#i arranged other songs maybe i should post them one by one

[love-marimo]

made a little something yesterday ♡

song: ruu's melody // genshin impact

instrument: laud // filipino tuning

[saetgvia]

spark | wriothesley

in which you and wriothesley find an unlikely spark.

CHAPTER ONE: A NOT SO MEET-CUTE

prince!wrio x fem!noble!reader, invented country au

✧ genre: fluff, angst...? maybe...? if you squint...?, arranged marriage trope

✧ tw: none, if you see any lmk <3

✧ word count: 1.32K

✧ playlist: spark - taeyeon, radio - lana del rey, deja vu - txt, darl+ing - seventeen, invu - taeyeon, agora hills - doja cat, killin' me good - jihyo, i like you (a happier song) - doja cat & post malone, fever - enhypen, eleven - ive, hype boy - newjeans, hard to love - rose, sour grapes - le sserafim, oh my god - adele, my head & my heart - ava max, nonsense - sabrina carpenter, the feels - twice

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i. a not so meet-cute

'what.' you stare in disbelief at your parents. 'there's no way. NO. WAY.' arranged marriages only happen in books. of course you'd heard of them in your country of azura, some distant cousin being married to some lord or other for alliances or whatever, but you'd always been free to do what you wanted, marry who you chose. your parents never put any restrictions on you, but this out of the blue is so- 'unexpected! what? i thought-' 'circumstances change.' your father replies shortly. 'i- you- you can't do this!' you cry, becoming more and more panicked. you wanted to fall in love, marry someone you chose! and now, you were going to be pawned off to someone you didn't even know. wait...

'can you at least tell me who i'm being given away to?' 'you're not being given away-' 'oh mom, it's fine. i know how this works. so, who is it?'

wriothesley. the prince of emeia. a name that struck fear into your very soul. not because he was a terrible ruler or a womaniser. he was, in fact, the complete opposite. you'd heard tales from all over the kingdom in the form of gossiping ladies giggling behind fans, sipping their tea and gushing to your mother. she, in turn, laughed daintily, and turned to you with a pointed look. how could she even know? his parents kept him hidden away from the world, their precious son too perfect for mere commoners. no, you were afraid because you didn't know him. because he seemed too good to be true. and most of all, because he was about to become your life. you should have seen this coming.

'i won't go.'

your father's eyes narrow, and you can see his neatly trimmed beard bristling in anger. you've never seen him like this before, and over something as silly as an arranged marriage? your mother puts a placating arm on his bicep, and he shoots her a look, both of them communicating through their gaze. finally, he exhales, evidently trying to calm himself, and speaks.

'we... we're in debt. remember that deal with ceria? the cherry liqueur? they've been selling it for exorbitant prices without giving us any of the profits, and we've been depending on that to get us out of last winter's snowstorms. emeia noticed us struggling and have so kindly offered to refill our coffers in exchange for your hand.' there's a hint of annoyance in his tone, and you begin to understand just how much this is weighing on him. but still, how can you throw your life away like that?

'i'll think about it.'

⭑⭑⭑

'but i don't WANT to!' you shriek into your pillow, kicking your feet in true spoiled girl fashion. your maid, or rather, your friend, giselle, winces, and tries to comfort you.

'hey, maybe it won't be so bad! everyone says he's a sweetheart!'

'but everyone ISN'T BEING MARRIED OFF TO HIM!'

'think about your parents, hon! you can always divorce him later, run away, fake your own death-'

she breaks off at your deadpan gaze, and starts to giggle, until you start to giggle, and you're both in your bed cackling uncontrollably. you wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, and look at giselle over the rumpled sheets, her eyes twinkling, and you wish there were more people like her in the world. sitting up, you clasp her hands between yours, and trace the lines on her weathered palm. you exhale, and make up your mind. you have to marry wriothesley.

'giselle... i'll marry wriothesley. but only if you come with me.'

⭑⭑⭑

'woah woah woAH-' you cry as you stumble. your beautiful, floor-length cherry-red dress, so stunning to look at when you were standing in one place, was nothing but a nuisance when you were walking. for comfort, you'd opted for soft velvet flats instead of the heels sent for you; you could see the flaws in this decision now. but instead of breaking your nose, you're met with shoes. shiny leather shoes, buckled with silver, and a pair of strong - warm - arms gripping your own. slowly raising your head, your eyes land on a beautiful face. chiseled jawline, chiseled nose, chiseled forehead, somehow his neck is also chiseled. but his lips, so plump and pink and soft, and his eyes, like chips of blue ice, hold a twinkle of mirth.

'woah there, careful. wouldn't want you to get hurt.'

his voice is honey, smooth and sweet, and it washes over your ears. you can't stop staring, enthralled by his gaze.

'cat got your tongue?'

you snap out of your daze, realising you're still half on the mysterious stranger, and stumble backwards. you brush your hands over your dress, the gold embroidery rough under your fingers.

'sorry. i uh- i have to go.'

you picked up your skirts and hurried back towards the throne room. you didn't think you could get so lost trying to go to the bathroom! stopping before a mirror adorning the wall, you take a quick look at your appearance. the crimson dress fit your figure wonderfully, golden embroidery curling up the sides and front of your dress, forming a pattern of flames that ended just below your neckline. your hair, so lustrous and thick, had managed to escape its tight bindings, so you gasp heavily as you catch your breath and tie your hair up at the same time, the ribbon cherry-red to match your dress. adjusting yourself one final time, you nod to the guards outside to open the door for you, and walk into the throne room.

you're once again taken by surprise at the grandness of it all. absolutely everything inside is scarlet, a stark contrast to the cool blue drapes of azura. you'd always found it funny how blue was your dukedom's colour and yet your primary export was cherries, something so very opposite. the floor, carpeted in lush red and cream formed a pathway up to the raised thrones, all three of them cushioned by velvet and adorned with gold scrollwork and filigree. behind the thrones and all around, rich tapestries decorate the walls, vermilion depictions of the kingdom's greatest victories. you weren't sure if they were there to celebrate or intimidate. maybe both. a big, booming laugh reaches your ears, and your gaze is drawn to the antechamber towards the back of the room. ah, so that's where they've gone to. you scurry towards the chamber, nodding with as much regal-ness as you could muster towards the servants who caught your eye and sank into a deep curtsy or bow. straightening your dress, again, out of habit, you step into the room.

your parents are laughing, your father releasing his great guffaw and your mother tittering behind her gloved hand. the king of emeia, a warm, welcoming person with greying ebony hair and soft blue eyes was telling some kind of story, while his wife, the queen, sat, watching the scene with adoration and satisfaction. the queen noticed you first, her brown eyes crinkling into a sweet smile as she noticed you.

'oh there you are! we were wondering where you'd gone.'

'sorry... i got a little lost.' you take your seat on another velvet sofa, picking up your cup of tea. the servants appeared to have brought more plates of food in, the table once again covered in delicate china piled high with macarons and pastries and little sandwiches cut into perfect triangles. you pick up one of the treats, a golden swirl of pastry with colourful fruit peeking out, and bite into it. it's heavenly, deliciously flaky and sweet on your tongue. you pick it up and munch happily on it again.

'ah, here he is. wrio! here is the girl we wish for you to marry.'

you choke. because when you look up, you see the same chiseled features, the same lips, the same eyes and the same smile.

'THAT'S wriothesley?'

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from saetgvia: i have never started writing a fic so fast oh my god??? very excited for this fic and i hope you are too <3 stay tuned will have part 2 coming out soon!

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please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my spark taglist and overall is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added! just specify which one.

© saetgvia 2024. do not copy or repost.

[jayenator565]

My Tanthamore Comfort Fics

We were talking about comfort fics in the Tanthamore discord and I realized I have too many for a normal sized reply, so here's a tumblr post instead. In no particular order i've reread these fics...maybe too many times.

I'm just gonna list em by author cause that's easier. Keep in mind we may have different definitions of the word comfort.

@commanderbuffy

650 ft2 - Ok so like envision these girls have been best friends for forever and they've been secretly pining for ages, no sense of personal space, they can read eachother like books AND they were roommates!

The Tanthamore Affair - This fic has everything, one bed, fake dating, celeb au, the fic that changed the meaning of a certain emoji and all the tropes you could want really

@badlance

We've got to find other ways to make it together - this one line says all you need to know

"It is the greatest irony of Jade Claymore’s life to be a certified genius who is nevertheless in love with an idiot."

@spybrarian

More Than Just Survival - as far as 5+1 fics go this one has me in a CHOKEHOLD

I scream at your chest for as long as I must

one night at the start of the end of the world

@ilovemyships (i think you need an AO3 account to read these gems)

you won't believe it (they think we're lovers)

don't wanna pressure (but friends don't kiss friends)

@acre-of-wheat - Acre's way with words should be studied

Network Connectivity Issues - I have never related to a character more than I relate to this Jade

The Dark

The Bite

@jlmichigan

Out of the Cuirass - one of the first tanthamore fics I ever read actually and I still come back to it every so often

@stbot

lay down your armor (come lie bare with me) - saintbot has a catalogue lemme tell ya but this one for tanthamore is just so heartwarming

@overkill-max

Escaping Fate - the Kit runs away fic that everyone needs

Dil3mma (idk their tumblr right now sorry)

A Sword And A Shield (And Everything In Between)

Deja-Brew - the loveliest coffee shop one shot

Jad3dEt3rnal (idk if they have a tumblr either)

This Daydream is Dangerous - cuddly vampire Jade, need I say more?

ana_chronistic (idk if they have a tumblr either x3)

Oops. I proposed. - fake dating x 100, fake proposal it's like fake dating to the next level and I love the growth of communication and pacing in this.

@barmaid-anon

do what you feel now

you want a good girl that does bad things (to you)

fulfill (an obligation) or keep (an arrangement)

we simply don't have time to unpack why these are comfort fics, we're just going to accept it and keep going.

@thecsquirrel

Sword and Shield - I love this look at what post S1 life could have been like for the gang, revisiting Nockmaar, seeing Galladoorn, getting into the evil Elora storyline with Graydon, spending more time with the Nelwyn and in the Wildwood it's just everything

@wigster07

What a pleasant surprise - a fic of one of my other comfort fics, I know it's like fic-ception in the best way possible. If you liked Tanthamore Affair I have an inkling this will be right up your alley

@isabrella @jade-claymore @allthefakepeople @resurrecho

those rumors they have big teeth - BAND AU need I say more? I don't need to but i'm going to, this fic has everything Kit and Jade in a band, Kit's leather pants, gay-ifying songs, MAMA MIA, totally gay best friends who have basically been dating for years but won't admit to it, Jade gets to be a bit problematic as a treat, inner band fighting, what more can you want?

@swashbucklery

meet you where the spirit meets the bones (tanthamore 90s werewolf au) - its a SERIES of these repressed gay DORKS and they're werewolves, there's such a charming way to how this author writes them I legit can't even with these two gays

@onlyshestandsthere

these walls come tumbling down - look, we don't have time to unpack why there's so many were-related supernatural esque fics on my comfort list and I know this is only 2 chapters in but I can already feel the comfort in all the hurt ok I dont even have to wait I already know i'm gonna be rereading this like monthly

I'm gonna have to stop there even though I know i'm still missing some! If someone asked me what my favorites are we'd be here all day XD

[moonstrider9904]

Serenno

Chapter 2 of Moonwalker: The Flame

{series masterlist} {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to Wattpad} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: As Sarah keeps trying to avoid Hunter and the others, a mission on Serenno brings notions into the air that will move the squad forward and makes Hunter aware of feelings brewing between Sarah and Tech.

Tags/Warnings: Mature. Allusions to polyamory. Angst, canon-typical violence, description of wounds.

Word count: 7.7k

Songs: Nocturne

A/N: This chapter is well over a year late and it makes me so happy to finally post this baby. I hope y'all enjoy some angst.

The sound of the training bolt echoing around the walls of the landing bay faded as Sarah stood still, remaining in firing position with her hereditary rifle in her hands. On rare times when she was alone, she’d sneak off and train with it in the landing bay, the one place she could be alone under the condition she never used live fire.

She figured she could make that shot a tad more perfect and, gazing down the scope and aiming directly at the tiny reflector disk she’d stuck to one of the walls, she fired again. The training bolt hit it better than it had last time, and the bolt bounced once, twice, and then a third time before finally hitting the ground.

When it did, the unwanted memory of the first time she saw Crosshair doing that invaded her mind—the audible smirk in his voice, the way her knees shook at how good he was with his rifle, the way she smiled at his cockiness and at how he was obviously pleased to have finally impressed her.

With a heavy sigh, Sarah lowered the Firepuncher and returned to the present. She walked over to the barrel she’d placed a few feet to her right where the holo image of Tech’s calculations rested. It seemed she’d finally gotten the angles right, but it was only a calculation made for three disks. For some reason, Sarah never saw herself using as many disks as Crosshair would, not by a long shot.

Then, in an abrupt rapture of the silence that surrounded her, her comm began to beep.

“Come in,” she answered, hesitant.

“Sarah, you are needed at the cantina,” Tech’s voice came from the other end.

“Why?”

A brief rustling came from the comm, a sign that it was being shifted from possession, and then Wrecker’s voice came in.

“We need you to convince Hunter to do something,” he said, his tone somewhat shy.

“What makes you think I can do that?” Sarah rolled her eyes as she reached for the holo-image and began to pack her things up. “I’m on my way, but I can’t promise anything.”

“If you coerce him, he just might do it,” Tech answered. “I predict he will be left vulnerable against your big eyes.”

“And your hips,” Wrecker cut in. “Maybe do that thing where you squeeze your arms at the sides of your chest and it makes your tits—”

“Please tell me Omega can’t hear you,” Sarah interrupted.

“She cannot,” Tech confirmed. “Are you on your way here?”

“You want me to manipulate him?” Sarah couldn’t help but chuckle. “Damn. Stay put, I’m heading there.”

“Interacting with you should be enough to lighten his tension,” Tech replied. “All of ours, frankly.”

Sarah sighed and cut the comm connection, heading straight for the cantina. When she arrived, she noticed Tech, Wrecker, and Echo huddled around a table with Cid. Of all of them, Cid was the first one to lay eyes on Sarah, directing at her a dim smile.

“Hardly see ya around here anymore, Strider,” Cid said.

“Sorry,” Sarah answered, her tone gentle and sincere towards Cid, who’d never once questioned Sarah for how she felt. “What’s going on here?”

“Dark and broody doesn’t want to go on the next mission I’ve arranged for ya,” Cid answered.

Sarah was mad at Hunter and that wouldn’t change for a long time, but she also knew him enough to know that whenever he didn’t want to go somewhere, he had a good reason for it. She figured convincing him of anything would be more difficult than swaying hips and batting her eyelashes at him, that was, if she didn’t agree with him for the first time in months.

“Where to?” Sarah asked.

Tech looked at her, solemn. “Serenno.”

Sarah scoffed, the disbelief knocking on her as well as the dismal memories that name invoked of the war and every person Dooku somehow managed to torment in its duration.

“Yeah, even I can see why he doesn’t want to go,” Sarah said.

“Which is saying a lot,” Cid muttered. “But the loot you can get from this mission will be enough to set you for life, and I’m not even exaggeratin’. We all agree you guys should go for it, all we have to do is convince bandana.”

“Convince me of what?” Hunter’s voice drew everyone’s attention onto him. Much as he had the currents against him most of the time, Hunter was still their leader, and the way his presence commanded dominance and respect made Sarah’s heart squeeze briefly.

But she managed to hustle through the feeling when Hunter’s gaze landed on her, partly upset at her, partly begging her to speak to him.

“I take it they’ve told you about Serenno,” Hunter told Sarah.

“They have,” she said.

“And are you going to try to convince me?” He asked.

Sarah sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “I don’t know. I hate the idea of Serenno, but if pulling this mission off will make us safer in a way, then I think we should do it.”

“We won’t be safe if we put ourselves in the way of the Empire after staying off their radar for so long, and I’m not willing to—”

“That’s the problem, you’re not willing to do many things you should do,” Sarah bit back.

The group fell silent with all eyes either on Hunter or on Sarah, each member expressing their own form of disdain from the argument. Finally, Cid cut through the tension by clearing her throat and looked at Hunter with understanding eyes.

“You’re never too late to want to protect your squad,” Cid told him. “And I care about you guys too even if it’s mushy to admit it, but hear me out. The loot from just one of those containers could help you buy your freedom. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“We’re already free,” Hunter told her, secure.

“Then you’re not payin’ attention,” Cid said. “The way the Empire was on Raxus, Ryloth, soon they’re gonna be here, and that means no more work for me, and no more work for you. You’re gonna have to move eventually and unless you start pullin’ off heists like this one, I won’t be able to help ya when that time comes.”

Sarah looked at the hologram projection of Castle Serenno and the freighters spotted around it, her thoughts swarming across many different fronts. It wasn’t long before she felt gazes on her and she looked up once more at everyone expecting an answer from her, as though anything she said would define their course of action.

As if what I want even mattered.

Sarah gave a soft sigh. “She’s right. With the way the Empire’s spreading, pretty soon we won’t be able to live like this, and we need to prepare.”

“We need to do more,” Echo told her.

“Perhaps,” Sarah looked at him. “But whether we like it or not, we’ll want to have some resources on our hands before we can even decide on what ‘doing more’ actually means for us.”

“We’re not in the position to do more. We’re fugitives, all of us,” Hunter said. “And the moment the Empire spots us, all the running away, all the hiding from planet to planet returns. I’d rather not be constantly running.”

“All the more reason for you to do this now, bandana,” Cid persuaded. “If you wanna go to a distant planet and live in peace, this is the way to start it. Think of it as buyin’ your ticket there.”

Sarah watched as Hunter turned his gaze towards Omega, who was sitting by herself at the bar reviewing study material Tech had given her. Watching him, Sarah felt her chest aching, a heartache that was uncomfortably common whenever she was around Hunter. She thought back to what she wanted to do when the war ended, and how she’d lost sight of it. She thought of how attractive the idea still sounded, to live on a far-off planet, forage for food, live in peace, forget about weapons and sorrow and loss and fear.

But after being torn from Crosshair and suffering Hunter’s betrayal, Sarah had stopped believing that was possible.

Hunter then looked back at the group and gave a short nod. “Alright. We’ll do it. We’ll ship out at first daylight.”

Around her, everyone seemed victorious and celebrated the fact that they’d go on the mission after all, but Sarah couldn’t feel that same resolve. Her heart sank; she knew that, despite having been asked to, Hunter hadn’t made his decision because of her.

The group scattered to make their preparations for the mission, and as Sarah made her way towards her room, she felt Hunter reaching out for her wrist, stopping her before she could get away from him. She hadn’t repelled him immediately like she normally would have, but Hunter wouldn’t get his hopes up too much because of it.

“I…” Hunter sighed. “I wanted to make sure this was okay with you.”

Sarah sighed. “Better late than never, I suppose.”

“Sarah—”

“I don’t care if we go to Serenno so long as we all return alive,” she said. “That’s how I feel about every mission now.”

“But you don’t deserve to feel like that,” he said.

Sarah scoffed at him and curved her lips in a smile riddled with disbelief. She then turned to look at Omega, who still sat at the bar, oblivious to most of the tensions that the adults in her family held between them.

“Ultimately, you decided because of her,” Sarah said softly.

“Yes,” said Hunter.

Sarah landed her gaze on Hunter again. “I envy her.”

Every glimpse of hope Hunter felt vanished from his eyes.

“You decided thinking of what was best for her,” Sarah added. “You made this decision because it’s what’s best for her. And ultimately, you will do for her what you wouldn’t do for me.”

“It isn’t like that—”

Sarah yanked her wrist from his grip. “I’m glad to know that’s where we stand.”

She walked off to her bunk room without looking back and resolved not to speak another word to him until it was absolutely necessary.

