doubt you’ll do much. But yes, for you, I would brave it.”

He chuckled, and she ventured a glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Bonny and brave,” he said, looking up at her with a little smile and those dark eyes glimmering with light. “You are a marvel.”

It would probably be very noticeable to him if she swallowed awkwardly and glanced away a bit in embarrassment. She tried not to do that, and instead gave him a crooked little smile in return.

“Hm,” was all she could say. “And what about you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m Nothing.” The jest was terrible, and would still be terrible even if she hadn’t heard it numerous times. “But you are truly a gem among girls.”

If by gem he meant a giantess who still had to enlist his help disentangling birds from her hair, then perhaps. She snorted.

“I don’t know how you would know. You don’t know any other girls.”

“Why would I need to?” His face was innocent, but his eyes were sparkling with mirth and mischief. “You’re the size of forty of them.”

The noise that erupted from her was so abrupt and embarrassingly like a snort it sent the branches trembling. She plucked him off her shoulder and set him gently on the ground so she could swat at him as gently as she could—careful not to strike him with the leaf-motifs on her ring—though it still knocked him off his feet and into the grass. He was laughing too hard to seem to mind, and she couldn’t stifle her laughs either.

“Well, you are really something,” she teased, unable to help her wide smile as she tried futilely to cast him a disapproving look.

That quieted him. He pushed himself to sit upright in the grass, and looked out at the woods ahead for a long moment.

“You think?” Nix asked quietly.

She smiled down at him.

“Yes,” she laughed softly. “Of course.” When he looked up at her, brown eyes curious, she held his gaze and hoped he could see just how glad she was to know him. “Everything, even.”

A small smile grew on his own face, lopsided and warm. He ducked his head a bit and looked away from her again, and embarrassment started to fill her—but it was worth it.

It often weighed on her heart to say that more than she did. She supposed she was the type of person who liked to show such things rather than say them.

She had a cramp in one of her shoulders from trying to carry him smoothly, but the weight on the other one—and on his—seemed far lighter.

—

She remembered the day her father came home livid.

She couldn’t figure out what had happened. Had he been wounded? Insulted? Tricked? He wouldn’t say.

He just raged. The trees bent under his wrath as he stamped them down, carving a new path through the forest. He picked up boulders and flung them at cliffsides, the noise of the impacts like thunder as showers of shattered stone flew in all directions.

She was tending to the garden a ways off—huge vines and stalks entwined their ways up poles and hill-high arbors made from towering pines, where she liked to work and admire how the sunset made the leaves glow gold—and suddenly had a sharp, sinking feeling.

Nix was still at his little shelter-house at their encampment. Her father was there.

Dread washed over her.

“Riddle me this, boy,” her father boomed, in the voice he only used when he wanted an excuse to strike something. “What is thick like glass and thin as air, cold but warm, ugly but fair? Fills the air yet never fills it, never exists but that all things will it?”

There was silence for a long moment.

...Silence. The answer was silence. Her father was trying to trick him into speaking.

Her hands curled around the bucket handle so weakly it was a surprise she didn’t drop it. Her father could crush him if he felt he had the slightest excuse.

Hush, hush, hush, her mind pleaded. Her hands shook. For your life and mine, hush—

There continued to be silence for a moment—and then, Nix must have answered. (Perhaps in jest. He tended to joke when uncertain. That would have been a mistake.)

There came the indescribable sound of a tree being ripped from its roots, and the deafening thunder of it being thrown and smashing down trees and structures.

Her whole body tensed horribly, and all she could see in her mind’s eye was nightmares.

No, she thought weakly.

Her father kept shouting. But not just shouting, addressing. Asking scathing rhetorical questions. She felt faint with relief, because her father had never wasted words on the dead.

I should have brought him with me. The thought flooded her body and left room for nothing else but dread and regret. I could have prevented this.

The stables were long and broad and old. Once, they had housed armies’ steeds and chariots. Now, they were run-down and reinforced so nothing could escape out the doors. The roof was broken off like a lid on hinges at intervals so her father could reach in to arrange and feed his horses.

Her father had seen no reason to keep the stalls clean. When one was so packed with bedding it had decomposed to soil at the floor level, the horse was moved to the next unused stall. There were so many stalls that she barely remembered, sometimes, that there were other ways of addressing the problem.