*

On the quiet flight to Serenno, Sarah sat in front of the Marauder’s left holopanel with her arms crossed, utterly silent. Opposite from her was Hunter in front of the other holopanel, his back turned on her as he scanned a planetary map for worlds that hadn’t yet been touched by the Empire, and probably wouldn’t be.

While it had been just the two of them avoiding each other in a ship that didn’t give either much freedom to escape, Echo soon walked into that section of the ship, his gaze heavy, yet somehow pleased that he’d caught Sarah and Hunter in the same place. Sarah knew her best friend well enough to know when something was on his mind, and this was clearly one of those occasions when Echo looked like he wanted to speak up. Sarah met his gaze, raising her eyebrows softly, prompting him to speak.

Hunter, who had felt Echo coming in, turned around to see why he’d taken so long to begin speaking. Once Echo had both of their attentions on him, he gave a sigh.

“Maybe we ought to talk about why we’re on this mission,” Echo lowered his voice. “And what we’ll do with the payment.”

“Hide,” Hunter replied.

“With the galaxy in its current state, you really think it’s sensible to take off and hide?” Echo said. “With the amount of people in need around the galaxy?”

“We can’t risk ourselves for everyone the rest of our lives,” Hunter added, “and living in constant war isn’t the life that kid deserves.”

“You should know, Echo,” Sarah spoke up, her gaze darting into Hunter. “He wouldn’t risk himself for his brother even if being oppressed by the Empire isn’t the life he deserves.”

Hunter looked at Sarah, his patience finally wearing off. “You want to talk about something?”

“No,” she replied, cynical. “I’m just taking every chance to remind you why we are the way we are.”

“Well, this isn’t the time to do that,” Hunter told her.

Sarah sighed and looked over at Echo. “When we get to Serenno, I’m finding a cliff to snipe from. I have the range.”

“No, I’ll need you with me,” Hunter told her.

“Wow, you’ve decided that already too,” she remarked with fake shock, shifting into a more regular tone afterwards. “Hunter, we’re stepping into Count Fucking Dooku’s home planet, and it’s laden with Imperials. The less blind we can walk in, the better, and you need an eye in the sky for that.”

“We have to stay as together as possible,” Hunter explained. “Two of us alone on different fronts will leave two members vulnerable, and we can’t risk that. Besides, we already have a shooter.”

Sarah scoffed. “Really?”

“What?” Hunter asked.

“You’re going with that?” She was practically mocking him.

“Going with what, Sarah?” Hunter asked again, exasperated at her.

Sarah stood up from her chair and in no time she stood in front of him, looking up with angry, hurt eyes. “She’s a child and therefore she shouldn’t be our shooter.”

“Lower your voice,” Hunter said through gritted teeth.

“You talk a lot about this not being the life she deserves, and I agree,” Sarah obliged, talking in a lower tone. “Then why are we still bringing her along when we already have a marksman?”

“I get it, you’re the one with the rifle—”

“I don’t mean me,” Sarah growled as a low rumble could be heard around her.

Eerie silence fell on the ship, and soon, the rumbling around Sarah ceased. She took a breath, centering herself; she didn’t want the ship being thrown out of hyperspace because of her.

“The rifle isn’t mine,” she continued, hushed. “I won’t bother you by saying his name out loud, but we both know he should be here, and he could be if you hadn’t been so selfish.”

“Sarah—”

“You could have stunned him. We could have dragged him back onto the Marauder and figured it out, but instead, you’ve let a child replace him as your marksman,” Sarah finished. “You let her replace him.”

“I think it’ll be better for all of us if we focus on the bigger picture for once,” Echo cut in, stepping between the heated pair, turning to Hunter. “Our lives are like this because of Omega. Getting her out of Kamino was the right choice, and now we have to think about how we can do more against the Empire.”

Echo then turned to Sarah, his best friend, whose frown softened when she looked at him. Though Echo wouldn’t always condone the amount of direct hits she was capable of launching at Hunter whenever they fought, he sympathized with her. She’d lost Fives and it had nearly destroyed her—he knew that only from what she told him. He hadn’t been there with her when it happened. And since then, she’d lost her way of life, she was unable to return to her home planet because of the risk of being spotted in the one place she’d be expected to hide in by the Empire, and she’d lost Crosshair, the only one who came close to being the love of her life after Fives.

“Getting Crosshair out of Kamino would have been the right choice as well,” Echo’s tone softened at her. “But that isn’t how it turned out, and as much as it hurts you, there is an entire galaxy outside of him. You can’t let your anger keep you from doing the right thing, Sarah. I know you, and I know you’re bigger and better than that.”

As Sarah looked at Echo, she thought of the amount of times he’d hinted at wanting to do more. It then dawned on her that she had a very clear image of what life would be like after the war, and now, she had no clue. She didn’t know what she wanted, and she couldn’t see any sort of future while Echo seemed to know clearly what his calling was. After Kamino, she figured her life would be drifting through the galaxy, returning to Ord Mantell every so often, and she then realized she wanted anything other than that. What her heart truly yearned for wasn’t possible, and now she had to find something she’d be able to live with.

But at that moment, as she felt the emotions bubbling inside her too much for her to conceal them, all she wanted to do was hide. All Sarah wanted to do was run into the arms of someone who could keep her safe, someone who could protect her, who’d care for her while she cried and mourned everything she had to mourn.

This isn’t freedom.

Before her eyes could fill with tears, she took a step back and breathed in deeply, forcing herself to be stoic a few more seconds. She spoke in a whisper, unable to trust in her own voice, “I’ll be at the cockpit.”

She missed her Y-Wing more than anything at that moment; at least she’d be alone and bothering nobody. Instead, her feet carried her to the cockpit behind the pilot’s chair where Tech was sitting. He didn’t remove his gaze from his datapad while the autopilot was engaged there in the middle of hyperspace, but Sarah knew he was aware of his presence. And with Wrecker asleep in the chair next to him, it felt like enough privacy for her.

Sarah rested her chin on top of the back of the seat and let her body sulk down, lips pouting to silence her sobs as her eyes finally filled with tears. Whether Tech realized she was crying or not didn’t matter to her, in fact, the less questions she had to answer, the better.

But soon, Tech’s hand reached across his body to the left side of the chair where one of Sarah’s hands rested and gently pressed his fingers over hers.

She finally began to silently weep.

*

Staring into the ruined cities of Serenno would fill any bypasser with dread and drain them of all hope they could feel. The sight of ashen buildings and the eerie silence that emanated from the city forced one into staring at it, much like Sarah had caught herself unable to tear her gaze away.

How many innocent people had perished? And for what?

“Sarah?”

A tiny hand nudged the side of Sarah’s arm and managed to bring her attention back to her team, her gaze now falling on the young girl who’d brought her back to reality. Sarah managed a soft smile at Omega; whatever else was happening, Omega’s big brown eyes would always be enough to remind her there was still light in the universe even in the face of something so dire. After all, Omega wasn’t to blame for the galaxy, for Crosshair, for Hunter’s choices—that much would always be clear to her. If there was anything that pained Sarah, it was that Omega still had to be in battle, even if it was usually the kid herself who refused not being there.

After Omega returned Sarah’s smile with a sad one, Sarah looked up at the squad. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame ya,” Wrecker said lowly, his frown audible through the modulators of his helmet. “It looks like hell’s ruins down there.”

“We’re splitting up,” Hunter said similarly.

She looked over at him, remembering what he’d said on the ship. “Right.”

Before heading off with Hunter, Sarah walked over to Tech and met his gaze—it was one of the many times she was grateful that his helmet didn’t cover his eyes with a pitch-black visor, but rather left them visible. Those brown eyes of his had become a source of comfort whenever all she wanted to do was disappear.

She had to acknowledge how fond she was growing of those goggled brown eyes.

“Take care, will you?” Sarah spoke softly.

“You as well,” Tech responded and powered up the holopad in his hands, ready to set out in the direction his part of the squad would take.

On the spot, Sarah turned around trying to acknowledge Hunter. But she found that, for once, he wasn’t already looking at her. Instead, Hunter seemed to be looking over in Tech’s direction, his gaze lingering on the team’s engineer for a while before he looked back at Sarah briefly before turning around and leading the way down into the forest.

Sarah braced for the awkwardness of being left alone with him.

*

Radio silence. That was the course of action after things, as usual, went sideways for Clone Force 99.

Sarah had heard the last transmissions Tech had sent of how they’d been trapped in the cargo container, how their escape was uncertain, how they’d been in a crash-landing. Thinking about it all made her feel cold, with her marks feeling like swirly trails of ice on her skin. A part of her regretted having listened to Hunter and staying with him throughout the mission, now accompanied by Wrecker; and though Omega and Echo were in the same situation, much as she worried about them, she couldn’t help it when Tech was at the top of her worries. She had one of her gut feelings about him, and it wasn’t a particularly good one—if it weren’t such a foolish idea and she didn’t risk her transmission being intercepted, she’d be dialing Tech’s frequency on the spot to check on him.

Sarah was never good at losing touch with those she cared for—it was why she hated splitting up in the first place. And now it was only worse—the mission had gone from going mildly according to plan to having derailed completely, and now, Sarah, Hunter, and Wrecker were scurrying around the ruined streets of the city on Serenno hoping not to be spotted on every corner they turned. The sun was going down and the ruins got darker by the minute. Pretty soon, it would become difficult to see anything.

The trio stopped at the sound of whirring gunship engines approaching. As quickly as they could, they hid under whatever large piece of rubble they could find and waited it out, until the sound of the ships flying over them became louder and then faded once more. That had been the third time they’d had to pause to hide from air forces, and at that point, it was clear that the Empire wasn’t going to rule out the possibility of them being in the city. On the contrary, they were onto them and they knew it.

A modulated sigh came from Hunter as he glanced through his helmet’s visor over at Wrecker and Sarah. He then got down on one knee with his hand brushing the ground only to look up at his two teammates again. “They’re less than one klick away.”

“And we might need more than two blasters and one rifle to hold them off?” Sarah asked.

“It’s a whole platoon, so my answer would be yes,” Hunter said as he got back up. “Wrecker, spot anything we could use?”

Wrecker had begun laughing with excitement when Hunter stopped talking. He then pointed his large hand out eastward saying, “That. That right there. That’s what I want!”

Just as Sarah pulled the scope of the Firepuncher rifle to get a better look at what Wrecker was pointing at, the large clone ran off in a childlike manner. She finally got a better look at the Separatist tanks piled over rubble and debris and understood why Wrecker had been so cheerful about spotting them.

“Do they even work?” Sarah questioned.

“Oh, I’ll handle that!” Wrecker lunged himself into the first tank he reached.

“I’ll stay with him,” Hunter told Sarah. “Can you pick them off from above?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she nodded before turning around and heading for the nearest cliff. After the climb, she had a perfect view of the platoon that was headed their way, and she quickly managed to spot Wrecker and Hunter messing with the tanks, most likely hoping to get one of them to function. She knew that if they didn’t succeed, their bright plan would be a total failure, meaning that was her cue to begin sniping the army of imperial clones.

One by one, with the Firepuncher set to stun, Sarah took down the clones from the front lines to the rear, managing to buy Hunter and Wrecker at least some more time while they figured out what they were doing on their front. It wasn’t long before Wrecker got hold of not one of the tanks, but its cannon. Even being at the top of a cliff sniping, Sarah could hear Wrecker’s laughter booming, preceding the first of the cannon blasts.

And then chaos reigned over the scene. Wrecker steadily advanced, his laughter filling the gaps between the blasts from his new favorite toy—he even made Sarah smile. She would have loved to sit back and watch him, as he clearly wouldn’t need her help anymore, but that was when she heard clone chatter coming up from behind her.

Sarah didn’t have enough time to react. If she had, she probably would have been able to dodge the blaster bolt headed towards her, and in a sloppy attempt to move out of its way, it wound up hitting her on the shin. She cried out as the laser burned through the surface of her skin, the pain searing through her leg as she tried not to fall to the ground. She hooked the rifle onto her back and unholstered her hand blaster instead to stun the first troopers to emerge from the darkness.

“Sarah!” Hunter cried out from below invaded with worry after hearing her cry in pain.

Sarah registered the sound of his voice and the sound of the marching that approached, and she realized her blaster efforts wouldn’t be enough. Too many of them were heading her way, and the same could be said for the troopers down there. They were outnumbered and one marksman down; Sarah wouldn’t be much help in a wounded state. With the amount of troopers cornering her, Sarah looked over her shoulder and realized there was only one way out of that one.

She leapt off the cliff, bending the Force around her hoping to lessen the impact of her fall. While not fatal, the pain from the blast on her thigh worsened when she hit ground level, and it was enough to knock her down with her back against the floor. There, she could process the vibrations of the army through the earth: the platoon in the east, the fraction of it on the cliff, with another pack of reinforcements heading in from the north, not far behind the cliff Sarah had just fallen from.

If they didn’t act fast, they’d be done for.

All Sarah wanted to do was lie on the ground and see the stars plastered on the night sky, but as she did that, she found a couple of rocky vertices on the cliffs that surrounded the area. From that angle, she spotted one she could blast away with her own rifle on the cliff next to her, but for the other one, she’d need Wrecker’s help. They couldn’t take all of those troopers just the three of them, but they could easily stop them from coming with a couple of carefully placed blasts.

“Wrecker,” Sarah spoke into her comm. “See that large spike on the cliff towards the east?”

“Yeah,” Wrecker answered.

“I need you to shoot it,” she said.

“Negative,” Hunter entered the comms. “Where are you, anyway? I can’t see you.”

“I’m safe from whatever debris may fall, if that’s what worries you. I have a plan,” Sarah told him. “Wrecker’s going to take that cliff down, I’ll handle the other one close to me.”

“We don’t know if that’s really going to work,” Hunter debated.

“Will you two stop fighting for once?!” Wrecker boomed into the comm. “Sarah, tell me when.”

“Now!” Sarah cried out.

The next thing she heard was another cannon blast being fired, and she saw the ray of light rising up to the cliff she’d told Wrecker to fire at. When it hit, the rocky cliff exploded into hundreds of rocks and boulders and began making its way downward onto the platoon that cornered Wrecker and Hunter. It was Sarah’s turn after that, and with the strength she had, she pulled through the burning on her shin and stood up, aiming the Firepuncher at the weak point on her own cliff. She set the rifle to kill, figuring the blast would be stronger that way, and focused the crosshair on the medium rock that seemed to hold the cliff in place. Sarah breathed out, steadying herself, and when even the pain of her blast wound disappeared she fired the rifle.

The blast hit exactly where she had intended to, and she sent the cliff collapsing down on the army that had tracked her down, but it created a lot more rubble than she had intended at first—rubble that was now crashing down on her. Quickly as she could, Sarah ran for cover, but she wouldn’t get far in her current state. When the debris nearly hit her, she raised her hands and used the Force to shield herself from any of the rocks, levitating them away from her.

Eventually, the debris stopped falling and it settled around her. Sarah waved her hands in front of her, coughing up all the dirt that had made its way into her lungs.

“Sarah?” Hunter inquired through the comms. “Sarah, come in!”

Sarah finished coughing and pulled her comm up near her lips as she examined the pile of rubble she’d just created, her heart sinking.

“I’m here, I’m alive,” she said. “Though I’m afraid I just created a wall between us, quite literally.”

“Stay put, I’ll go and get you,” Hunter said.

“No,” Sarah replied. “I’m injured and I’m only going to slow you down. You and Wrecker get to the ship, I’ll rendezvous after that.”

“Sarah, no—”

“Hunter!” She raised her voice, caring little for who or what would hear her. “I am telling you this because it’s the best option. For once in your life, listen to what I want and do as I say.”

Silence filled the comms for a moment until she heard him sigh.

“Alright, Wrecker and I will get to the Marauder. But we might need to go radio silent again,” Hunter agreed.

“You know how to find me,” Sarah replied, her tone much softer. She turned her comm off, knowing it would be safer not to use it anymore, and she turned around on her spot to find that she was at the edge of the forest.

Sarah took a few paces and kneeled on the ground, her fingers digging into the soil beneath her. Like she’d done many times before at that point in her life, Sarah began to absorb the life Force of the planet, and slowly, she felt the wound on her shin beginning to close and the pain easing off from her. She let out a long exhale, finally able to release the tension she’d been feeling until that moment, and even her mind cleared.

Now thinking straight and with her hands still pressed to the ground, there was something Sarah could feel through the earth. It was someone close to her, someone dear to her, but he was slower. Weakened. Vulnerable.

Tech.

She knew better than to not pay any mind to it, and if she could feel him that clearly, he couldn’t have been that far from her. If he was injured too, she’d have to hurry. Through the earth, Sarah focused on him until she was able to know exactly where he was. With that clear, Sarah prepped the rifle in front of her and set off running in his direction.

No troopers or traps were found as she ran through the forest, and though it felt like she’d been running for ages, it finally wasn’t long before she heard the sound of blasters and speeder bikes. She could still feel Tech’s presence—as long as she could feel him there, everything would be alright—and when she felt she was close enough to still remain hidden, she stopped and aimed the rifle.

Through the scope, she could see Tech. He was standing, but his posture was slightly hunched over. It wasn’t until she saw him moving that he noticed he was limping, and he pulled his blaster out to stun a trooper before hiding behind the trunk of a tree. Sarah then located the troopers that were cornering, and without thinking about it, she aimed the Firepuncher at one of them and fired.

She didn’t bother changing it back to stun.

When the trooper fell, she fired at another one. The last one that crept up on Tech did so a tad too quickly, but Sarah saw through the scope that Tech fired his blaster at the trooper, stunning him to the ground. After that, Tech wobbled and fell down to the ground himself.

“Tech!” Sarah cried and pulled the rifle down and ran the remaining distance between her and him. When she reached him, she collapsed to the ground next to him and took him in his arms, and even in the darkness of the forest, she saw his brown eyes glistening with the faint light as he looked at her.

“Sarah…” Tech sighed. “I am hurt.”

She then looked at his leg and noticed the swelling and the unnatural angle it had. She felt her blood going cold at the sight of his broken leg, but more than that, her heart broke for him. She’d never fathomed the idea of Tech being hurt before, and it felt wrong, like it should never even be a possibility.

“Tech…” Sarah whimpered, her hand reaching for the cheek of his helmet. “Let’s get you out of here. Where are Echo and Omega?”

“Over the cliff,” Tech grunted in pain after speaking the words. “Omega went to the chest and Echo followed her.”

“And where is the chest?”

“Over the cliff,” Tech repeated. “At a very inconvenient precipice, might I add.”

“I could help with that,” a third, unfamiliar voice filled the area.

Sarah didn’t hesitate to react. She pulled the rifle and aimed it at the stranger, but she kept herself from pulling the trigger when she saw it wasn’t a soldier or anyone who even looked Imperial. It was an old man, a friendly-looking one, at that, who raised his hands above his head when she aimed the Firepuncher at him.

“Sarah, he’s a friend,” Tech told her.

“Ah,” said the old man. “So this is the famous Sarah.”

She lowered the rifle, releasing any tension she held. “Who are you?”

“Romar Adell, at your service,” the man lowered his hands. “Don’t worry, I mean you no harm.”

Sarah lowered the rifle, humbled by the fact that Tech had mentioned her in the short time they’d been apart. “Can you help me get him up?”

Romar paced towards her and secured Tech’s left side while she took the right, and together they helped him up to standing.

“I told you that you wouldn’t get too far in your current state,” Romar told Tech. “Now stay here, Ace.”

Sarah’s features softened and she looked at Tech. “Ace?”

Tech locked eyes with her, and beneath his goggles, his gaze softened at her as well. The tenderness in her voice was undeniable, as was the vulnerability in the word she’d spoken.

“A coincidence,” Tech told her.

“Excuse me?” Romar inquired.

“Someone we care about used to call her that,” Tech explained.

Before Sarah could allow herself to feel any more emotion, the loud roaring of engines filled the area around the forest. What was alarming about that was that it was not the sound of the Marauder. Sarah recognized it as the sound of V-Wings.

“There’s a speeder bike and a cable we can use to get your friends out of the chest,” Romar looked at Sarah.

“Why don’t I give some cover, and you can get them out?” She said.

“I don’t mean to disrespect you,” Romar hesitated, “but how are you going to cover us against fighter ships?”

Sarah held the Firepuncher up. “Target practice.” She then looked over at Tech. “You stay here, I don’t want your leg getting any more hurt than it already is.”

“I suppose telling you it cannot get much worse will not change your mind?” Tech asked her.

“Stay here,” Sarah reaffirmed, and with a look over at Romar, she gestured it was time to follow through with their improvised plan.

The two ran nearer to the cliff where the trees cleared out; Romar attached the long cable coiled at the edge to the lonely speeder bike and got on it, putting its thruster in reverse at max speed. While Sarah felt hopeful she’d see Echo and Omega again soon and safe, she locked her sights on the first of the V-Wings that approached at a daunting speed.

Keeping track of the fighter ship seemed more difficult to do through the Firepuncher’s scope, and steady as she was, Sarah fired and missed up to three bolts.

Focus, she told herself. Planting her feet more firmly on the ground, Sarah inhaled deeply and looked down the scope once more. Much to her fortune, that first V-Wing seemed to be approaching her directly, making it easier for her to aim at the ship’s cockpit. Before giving it the chance to move anymore, Sarah pulled the rifle’s trigger, sending the bolt straight through the middle of the cockpit.

The ship spiraled out of control and crashed on the ground in flames, and upon impact, Sarah felt the icy cold sensation returning to her marks. Though unpleasant, she paid no mind to it at the moment. She couldn’t when there were another two V-Wings threatening her and her family.

Just as Sarah was aiming for the next ship, she heard the familiar whirring of the Marauder approaching. The modified Omicron-class attack shuttle rarely looked so beautiful as it did at that moment, and it quickly outmaneuvered the V-Wings enough to give the rear turret a clear shot, sending the second one crashing down.

Only one remained.

“We need to go now,” Hunter said through comms. “Can you take the other one down while we make an approach?”

Sarah pulled the comm near her lips. “I sure hope so. Make your move.”

Being so focused on the last V-Wing, Sarah hardly even noticed when Echo and Omega emerged safely from the cliff. They grouped behind her and waited for the Marauder to approach as well as for Tech to emerge from the forest aided by Romar, and now that they were all together, there was only one priority left. The Marauder made the approach and its platform opened, revealing Wrecker.

“Sarah?” Hunter spoke through the comms again, audibly worried.

“Hang on…” Sarah whispered, aiming for the ship.

It was moving directly towards the Marauder. At that angle, she wouldn’t have a clear shot like she did with the first one, and it was too close a call to mess it up. She’d have better odds of taking it down if she aimed for the engines. She calculated the speed at which it moved, angled herself, and when the time was right, Sarah fired the rifle and the blue bolt flew through the air until it impacted the ship’s engine, and it spiraled down crashing into the war chest below, and a heap of rubble, smoke, and flames fell down to the lower levels of the forest.

“Nice shot,” Hunter said.

Sarah put the rifle away and turned around as Echo and Omega climbed onto the Marauder. Sarah supported Tech as he tried to stand, and the two faced Romar, realizing it was time to say goodbye.

“Thank you for helping him,” Sarah told him with a slight bow of her head.

“Don’t mention it,” Romar answered. “You’ve got some skill and decent firepower despite that just being a rifle. Do me a favor and make it count.”

The words resonated with Sarah, and for a moment, she thought back to what Echo was saying about doing more. Seeing that Romar lived on Serenno, she figured he of all people had cause to hate the Empire, to be tired of tyranny and destruction. She thought of her own reasons to hate the Empire, and with resolve, she nodded.

“I will,” she said.

Romar then looked at Tech. “Take care, Ace. Or I’ll ask her to take care of you.”

“Don’t worry,” Sarah smiled. “He’ll be safe on my watch.”

Romar nodded at her and Tech, and finally, it was time for them to go. Echo and Wrecker held their arms out to help Tech onto the ship, and once he was safely in, Sarah jumped in. As the Marauder took off, Sarah managed one more salute at Romar before the ship’s platform closed, and wishing him well, they were now on course to leave Serenno.

Sarah rested the Firepuncher rifle on the wall after locking its safety pin, and quickly, she ran over to one of the passenger seats in the cockpit where Tech was sitting and getting his leg examined by Echo. She kneeled on the durasteel floor and reached for his hand, giving him a gentle squeeze with her fingers.

“I’m here,” Sarah told him.

Tech grunted in pain, but he managed a smile. “You know, seeing you emerge from the forest like that, I figure that’s what other clone captains and commanders would feel when seeing their Jedi general amidst battle… before the end of the war, at least.”

Sarah grinned. “Yeah, well, you could never hurt me.”

The slightest hint of a smile appeared on Tech’s lips before he groaned in pain, squeezing Sarah’s hand even harder.

“This will just last a bit,” Echo reassured.

“It is customary to provide painkillers before making any limb adjustments,” Tech began. “Although, given the urgency of this fracture and the need to provide treatment, I would understand the lack of reason behind waiting for painkillers to set in, though I certainly wouldn’t complain. After all, it’s not as if I have not waited long enough already. Several hours have already passed since the incident.”

“You should have given him the painkillers first,” Wrecker nudged Echo.

“Leave him alone,” Sarah defended. “I think the infodumping as a pain management technique is adorable.”

“You think droids are adorable,” Wrecker pouted.

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker continued to bicker, and all the while, Sarah realized she hadn’t let go of Tech’s hand. There was no problem. She found that she didn’t want to let go of his hand anyway.

Sarah did, however, notice a set of eyes looking at her hand in Tech’s, and rather than focusing on flying the Marauder, they were laden with sorrow and with jealousy. Then, Hunter finally looked Sarah in the eyes. She maintained eye contact with him before finally averting her gaze and gave Tech’s hand one last squeeze before getting up.

“I’ll look around the ship and see what we can use to stabilize that let,” Sarah said. She then walked away from the cockpit and made her way towards the back of the ship, where Omega was sitting with her trooper doll in her hands. Her big eyes looked at Sarah, and the usual warmth of her smile made Sarah realize how cold her marks still felt.

“That was some really good shooting, Sarah,” Omega said. “I…”

Omega looked over at the Firepuncher resting on the wall, and then she looked at Sarah again. “I think Crosshair would say the same too.”

The hole in Sarah’s chest deepened at the mention of his name as multiple thoughts swarmed through her mind. Crosshair, Tech, Tech’s injury, the fact that Sarah had just ended the lives of multiple troopers. Still, the sight of Omega smiling at her eased some of that. If a child as pure and kind as Omega could still look upon Sarah and smile, she maybe didn’t have anything to feel terrible about.

Eventually, Sarah found it in herself to chuckle. “Nah, Crosshair would be teasing the hell out of me. It’s his way of showing love.”

“Well, then…” Omega continued. “We should find him and tell him about today. See how he reacts.”

Sarah looked straight at Omega. She refused to use the child to convince Hunter to go after Crosshair again—she wouldn’t open that can of worms again. However, after Kamino, Sarah hadn’t really thought of seeing Crosshair again.

It had really felt like the end at one point.

“We should,” Sarah agreed.

Omega smiled and put her doll aside. “Can I help out with Tech?”

“You sure you want to do that?” Sarah asked her. “It’s not going to be a pretty sight.”

“I know, but I can handle it,” Omega replied. “I was in the medical wing before we met, remember?”

Yet another reminder that hit Sarah like a training bolt. Sometimes, all she wanted to do was think of Omega as a child, not as anything else.

Sarah gave as cheerful a smile as she could manage. “Right.”

Omega jumped off her chair and went to look for a couple of steel rods she knew happened to be lying about the ship, and with excitement, ran off to the cockpit to aid Tech. Sarah stood in the empty midsection of the Marauder thinking about what would come next.

But, for now at least, Tech needed her with him. She’d have more than enough time to begin her own quest when they returned to Ord Mantell.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to support me!

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Next Chapter ->

[tennco]

Yukari Yakumo and music

i'm not one to think much about yukari tbh, but something that always stood out for me was her music themes. far from being my favorites but they do a great job at communicating what her character is, or at least how she appears to anyone else who meets her.

they all have this imposing and oppressive air about them, fitting for miss sage of gensokyo, one of the most powerful youkai to exist, whose mere presence strikes fear into those of lesser will. the way i see it, in a way she kinda is the embodiment of fear, the fear of youkai, of the night, of the unknown. Night Falls ~ Evening Star i think is the best at conveying this feeling, most of the song using dissonance to that end, specially with all the piano hits. it's disorienting, it's tense. but then you get to the chorus and it's a bit of a different story, a lot more majestic, overwhelming almost, like we know she's the kind to use underhanded methods to get what she wants but she can actually back it up should it reach that point. it's a battle you can't win, or at least one you can't win in a meaningful way. there's no point in opposing her. i don't have much to say about the arrangement in AoCF, it's the same turned up to 11. and it goes hard.

her original theme Necrofantasia goes full force into that latter feeling. it's just completely overbearing, suffocating, like you don't even have time to process the threat in front of you, to comprehend what's going on. i think a lot of that comes from the bass because god fucking knows what that bass is doing. but also more obviously with the synth playing the melody which, at times almost drowns out the rest of the song entirely. the version from Magical Astronomy is the one i prefer most of the time, and i think it's because its new parts emphasize yet another aspect of the song: it's almost like she's showing off at times. showing off not only what she can do but also what she already did: creating the world of gensokyo, creating a paradise for youkai, for everything and everyone who has been forgotten. they say someone truly dies only once they're forgotten so, what if we were to prevent that? what if we made a world where beings and concepts can be remembered and thus, live on forever? maybe that's what a necrofantasia is.

Yorimashi Between Dreams and Reality ~ Necro-fantasia deserves a mention too, it's probably the less talked about of yukari's themes. technically an arrangement of Necrofantasia, but i think it's just a perfect blend of that and Evening Star. you have the mystery, the tension, the overwhelming show of power. and yet in contrast to the original, when the chorus hits it's under a more sinister light. i think by this point we already well know how yukari acts and what she's about, so she has nothing to hide now, there's no reason to conceal anything. or is there? something that stands out to me is how desperate it sounds too, like now it's yukari who's losing the fight.... but then it ends on a, somewhat distorted major chord, a picardy third. it's like she's trying to make you think she's at a disadvantage, only to come out on top at the end... which is, exactly what happens in AoCF as a matter of fact. and what has happened in other occasions as well.

anyways that was a long post. i talked about yukari's themes in the past but never elaborated on it so, here ya go! here's all i can think of for now.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 4 - Post #5: Wish You Were Here [M]

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

GIF by kpfun

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 3.8K (fifth post in Volume 4)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

_______________________________

V. Blessed Mother, grant me the clarity of wisdom! You are currently facing one of life’s most consistent yet challenging dilemmas. It’s the tension between two competing impulses. Your deeply ingrained sense of practicality versus how fucking horny you feel right now. 

Should you drop everything and immediately head for the Razor Crest? This hour of the day is undoubtedly your best chance to sneak out while everyone’s still asleep and reunite with your favorite family in the galaxy before anyone notices what you’re up to. 

Or do you yield to vanity? This option means time to wash your hair, put on a little makeup, and dig through Humia’s clothes for something that doesn’t make you look like a sack of potatoes. It’s a waste of daylight, but after eighteen days apart, you’d like to remind the Mandalorian what an absolute smoke show he’s been missing. 

Like, maybe he would sigh very profoundly, so overcome with emotion at the mere sight of you? Okay, sure—it’s Mando—he’s not going to run across a meadow to sweep you up in his arms. But if he gasped your name longingly while threading his fingers through your hair, it would do a lot for your self-esteem.  

All gods divine and merciful, you are levitating with excitement! He’s back, you clasp your hands to your heart. He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. You occupy the same atmosphere. There’s a buoyancy, lifting every footstep as you practically skip up to your front door, throwing it open as though about to burst into song.  

“Oh shit!” Upon entering the hut, you see Serenio enfolded in Davik’s arms. Their foreheads are pressed together, with his long black curls spilling over her lekku. They immediately spring apart like lovelorn teenagers. Which, you recall, they are at seventeen and nineteen, respectively.  

You look between them, watching as they struggle to suppress their ragged breathing. Guess their fake romance isn’t so fake anymore. Maybe Serenio wouldn’t mind getting stuffed into a cleaning cart with Davik? 

Damnit, this was going to make everyone’s sleeping arrangements infinitely more awkward. The hut is comprised of a single room. And while there are some partitions....you, Humia, Davik, and Serenio all sleep feet apart from each other on the floor every night. 

Shit, really? Well, at least romance is working out for someone. It’s sweet. Young love. You’re happy for them. Truly. Did this create a needless distraction? Absolutely. But who are you to judge? You’re about to hike an hour through the woods in the hopes of fucking your boss.

“Want to train with us?” Serenio signs before awkwardly busying herself with rearranging the furniture. 

That’s right! Humia had forbidden them from entering the fighting pits.

TaggeCo employees loved to haunt the encampment’s cantinas and drinking halls. Sometimes, management brought in musical performances for cultural enrichment, but let’s be real—the Lakarani are the true source of entertainment around here.

You have to agree with Humia. It’s far too risky. One of those Tagge corpos might recognize Serenio while she kicked the shit out of someone twice her size and begin to wonder just where their cleaning lady learned to land a punch like that. 

I guess the obvious solution is turning our living room into a training gym?  

“Yeah, you should spar with us, Kas,” Davik agrees. He’s completely serious, despite being so flustered you can see his brown cheeks visibly blushing. “We were just making some room.”

They’d already changed out of their TaggeCo uniforms. Davik is dressed for movement, and Serenio has her knuckles wrapped. 

They both practically vibrate with restless energy. Although, that could simply be a side effect of all this latent sexual tension. Do warriors consider sparring a kind of foreplay?

You’ve got to get out of here before you completely kill the mood. 

“Hmm,” the corners of your mouth tug. “Thanks, but no,” you sign, shifting so that Serenio can read your lips. “I don’t spar.” 

“Ubaa said you were a veteran. What kind of soldier doesn’t train?” Davik seems genuinely confused. “You work through all those fighting stances every morning.”

“I do meditative poses for my blood pressure, Davik. Believe me, hand-to-hand combat skills are not what I’m bringing to this operation.”

“What about self-defense? I can train you. You’re surprisingly strong. I’ve seen you carrying laundry from the wash house,” he says appraisingly. Then, a look of horror crosses his face. “Not that I’m watching—”

“I’m going for a walk,” you sign. “Need a bath.” 

What follows is quite possibly the most awkward silence you’ve ever endured as they both study your every movement, packing toiletries and spare clothing, determinedly not looking at each other. 

“Hey!” a thought occurs to you. “Humia says there’s a bonfire down at the jetty tonight for Honatoka. It sounds like fun. We have the night off. You guys should come.”

At that, they exchange a glance, faces flushed.

“Yeah,” Davik nods. “Do…you want to go?” he signs, asking Serenio.

“Okay,” she shrugs, breaking into a wide smile.

And that’s your good deed for the day! You’ll just have to be mindful to knock very loudly before opening the front door from now on.

**********

It’s true—you’re stronger than you look. Novitiate discipline in the palace temple helped you develop a lot of muscle mass at an early age. For whatever reason, monastic life seems to require climbing an ungodly amount of stairs regardless of which religion you serve. 

That being said, you’re a far cry from elite bounty hunter. Davik might have a point about strength training. By the time you’ve climbed the pine tree and made it over the perimeter wall, you’ve got both hands on your knees, panting for breath. 

It’s a lot of effort to avoid passing through the main gate, but you can’t shake the feeling of paranoia as you set out to meet with your co-conspirators. Best to avoid any questions about where you’re headed.

When word of Emperor Palpatine’s death reached the Metatessu sector, Lakarani independence fighters did not wait for Imperials to develop an exit strategy. They immediately seized all the military outposts, along with the mining operations and refinery. Without available reinforcements to take back control of the planet, Imperial forces abandoned Lakaran.  

While fighters had expelled the Empire, they did not succeed in keeping Lakaran free from foreign influence. The planet was now considered part of Hutt Space, and Yarella the Hutt leased Larakan’s mining rights and coaxium production to the Tagge Corporation. 

But their siege and occupation of the refinery against Imperial forces was the stuff of legends. Literally—images of the martyred fighters could be found in every home, along with altars dedicated to the fallen. 

It’s why the Tagge family made sure to invest in a robust security infrastructure when they took over. 

So, another convenient feature of the retaining wall they’d built around the encampment to prevent mudslides is that it created limited access points in and out of the camp. These gates could be barricaded if necessary, sealing everyone inside. Drones and satellites monitored the area from overhead. 

All in the name of safety. If someone working at the plant was exposed to radioactive material, Tagge Corp claimed they would need to track the population for containment. Of course, all you had to do was look at the river to know the Tagge Corporation didn’t give a fuck about contaminating people with toxic materials. 

The transponder on your wrist tracks everywhere you go. All they had to do was locate your signal, and a team of TaggeCo security could show up at your door and drag you off under the pretext of “containment.”

Tampering with the device was a fireable offense. If you wanted work, you submitted to their surveillance. 

It wasn’t so much that your movements were scrutinized, but they did get documented, which could cause trouble for you later if TaggeCo got suspicious. They might start to wonder why you went hiking through the woods before dawn, who you were meeting with, and a lot of other dangerous questions. 

In a stroke of luck (and probably his dick), the security guard Humia was sleeping with had shown her how to mask the transponder’s signal without damaging it. Still, vigilance costs nothing. You’ve packed your rucksack and draped a towel over your shoulders. If anyone sees you…hopefully, they’ll assume you’re visiting the hot springs nearby. 

Coordinates popping up on your communicator showed the Razor Crest’s location about two leagues northeast of the refinery. 

Again, just terrible bounty hunter skills—you have no idea how to read a topographic map and are forced to backtrack more times than you’re comfortable admitting. How did Mando do this without walking in circles? 

Eventually, you give up trying to navigate the map and just climb the highest tree you can find to look out over the valley. 

There she is! You spot Razoria—which is what Nito called the ship when he needed her to cooperate—settled under a rocky outcrop amidst a shallow marsh at the edge of an alpine lake. You’d been so caught up thinking about Mando and the kids, you’re surprised by the overwhelming sense of relief that wells up inside you just looking at the ship. 

For the first time since you boarded the shuttle for Lakaran you feel…safe. When did you start to think of the Razor Crest as home? 

These weeks on Lakaran might be the longest you’ve been in one place since you stepped onboard the Crest. Wanderlust had been the most enticing part of Nito’s pitch to join them, shuffling the Child across the galaxy. You’ve already seen more star systems in the past five months than your seven-year career in the military. And every night, you slept on board this gorgeous clunker. 

With each new planet, a voice would emerge from your subconscious telling you to make a run for it. Now, the voice would say. Run now before it’s too late. But you’d grown so tired of running away. You wanted to run toward something. And you did—you are—running home to this new family of yours.

The Crest had good cover under the rock and surrounding treeline, but her hull gleamed brightly in the early morning light. While TaggeCo didn’t patrol this far into the mountains, drones or satellites might pick up the glare. The Mandalorian should have some camouflage netting in storage. Tree branches would do the rest.

Nito and the kid are stretched out in the sunshine, lounging on the shore of the lake. As soon as he notices your approach, the Ardennian launches into a gallop. 

“Thuli!” He wraps all four arms around you in a fierce hug. 

You drop to your knees to join his embrace. On the shore, you see the kid waving his hands excitedly.

“Hey, little man!” You lift him up and place him on your hip. “Did you miss me?” 

The Child slowly blinks those enormous brown eyes and rests his downy head against your chest. Your heart melts a little when he gurgles contentedly. 