“The stable has not been cleaned in seven years,” her father boomed. “You will clean it tomorrow, or I will eat you in my stew.”

She couldn’t hear Nix’s response, but she could feel his dread.

Her father stormed away, more violently than any storm, and slowly, after the echoes of his steps faded, silence again began to hang in the air.

That night, it was hard to sleep. The next morning, it was hard to think.

She did the only thing she could think to do in such a nervous state. She brought her friend breakfast. His favorite breakfast—a roast leg of venison and a little knife he could use to cut off what he wanted of it, and fried turkey-eggs, and a modest chunk of soft brown bread.

When she arrived with it, he was still mucking out the first stall. There were hundreds ahead of him. He was only halfway to the floor of the first.

“I can’t eat,” Nix murmured, almost too quietly to hear and with too much misery to bear. “I can’t stop. But thank you.”

The pile outside the door he’d opened up was already growing too large. Of every pitchfork-full he threw out, some began to tumble back in. He was growing frustrated, and out of breath.

Why would her father raise a boy, a prince, only to eat him now? Her father was cunning; surely he’d had other plans for him. Or perhaps he really was kept like the horses, as a trophy or prize taken from the human kingdoms that giants so hated.

Was this his fate? Worked beyond reason, only to be killed?

Pity—or something stronger, perhaps, that she couldn’t name—stirred in her heart. A heat filled her veins, burning with sadness and a desire to set right. Would the world be worthwhile without this one small person in it?

No.

This wouldn’t end this way.

She called to the birds of the air and all the creatures of the forest. Her heart-song was sad and pure—so when she pleaded with them, to please hear, please come and carry away straw and earth and care for what has been neglected, they listened.

The stable was clean by the time the first stars appeared. When she set Nix gently on her shoulder afterward, he hugged the side of her head and laughed in weary relief for a long while.

—

She remembered the lake, and the tree.

“Shame on the wit who helped you,” her father had boomed. He’d inspected the stable by the light of his torch—a ship’s mast he’d wrapped the sails around the top of and drenched in oil—and found every last piece of dirt and straw gone. Had he known it was her, that she could do such a thing? She couldn’t tell. “But I have a worse task for you tomorrow.”

The lake nearest them was miles long, and miles wide, and so deep that even her father could not ford it.

“You will drain it dry by nightfall, or I will have you in my stew.”

The next morning, soon as her father had gone away past the hills, she came to the edge of the lake. She could hear the splashing before she saw it.

Nix stood knee-deep in the water, a large wooden bucket in his hands, struggling to heave the water out and into a trench he’d dug beside the shore.

When she neared him and knelt down in the sand, scanning the water and the trench and the distant, distant shoreline opposite them, Nix fell still for a moment. She looked at him, hoping he could see the apology in her eyes.

“Can I help?” she asked.

He shook his head miserably.

“Thank you. But even if we both worked all day, we couldn’t get it dry before nightfall.” He gave her a wry, sad smile, full of pain. “The birds and the creatures can’t carry buckets, I’m afraid.”

It was true. They could not take away the water.

But perhaps other things could.

She stood and drew a deep breath, and called to the fish of the rivers and lake, and to the deep places of the earth to please hear, please open your mouths and drain the lake dry.

With a tumult that shook the earth beneath them all, they did. The chasm it left in the land was great and terrible, but it was dry.

Her father was livid to see it.

“I’ve a worse job for you tomorrow,” he’d thundered at Nix as the twilight began to darken. “There is a tree that has grown from before your kind walked this land. It is many miles high, with no branches until you reach the top. Fetch me the seven eggs from the bird’s nest in its boughs, and break none, or I will eat you before the day is out.”

She found Nix at dawn the next day at the foot of the tree, staring up it with an expression more wearied than she’d ever seen before. She looked up the tree as well. It seemed to stretch up nearly to the clouds, its trunk wide and strong with not a foothold in sight. At the top, its leaves shone a faint gold in the sunlight.

“He is wrong to ask you these things,” Bonny said softly. Her words hung in the air like the sunbeams seemed to hang about the tree. There was something special about this place, some old power with roots that ran deep. “I’m very sorry for it.”

“You needn’t be,” Nix assured her. His countenance was grey, but he tried to smile. “But thank you. You’re very kind.”

She looked up the tree again. Uncertainty filled her, because this was an old tree—a strong one. Even if it could hear her, it had no obligation to listen. “Will you try?”

He laughed humorlessly. “What choice do I have?”

None. He had none.

He could not escape for long on his own—he could not be gone fast enough or hide safely enough for her father not to sniff him out. The destruction that would follow him would be far more than he would wish on the forests and villages and cities about them.

She, however, bit her lip.

She slipped the gold vine-ring off her hand, and rolled it so that it spiraled between her fingers. It was finely crafted, made to look like it was a young vine wrapping its way partly up her finger.

“This is all I have of my mother,” she said quietly. “But it will serve you better.”

Before he could speak—she knew him well enough to know that he would bid her to stop, to not lose something precious on his account (as if he weren’t?)—she whispered a birdlike song, and pleaded with the gold and the tree and the old good in the world to help them.

When she tossed the ring at the base of the tree (was it shameful that she had to quell a sadness that tried to creep into her heart?), it writhed. One end of it rooted into the ground, and suddenly it was no longer gold, but yellow-green—and the vine grew, and grew, curling around the tree as it stretched upward until it was nearly out of sight.

Nix stared at her with wide eyes and an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, it made her ears warm.

She smiled slightly and stepped back, tilting her head at the vine.

“Well?” she said. He was still staring at her with that look—some mix of awestruck and like he was trying to draw together words—and it made her fold her arms lightly and smile as she looked away. She quickly looked back to him, hoping faintly that her embarrassment wasn’t obvious. “You’d best hurry. That’s still a long way up.”

He seemed to give up finding words for the moment. Nix glanced up the tree, now decked with a spiral of thick, knobby vine that looked nearby like uneven stairs.

“Give me a boost?” he asked with a bright grin. “To speed it up.”

She laughed and gently scooped him up in both hands. “A boost, or just a boost?”

He beamed at her. “As high as you can get me,” he declared, waving an arm dramatically.

She laughed and shook her head. ”Absolutely not. Ready?”

Nix nodded, and she smiled thinly and poured all her focus into a spot a good distance up the tree. With a very gentle but swift motion, she tossed him upward a bit—and he landed on his feet on the vine, one shoulder against the bark, clutching to the tree for support as he laughed.

“A marvel!” he shouted down to her as he climbed. “Never forget that!”

The sun was nearly setting when he descended with the eggs bundled in his handkerchief. He was glowing.

He triumphantly hopped down the last few feet to the ground.

A moment after he landed, a soft crack sounded. He froze.

Slowly, he drew the bundle more securely into his arms against him and looked down. There, by his foot, was a little speckled egg, half-broken in the grass.

She put a hand over her mouth. Nix clutched the rest and stared.

A grievous pain and numbness slowly filled her heart, and she knew it was filling his too.

His shoulders began to shake, and his eyes were glassy.

“Well,” he laughed weakly. ”...That’s it. That’s... that was my chance.” The distress that overtook him was like a dark wave, and it threatened to cover her too. He only shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for—for helping me.”

For everything, she didn’t give him a chance to add. He was looking at her with the eyes of one who might say that. She couldn’t afford to be overcome with the notion of saying goodbye now.

“No,” she said. Her voice was quiet, at first, but it grew more resolute. “It won’t end this way.”

He blinked up at her, still clutching the other eggs to his chest. She looked down at him, then across the stretch of forest to their home.

Without a word, she gently picked him up and set him on her shoulder. Her jaw tensed as she strode quickly through well-worn paths of the forest, walking as fast as a horse could run.

Once home, she set him down. He was still looking at her questioningly. Her heart beat faster in her chest, and she hoped he couldn’t see the anxiousness rising in her and battling with the excitement.

“I will not let him have you,” she announced firmly. The trees and hills all around were witness to her promise. “Grab what you need. We’ll leave together in the hour.”

—

She‘d barely had time to fix her hair, grab her water flask, and decide it would be best this time of year to go south.

Her father’s footsteps boomed closer across the land.

—

They fled.