It felt so good to be back together again. All that’s missing is… 

“Mando’s not here,” Nito says, catching you searching for him. “After we landed, he headed straight for Yarella’s castle in Palmal.”

“Yarella’s…?”

As an added precaution, you’d boarded the shuttle to Lakaran directly from Daiyu in case anyone from the Tagge Corporation followed up on you. While Humia had been rude and irritable when she met you at Palmal Spaceport, you were deeply grateful for her presence at your side. 

In ten years of travel, you’ve never seen a city less organized. Palmal was carved deep into the mountainside. Its warren-like sprawl of metallic buildings and tubular walkways made it impossible to see ahead in any direction.

Each step felt claustrophobic and dangerous. Which it is! With all the twisting paths and sharp turns, the city’s layout was an ideal hunting ground for bandits.

It made perfect sense why the executives and TaggeCo employees all lived on-site in dormitories and residential halls. Why, despite being poisoned, the Lakarani preferred camping in clapboard shacks surrounding the refinery. You were less likely to get your throat slit.

And looming above the lawless chaos, coiling upward in a gleaming steel spire, is Yarella the Hutt’s castle.

“Why would he do that?”

Mando certainly didn’t need the money. Did the man not know what else to do with himself? Did his life hold no purpose beyond battle and hunting? You can feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. How could that be his priority when you haven’t seen each other in weeks?

“I think he wanted to have some cover for why we’re here on Lakaran,” Nito shrugs. “You know, big scary Mandalorian in your backyard makes people nervous. Yarella will probably have a job for him.” 

Without pausing to take off your clothes, you shrug off the rucksack, step out of your boots, and wade into the lake.

“Uh, Thuli–”

You dive into the water before Nito can see you crying. 

Mando’s not here. You don’t care about the rationale or logic of his decision. He couldn’t wait one fucking day—one fucking hour—to see you?

The crushing weight of disappointment that he’s not here—that he couldn’t care less about being here to see you—feels inescapable, like the pull of an anchor dragging you down toward the murky depths. You kick your legs out in frustration, but you can’t swim. You can’t breathe. You just sob, choking as frigid water fills your mouth and subsumes your tears.

Why would he do this? You thought you’d offered him the perfect arrangement. The perfect companion and sexual partner. Instead, you’ve been blown off and left behind.

Mando doesn’t let many people in. So you would have thought that what you shared together…a...a connection—

Fuck—a connection? You know, in your bones, he’s never shared that kind of intimacy and tenderness with anyone else. You would’ve thought it mattered more to him.

Apparently not.

Was this your fault? Before leaving for Lakaran, he’d asked about what to tell the kids, and you said something like, “This doesn’t have to change anything.” You didn’t want to burden him with worry over love, duty, and Creeds. 

Was it the wrong thing to say? Should you have confessed that your heart belonged to him and no one else? Would he be here if you had? Maybe he was simply taking you at your word—that what you’d shared didn’t change anything.      

The truly heartbreaking realization is that as angry as you feel toward Mando, the real person you’re angry with is yourself. You’d told him he didn’t need to change, but you still expected him to. Are you really such a narcissist that you thought having sex with you one time would be such a transformative experience he’d wake up a completely different person?

It had been three times. Regardless, you’re not being fair. You want to storm and rage. But what good will it do? You’ve fallen for a man whose life is encased in cold steel.  

Hadn’t you prayed for clarity and wisdom? It won’t heal the hurt breaking your heart to pieces or soothe your anger, but you’ve got to temper these feelings with honesty, for him and yourself. 

Stepping out of the lake and back onto the shore, you peel off your wet clothes and join the baby, catching tadpoles in the shallow waters and swallowing them whole. 

It’s a beautiful day. You’ve got the whole morning to spend with these two wonderful kids you deeply cherish. Who’s absence had also weighed on your heart these past eighteen days. Why spoil this precious time together? 

For being a nosy adolescent, Nito very graciously ignores your red, swollen eyes and doesn’t ask what’s wrong.

“I’m about a minute from eating some of those mud-guppies myself,” he moans, watching the Child slurp down handfuls. “We’re down to broth and hardtack.”

“Well, let’s catch some fish,” you offer. 

“I don’t know how," Nito murmurs. "You can’t eat anything from the harbor in Coronet City, so I never thought to learn. Do you think I can actually, like, catch a one? With…my hands?”

“Come on, city slicker, I’ll teach you.”

“Do you have a hook? Isn’t that how they do it?”

“Yes," you chuckle. "You can also use a net or a basket. But I’ll show you how to spear a fish. I’m sure Mando has a spear somewhere in that arsenal.”

Even better, the Mandalorian has a ranseur, which is basically a fancy trident. Nito’s eyes widen in horror.  

“Won’t Mando be mad if we get fish guts on his spear?”

“Fuck’im,” you say darkly, without pause.

Nito looks askance at your embittered tone.

“What? It’s not made of Beskar.”

His brow remains furrowed, “I want to learn about the baskets.”

After scouring the Razor Crest for all the necessary tools, you camp out on the shore, braiding fishing baskets from the tall reed grass surrounding the lake. “Did you learn how to do this in the war? So you wouldn’t starve?”

“What?” you laugh, showing Nito how to strip the reeds for cordage. “No, I learned to fish as a child.”

“I thought you grew up in a palace?”

“That came later. I moved to the palace when I was your age.” 

Moved to the palace is a very polite way to describe being abducted and held hostage against your will. But you’re committed to keeping the vibes positive this morning, so you leave that out. Nito’s childhood was no picnic either.

“Before the palace, I lived with my family in a house by the beach. So we fished. You grew up on Corellia, so you learned engines.”

“Hmm…you are terrible with technology. But this is pretty cool. We’re really gonna catch fish in this thing?”

“With a rock and some patience, we will,” you wink at him, tying off your knots. “Here, you carry the baskets, and I’ll get the kid.” 

About an hour later, you’ve caught at least a dozen fish. And it’s impossible to feel anything but pride seeing the joy on Nito’s face. You show him how to clean and scale the big ones. Baby chomps down the rest. “Hey, kiddo. Close your mouth when you chew.”

“Are you staying to eat these?” Nito asks. “Or do you have to go back?”

“I think we should spend the rest of the morning camouflaging the ship. You can tell me all about your adventures on Coruscant while we work. But first, I need a nap.”

You tell yourself this is not a ploy—that you’re not stalling for time in the hopes of seeing the Mandalorian when he returns. But that’s a lie.

Nito suddenly grows fidgety. “I—um. I should maybe tell you that Mando’s been sleeping in there.”

“What?”

“In the sleeping compartment. Not at first. You know how he usually sleeps with his back against a wall or something? But then…” Nito trails off. “I just thought you should know.”  

Damnit, your heart starts racing. The Mandalorian has been sleeping in your bed. Your mind leaps to a million possible reasons, yet what else could it mean? 

A wide smile tugs at your lips. And you’d begun to wonder if he missed you at all. 

“Thanks for telling me.”

Standing in front of the sleeping compartment, your body is awash with nervous anticipation. Over what, you have no idea. Just that…

When the door slides up with a faint whine of compressed air, you stare down at the bedroll and gasp. On top of your blankets is a brightly patterned piece of cloth. You pick it up—the fabric is so soft and diaphanous that it slips through your fingers like falling water. 

Free of its delicate folds, you realize it’s a stunning silk robe.  

In his eagerness to undress you, the Mandalorian had torn the hem of your (old) robe, pulling it over your head. It’s so old, tattered, and threadbare that you told him not to worry about it.

This one is elegant, with a beautiful print—pale pink, with butterflies in shades of blue and lavender. Like moondust, you smile. You remember telling Nito about the butterflies on Hapes that migrated along the coast and converged in the palace gardens. Was it a coincidence, or had Mando been listening? 

It might be one of the most beautiful gifts you’ve received from…anyone. 

Mando had left it folded neatly on top of the bedroll, knowing you'd come back to the ship. Kriffing hell, why hadn’t he just waited for you?

Ugh! How could one man be so generous and insensitive at the same time?!

You groan and throw yourself onto the blankets—which, of course, smell like him. You bury your face into the covers to breathe in his scent. The warm, smokey fragrance of the muscle salve he used. The tang of leather and the musk of his sweat. 

It’s a scent tied to your memories—distracting fever dreams of his tongue trailing the curve of your throat, the soft brush of his lips on your collarbone, his warm breath against the shell of your ear. 

You will absolutely not cry and masturbate over this man yet again. Once was a tragedy. Twice is a habit.

But even now, in your mind’s eye, he was kissing you, his mouth sliding down your neck, drinking in your skin, your bodies tangled up together as he moved inside you. Each caress of silk against your nipples is a reminder of his lips.

Had it been like this for him? Were you in his thoughts when he slept in this bed? Did Mando touch himself and think of you? 

You close your eyes and trace your hand down your stomach toward the heat pooling between your thighs. At least there’s no tears in your eyes this time.

When you open them, your imagination conjures the Mandalorian here with you, kneeling between your legs to watch your fingers work. He joins you, drawing his cock into his hand, stroking himself with long, languorous pulls. 

It’s an abstract fantasy since you’ve never seen his face—but you imagine holding each other’s gazes.

His eyes would be...brown. Definitely brown. The hairs trailing down Mando's smooth, muscular stomach are dark and coarse. His powerful body is taut and beautiful—broad shoulders, tapered waist, and thick, sinewy thighs. You would stare into each other's eyes, stroking in rhythm as your breathing quickens, moans rising together. 

You writhe on top of the covers, this vision of him fixed in your mind. His lips slightly parted as he breathes harder and faster, fist tight around his shaft, the dark head of his cock sliding back and forth within his grip. When he did that, here, on this bed, he was remembering you.

Then you think back to the moment he first plunged inside you, that first shock of penetration. His satisfied groan, your own desperate cry.

You keep replaying that—over and over again, the first time every time, your fingers moving as fast as he could thrust—until your orgasm hits you so hard the world goes white. Your eyes roll back in the rush of release. Everything is blurred and humming, and you’re lost to the pulsing of your heart and your cunt.

You lay there a few moments, expecting to feel his body pressed against you in the aftermath, but…Mando’s gone. He's not here.

And when you finally wake up hours later, he still hasn’t returned.

**************

Continue reading: Volume 4-Post #6: Count Your Blessings

Back to Volume 4 - all posts

[sweetsmollthings]

Ok so with my post about external shrinking triggers I did keep thinking on it more and wrote something……

Contains: shrinking in spurts, triggered by keywords; shrinking to about 5’3”; shrinking to about 3’6”; shrinking to 3”; an almost-kidnapping; a rescue; fear and angst; probably inaccurate grocery store things (because the author has never worked in customer service jobs)

“Ah—!”

Paige jolted, then looked towards the neighboring cashier. “Val? Are you—?”

“Don’t talk to me,” Val snapped, yanking out her earbuds much too fast (which she clearly regretted, judging from how she winced) and fumbling with her phone. Paige faintly heard a snippet of whatever she was listening to (something about miniatures?) before she finally managed to turn it off.

Paige frowned. The brusque attitude wasn’t unexpected—in all the time they had worked together, Val had always avoided talking to coworkers and customers alike, pointedly keeping her earbuds on to drown out everybody else. She probably took the late night shift to interact with as few people as possible (which, fair); even so, Paige would have liked some appreciation. She considered leaving her alone as requested.

…But the way that Val curled up, clutching her phone tight, breathing much too fast, was too concerning to ignore.

“Hey,” Paige said softly, moving closer. “Deep breaths, alright? Let’s calm down—wait, why are you so short??”

Maybe that was a strange thing to focus on for what was clearly a panic attack, but when someone was a whole head shorter than they should be, how could you not comment on it?

And, when someone got even shorter right before your eyes, could you blame a person for getting derailed? “Wha— huh??? What??? You—“

“Shut up,” Val hissed, shooting out a hand to presumably cover Paige’s mouth, but clearly misjudging the distance because she ended up bopping Paige on the chin instead. Her short sleeves billowed with the movement. Her other hand held a now too-big shirt to her chest. “Just—go away! I’m taking a break—“ Val suddenly grabbed her pants in the middle of turning around, stopping them from falling. Paige saw her ears go red.

“I, um,” Paige stuttered, then wordlessly retreated to her cash register and tried to be normal about this. Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare…

It was impossible. Paige snuck a glance and startled, at first thinking that Val had gotten even smaller, but no. She was just crouching down. Hiding, probably.

Paige hesitated, then reached over to turn off Val’s checkstand light.

After a very quiet half hour, Val stood up again. Full height, this time. She glared at Paige. “Don’t say a word. To anyone.”

Paige nodded. (Not like anybody would believe her.) “So…about all that…”

But Val was already plugging in her earbuds, back to tuning out the world.

…Well. Probably best not to pry.

-

After that incident, Val seemed to put extra effort into avoiding Paige at all costs. Which wasn’t difficult, especially since Paige decided to not pursue the many questions she had. Whatever happened, it wasn’t any of her business. Maybe it never happened in the first place. Maybe she had been dreaming or delirious—never mind that she had felt totally awake—after all, shrinking was obviously impossible.

The unspoken arrangement worked out well. At least until one day, passing by the bathroom door, someone grabbed Paige’s arm.

Screeching, she swung a fist towards the offender and only hit the door (ow). As she nursed her hand, she actually looked at the door and saw Val peeking from behind it. At a much lower angle than she should be. Like, way lower. “Change the song,” she begged, which was…sorta creepy, actually.

“Huh?” Paige said, still trying to reconcile Val’s current impossible height and shift in demeanor.

“On the PA, stupid!” she hissed. (Ah, there we go.) But it turned into a whimper as, all of a sudden, she shot down a few inches. Above them, the speakers cheerfully sang, “a little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side…”

“R-right! Hang on,” Paige said, running to the office. Somehow, she managed to make it before the chorus ended.

When she ran back, the bathroom door was closed again. She knocked. “It’s me. Are you…okay?”

The only answer was a clumsy click as the door opened again. Val peeked out, definitely much shorter. Child-sized, even. She clearly had to reach up for the door handle and looked miserable about that fact. “Thanks,” she mumbled. Then, “I need you to help me home.”

Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, Paige crouched down. “Can’t you just grow back? You did last time.”

“It’s past midnight,” Val explained bitterly. “I’m stuck like this for now. Just get me home. You have a car, don’t you? It’s just a…quick drive.”

“But my shift isn’t over,” Paige said, then realized how ridiculous that was in this context. “Um. Okay. Just…follow me, I guess.”

Val opened the door a little wider and waddled out, hefting a bundle of what seemed to be almost all her clothes—thankfully, she still had a dress on. That is, her shirt, which was long enough to be a dress. Or rather, she was small enough for it to be a dress. The bundle looked like it would explode out of her arms and Paige briefly considered offering to hold it for her, but then decided that would be too weird.

“I’m gonna just quickly check the carts,” Paige told the manager, who just waved her off, not even looking up from his phone. Val padded behind her on bare feet, ducking her head even though she really didn’t need to. She couldn’t be seen over the register even if she stood up straight.

It was as quick a drive as Val said, just across the street and around the corner. Completely walkable, under normal circumstances. But under abnormal circumstances, Val needed to be helped in and out of the car and escorted to the steps. She couldn’t even unlock the door on her own. Val didn’t say a word the whole time, not even a thank you before shutting the door in Paige’s face.

-

So clearly, for whatever reason, Val shrunk any time she heard any word that meant “small” and grew back at midnight, like some sort of bizarre Cinderella. Her general demeanor made a lot more sense now. Why be friendly with people if conversations were a landmine for triggering a…curse? Probably a curse. This seemed pretty curse-like.

Being privy to this secret didn’t afford Paige any exemption to Val’s antipathy, though. It did afford her a lot more requests for help, and while she did understand that she was probably the only one who could help (since the cat was out of the bag anyways), it was sort of getting stressful, considering that most of the requests involved sneaking her out of work. Sometimes when she wasn’t even that small.

“Can’t you get noise-cancelling headphones or something?” Paige asked tersely on one of their secret drives.

Val looked at her, surprised. Even after their arrangement began, they never really exchanged words during the drives. It was just a given that they should be done in silence. After a long pause, she tugged at her shirt (which wasn’t even that baggy this time) and replied, “They hurt after a while. And it’s not like they work perfectly.”

“It’s better than nothing. I can’t keep doing this for you, I’ll lose my job.”

Val glared hard at the glovebox. “Okay. Got it,” she said coldly, sending a twinge of guilt through Paige. But really, it was unreasonable to ask her to do this. She wasn’t in the wrong here. Val should be figuring out how to handle this herself.

-

“Who’s that?”

Paige blinked, coming out of her automatic check-out mode, and looked at where the shopper pointed. “Huh? Val?”

The shopper nodded. “Thanks. I don’t need a receipt.”

“Alright,” Paige said slowly. That…was a little weird, right? Should she tell Val? But it’s been pretty awkward ever since their last conversation. And she could handle herself. She should handle herself, really. Paige wasn’t her keeper.

When their shift ended, Paige got into her car and headed home—her home, not Val’s. Which, of course, was how it should be. It was late. She needed some sleep before class. They weren’t friends.

…

Sighing heavily, Paige turned around and drove back to the road she had grown so familiar with, peering ahead for any sign of a person on the empty sidewalks. As she approached Val’s house, her headlights caught a lone figure, crouching close to the ground, over a pile of clothes—

Paige quickly parked, launched herself out of her car, and punched the shopper from before in the solar plexus. In one fluid motion, she scooped up the clothes and retreated, jumping back in (and knocking her head on the top of her car, ow), and slamming the door behind her—wait, was Val even in the clothes? She couldn’t feel her weight, did she drop her? Paige tore at the bundle of clothes in her lap and yes, she could see a small form squirming around, thank god—

The shopper suddenly slammed a hand on her window and she screamed, dropping Val in the cupholder and slamming on the gas. She didn’t stop until fifteen minutes later, when it was pretty clear there was no car following her. She pulled to the side of the road. “Okay, pretty sure we’re good,” she announced. “Let’s get you out of—“

The tiny hand that slapped at her fingers when she reached into the cupholder barely registered, but Paige flinched back anyways. As the adrenaline wore off, she became aware of soft crying.

And with that came the extra awareness of how…small Val was at the moment, the smallest she’d ever seen her. So small that she fit in a cupholder. So small, she could easily be whisked away.

“I-I’ve never—it’s never been th-this bad before,” Val managed between sobs, tripping over her self-censorship. “Wh-what if I don’t grow back this time?”

“I mean, you always grow back, right? No reason that’ll change. You’ll be normal again in…” …twenty-two hours.

Paige flinched as the wailing just grew louder. Not by much. Being just a few inches tall affected your volume, as it turns out.

“…Want to go to my place?” Paige offered meekly. Neither of them brought up the obvious fact that Val couldn’t stay at her own place. Possibly couldn’t ever go back, considering that her would-be kidnapper knew where she lived.

The cupholder gave no answer other than more weeping. So Paige just quietly drove home.

[softxsuki]

hi there! i hope you're doing well, congrats on your recent milestone! 💓 if it's alright, may i request a song drabble with the outsider by lyn lapid + hanemiya kazutora (from tokyo rev) + fem!reader + romantic? maybe the genre could be reverse comfort and/or fluff because he feels kinda left out after getting out of juvie. thank you in advance, han. 🫶

1.5k Follower Event Song Drabble "The Outsider" With Kazutora (TR)

This event is now closed. You can view the masterlist here.

| Pairing: Kazutora x Fem!Reader| Genre: Angst to Fluff bit of Comfort | Post-Type: Drabble | Word Count: 790 |

Warnings: insecurity (from Kazutora), feeling left out

Note: Once again apologizing for this being so late, I hope you're doing well and see this! I loved this concept of Kazutora feeling left out, and having Y/N comfort and reassure him! Enjoy <3

It had been weeks since he was finally released from juvie. Of course he had seen you on your frequent visits to see him when he was still locked up, but things felt different now that he was back in society. You were both older now, maybe you had changed your mind about him and were just sticking around out of obligation?