They ran, and ran, and struggled and strove, and she called for the help of anything she could think of that would have mercy on them.

Her comb grew into thorns, her hairpin into a hedge of jagged spires. Neither stopped him. Her dress’s hem was in tatters and sweat poured from her brow when they were finally safe.

Her flask lay behind them, cast down and broken, its magic used up.

Her father—her father—lay stretched out motionless in the flooded plain behind them, never to rise again.

—

There was a tiny spark of hope they had that they clung to. A hope of a future, of restoration, of amending the past and pursuing peace—of a life worth living, perhaps far, far away from things worth leaving behind.

(“I’ll go to the castle,” he’d said, his voice brimming with nerves and hope and uncertainty and sadness and an eager warmth. It made her heart try to mirror all those emotions alongside him. “I can tell my mother and father who I am. I’d still recognize them, even if they don’t know me. They’ll take us in, I’m sure of it.”)

He set out into the maze of village streets, assuring her he’d ask for directions and be back promptly. She stayed back by the well at the edge of the town so not to alarm anyone, too exhausted to go another step, but full of hope for him. She would wait until he returned.

(And wait. And wait. And wait and wait and wait and dread—)

The castle gardener came to draw water, and—as if she weren’t as tall as the small trees under the huge one she sat against—struck up a conversation with her about the mysterious boy who’d fallen unconscious across the threshold of the castle, asleep as if cursed to never wake up.

(The spark didn’t last long.)

—

She remembered when he could move.

“Please,” she whispered, as soft as her voice would go. “Please, if you can hear me. Wake up.”

(“Oh, dearest,” the gardener’s frail wife had murmured to her when the kind gardener brought her home to partake of a bit of supper. “I’m afraid they won’t let you in as you are. Would you let me sing you a catch as you eat?”)

The gardener’s wife was frailer by the end of it, but her heart-song could change things, like her own. Instead of towering at the heights of the houses, she was now six feet tall by human reckoning, and still thankful the castle had high halls and tall doors.

(Their daughter, a fair maiden with a shadow about her, had watched from the doorway.)

Nix Nought Nothing lay nearly motionless in the cushioned chair the castle servants had placed him in. His chest rose and fell slowly, like he was in a deep sleep.

He was still smaller than she was, but not by much. He seemed so large, or close. She could see details she’d never noticed before—his freckles, the definition of his eyelashes, the scuffs and loose threads in his tunic.

The way his head hung as if he could no longer support it.

She held him gently—oddly, now, with both her hands so small on his arms and an uncertainty of what to do now—and wept over him. She sung through her tears, her heart pleading with his very soul, but to no avail. He did not wake up.

He didn’t hear her—likely couldn’t hear her. All around him, the air was sharp and still and dead. Cursed.

Still, her heart pleaded with her, now. Try, try. Don’t stop speaking to him. Remember? He never stopped trying.

“You joke that you are nothing," she said, with every drop of earnestness in her being. "But I tell you, you are all I had, and all I had ever wished for.”

There was power in names. She knew that. But was his even a proper name? It really wasn’t—though it was all he had.

It was all she had as well. She had exhausted everything else close to her. There was nothing left to call on, to plead with, but him.

“Nix Nought Nothing,” she said softly. “Awaken, please.”

Her voice, no longer so resonant and deep with giant’s-breath, sounded foreign in her ears. It was mournful and soft like the doves of the rocks, and grieved like the groan of the earth when it split.

“I cleaned the stable, I lave the lake, and clomb the tree, all for the love of thee,” she said, her voice thickening with tears. A drop of saltwater fell and landed on his tunic, creating another of many small blotches. “And will you not awaken and speak to me?”

Nothing.

—

She didn’t remember being shown out of the room. Her vision was too blurred, and her mind was too distraught and overwhelmed. The next thing she could focus on enough to recall was that she was now seated on a stiff chair in the hall. Someone had been kind enough to set a cup of water on the little table beside her.

The towering doors creaked softly behind her, and at last, someone new entered. She looked over her shoulder, barely able to see through the dry burning left behind by her tears.

A man and a woman stood in the door. They were dressed in fine robes, and looked like nobles.

"What is the matter, dear?" the woman asked, looking over her appearance with eyes soft with pity. She came close, and her presence was like cool balm, gentle and comforting. "Why do you weep?"

The gold roses woven in the green of the woman's dress swam in her vision as she dropped her gaze, unsure what to say. These people seemed kind. But were they? Would they send her out from here, unable to return to him?

They would be right to do so. She was a stranger here, and Nix could not vouch for her like he'd planned.

"No matter what I do," she finally said softly, "I cannot get Nix Nought Nothing to awaken and speak to me."

In one moment, only the woman stood there—in the next, the man was beside her. The air was suddenly still and heavy like glass, and it felt as though there was a thread drawn taut between them all for a moment.

"Nix Nought Nothing?" they asked in unison, their voices full of something tense and heavy and sharp. When she looked up, nearly fearful at the sudden change in their tone, their faces were slack and pale.

Something stirred in her heart. Look. What do you see?

Green and gold. Their wide eyes were a familiar warm brown.

—

Now, things are changing.

According to the servant who'd been keeping an eye on him, all from the kingdom had been offered reward if they could wake the sleeping stranger, and the the gardener's daughter had succeeded. It was a mystery how it had happened—by whom had he been cursed? Her father? Then why could she not wake him, but a maiden from the castle-town here could?—but now, with the King and Queen hovering beside her and unable to stay still for anticipation, no one cared.

The gardener's daughter was fetched, and bid to sing the unspelling catch for the prince. (Prince. He was a prince, while she was a ruffian's daughter. She kept forgetting, when she was with him.) It was a haunting one that grated on her ears, as selfishly-written magics often did—and as if bitterness still crept at the girl's heart at the sight of all who were here, she left as soon as it was finished.

Nix Nought Nothing awoke—he awoke! He opened his eyes and sat up and looked at her as if seeing the sunrise after a year of darkness, and how her heart leaps high into her throat at the sight—and true to form, only blinks a few times at her as he seems to take her in before coming to terms with it.

"You look a bit different," he remarks, tilting his head slightly. "Or did I grow?"

She chokes on a snort.

"Hush," is all she can say. What had been an attempt at an unimpressed expression melts into a wavering smile. "Are you done napping now?"

He opens his mouth to retort, but a grin creeps onto his face before he can. He snickers. "Have I slept that long?"

"Nigh a week," the Queen says—and when Nix turns his head and sees her, his eyes grow wide. The Queen's smile grows broad and wavers with emotion, and the King's eyes are crinkled at the edges, and shining. "It has been a long time."

Her own father had never shown love like this—like the way Nix tries to leap from his chair at the same moment his parents rush to hold him, all of them laughing and sobbing and shouting exclamations of love and excitement and I-thought-I-would-never-see-you-agains. So much joy rolls off of them that she thinks she could have stood there watching forever and been content.

The first thing he does, after the first surge of this, is turn and introduce her to his parents, who had barely finished hugging him and kissing him and calling him their own dear son.

"This is the one who helped me," Nix says, already gesturing to her in excitement as he looks from her to his parents. "She sacrificed much to save me from the giant. Her kindness is brilliant and she blesses all who know her."

She tries not to look embarrassed at the glowing praise as Nix comes and stands beside her as he recounts their blur of a tale to his parents.

"Ah! She is bonny and brave," says the King. By the end of Nix's stories of their escapes, they're smiling warmly at her with such pride that she dips her head and smiles.

Nix Nought Nothing glances sideways up at her and raises a brow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

"I've tried to tell her that," he agrees. "I don't think she's ever believed me."

She purses her lips and glances down at him. "I'll believe it the day you believe you are not nothing."

"Alright." Simple as that, he folds his arms and raises a brow at her. "I believe it. Fair trade?"

"Fair enough," she decides, with a crooked little smile. He beams, as if she's done something worth being proud of, and looks to his parents, who indeed look proud of them both.

"We would welcome you as our daughter," the King declares heartily, and both the Queen and Nix brighten, which makes her too embarrassedly fixated on the thought of family? Starting anew? to register what comes next. "Surely, you should be married!"

Nix looks at her, arms still folded, his eyes twinkling. There's something hopeful in his eyes that makes her certain this diminutive new heart of hers has skipped a few beats.