He felt completely out of place at the dinner you arranged with all his friends, wanting to give him the chance to catch up with everyone. It had been years since he sat at a table with all his friends, a lot of them looking much older than the last time he saw them.

He felt his heart sink when they all seemed so familiar with you as well; Mikey, Mitsuya, Draken, Chifuyu, and the other guys had taken care of you while Kazutora was locked away, making sure you were safe and happy.

You all were engaged in conversation, catching up and discussing events that had happened in the past few weeks when he wasn’t around. He couldn’t find an opportunity to jump in despite the many times you’d bring the conversation to him so he could speak, but he felt bad about joining in as the conversation among the group continued.

What really made him tick and lose his patience though was when Mikey reaches over the table to wipe the bit of ketchup off the side of your mouth with his thumb. Kazutora abruptly stands up and leaves the table, walking out of the restaurant completely.

That was his job…years ago when he wasn’t in prison, he’d even go as far as to kiss the mess off your face whenever you got some food on your nose or the side of your mouth. Has he been replaced? Were you only with him now because you felt bad? Hundreds of thoughts ran through his head as he paced outside the restaurant. Should he leave or go back in? What was he even doing out here?

Groaning, he mentally curses himself, until he feels a poke on his back, a familiar warm voice instantly calming him.

“You okay babe?” You ask slowly, getting his attention as he turns around to face you, sighing.

“I’m fine, I just…think I should leave. I’m clearly not needed here,” he grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he kicks imaginary rocks on the ground.

With a sigh, you take his hand, squeezing it softly.

“Is it because of what Mikey did?” You ask slowly, knowing the action must have bothered him. As soon as he stormed out, you had scolded Mikey for his actions, which he had only done to stir up trouble, as usual. He just needed to be devious, it was his way of trying to get Kazutora to go back to his usual self.

He grunts in response, hating the way Mikey had touched you so casually, what if he had been doing that the whole time he was locked up?

“Stop that,” you sigh, tugging on his hand to get him to look your way, “I pushed Mikey’s hand away as soon as I noticed what he was doing. You know you’re the only one for me.”

Still unsatisfied, Kazutora frowns, overthinking everything.

“Do you know how long I waited for this day? Anxiously awaiting your return so you could be with your friends again and so we could be together like this, like we used to, to hug you and kiss you whenever I want. You’re the one I want, the one I love, the only one I’ll ever be with so long as you still want that,”  you sigh, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you see a small smile appear on his lips.

“Really? You were waiting for me this whole time?” He finally asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze in return.

“Of course, what else would I be doing? Nothing was the same without you, so having you here just feels right…” you smile softly, swinging your hands together. “Now let's go back inside, I’ll make sure Mikey apologizes to you.”

Agreeing, he follows you inside the restaurant again, your fingers intertwined as he takes a seat beside you, wrapping an arm around your chair reminding everyone you were already taken by him.

The rest of the evening goes a lot smoother, as he slowly opens up more, the guys directing more questions at him and pulling him into their conversations as they talk about their past together. And after many years you see his smile again, the lightheartedness he used to carry; in that moment it was back, and it was beautiful. You’d make sure to protect it for as long as you were together. 

Posted: 9/16/2024

[riftwirecrystal]

NINJAGO STARSTRUCK AU - SPINJITZU AT 25:00 OPENING

This is the opening of the Ninjago x Project Sekai Nightcord swap.

Hey guys, I worked hard to make sure I kept most of the character's traits present, while coinciding with N25's main story. It would mean a lot if you stopped by to read a bit!!

Harumi Yoisaki

"This isn't right. Maybe if I…? Yes, that works."

My name is Harumi Yoisaki. I am a digital composer.

I would be a second year student of high school, but I do not go to school. I live by myself and complete online courses. My parents used to work in music.

I work in a group. We meet every night on our night chat, Spinjitzu. Ever since my parents were hospitalized I promised to keep doing what they did.

I don't live in a very roomy apartment. I barely pay the rent. Sometimes I will forget to eat.

But, I continue. Because I must compose.

I visit my parents sometimes. They don't wake up. They never will.

Because they are dead. And it's my fault.

So I continue. And the cycle will go on.I must compose.

Even though sometimes it's hard, I continue. Because this is my place. I will save someone.

I just need to keep composing. And soon…I will be able to save someone from the same fate as my parents.

They went out to drive…

"No. I will not think about it. I will keep going. I must save someone…

"My screen lit up.

"Hey Rue, I finished arranging that part for you. Do you want the demo?"

It was from L. He arranges my music and adds lyrics.

"Yes please," I wrote back. He sent the file, and I pressed play.

A harsh, but sweet melody flooded the room. The composition flowed smoothly with the arrangements L did.

"Thank you, L. It sounds good," I typed.

"I'm glad. I think I'm going to log off," he typed back.

So early? That's weird…"Get some sleep! You must be tired, but it sounds good though," typed Nyad.

"Yeah, I heard you had class tomorrow, so rest well," added PIX.

Nyad works with our other member, PIX. Nyad does the art while PIX does the editing.

We post songs and music videos on our shared account, S25. Usually I get slightly more of the cut we make due to my living situation, but I still make sure to give them the amount they deserve too.

We've never met each other face to face, but I find joy in working with the three of them.

Even with that, I'm not doing this for fun.

I must compose.

Lloyd Asahina

I logged off the computer.

I am Lloyd Asahina, a second year high school student.

I glanced at the sheet of music on my desk, then the workbook that’s shoved to the floor.

Guess I should do that then, huh?

I slowly and miserably picked up the book from the ground, then placed it on my desk.

But I couldn't open it.

I didn't want to open it.

But I had to, didn't I?

I had to.

I ended up finishing the notes and assignments I was supposed to take next week.

Hopefully that will be enough…

My mother called from the hallway. "Lloyd? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah. Just finishing some things for next week," I said.

She softly opened the door. "Good. I don't want you being all caught up with those people online again. You know what happened last time. You're so talented and gifted, and I want the best for you… okay?"

It's hard to fight with her. I gave up a long time ago. Now I only hide.

"Yes, mom," I replied.

My mother is Dr. Misako Asahina. She is one of the most famous and world renowned doctors in the world. She has no interest in music, and expects me to take a similar career to her.

But I don't know what I want to do. I don't know who I am.

What do I want to be…?

But I continue to do whatever she says. I don't know why. I just can't defy her, no matter how hard I want to.

I'm supposed to be the best for everyone around me. Why stop now…?

I haven't known myself for a long time now. It's nothing new to feel like this.I can't help it. I still hate it.

But if that's the case, why can't I leave it…?Deep down, I knew the truth.I could not escape.

I have been forever alone.

I hate it.

I hate myself.

I have lost who I am.

Nya Shinonome

For forever, I have wanted to become an artist.

I have many names.

Nya Shinonome, for one.

But I can also be Kai’s sister, a little girl, the loner, etc.

I am all of them.

Yet I am none of what I want to be.

I do not go to school during the day.

I have never been able to choose my own path.

When I try, I am constantly told I’m not good enough.

I should give up.

I should stop trying.

I am not talented.

I am not valued.

But I persevere.

My destiny should be what I make. Not what anyone else says. I will be good enough. I can be good enough.

But am I really?

Yes, I always tell myself.

As I tell myself this again, I get a text message from PIX in the chat.

“Hey Nyad, can I see the storyboard you were working on for the next song?”

I quickly sent her the progress I’d made so far. “Here.”

“Thanks! You’re so talented, I’d never be like you,” she responded.

That made me feel a bit better.

Sometimes it does get hard.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t do anything right.

Sometimes I feel completely and utterly useless.

Sometimes I just feel like I want to disappear.

It’s the worst feeling in the world.

But I need to prove everyone who doubted me wrong.It doesn’t matter who tells me I can’t do it.

My parents, my teachers, my brother, none of them.

I will pursue my dream.

Even if it means I’ll have to fight all the doubts clouding my head.

Pixal Akiyama

I sighed.

Everyone else had logged off already.

What do I do now..?

I looked at my bag and remembered the schoolwork due next week.

"I really don't want to do that right now…"

I tried to ignore it and started working on the new music video. My name is Pixal Akiyama. I am a first year high school student.

I use my friend Nyad's art in edits for Rue and L's songs. Lately my inspiration has been lacking. I'm not sure why.

School life isn't much better either. It's been a while since I've talked to Sora… I noticed an influx in people calling me names and avoiding me too. I'm always excluded and made fun of.

I don't know why.

I miss my dad…

My dad is Cyrus Akiyama, a clothing designer with a very different approach to styles. He moved away to work for his company a few months ago.

I haven't had many people to talk to recently.

I miss talking.

It's been so long…

I miss having people to confide in. To run to. To trust.

No one accepts me. And no one will.

I am alone. Forever and ever.

[ninthprime]

various palisade thoughts through 42 that do not necessitate an entire post (spoilers)

had an actual pog moment when i realized that "moon river" is the description song for this episode because it has a cover by frank ocean, indicating that we're moving from outside to inside the mirage. i see your tricks austin walker

also had another pog moment when i realized that brnine and jesset were the two people who had the "sacrificing yourself is for idiots" argument with SI in partizan and now they're both desperately trying to sacrifice themselves. we talk about valence haunting this season but we were also being haunted by that weird old man (positive)...

brnine/jesset is real and i'd like to see them make out. also i think they might be a little bad for each other right now. jesset i need you on a month of medical leave and also to have a friend who doesn't brush it off when you say you're thinking about how you will be remembered when you die.

i know he's been mostly offscreen this season but i do need us to imagine being kalar rn. your friend phrygian died and before you can even get over to the blue channel to help arrange a funeral your other friend figure dies and his god gets so upset that the planet becomes part of the twilight mirage and now your children that you have been separated from for five years are aging even faster before you can see them. Okay

unfortunately my actual first thought about the outside time jump was "oh no what if leap is making out with somebody new by the time eclectic gets back!!"

i'm actually really thrilled about eclectic traumatized and accidentally famous arc. he's coming together as a character really quickly. i think if he reached out to perennial it would be fun

cori should get the day's eye also

i actually predicted that cor'rina and miseri would get promoted to work with cas'alear but i would like to hear every detail about how cas'alear decided the guy that worked with kalvin brnine, who killed their sibling, should be one of their bodyguards. are you good cas'alear. it doesn't sound like things are good. hey do you think there's less ego death if four people pilot commitment instead of two

that said we have fun here but if i was routine, and i nearly died saving the sun and was deprived of medical treatment for a while, and then got accidentally abandoned while my captain killed the emperor, and then said emperor's younger sibling allowed me to become their bodyguard in some sort of weird joint reward/hostage treatment, i would spend the next couple of years or so losing my mind a little

janine's reaction to "concrete hamburger seatbelt" being something she came up with years ago is maybe the most upset i've heard her on this podcast

he wasn't in this episode but isn't it fucked up that gur is stuffed in the back of the mind of the entity that inhabited his corpse and is now controlling his friend's corpse also. cool. normal

i am holding perennial's hand very gently

[bebepac]

Memories of You

I am participating in @choicesflashfics prompt: Not all love stories get a “happily ever after.” Sometimes ... it’s just once upon a time.” 

The Book:  TRF The Series: The Cordonian Arrangement The Pairings:  Riley x Nico / (Riley x M!OC) past pairing of Liam x Riley Word Count: 2477 Warnings and Ratings:  Character death, adult language, grief/  Teen Song Inspiration: Here Without You By 3 Doors Down Summary:  Liam gives Riley Nico’s final gift.  Riley reminisces of points of her and Nico’s life together towards the end of their relationship.  

Original Post: 03/25/23 at 3:31PM EST

He didn’t even notice her watching him, well not at first.  Nico was sitting up in bed reading a book.  She rested her body against the door frame, watching him.  Finally his eyes slowly drifted up from the book to her.

“What?”  He inquired.

She giggled at him.  Nico smiled back, shaking his head, not understanding.  “Tell me,  what's so funny?”

Riley giggled.  “You’re so cute, Nico.”

Nico set the book on the night table.

“I’m cute?”

Riley nodded her head.

“Very cute. Did you know that your lips move when you are reading to yourself?” 

Nico's smile widened, and he nodded in affirmation.

“Yes, I know, but only when I'm reading a book in English.  I like to sound out the words in my head while I’m reading, to practice.”

“You can barely detect your accent at times when you speak English.”  

“I learned it very young and because I practice! A lot of doors have opened for me in my life knowing multiple languages. I know we’re doing the right thing  teaching Angelo both English and Greek at the same time.  He speaks perfect Greek already.”

“He’s only two.”  

“Well he speaks perfect Greek for a two year old. I want all of our children to know multiple languages.  It’s important. I want all of our children to have every opportunity, every door open to them that they could possibly have or want..”  

“All of our children?”

He jumped out of bed walking over to her, pulling her into his strong sturdy arms.

“Yes, all of the children we’re going to have together, but we have to make them first. We have work to do Wife, come on!"

Riley squealed as Nico picked her up, carrying her over to their bed.

Based on her due date, that night, three weeks before they found out about his diagnosis, Riley had finally gotten pregnant. They had created life together, before they knew Nico's life would be ending.

Riley blinked away the tears. That was a memory. When she opened her eyes their bed was empty. Nico passed away almost two months ago. A sweet memory of when they were happy, before cancer invaded their lives.

Before Liam had left, he gave her something he had been holding onto that he promised Nico he would give to her when he thought the time was right.  Envelopes addressed to each one of them, herself, Angelo, and  one that simply said ‘Baby K.’ She put the others away for safekeeping and began to watch hers.

"Agápi mou (my love) if you are watching this, Liam thought giving you this video would help you more than hurt. Everything I've done, I never wanted to hurt you Riley, even in death. I am grateful for every moment we spent together as a family.  That's why it pains me that I had to leave you this way, knowing all the loss you have experienced in your life, and I never wanted to be the cause of more. I promise you, that I held on to the living world and to you, as long as I physically could, because I didn't want to leave you or Angelo."

Nico's voice broke, and his eyes filled with tears. "And…..I didn't want to leave our baby that you are carrying. 

I wanted to be there, and I am thankful you allowed me to be there for Angelo in all of those ways, so I can hold onto those memories always, and I know what maybe it could have been like with our child. I hope that you will permit Liam to be there for you in that way. It would completely change him as a man.  An experience he should have, that he missed out on, not knowing of Angelo’s existence.  I truly believe Liam would do right by you and our children should you give him the chance. I don't know how much time has passed, but my hope for you is you are in a better place emotionally, that you are coping, and healing,  but you’re not over me just yet.”

Nico’s face turned from deadpan serious to twinkle in his eyes with a mischievous little smirk before he smiled small at first, then laughter erupted from him. 

 Riley smiled at the screen.  Even in grief, he had made her smile.  She rubbed her stomach affectionately.

“That’s your Daddy, little one.  I hope you can hear him. He always had a joke for me to lighten a heavy mood. He knew how to make me smile, because he understood my sarcastic, dark sense of humor, and he loves you so very much. I hope you can feel his love all the way from heaven.”  

“I believe you’re smiling and I wish I could see you right now in the moment watching this, witnessing the changes to your body, because pregnancy agrees with you. You were more beautiful to me each passing day as you carried Angelo, I can only imagine you now. But, I guess I will just have to settle for this.  I should have known you were pregnant again before you even took the test. How should I have known you’re wondering?”  

Nico entered their bedroom, it appeared to be late one evening.  He walked to the bed; she was sprawled out from under the covers sleeping.  

“Hear that?”  He whispered.

Nico leaned the camera in closer…. To her.

She heard snoring.  Nico made the sound of a mosquito and gently tickled the tip of her nose.  In sleep Riley slapped her face.

Nico covered his mouth trying to not laugh out loud,

 the amusement clear in his eyes.   After a few moments when he was sure she was still asleep, he began speaking in a whisper again.

“Just so we’re clear, I officially win this argument. This is undeniable proof that you snore Riley Karahalios.  

Breathe heavy my ass!  Do you hear that?!?!? That’s a full on snore!!! But it doesn’t make me love you any less, my little buzz saw."

He lovingly pulled the covers up around Riley, tucking her in.  She watched herself snuggle into the covers, and Nico whispered.  “I love you  to the moon and back again.”

She heard herself sigh contentedly, mumble something incoherent, and commence to snoring again.

“But in your defense, you only snore, and you’re an incredibly deep sleeper when you’re pregnant. I guess your body needs the extra rest; you are growing life inside you, eating, and sleeping for two. Sweet dreams."

He planted a kiss to her cheek before  walking  back out of the room, towards the outdoors.  

“In all of this, I really have made peace with what's happening to me.  Maybe that’s not what you want to hear, Riley, but it’s true.  There is so much beauty in this world if you silence yourself enough to listen and pay attention.  I’m going to enjoy as much as I can, while I'm still here.  Our home may be small, but it’s ours. I love the happy home we made together.  

And I know what I asked of you.  I believe you could be happy with Liam again. You were happy with him at one time, because I saw it.  I don’t want to pressure you. That’s not what this is about.  I want you to have love in your life and be and feel supported, and Liam could be that force for you. I want you to seriously think Riley, what will make you truly happy, and chase that, whatever that means to you.  I pray you are closer to finding it now, than you were when I left you."

The video panned out over their yard and their land.

"God, it's a beautiful night. There’s not a cloud in the sky and the temperature is perfect. But.....I want to tell you something else. You told me the story of your brother, and how your life has been touched by the supernatural from a very young age, and I believe every word.  This is why I know you will not doubt what I’m about to tell you.  It's been almost two weeks since we found out we were pregnant, and every night since, I have had dreams of a child. Our child. She comes to me in my dreams every night, giving me glimpses of who she is, and who she will become with you as a mother.  I love everything she has shown me.  She’s so cute, and sassy.

I have memories of a child, our child that isn’t even born yet.  She’s so beautiful, Riley.  She’s going to take your breath away, the moment you lay eyes on her for the first time.”

Riley had just found out two days ago the baby she was carrying is a girl.  Tears filled her eyes, as she caressed her stomach.

"And I see that you love your Papa too. Thank you for giving him such a special gift. I can't wait to meet you, my sweet darling girl."

She heard her voice off camera.

“I couldn’t sleep, and didn’t want to bother you.  I’m coming back inside now.”

He looked back at the camera, smiling.

“You’re calling me, and I want to go and cuddle with you now that you’re awake, so I can hold you until you fall back asleep.”

She paused the video, in that moment, he looked so content in his life and the world around him, and that's the exact way he always made her feel.

Not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’  Sometimes …. It’s just once upon a time.

“Is that how you want me to tell our story to our children?”  

“Yes, because even though we didn’t get that opportunity to grow old together I’ve been so happy to be with you, Riley, that you loved me. I've felt love from you everyday  since we left Cordonia. Not going to lie, for a moment, I wondered did you settle for me."

"Nico! I…."

"I know you love me.  Do you have any regrets? If you would have known then, this is what would happen to us now, would you have still chosen me?”

“Yes. Because I love you. You gave me a family, and I’m surrounded by not only your love, but theirs. I would have rather had our happiness for the years we had it, then not at all. Do you have any regrets?"

Nico was silent for a while.

"None about you. But I have one."

"What is it?"

"I love you. I love that our wedding was small and intimate. Deep down I know you and I were all that matters,  but my mother was incredibly hurt that she was not at our wedding.”  

“Then, let's get married again.”

“Riley….”

“When the time comes, you’re not going to have any regrets Nico, I won’t let you.”

“A wedding like that takes time to plan. Time… we don’t have.”  

“With everyone helping, and we have a big family Nico, all we need is a week.”  

“Riley….”  

“Nicolas Alexi Karahalios, will you marry me again?”

Nico smiled,  “Where are my flowers, you’re not going to get on bended knee? Come on, am I really that easy?”

Riley playfully pushed him away from her, to which he pulled her back into his grip.