"Should we? Surely?" he asks, as if this is a normal thing to be discussing.

She works her jaw and swallows a few times, unable to help how obviously awkward she still likely looks. A flush tickles her face, and the queen seems to put a hand over her mouth to smile behind it.

"I... don't... suppose... I would mind," she manages, and—with those bright eyes so affectionate, and on her—Nix starts snickering at her expression. It's rude, but so, so warm she can't mind. She only discovers how broadly she's smiling when she tries to purse her lips and glare at him but is unable to. "Oh, go back to sleep!" she chides, too gleeful inside to truly mind, even as she makes a motion as if throwing one of the chair-cushions at him.

"Never!" he declares, pretending to dodge the invisible pillow. He makes broad gestures that she presumes are meant to emphasize how serious he is about this. When he stands straight and tall and sets his shoulders, she thinks that the boy she's explored the forest with really does look like a prince. "I have my family and my love all together in safety at last. We have much to speak of, and much time yet to spend with each other." He's a prince, but of course, he's also still himself. He immediately gets a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and puts a hand to his chest nobly as he does what he's done for as long as she's known him—jokes, when his emotions rise. "I shall never adhere to a bedtime as long as I live!"

My love, her heart still repeats every time it beats—as payback, likely, for her calling it diminutive. My love, my love, my love.

She doesn't let it out, for she doesn't know what it will do. But the words weave a song within her, so vibrant and effervescent and strong, brighter and clearer than any she's had before.

"I am glad to see you are certainly still my dear son," the Queen says, her own eyes twinkling. "I'm certain you both need fed well after such a journey. Come, perhaps you both can tell us more of it as supper is prepared."

They fall into an easy tumble of conversation and rejoicing and genial planning, and her heart is so light she thinks it must be plotting to escape her chest.

On the week's end from when she brought him here, Nix Nought Nothing and his family welcomes her into their home. It feels natural. It feels warm, and homey, and so pleasant and right that she often has to stop tears of weary joy from welling up as she considers it all.

Once upon a time, she thought she'd known happiness well enough without him. She had known what it was like to be without a friend, and without love.

Now, it’s hard to remember it.

[eri-pl]

of Men again

AKA "Gold, East, Easterlings, humans in general and other evil-coded stuff" AKA "no, Morgoth, your trademarks are invalid" AKA "reclaiming the symbolics" AKA "another post on reading Tolkien in Christian context"

And by "Christian context" I mean less the values and more the "Silm is a fantasy prequel-fanfic for the Bible, especially the New Testament" (which is at least in some points of Tolkien's life, how he wrote it)

And as all fanfic authors, GMs and generally people working creatively in a preestablished world, especially one with some preestablished future, there's no fun like foreshadowing. Seriously. Adding foreshadowing to everything is the best creative fun. OK, I'm biased. Anyway

So, what do we have in the Silm? West is Valinor, East is the evil guys. Also, dark-skinned guys are generally in majority (I know Bór exists) evil (which is racist, but we'll make it less-racist in a moment) and serve Morgoth. He just goes and claims stuff as his own, and the Valar hold on to what is left.

hmm... I wanted to add silver/gold and moon/sun divides here, but they get complicated and aren't a good example, even if I instinctively map them to the West/East divide. I think it's just me in this case.

What do we have in the Bible? Where do the main event happens? East. To this day, churches face east, because east is the holy-ish direction. Also, symbolically, sunrise is a big thing.

That's a good metaphor for the elf-human difference. Elves are chasing the sunset, so that the last rays fade slower and last so very long. Humans cannot chase. The night falls upon them, but then the sun rises anew (spoiler: it doesn't set after that). But first the night must fall. And it is sad and scary and all that.

West-facing Elves versus East-facing Men.

So, back to the main event. Easterlings... well, the Jews aren't very pale-skinned or grey-eyed or beardless. To put it mildly. So it's kinda "Tolkien is racist in places", but maybe also kinda "Tolkien goes for maximum contrast and Morgoth getting defeated from the center of the lands he'd claimed as his own" maybe. a bit.

Like maybe in his mind putting so many evil Easterlings into the story still balanced well, because hey, later they got Jesus and all His early blorbos followers? Or maybe I shouldn't go guessing what was Jirt thinking.

Anyway, if you look at Silm as a Bible fanfic, some things suddenly jump into places.

I'm not saying it's the only way to look at it, I recently listed 2 or 3 (if we count Arthurian myth as separate) other angles. Silm is multidimensional, various parts of the story make sense when looking from various angles, that's why it's so incoherent at times.

[aceredshirt13]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

It’s so wild to think about that less than a year ago I only had six posted fics to choose from and now I have thirty-seven. So this was a hard choice… but in no particular order, here are my tentative top five!

Midnight Marauders - My longest fic, clocking in at more than 17k! It’s for The Great Ace Attorney, and chronicles how a young Herlock Sholmes met, befriended, and eventually moved in with a certain traumatized doctor, with a mixture of humor, drama, and warm-hearted pathos. I hadn’t read A Study in Scarlet when I started writing this, so the meeting is wholly original! (Perhaps Iris took some creative liberties.)

The Musgrave Ritual Sacrifice - My second-longest fic at more than 14k! It considers how the events of canon Sherlock Holmes story “The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual” might have played out in the eldritch horror universe of Neil Gaiman’s “A Study in Emerald”. Follow the brilliant detective, his partner, and their quiet, fond romance through a world of terror, mystery, and doubt.

i’ve studied how to properly love - Did you ever watch Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century and think to yourself, “Jesus Christ, the deeper implications of this children’s cartoon are absolutely horrific”? Then this fic is for you! It manifests as a journal written not by Watson, but by his robot imitation, as he worries over the newly-resurrected Holmes (who has convinced himself the robot Watson is the real man he loved), the self-destructive, guilt-ridden Beth Lestrade, and his own feelings, sentience, and sense of self. One of my favorite things I’ve ever written, actually.

A Proper Celebration - A sequel to an adorable Jeeves-Holmes crossover ficlet by Loremaiden, this is a short little oneshot about Bertie getting published for the first time, and fellow author and lifelong supporter Watson coming from Sussex along with Holmes to congratulate him. By far the fluffiest entry on this list. (And I’m a bit proud of managing a decent Bertie Wooster POV voice that people seemed to like!)

To Taste Death Valiantly - I love the Raffles stories by E. W. Hornung. I also love the 1971 cult film They Might Be Giants, an odd romantic comedy about a man who thinks he’s Sherlock Holmes and the doctor named Mildred Watson who is assigned to look after him. So I thought to myself: what if there was a Raffles version of the same story - but this time they were both girls?? Thus, this is the tale of Sarah “Bunny” Mathers, failed writer and suicidal housewife, and how a chance meeting with a beautiful, delusional burglar gives her a new reason to live. Probably the nichest entry on this list, but I had a lot of fun writing it.

[ahatintimepieces]

Despite the threat of horrific trances, the painter keeps trying to escape. Though his conviction begins to wane... meanwhile, the villagers in Subcon all seem particularly gloomy. They chalk it up to the cold season, but Mari is certain the reason lies elsewhere.

[softlysuited]

new clone wars fic!!

so, the last two episodes of the Bad Batch (s2 e7 & 8) have done a LOT of work in terms of making sure the clones are actually characters treated with respect when seen outside the perspective of the Batch, which is huge. anyway here’s a fic about Cody post-Desix (as of TBB s2e3!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44904535/chapters/112985149

enjoy!!

[ur-fav-alien]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: All Elite Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Orange Cassidy & Donovan Danhausen, The Best Friends - Relationship, Background Relationships:, Donovan Danhausen/Hook, Orange Cassidy/Chuck Taylor, implied: - Relationship, Red Velvet/Kris Statlander Characters: Donovan Danhausen, Orange Cassidy, The Best Friends - Character, Hook (Professional Wrestling), Ethan Page, Rocky Romero, Small role:, Angélico (Professional Wrestling) Additional Tags: Friendship, Fluff, Day At The Beach, The Best Friends are best friends, Fourth of July, demon!danhausen, Danhausen's first day at the beach Series: Part 6 of Danhausen + Friends Summary:

The Best Friends are invited to a AEW 4th of July party, but what happens when they find out that it's Danhausen's first time at a beach? Orange Cassidy tries to make it the best memory Danhausen will ever have.