“Yes, I will marry you again.”  

Riley was right with all of Nico’s sisters, helping and his mother, they were able to pull together a simple and beautiful outdoors ceremony.  

Nico had picked a breezy linen suit for the occasion, one that he later requested he would be buried in.  When it came time for Riley to look at dresses, Nico smiled and told her that he wanted to be surprised. He wanted to do things differently than the first time around.  They followed every tradition to the letter, except spending the night away from each other, the night before the wedding to which Nico flat out refused.  That night before the wedding, Nico wanted his little family close. Riley, Angelo, Nico, shared their bed together, with Chance and Icarus  at their feet.  

The day of the ceremony was perfect weather.  

Nico was in awe of the flowing  dress Riley had picked for their vow renewal.  

During the course of the ceremony, she glanced at Nico.  He looked tired. Without asking, Riley slipped her arm around him, letting him rest some of his weight on her.

“Thank you.”  He whispered in her ear.    

The man that used to be able to pick her up like she was a feather, was having difficulty simply holding himself upright for ten minutes.  But even in that, she still saw strength and determination in his eyes.   Nico enjoyed the rest of the day’s festivities comfortably from his seat with the exemption of the times he wanted to dance with his beautiful wife.

Two weeks later….

“He’s in pain, please give him more medication.”  

The hospice nurse shook her head.

“He’s refusing it.  He says he doesn’t want to fall asleep. He’s very agitated.”

“But he’s in pain, he needs it.”  

“He's fighting his transition. Maybe you should try to talk to him, to see if you can convince him.”  

Nico opened his eyes when she stroked his cheek.

“Please take the medication, Nico.”  

“No.”

"I don't want you to hurt."

"But I don't want you to hurt."

"I'll be fine." She said it even though she didn't believe it.

Nico saw right through her words.

"You're a horrible liar, Riley, you know that."

"Please… don't be in pain for me."

"I am willing to take it all if it means you will have none. You're not ready."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"I know, life rarely follows our plans. You’re not ready.”  

“She’s not, but we will help her through it.”

Nico looked over Riley’s shoulder to his mother  and Athena.

“We will help Riley through it all.  We will take care of her, and your children.  Riley is family and she will always be.  She’ll never be able to get rid of us.”

Each placed a comforting hand on Riley’s shoulders.  Riley laughed  through her tears, her eyes meeting Nico’s again.  

She mustered up the confidence thanks to the two women standing behind her giving her the extra strength she needed in that moment.

“See,  I told you.  I may not be fine right now, but in time, I will be. Thank you for loving me so completely, Nico.”  

“I will love you for eternity Riley, until we meet again.”  

Riley kissed his lips, and finally Nico agreed to take the pain medication.

She settled next to him in bed and whispered in his ear.  “Now you can rest.”

“I can rest.”  

Not even ten minutes later, Nico took his last breath.  

Over two months had elapsed since Nico passed away,  Liam had flown back to Greece a total of three times since he initially left.  Twice for her prenatal appointments, and once for her birthday.  Liam was really trying to be there for her,  and at the same time respect her boundaries, and the grief she was still experiencing.

Liam seemed surprised when he opened the door late that evening.

“Is everything alright Riley?”  

“I… don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

“You don’t have to.”

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

For Talenna and Calder (maybe Arranged Marriage AU?!) ❝ we really should have done that sooner, huh? ❞ Happy Writing, Ed!

Just take it, ya filthy animal. Trying to get the good stuff early without all the slow burn enemies to friends to lovers! SHAMEFUL! (Regardless, thank you for the prompt)

For @dadrunkwriting

Rated M: mature sexual themes, post-sex realizations, 800~ words

Coming with the Dawn | By Exalted_Dawn

Morning was a time for stirring. Hand maids and the morning staff of Castle Redcliffe bustled about in quiet business. Delivering food, setting out clothes, drawing water for their baths. The curtains floated in the gauzy sunlight as new air swept in through opened windows. Morning was a time for stirring, and Talenna’s eyes fluttered open as wakefulness found her finally, and it was to the snickering of a servant as the bedroom door clicked shut and the slow, heavy thumping of a heart beneath her ear. 

“Ngggh…” 

Talenna had just enough time to snap awake before a barrel-thick arm fell across her back and tugged her close, keeping her pressed tight against her husband’s wire coat chest as he turned them both onto his side. He exhaled deeply, murmuring some half-formed nonsense into her hair as he snuggled in closer. His breath smelled of wine and…

Creators. 

All at once, it seemed, the soreness in her hips and back flared to life, as if in reminder. As if she needed a reminder. Memories of the last night came rushing back to her like a song once forgotten now determined to remain stuck in her head. Wine-flavored kisses in the hallway. The scratch of his beard against her chin. Sword-roughened palms sliding down her neckline to grope at her breasts as she was pressed against the door. His name on her tongue, and hers on his. Far too wanton to be anything close to innocent. 

He had asked to strip her of her clothes, and she had let him without thought. She had let him take her to bed. 

“Mmhn?” Another puff of breath against her ear, dancing across the pointed tip and drawing goosebumps. The arm around her tightened, a splayed hand dragging across her stomach. His calloused fingers traced a gentle path from belly button to breast, just barely skimming the swell of one before settling there. But not stilling. It painted lazy circles across the spot, and it was everything she could do not to sigh in approval. Fucking- “...I… thought I had dreamed it.” 

His voice was still heavy with sleep. Still close. Still maddeningly warm. 

She turned slowly in his arms. There was no use in pretending this did not happen now. No use in running. “Mmn, I am afraid not,” she whispered, her voice wry. She almost did not want to look. But she did regardless. 

In the morning light, Calder looked ever more the picture of her first impression of him. Ruffled. A gruff mess of brown eyes and too much hair. Belonging more in a tavern than amidst a crowd of nobles. Real. 

He smiled. A hand raised to her face and brushed aside a single strand of hair, and there he lingered. Just barely touching her. “I’m glad.” 

And then his hand dropped away.

If ever there were so many implications in so few words. He was… glad. Glad to have ruined their partnership? They had shattered the one, precious bit of steady ground beneath them– everything they had built their relationship upon. They had just begun to think of each other as friends and now-

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now. To kiss you. And to, uh…” He cleared his throat, a bit more wakefulness coming to him as color flooded his cheeks. His eyes flicked across her naked form, before politely diverting again; his point proven. 

Talenna almost laughed. “You did?” 

“Yeah,” he answered, a small smile twitching to life on his lips. “Probably since I first laid eyes of you. In spite of the circumstances, it's not as though I was blind or anything. You were…” He looked at her. “You are beautiful.”

Well shite. 

She could hardly help the way her cheeks darkened, or how the ear by his hand twitched with surprise. With… satisfaction. Was she actually satisfied  that he thought that? 

Scoffing, she ducked her head away from him, finding his gaze far too personal. For the first time in a very long while, she did not have the strength to hold his gaze. “Well then I suppose that means you enjoyed yourself?”

His answering laugh echoed through their chambers. “I did, yes.” A pause. “...Did you?”

The echoes of last night in her mind– pleading cries and fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer– were answer enough. She knew the truth in a second’s span. 

She had. Creators, she had more than enjoyed it.

“...Do not act like you don’t already know the answer,” she huffed begrudgingly. 

A finger slipped beneath her chin, tilting her head back up. Forcing her to hold his gaze. In it was a mix of emotions. Pride. Understanding. Joy. 

…Adoration. 

“Then I suppose we really should have done this sooner, huh?”

She almost did not want to look. If she could see so much in a simple stare, then she feared what he might find in hers. But there was no point in pretending. No point in looking away. It had happened. She almost didn't want to look, but she did.

"I suppose so."

[wreywrites]

Wolf Songs

Jedi June Week 1

Prompt: Fun/Joy

A/N: Doing some extra scenes and some existing scenes from "The Protector," which is in final edits right now, so I'll start posting soon. Rather than first person from Ky's point of view, these will all be third person from other characters, kind of looking in at her life. Some of them will be Jedi, some won't. This week's comes at you straight from Creche Mom Le'Kal. Warnings: None AO3

Jedi Master Le’Kal Olto had raised three creche clans. Her first three she had made up little chants and mantras for, but this one, her fourth, she had decided to do something a little different. So the six crechelings of Wolf Clan howled.

They howled a lot.

They howled to the point where she sometimes wondered if she should apologize to the other creche masters, and Master Sinube, and Master Syssree in the laundry supply, and Master Yoda that day her half-dozen three-year-olds had burst into raucous howls at the end of their meditation session, and Master Nu when six five-year-olds entered the Archives as the model of respectful behavior and received a very stern talking to half an hour later for the same crime, and most of the Council, and—

Maybe she should issue a Temple-wide apology and tell her beloved creche that they must be polite with their howls, and save them only for game times.

Or, she thought, watching them line up for supper under the watchful and mostly helpful eye of Kit Fisto, the older Nautolan crecheling who often helped with their saber lessons and meditations, she could let it go on. There was no harm in it, and Master Yoda had simply chuckled at their antics, and Master Syssree had howled a raspy Trandoshan howl back to each of them individually as she handed them their new robes, and Master Nu… well, Jocasta could perhaps use a bit more levity in her life. Even if she was in charge of the Archives, and the Archives were supposed to be a quiet and respectful place of learning, and—

“Ready, little wolves?” Kit grinned at the six-year-olds lined up in front of him.

“Awooo!” they howled as one.

Most of one.

“Obi-Wan!” Keeli crossed her arms and bobbed her head at him, a Vurk expression of the highest disappointment on her face.

Obi-Wan barely looked abashed by this.

“You’re too serious!” Quinlan teased, turning around but not leaving his place in the immaculate line.

“I am the right amount of serious.” Obi-Wan held his head high, not looking at anyone in particular. “Being a Jedi isn’t all fun and games.”

Quinlan snorted, Keeli let out a rawk of disapproval, and Adi and Shaak, usually so strait-laced, actually stepped out of their places in line to look around Brallo, one on either side, and scrutinized poor Obi-Wan, who was perhaps now realizing his mistake.

“Being a Jedi is mostly fun and sometimes games,” Adi said, still leaning comically around Brallo.

Shaak, from Brallo’s other side, chimed, “Right, Le’Kal?”

Le’Kal smiled, took the briefest of seconds to arrange her thoughts, and said, “Being a Jedi isn’t all about having fun. However, it is important to have fun. It is much easier to find peace when you are happy and content, and it is easier to be content when you are having fun.” This, of course, being a teaching moment, she continued, “That does not mean you should howl all through meditations with Master Yoda this afternoon, but it does mean I want you all to be able to have fun with each other. It builds trust and friendship, and those things are important for Jedi. We are not meant to be alone.”

Le’Kal paused, looking at each little one individually, even Kit, who was feeling this divide more sharply than Wolf Clan, as the last of his own creche clan to not yet be a padawan. At fourteen, there was still time, but she knew it was hard for him, and she very much appreciated how well he put on a smile for her little ones.

She went on, “My creche-mates and I are still friends. We still share old jokes and stories from our time in the creche, and because we had fun together as children, we remain friends as adults and Jedi masters now, and because we are friends, we all know that we can call on the others for help and advice at any time. So…” Le’Kal paused, took a slow breath, and looked at each of them again, “being a Jedi is not all fun and games, but it is certainly harder without the fun and games.”

Wolf Clan looked at her with shining eyes full of awe, the Force’s current calm and cool and relaxed as they digested her words.

Kit, standing behind them at what had been the head of the line until they all turned around, smiled an almost disconcertingly soft smile when compared to his usual feral and toothy grins. If nothing else, he needed this.

Keeli broke formation first, bolting for Le’Kal and throwing her arms around the Mon Calamari’s middle in the biggest hug she could manage. Le’Kal barely had time to return the hug before the others swarmed them, surrounding her in a heartfelt group hug and warmth in the Force. Even Kit joined in, hugging her over Adi’s head.

Le’Kal simply radiated warmth back to them as she wrapped her arms around as many of them as she could reach.

Somewhere from the middle of the pile came a sigh and a quiet, resigned, “Awoo.”

“Awoooo!”

As the others started to howl with a vengeance, Le’Kal shifted one arm and ruffled Obi-Wan’s hair gently.

He smiled at her, looking a little rueful, then tipped his head back and howled again.

*****

Le’Kal’s datapad pinged. She glanced down at the table, confident that Shaak would alert her if something catastrophic happened as Brallo and Quinlan wrestled. They were usually careful, but she could never be completely sure. Thankfully, Shaak was responsible in the extreme.

It was a short message from Master Sinube: ‘Expect new initiate.’

She frowned. New? Six was too old, and any child younger than that would surely join one of the other clans, with children their age. She took a sip of tea and returned her attention to Quinlan and Brallo.

Next to her, Obi-Wan tensed and looked up with a sharp frown. “Is someone—?”

The door opened and there was Master Dooku of all people—soundly in the top five Jedi Le’Kal would never expect to bring new initiates to the Temple—and a girl, who did indeed look about the age of Wolf Clan.

She fed her flicker of surprise into the Force, smiled at the newcomer, and stood. “Master Sinube told me you were coming our way. Obi-Wan will welcome the company.”

Obi-Wan turned and shot what started as a shy smile but quickly became that famous winning grin of his at the girl. Le’Kal was quite sure her little wolves didn’t care about the species of their friends, but she also knew Obi-Wan didn’t always enjoy having to be careful of Shaak’s lekku and montrals, and Brallo’s lekku, and Adi’s tendrils, and Keeli’s head crest, and Quinlan was just different enough that Obi-Wan was always the odd man out. Another human would be good for him. Or at least give him a playmate whose head area he wouldn’t have to be so obsessively careful with.

The girl was grinning back at Obi-Wan.

Master Dooku inclined his head to Le’Kal. “Master Le’Kal, this is our hopeful initiate, Kylen Ydarra, of Vriis. Kylen, this is Jedi Master Le’Kal Olto. You will be in her charge for tonight.”

Le’Kal could feel cautious optimism from Dooku, and rampant excitement from Kylen Ydarra. It was a wonder the girl wasn’t visibly vibrating. “Force willing,” Le’Kal smiled, “for a few years yet. Let me introduce you around—”

Kylen suddenly spun around, reaching after Dooku, who had tried to slip out, as Jedi sometimes had to do when dropping off new crechelings. It was impressive how quickly most little ones became attached to whoever found them and brought them to the Temple and how little they wanted to be left with a group of strangers, even if those strangers were children their own age.

Kylen was staring at Dooku, the Force around her still overjoyed, but with the beginnings of anxiety churning beneath the surface. “You’ll come back?”

Dooku paused, then looked over his shoulder—very fondly, Le’Kal was surprised to see—and nodded. “I will see you at breakfast tomorrow, and then I will take you to the Council, and they will test you. After that, only the Force knows what will happen.”

“I know what will happen.” The girl did bounce on the balls of her feet this time. “They’ll let me stay.”

Dooku chuckled, then stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

Le’Kal gave the girl a moment to process this. The lesson of no attachments had to be taught early and reinforced often, and Kylen was already behind—though, at six, she must have chosen to come to the Temple rather than stay on Vriis with whoever was raising her. Selfishly, Le’Kal was interested to watch her grow, if only to see how her unique experiences would shape the Jedi she became.

“Kylen?” She spoke gently.

The girl turned around to face her. “Yes, Master?”

Le’Kal smiled. “You may call me Le’Kal. All the others do. What would you like us to call you?”

“Ky.”

“Very good.” Le’Kal gestured the others forward and put a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder before gesturing to the others in turn. “Now, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Shaak Ti, Adi Gallia, and Keeli Andrell. And my wrestlers are Brallo Kitari and Quinlan Vos.”

*****

Ky was right. She passed the Council’s test with flying colors and became the seventh member of Wolf Clan, and she howled along with the others at moments both opportune and otherwise.

Eight years later, Wolf Clan’s six padawans and one youngling stood from their table as one, howled, and scurried from the dining hall. Quiet, good-natured laughter followed them, and a fair few Jedi shot fond looks at Le’Kal.

Across the table, Ashda chuckled. “What mischief do you think they will get themselves into today?”

“I suspect a game of hide-and-seek tag in the West Garden. In fact,” Le’Kal stood and picked up her tray, “I may go and watch, for old time’s sake.”

Ashda nodded with a smile. “Have a fun afternoon.”

“I will.”

She did.

She did not arrive in time to hear the cackling laughter that came when Adi pushed Obi-Wan into one of the fountains to gain an advantage in their race to the circular bench on the far end of the garden to see who would be the seeker for the first game.

She did arrive in time to see Shaak jog by, smearing mud on her face to camouflage her brightly colored skin. The young Togruta smiled at her, then ducked into the trees. Le’Kal sat on a nearby bench, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath, letting herself drift into the current of the Force.

The Force was bright and warm with their joy and excitement, each of the children a bright spot, flaring nearly white against the peaceful green of the life in the garden. Le’Kal smiled and watched them through the Force. Brallo counted, his voice quickly slipping into the soft monotony of meditation. Keeli hid near one of the huge tree forts, grown for games just such as this; Quinlan on the walkway on the top level of the garden with Ky just below him on a fountain’s broad shelf top; Adi and Obi-Wan on a pair of small floating hedge mazes on opposite ends of the garden; Shaak climbed high into a boga tree and nestled herself into a crook in one of the larger limbs.

Le’Kal stayed on the bench for three wild games of hide-and-seek tag, basking in the warmth of Wolf Clan’s joy and laughter, smiling in the knowledge that no matter what happened to them, her little wolves would always have their pack.

Jedi were not meant to be alone, and these little ones would never be.

*****

It had been twelve years since the fountain incident, twelve years since Ky had finally become a padawan, and now she was the last padawan of Wolf Clan, the others all knighted and given responsibilities that made Le’Kal proud—Brallo a healer, Obi-Wan master to his own padawan already, Shaak a creche mom. It was that very creche that led to one of their wildest games of hide-and-see tag yet. Shaak’s Rancor Clan was on Ilum for the Gathering, leaving her with what Le’Kal knew could be a very overwhelming amount of free time. Obi-Wan’s padawan, who was a sort of honorary member of the creche clan since he was their age when he came to the Temple, had gone along, leaving Obi-Wan with an equally overwhelming amount of free time. Rather than use that time for napping and truly peaceful—rather than educational—meditations, the silly wolves had rounded up their creche-mates for an afternoon of chaos.

Le’Kal treasured it. She sat in the West Garden and observed their games through the Force, today a riot of color with their joy. She laughed aloud when Obi-Wan finally evened the scales and sent Adi tumbling into the fountain. When she went to supper a few moments after Wolf Clan, her heart was light and her spirit rejuvenated from the simple happiness the little wolves had exuded into the Force.

After supper, she followed them to the much quieter East Garden, where they settled in one of the grassy open spaces in a small circle, and, still smiling, began to meditate. She couldn’t resist.

“May I join your meditations, little wolves?”

Their eyes lit up as they opened them and saw her just outside their circle. They scooted closer together, looking oh so much like the six-year-olds they once had been, staring adoringly at her as she told them bedtime stories, only now, at twenty-six, they were, to a man, taller than she. But the way Ky and Obi-Wan grinned happily at each other, the way Brallo bounced in place, the way Shaak repositioned her montrals for optimum comfort—none of these things had changed in twenty years. They were still the little wolves of Wolf Clan, still prone to howling at inopportune moments, still so strong in their bonds of friendship and their dedication to the Jedi Order and all that it stood for, still warm lights in the Force, surrounding her and reminding her of the simple joys of life and the peace that those joys brought.

Le’Kal smiled and sat in the gap they made for her, between Adi and Quinlan. She knew they didn’t need her instruction any longer, but she couldn’t resist.

“Close your eyes, little wolves,” she said, voice soft and melodic.

They all drew a slow breath as one, eyes drifting shut, peace swelling in the Force, and still, underneath, that contagious joy bubbling up.

“I’m one with the Force, and the Force is with me.”

Another deep breath.

“I’m one with the Force, and the Force is with me.”

Seven voices, much less shrill and somehow both quieter and louder than they had been twenty years ago, joined her.

“I’m one with the Force, and the Force is with me.”

How could she feel anything but joy, surrounded by these bright lights that were the future of the Jedi Order? How could anyone worry when they heard the howls and laughter of Wolf Clan ring through the halls of the Temple?

Jedi were not meant to be alone, and as if to prove that they had learned that lesson well, Wolf Clan slept in a pile in the short grass of the East Garden just like they had when they were crechelings, and the Force danced around them.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 12: Eli the Elf

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 5394

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Note:  This fic was originally written for Fluffy Fridays in 2019

Emma collapsed onto the sofa in her living room.  Being the parent of a rambunctious, mischievous three-year-old was not for the faint of heart, that was for sure.  Not that she’d change her crazy life for anything.  Emma loved Hope Swan-Jones with all her heart.  After all the months and even years she and Killian had tried for a baby with no success, there was no doubt that Hope was their miracle, their second chance, their opportunity to be a family.   

As Emma’s maternity leave had neared its end, Emma and Killian had come to the decision that they wanted to be there for and with their daughter every hour of the day.  Daycare simply wasn’t an option for them, so they’d come to an arrangement: they’d trade off days.  One day Emma went into the station and Killian stayed home with Hope, and the next day they swapped.

Lately, it seemed like Emma was far more tired at the end of her days with Hope than she was at the end of her days as the sheriff.  Who would have thought those early months where Hope barely slept would actually end up being the easy parts of parenting? 

Hope was a good girl, sweet, affectionate, smart as a whip, but she was also the daughter of a pirate.  Seemed like Emma couldn’t turn around for a second without Hope making another mess or getting onto some sort of mischief. 

Emma let herself succumb to sleep while Killian put Hope to bed–no doubt with a thrilling, overly dramatic bedtime story, like he did nearly every night.  Hope adored his tales…and everything else about her Papa.  Emma knew her daughter loved her, but there was no doubt she was a daddy’s girl.

 The couch dipped beside her, waking Emma abruptly.

 “My apologies love,” Killian said, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Emma yawned before settling into Killian’s waiting arms.  “Don’t worry about it.  I was just kind of resting my eyes.  Don’t want to sleep through the evening when we finally get to have a little alone time.”

Killian brushed a kiss against the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her.  “I worry about you love.  You’ve been so tired lately.  Are you sure nothing’s amiss?”

Emma kissed him gently.  “I’m fine, Killian, I promise.  Guess I’m just having a tougher time navigating life as a working parent than I thought I would.”

“Are you sure…?”

“I am,” she said decisively.  “It’s just, we have a very busy, active toddler on our hands.  I love her like you would not believe, but by the end of the day, I’m so tired I feel like I could sleep standing up.”

Killian’s brow furrowed.  “The lass is three now, old enough to begin to understand consequences.  Perhaps we should begin discussing disciplinary tactics.”

“You know, I was thinking about that today,” Emma said, settling against Killian’s chest and resting her hand over his heart, loving the comfort his softly thumping heartbeat gave her.

 “Christmas is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I thought maybe we could make use of some of the traditions to convince her to work on her behavior.”

“Swan, if you’re referring to that Santa Claus fellow, I’m not entirely sure I approve,” Killian said, voice sternly disapproving.

Emma laughed.  “You are morally opposed to Santa Claus?  Why?”

“One cannot seem to patronize any establishment in this town without hearing his song,” Killian said, “He sees you when you’re sleeping.  He knows when you’re awake.  He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.  Swan, this Santa fellow sounds like one of the worst villains we’ve faced yet.”

Emma laughed again.  “Killian it’s just a song, and it’s all in fun.  Kids love Santa.  He’s the one who brings them presents.”

Emma could see in Killian’s face that he wasn’t convinced.

“Anyway,” she continued, “that’s not what I was talking about, not really.  There’s this other tradition parents do sometimes.  Called Elf on the Shelf.  You get this toy elf, and the idea is that it watches the kids and kind of reports to Santa.  Each night the parents move the elf, so it’s like it’s alive.  The fun of it is that the kid never knows where the elf is going to show up next.  Plus, knowing there’s an elf watching you, well, it’s extra incentive to be on your best behavior.”

“Are you daft, Swan?” Killian exclaimed.  “This ‘Elf on the Shelf’ sounds, if possible, even more horrifying than Santa Claus!  I’d rather not traumatize our daughter.” 

“Would you stop being such a drama queen?” Emma asked, laughter still evident in her voice.  “I promise you it’s all in fun.  This isn’t some Christmasy ‘scare the kid straight’ thing.   Kids love it.  It brings the magic of Christmas to life.” 

Killian was clearly still skeptical, but finally conceded.  “Very well, Swan.  We’ll try this Elf on the Shelf, but if it gives Hope nightmares, I must put my foot down.”

“Relax babe,” Emma said.  “If the elf gives Hope nightmares, I’ll personally lock it in our dungeon. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The next morning 

Killian stepped into Granny’s and made a b-line for the large booth at the back of the establishment, seeing David and Rogers already present. 

After the realms had combined, Dave had suggested he and Killian get together with Rogers, as the town decided to continue referring to his alternate reality version, to help him get adjusted to life in Storybrooke.  This get together quickly became a weekly thing.

Emma referred to their weekly breakfasts as the “brot3 convention.”  Killian hadn’t a clue what that might mean, but the phrase brought a delighted smile to Swan’s face, and that was enough to make Killian adopt the language.  There was very little he wouldn’t do to make his wife smile. 

“Hey Killian! Good to see you,” David said. 

Killian noted the fatigue in his father-in-law’s eyes and the yawn he was attempting to stifle. 

“The lass keep you up last night?” he asked sympathetically.

David and Mary Margaret’s daughter Ava was quickly approaching her first birthday.  She’d come as a surprise to the couple who’d believed their family was complete after the birth of Neal, but she was a very welcome and loved surprise. 

“Yeah,” David said, and then took a bracing sip of his coffee.  “She was up every two hours last night.” 

“I thought you said she’d finally begun sleeping through the night,” Rogers said. 

“She did,” David said, “but I think she’s teething.  Runny nose, running a bit of a fever, wanting to chew on everything.” 

Both Hooks nodded in understanding and sympathy.  “I don’t miss those days with my Alice,” Rogers said.   

Their conversation was put on hold as a waitress, wearing a festive Santa hat and necklace made of Christmas lights, took their order. 

“So how about you, Killian?” David asked after the waitress walked away, “How’s everything going with your family?” 

Killian frowned.  “I must admit, I’m a bit concerned about Emma.  She’s been so exhausted lately and a couple of times she’s gotten dizzy.  She insists it’s nothing, but I’m near to insisting she visit Doctor Whale.”

“Tired and feeling faint?” David asked.  “Any other issues?”

“It was the strangest thing,” Killian said, furrowing his brow.  “This morning I attempted to serve her her customary PopTart for breakfast, but she insisted she couldn’t stomach it.  She actually asked for boiled mackerel and grapefruit.” 

“Tired, feeling faint, and with significant changes in appetite,” David listed off.  To Killian’s surprise (and consternation) a grin covered his father-in-law’s face.  “I think Emma’s right.  I think you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Other than life getting significantly busier in eight or nine months,” Rogers said with a grin identical to David’s. 

It took Killian a moment to put the dots together, but then his eyes widened.  “You think Emma could be with child?” 

“I have very little experience with these things, my own daughter’s birth being so very….unorthodox,” Rogers said, “but it certainly seems possible.” 

Killian felt the joy bubble up in him.  Another child!  He and Swan may have another child.  It was a blessing he hadn’t even allowed himself to wish for, given the difficulties they’d had conceiving Hope. 

“I suppose there was that one weekend away we had just before Thanksgiving,” Killian said slowly, “when Alice and Robin stayed with Hope.  We did engage in copious amounts of intimate activities…” 

Rogers barked out a laugh and David groaned, reminding Killian of just how much his father-in-law did not want to hear the specifics. 

Breakfast was a joyous affair following the pregnancy speculation, the three men discussing their lives over the past week. 

Killian walked home with an extra spring in his step.  This Christmas was shaping up to be one of the best he’d ever had. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Grandma, what do you think about putting the wreath here?” Lucy asked, holding the Disney’s Captain Hook themed wreath against their front door. 

Emma laughed.  “Looks great kid.  It’ll get a good natured grumble out of your gramps every time he walks by.”

It was still weird to get used to being called Grandma, but Emma’s heart warmed at the thought that Henry was back to stay and that she’d have the chance to get to know her daughter-in-law and granddaughter in a way she’d missed out on over the first decade of Lucy’s life.

Lucy laughed, turning to Charming to ask him to hammer a nail for her so she could hang the wreath.

It had become a Christmastime tradition since the merging of the realms.  The whole family got together to decorate each other’s houses and then have dinner together.  This weekend, a mere two weeks before Christmas, it was the Swan-Jones household’s turn to host (and get decorated). 

Emma took a step back, watching as her family, her whole, big boisterous extended family worked to make her home look like something out of the Hallmark channel.  Regina and Zelena stood by the impressively large pine tree stringing garland, Alice, Robin and Rogers worked to make the hearth festive, Henry, Jacinda, Killian and her dad were braving the frigid temperatures outside to string lights on the bushes and the front of the house, Neal was occupying Hope in the playroom, Ava napped in the nursery and Snow worked away in the kitchen on what Emma was sure would be an amazing dinner. 

It was the type of scene you’d see in one of those cheesy Christmas movies.  Happy family enjoying each other’s company while they decorate for Christmas and listen to carols.  It was even picture perfect outside, with the snow gently falling. 

It was perfect, and Emma loved every minute of it.

While Hope was occupied with Neal, Emma grabbed the elf on the shelf, looking around for the perfect place to move him.  Maybe she’d put him in Hope’s room tonight. 

Emma wasn’t sure if the elf was all that effective as a disciplinary tool.  She hadn’t noticed a significant lessening of mischief since she and Killian had introduced “Eli the Elf”, but Hope certainly seemed delighted in looking for him every morning. 

And the joy on her daughter’s face was really what was most important, when it came down to it.  It was Christmas, the time for child-like wonder. 

Emma wandered into the kitchen, pausing for a moment and taking stock of her stomach.  Seemed like smells nauseated her at the drop of a hat lately—one of the main reasons her mom had offered to make the meal for their get together (the other being neither she nor Killian could cook worth a damn).  Emma sighed in relief when she noticed the smells elicited hunger rather than nausea. 

“Anything I can help you with, mom?” 

Snow turned from the stove where she was stirring something as it bubbled merrily away.  “You sure you’re feeling up to it?  I know how rough it can be in the early months.” 

Emma gave her mom an assessing look, subconsciously placing a protective hand over her belly.  “You know, don’t you?” 

Snow abandoned the pot on the stove and rushed over to give Emma a warm, motherly hug.  “About the baby?  Your father told when he came home from the last brot3 convention.  Oh Emma!  I’m so excited for you and Killian!  Is it official?  Do you know for sure?” 

Emma felt the familiar mix of anticipation, joy and fear bubble up inside her.  After his last breakfast with the guys, Killian had come home with a smile on his face. 

“What’s up with you?” she’d asked.  “I haven’t seen you so excited since they had that buy one get one special on rum at The Rabbit Hole.”

Killian had led her to the couch.  “It’s been some time since your last monthly, hasn’t it?”

 “Uh…yeah.  I guess I’m a few days late.  Why?”

“I was talking to your father and Rogers…”

“You were talking to my father about my period?” she asked, brows furrowed. 

He laughed. “Of course not, love!  I merely mentioned your fatigue and appetite changes.”

“Okay…..” 

“Your father…” Killian said, taking her hand, “your father raised the possibility that there could be a very specific cause for your symptoms.  Love, is it possible you’re with child again?” 

Emma’s eyes had widened, the possibility not even entering her mind before he brought it up.   

“With child?  Killian, we haven’t even been trying.” 

“No, but we’ve also not not been trying,” he said. “And I can recall a few very satisfying encounters over the past few weeks that could have very well resulted in a new life…” 

Snow tapped Emma on the shoulder, and Emma realized she’d spaced out, her face flaming slightly as her mind went to a few of those “very satisfying encounters”.  Killian’s skills as a lover were ridiculous.  She’d really hit the jackpot. 

“Uh…sorry mom,” Emma said, “what were you saying?” 

“I was asking if you got it confirmed.” 

“No,” Emma said, thinking of the pregnancy test currently residing in their bathroom medicine cabinet.  “I’m a little afraid to take the pregnancy test, to be honest.” 

Snow led Emma to a chair at her dining room table and urged her to sit.  “Why, honey?” 

Emma shrugged.  “What if it’s negative?  I mean I have all the classic symptoms, and this is exactly how I felt with Hope, but….I mean, we had such a hard time getting pregnant with Hope. What if this is just some weird flu or something?  Killian and I are already excited about Baby Swan-Jones #2.  If it turns out he or she isn’t actually on the way…” 

Snow reached over and hugged Emma.  “For what it’s worth, from what your father told me, I really, really don’t think this is a false alarm, but if it is…” Snow shrugged. “Well if it is a false alarm, you and Killian can have lots of fun trying to make it a reality over the next few months.” 

“Mom!” Emma said. 

Snow shrugged again, a wicked grin on her face.  “Remember, I know how much you and Killian enjoy…pancakes.” 

Emma made her hasty exit, opting to check on the kids before her mother started talking about her own taco sessions with David.

Still, apart from the very uncomfortable thought of discussing her sex life with her mother, Snow had a point.  What did she and Killian have to lose?  She resolved she’d take the pregnancy test the very next day. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The next afternoon, around nap time. 

Hope Swan-Jones was not happy.  

She wasn’t sleepy.  Why did Mama make her take naps?  Sleeping was no fun at all!  Uncle Neal didn’t have to take naps; why should she? 

She’d asked Mama that one day, and Mama said it was because Neal was twelve years old.  Twelve-year-olds didn’t have to take naps. 

Hope wished she was twelve.  Not three. 

Hope glanced over at the shelf high on the wall and noticed Eli the Elf peering down at her.  She stuck her small, pink tongue out at him.

“I’m not going to go to sleep,” she said rebelliously, “and I don’t care if you tell Santa!” 

Hope continued to look at Eli as her eyelids started getting heavy in spite of herself.  That was another thing.  Why didn’t Mama and Daddy ever let her play with Eli?  He was a doll just like the others she had in her play chest.  Why couldn’t she play with him?

Hope knew better than to leave her bed when Mama said to take a nap, but still, she reached out her hand as though to reach for the elf.  Suddenly she felt kind of funny, like there was something warm and bubbly just under her skin.  She watched in amazement as a beam of white light shot from her outstretched fingers, and suddenly Eli the Elf was zooming towards her, right into her arms. 

Did…did she have magic like Mama did? 

Maybe she should try again. 

She looked at the elf and then reached her hand out the way Mama did when she did magic.  “I want you to play with me, elf,” she whispered. 

The strange warm bubbly feeling happened again, and another burst of magic shot out.  

Suddenly Eli the Elf stood up on his own, blinked twice and then grinned at her in a way Daddy would have said meant trouble. 

“Eli the Elf at your service,” he said with a bow.  “So kid, you ready to have some fun?” 

Hope glanced toward the door, afraid Mama would hear.  “Shhhhhh!” she said. “We’re supposed to be asleep!” 

The elf rolled his eyes.  “Naps are for Grinches.  You’re not a Grinch, are you, kid?”

She shook her head no. 

“Good,” Eli said, “so here’s what I think we should do next….”

Eli the Elf went on to outline a plan of chaos that made Hope’s eyes widen.  Surely he wouldn’t dare! 

She shook her head.  “We can’t!  We’ll get in trouble!” 

“The threat of getting caught is half the fun,” Eli said, before jumping off the bed and making a dash for the partially opened door.  “I’m going to do it, whether you follow me or not.” 

Hope climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the door.   She had to stop him!  She was going to be in so much trouble! 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

That evening 

Killian closed Hope’s door and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen where he set about preparing a nice steaming mug of hot cocoa. 

He had a feeling Swan would need it after the day she’d had. 

Killian had come home from the station, smile on his lips and spring in his step…only to find the living room in shambles and Emma on the couch crying. 

He’d rushed to her.  “Swan!  What happened?  Are you hurt?  Is Hope alright?” 

Emma swiped at her cheeks and got to her feet.  “We’re fine, Killian,” she rushed to reassure, stepping into his arms and burying her face in his chest.  “It’s just…I’m so damn tired, and she was supposed to be napping, and I come downstairs, and…well, just look!” 

Emma gestured to the living room.  The bottom half of the Christmas tree was completely bare, the baubles that had previously adorned its branches were strewn over the floor, a couple of the delicate glass ones broken against the hearth. 

His eyes widened.  Hope had done this? 

“Swan, there must be some mistake,” he said, “Hope is mischievous, to be sure, but she’s never blatantly engaged in destruction and she loves our Christmas tree.” 

Emma collapsed on the couch, pulling him with her.  “She was in here, Killian,” Emma said, one fat tear of exhaustion rolling down her face.  “I caught her red-handed.  Literally.  She was holding that stupid red Santa ornament in her hand when I showed up.  When I asked her what she was doing, she lied to me. Lied right to my face.” 

“That doesn’t sound like my lass at all,” Killian said, his brow furrowing as he wrapped his wife in his comforting embrace.  “I’ve never known her to speak a falsehood.  What happened?” 

“She told me…get this…she told me Eli the Elf did it!  That damn elf on the shelf was lying on the ground next to the tree.  Not only did she disobey me and leave her room during naptime, she somehow got her hands on the elf, went on a tree destroying spree, and then lied to me.  Killian, I don’t even know what to do with her anymore!” 

Emma started crying in earnest, and Killian hugged her to him, rocking her slightly and caressing her hair.  “Where is the lass now, love?” 

“She’s in her room,” Emma said, voice thick with tears.  “I…Killian, I kind of lost my temper.  I raised my voice a little.  She looked so surprised and almost, I don’t know, betrayed.  I sent her to her room, because apparently I can’t parent worth a crap, but I wanted a chance to cool down before I said anything else to her that I might regret.” 

“Sh,” Killian said. “Emma you are a wonderful mother.  Never doubt that.  We all lose our temper and have moments we aren’t particularly proud of.  We’ll sort this out.  Together.” 

He’d stayed with Emma a few more moments, holding her as she cried, and then he’d gone to have a talk with Hope. 

Now, 20 minutes later, steaming mug of cocoa in hand, he returned to the Christmas carnage that was their living room. 

Emma took the cocoa with a grateful smile.  “How is she?”

Killian’s brow furrowed.  “She’s settled for the moment, and she seems quite apologetic over what happened.  What say we put this tree to rights, aye?” 

“Killian, you don’t have to…” she called after him as he began gathering discarded ornaments and placing them on the tree.  “I can just zap it with my magic…” 

“Nonsense, love,” he said, “you’re exhausted and at your wits end.  Rest, let me handle this.”

He made quick work of righting the tree as he heard Emma sigh behind him.  As he worked, his brow furrowed.  He knew Emma was upset after her difficult day with Hope, but he knew Emma Swan-Jones, perhaps better than she knew herself.  There was something else on her mind, something else that was causing her significant distress. 

Killian set the last bauble on the tree and then sat beside his wife, opening his arms and waiting for her to settle against him before he spoke. 

“Swan, I know when your heart is heavy,” he said.  “Share your burden with me.  What’s amiss?” 

“Well Hope…” 

He stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips.  “Aye, she’s been rather difficult today, but there’s more isn’t there?”

She glanced aside, before reaching for the small box on the coffee table and handing it to him.   

He glanced at it, noting it was one of those wands that could tell if a woman was with child. 

“Swan…?” 

“I…I thought I should take the test,” Emma said, voice thick, “you know, to make sure we’re really pregnant like we think we are.”

“But it’s still in its box unopened.” 

“Yeah,” she said, glancing aside.  “I wanted to wait for you to take it, and then…” 

“Then?” He prompted. 

“Well I got scared.” 

“Of what?” he said, hugging her to him, “what frightens you?” 

She was quiet for a moment, taking the test back, and turning the box over and over absent-mindedly.  “What if it’s negative?” 

Killian rubbed her back in a comforting motion.  “Swan, we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.”

“But I know how excited you are already about this kid…What if…?” 

Killian stopped her with a soft kiss.  “Emma, I would be delighted to welcome a new wee pirate or princess into our home, but even if it doesn’t happen, even if it never happens, I will be perfectly contented.  I have a wife I adore, a daughter I love beyond measure, and a step son with a family to dote upon.” 

She sat up and looked carefully at him.  “Do you really mean that?” 

“Aye,” he said with a decisive nod.  “But I can see the toll this uncertainty is taking upon you.  Perhaps it’s best if we find out once and for all.”

Emma took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself for whatever was to come, and then she got to her feet, taking the box with her.  “Okay, I’m going to go take the test.  Wait here.” 

Emma padded to the powder room off the kitchen, emerging two minutes later, pregnancy test in hand. “Okay, babe, moment of truth,” she said, handing him the small, white wand.  “I can’t look.” 

Killian took a deep breath and then looked down. 

Two pink lines.

“Swan,” he said, smile suffusing his whole face, “it’s positive!” 

She reached for the device, looking for herself before letting out a joyful shout.  “Positive!  Killian, we’re gonna have a baby!” 

Killian got to his feet, enveloped her in his arms and swung her around, both of them laughing and crying.  Emma leaned down and captured Killian’s lips with her own, pouring all of her joy and relief into her kiss.  They collapsed back onto the couch, the kiss continuing as they smiled against each other’s lips. 

Suddenly a shout pierced through their haze of love and happiness.  A shout coming from the direction of Hope’s bedroom. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hope swiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks.  It wasn’t fair; it just wasn’t fair!  Eli the Elf was the one who did the bad things and she got in trouble for it.

No one believed her.  Not even Daddy.  Oh, he wasn’t as upset as Mama was, but he didn’t believe her either; she could see it in his face. 

And he was disappointed in her.  That was the worst. 

She wished Eli the Elf had never come here!

As soon as she’d followed him from her bedroom and saw him about to start messing up their pretty tree, she’d tried to stop him.  She’d tried to use her magic like Mama did, but it hadn’t worked.  Maybe Hope sized magic wasn’t as powerful as Mama sized magic.

When her magic hadn’t worked, she’d tried to catch him and make him stop, but he was too fast for her. 

He wouldn’t stop until Mama walked into the room.  Then he played dead and let Hope get in trouble. 

“How long you gonna let them keep you couped up in here, kid?” Eli asked from the shelf where Mama had tossed him when she marched Hope to her room.  “The Christmas tree was fun, but there are lots of bigger and better things we can do to shake up this place a little.” 

“Don’t you dare!” Hope growled at him under her breath.  “You already made Mama yell at me and cry.”

Eli shrugged, and hopped down from the shelf, opening her drawers, rifling through, tossing toys and clothes every which way. 

“You stop that right now!” Hope shouted. 

The little imp ignored her, continuing on with his perusal of her things.

Hope was normally a good tempered child.  She rarely got upset, but now, finally this elf had gone too far.  She was not going to get in trouble again for something he did!  She closed her eyes, concentrated as hard as she could and then thrust her arm toward the elf.

Hope knew her magic was working even before it shot from her fingers, the warmth and electricity flowing from her surrounded the elf, wrapping him in light magic bands, like a glowing rope. 

“There!” she cried triumphantly.  “Now I’ve got you!” 

Eli the elf grinned.  It was not a pleasant sight. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Eli said in a smug voice.  “You see kid, your magic brought me to life.  It can’t stop me.  It can only make me stronger.” 

Hope watched in horror as Eli puffed himself up until he got bigger and bigger and bigger.  Soon he was almost as big as Daddy. 

“Mama!  Daddy!” Hope screamed, knowing things had gone completely out of her control. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Killian burst through the nursery door, his hook at the ready, prepared to battle whatever foe was menacing his daughter. 

Or so he thought. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the Elf on the Shelf not only alive but gigantic.  For a moment, he stood frozen in the doorway, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide, and then he jumped into action, bursting through the door, putting himself in between Hope and her elf. 

“Cygnet go!  Get to safety!”

The elf laughed, knocking Killian aside as though he were merely a ragdoll.  “You think you can defeat me?” the elf taunted.  “You think you can…” 

But before he could finish his thought, suddenly he shrunk, eyes becoming glassy, body turning back to cloth and cotton.

“Yeah, I’m sure he could have,” Emma said, stepping into the room and kicking the elf she’d just turned back into a toy, “but he doesn’t have to.  I’ll take great pleasure in kicking your…” she glanced toward Hope “butt all the way back to the North Pole.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Several hours later, Emma climbed into her big, comfortable four-poster bed and burrowed into her husband’s warmth. 

“So, never a dull moment in Storybrooke is there?” she said, deadpan. 

Killian laughed, rubbing comforting circles along her back.  “Final battle won, final villain defeated, and yet it still seems there’s more excitement in this small burg than in any of the realms.”

Emma chuckled and then sobered.  “I didn’t believe her, Killian.  My own daughter, and I didn’t believe her when she told us the truth about what happened.  What kind of a person does that make me?” 

“A human being,” Killian said gently.  “Her story was rather outlandish.  I had my doubts as well, if you’ll recall.  Hope is resilient love.  She knows how much you love her, and she’s forgiven you already.” 

After she’d zapped the elf, turned it back into an inanimate object and then locked it in their creepy Dark One dungeon that they kept padlocked until they could figure out how to turn it back into a normal basement, Emma had returned to Hope’s bedroom and given her a long, comforting hug, feeling her toddler sniff against her as the fear and excitement of the day slowly receded. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Emma murmured into Hope’s riotous blond curls.  “I should have listened when you tried to tell me the truth.”

 “It’s okay Mama,” Hope said.  “It was my fault Eli comed to life.”

Hope had gone on to explain the whole story to her stunned parents. 

“We really did make an amazing kid, didn’t we?” Emma said.  “How did it never even occur to us that she might have magic?” 

“A terrible oversight on our part, love,” Killian said, chuckling.  “She’s the second generation product of True Love.  Of bloody course she has magic.” 

“We need to talk to Regina, have her train Hope, get a handle on this thing,” Emma said.  “Magic’s great, but man can it go wrong if you don’t have it controlled.” 

Killian kissed her.  “Aye.”  Reaching down, he cupped her still-flat stomach, caressing their unborn child in the only way he could at the moment.  “What do you think are the odds this wee one will have magic as well?” 

Emma groaned.  “We’re in for a wild ride with two of them, aren’t we?” 

Killian laughed.  “That we are, Swan, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.  Together, this family can handle anything.” 

Emma hummed in agreement, and for a moment they fell silent, and then Killian chuckled.

“What?” she asked, noting the mischievous look in his eyes.

“I think it would only be good form, love, for you to admit that I was right about the Elf on the Shelf.” 

Emma rolled her eyes with a grin.  “And you’re never going to let me forget it, are you?” 

He shook his head.  “Never.” 

Emma sighed.  “There’s going to be no living with you after this.  I dread the moment you learn about the Easter Bunny.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[polizwrites]

PoliZ's WIP Update - 24 Jul 2024

Very busy IRL = not much time for writing.   I touched four  fics (2 new & 2 WIPs) - for a total of 1294 words.   

On Ao3, I posted: 

 Hell Bent for Leather - established Stony Mature ficlet

All Our Faults Laid Bare - WinterIron getting together Mature one-shot

WinterIron Bingo Round Robin - July 2024 -  eventual WinterIron one-shot 

Conflicting Priorities - wartime Stucky Explicit  shenanigans one-shot

On Tumblr I posted: 

  Beating a Hasty Retreat -  teenage platonic Stucky ficlet 

I’m juggling  20+  active/semi-active WIPs with my current  deadline being the July Break Bingo, which runs for the month of July.  

See  below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc.  As always, feel free to send me   prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding  any of these projects  or any other WIPs I’ve got out there.   Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Fluffy Steve Fest 2024  [FSF_24] (runs 1-7 Jul 2024)

Masterlist posted! 

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 3 [SRB_R3] (ends  15 Jul 2024)

Ended up with Twenty-six  fills - using two adoptables.  I’ll be putting together a masterlist sometime soon.  

July Break Bingo [JBB_24] (runs 1-31 Jul) 

@julybreakbingo  is a fantastic any-fandom bingo event designed to spark creativity during the month of July! I’m combining squares with Hot Bucky Summer prompts and my Bucky Barnes Bingo card, as well as a few with the Fluffy Steve Fest and Steve Rogers Bingo -  check those sections for details!   As of now, I have 15 prompts filled and 3 in WIP form, with a couple more  potentially planned. 

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 [HBS_R2] (Ends 31 Aug)

More fun from the @buckybarnesevents folks - this time weekly challenges to create (usually NSFW) Bucky-centric fanworks!   Thanks to the July Break Bingo (see above)  and Bucky Barrnes Bingo - I now have ideas/mini-outlines for each week of July plus one week of August. 

* Week 7 July 13th - July 19th -  “Put this on for me.” + Blindfolds  + Collars  -- Posted  All Our Faults Laid Bare on Friday.  I went back to  WinterIron for this - Tony trying to hide the results of a D/s scene gone too far and Bucky steps in to help. It crosses over  over with:  JBB O5 - "Where did you get this?"  + Alt1 - None of us want to be fully revealed. All our faults and weaknesses laid bare for the world. + Alt5 - Love as patience.   and came in at 900 words even. 

* Week 8 July 20th - July 26th -   “Maybe this'll help you relax”  + Cockwarming  -- Posted Conflicting Priorities  this morning. Wartime Stucky sexy shenanigans with Bucky being a little shit.  It came in a  bit shorter than my other HBS fics at 581 words and crossed over with  BaBB July: Deepthroating, BBB: U1 - KINK: "Please let me come." & JBB:   O4 - I'm gonna remember this."  + N4 - Priorities.  

* Week 9 July 27th - August 2nd - FREE WEEK | Optional Prompts: WAM (Wet & Messy).  More wartime Stucky sexy shenanigans.  Post-Rebirth, Steve is very … productive when he comes, and Bucky is 100% here for it.  Overflowing with Passion is sitting at 571 words and crosses over with  BaBB: July: Bukkake,   BBB: B4 - Showoff  JBB: I2 - "I feel disgusting." + N1- "Are you done?" + Alt2 - Love as passion.  Planning to post it on the 31st.  

* Week 10 August 3rd - August 9th --  “Shhhhhhhhh…” + Gagged  + Voyeurism - Possibly Chapter 3 of  Coming Clean. Bucky’s POV - Tony blabbering about how he doesn’t want to come between Steve & Bucky - so the two of them shut him up in the best way.   See  if Aug BaBB or TSB prompts fit. 

* Week 11 August 10th - August 16th  “You look good like this.” + Kneeling  + Tied Down  +  Ruined.   -- Possibly Chapter 3   of  The Business of Pleasure -  backtrack with Steve POV?    See if Aug BaBB or TSB prompts fit.  

* Week 12 - August 17th - August 23rd  – “What should I wear?” + Nothing -  Got inspired by a song lyric to come up with a Greco-Roman wrestling challenge - can’t decide if it’s WinterIron or WinterHawk - any preferences?  See if Aug BaBB or TSB prompts fit.  

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] (Ends TBD) 

Working on this  Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and am looking forward to creating more  Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of  Kate Bishop fic as well!    

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?    

* C1 - Magic -  Combined this with a previous Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF259 House of Cards]   for   Keep a Steady Hand.  Clint notices Bucky getting frustrated with a task and offers to help.  It came in at 632 words and will post to Ao3 possibly later this month.  

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] (Ends 1 Sep 2024)

Another fun year-long  event from the folks at  @buckybarnesevents!  Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one  each month for your card!  At twenty-four  fills and two WIPs with three months to go, I seem to be going a bit overboard …. 😁

* May:  Bucky’s Trigger Words -  combined this with last week’s  Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF251 Out There] for Just To Live One Day Out There - a Winter Soldier self-reflective ficlet. It came in at 312 words and will get posted to Ao3 Real Soon. 

* May:  Praise Kink - Filling this with Chapter Six of A Little Bit Carried Away where Alpha!Bucky and omega!Tony get to live out their fantasies.  It’s sitting at 1166 words and will get posted on Friday.  

*July: Sharing Clothes - Also filling this with Chapter Six of A Little Bit Carried Away.  

* July: Deep Throating -  see HBS Week 8 above.   

* July: Bukkake, - see HBS Week 9  above

WinterIron Bingo Round 2  [WIB_R2] (Ends 16 Dec 2024)

Signups are still open for pre-made cards for Round Two of this super-fun bingo event! I have fifteen  fills and zero WIPs at the moment - setting this aside for the moment, as I have other time-sensitive events going.  

* Iron Soldier (One Bingo, One Fill) - looking at combining my Column B prompts: Matchmaker, Bucky Riding Tony, Stark Gala, Inside Joke and Threesome.  Still working on a plot - if you have any suggestions/want-to-sees - let me know! 

* I1 - A/B/O: Knotting  - see BaBB May: Praise Kink above.  

* I3 - Car Sex -  Have a fun ficlet in mind for this - some of the dialogue & such already worked out in my head.   Possibly combine with JBB B3 - "You're in denial." 

*I4 - SHIELD HQ - combined this with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF245 You Never Cared] and wrote Fathers Don’t Know Best  -  No Power AU with Bucky working as an analyst at SHIELD who stumbles across a late night visitor to the lobby.  It came in at 407 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends.  

* N1 - Hair Pulling Kink -  thanks to a fun prompt from @scottxlogan  - I filled this square with Untangling Their Attraction - where Tony’s offer of assistance leads to mutual kink discovery (not as racy as it might sound).  It’s coming in at 544 words and will post to Ao3 before this event is over. 

* N5 - "I'm here for you."  - Possibly the next chapter of  Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion ?  

* July Adoptable: Shameless Flirt - filled this with my contribution to the  WinterIron Bingo Round Robin - July 2024, where Tony is kidnapped by the Asset and still flirts with the guy.  I wrote 375 words towards the fic, which posted this morning. 

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Round Six [BBB - R6]  (Ends 31 Mar)

This amazing bingo event from the folks over at @buckybarnesbingo is back!  I have seven   fills, and three WIPs and have several more crossovers planned. 

* B4 - Showoff - see HBS Week 9 above.

* U1 - KINK: "Please let me come."   Conflicting Priorities  -  see HBS Week 8 above

* K4 - Last Times/Farewells - combined this with a previous  Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF257 Count The Days ] for  Short-Timing It - a pre-war (just barely) Bucky & Steve (Stucky if you squint) ficlet. It came in at 313 words and will post to Ao3 before the event is over.   

Warm and Fluffy   Bingo  [WFB]   (no end date)

Eight fills on my card, courtesy of   @warmandfluffybingocards  - need to try for another crossover or two!

* I2 - Vulnerable Drunk - matched this up with a previous Flash Fiction Friday prompt of [#FFF258 Milky Way Dreams]  for Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines -  a MIT-era Tony & Rhodey ficlet, where a drunk Tony shares a childhood dream with his best friend.  It came in at 318 words and will get posted to Ao3 at some point.   

————

On  other creative fronts:  I am working on a Stitch head (ornament) and a King Kong for a custom commission.       

If  you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check  out Stuffed With Character    over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!).   These soft stuffed figures are  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design   requests  for any fandom!

[sweetfirebird]

So I did some more fake reddit posts for my characters. They are only vaguely in reddit-style format but I also don't really care. They are meant to be silly.

r/advice

So, my brother is hung up on the son of the family we work for. Sorry. I don’t like beating around the bush, but I should probably back up a little, I suppose. My brother and I are all that are left of our family. Don’t ask. We don’t like to talk about it. I’m older, so I have done my best to look out for him. Not that he allows very much—he thinks he has to protect me, which is… Anyway. Since we lost them, he has done his best to be strong, and that might seem nice on the surface, but I worried about that too, because that is not who he was before everything happened. He’s guarded now, keeps to himself, and tries not to get attached. But I think beneath his stone face, he is the same gentle, loving boy he was before. The kind who read the histories and believed in all the fae tales and love stories. Which brings me to the current problem.

He’s fallen in love with the fucking beat-of---with the son of the wealthy family we work for. We’d barely settled here and he started getting stars in his eyes for this kid—not a kid. He’s of age, just small.

I didn’t know what to say at first. It’s a bad idea, messing around with any beat-of-four, but especially one from an eccentric family like this one. But for years, my brother has been so avoidant of any softer emotions and I wanted him to find some happiness.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s had lovers, as far as I can tell, but not lovers. No one he talked to me about. No one he brought to meet me. Mostly… well, mostly people that don’t think of him as anything other than a pretty face. That might be unfair. Maybe some of them did, but he wouldn’t let them closer. I don’t know. Like I said, he didn’t mention talk to me about them.

Then this kid… boy… man. This weird little beat-of-four. Compared to the rest of his family, he’s actually not that weird. But sometimes talking to him is like talking to a fae pretending to be a human and not quite sure how to do it. He means well, I think. Or I thought. I don’t know. He treats people well. I will say that of him. Even the people who work for him.

So I decided to encourage my brother in this. He was speaking to me about it, after all, and I watched the little beat-of-four for a while to judge how he felt, and he seemed, to me at least, as if he was just as starry eyed over my brother. But he must have just been enamored with my brother’s face like all the others, because my brother told me he planned to offer him a courtship, then suddenly became withdrawn again and no longer spent any time around that little… around this other man.

Which he had done a lot of, I realized later. Riding together and talking… or at least, listening while the other one talked and talked, and the more that happened, the more my brother had opened up to me. I should have noticed it sooner, how deep his feelings went. Not that it should matter now, since that is all over.

Except. Except… the young beat-of-four has been… well, in a normal person, I would call it moping. He dares, he fucking dares, to gaze longingly after my brother as though he is a pining lover in a song. Even though, from what little my brother has revealed, he is the one who refused the offer of courtship.

But whatever. The family doesn’t treat us differently although the head of the family almost certainly knows something happened. And the boy in question probably going to be sent off soon for some beat-of-four arrangement. My brother is clearly not happy about that, and yet I think he’s planning on escorting that little… on escorting him to meet his potential betrothed. Because my brother’s an idiot who believes in fae tales… and in this boy, for some reason. Maybe because the boy is fae, in a sense. My brother thinks this beat-of-four boy with money and power… and a strange, distant family and no friends, granted… needs protecting. And he will do it because he… I think he loves him. And I am trying to respect that and to acknowledge that everyone is allowed their own feelings. But it’s my brother who needs to be protected, and my brother who finally reached for something soft again, and my brother who would probably leap in front of an arrow to save that… tiny moping weirdo. So I’m not being very understanding about it, and it’s making my brother close off again. So. I need to know how to… if not forgive then at least not drag this boy into my kitchen and stick a blade under his chin and tell him to forbid my brother from escorting him anywhere.

He'd probably agree with me. That’s the thing. The thing I… the thing I think my brother sees in him. The thing he admires so much.

It might even be why this boy said no to the courtship, because his family is going to send him away. There’s no getting out it, not how I can see.

That’s bullshit. If he… that’s some beat-of-four “noble duty” bullshit and I hate that my brother would admire that too. I hate that it makes sense to me that this oddboy would say no if he thought my brother needed to hear it. And I hate feeling sorry for that kid, but I won’t feel sorry for him if my brother is tasked with taking him to find his happiness elsewhere.

So. How do I not kill him?

Waiting in the Kitchen with My Blade