#second life au

[pink-link-lemonade]

[Coughing baby sound effect]

These two.

Every time I look at this, the phrase “Goes ding ding when I walk” pops into my head. Idk what that’s supposed to mean honestly but it’s definitely positive.

60ft angelic fuck meets 50ft sweetheart :)

|| MVA!Sonic/BB: @weirdozjunkary ||

[feyhunter78]

Hold My Heart (Between Your Teeth) Ch 1/?

Description: She would not be queen; she would not watch her husband destroy the continent over a senile old man’s dying whispers. Not when he ignored and belittled her, tossing her aside whenever someone new crossed his path.

Seraphine flees her husband's coronation, and wakes up ten and eight again on the very day her and Aegon first met. Bracing herself to be met with the same dismal fate as before, she finds things have changed and Aegon is not the same man she knows. Armed with new knowledge and a changed Aegon by her side, she faces the ever nearing war with renewed determination. She would live, Aegon would not be king, and perhaps this time around they can be happy.

She stands beside her husband as he crowned king. Watches as he grows prideful, as the cheers of the smallfolk fill his ears and drive out any sense he had left. He shakes off her hand, striding forward, his footsteps are swallowed by the noise of the crowd, and it hits her. This is not the man who saved her from Fleabottom ages ago, he hadn’t been that man for years. How had she never noticed? Was she that blind, that caught up in the fantasy of him she created in her head?

He was no hero, no great protector of hers. He was just a man, weak and easily swayed by false flattery. He’d never intended to save her that night, never meant to become her protector.

Seraphine turned and fled. She would not be queen; she would not watch her husband destroy the continent over a senile old man’s dying whispers. She raced to their chambers, ignoring the guards who called out to her. A flash of brown caught her eyes and she felt something catch her ankle, then she was falling. Down, down, down the stone steps bite into her skin, and then it all goes dark.

She awoke in darkness. The sheets beneath her were scratchy, and old, she reached for Aegon, but her hand met nothing but air. Rising from the bed, she threw open the curtains and her stomach began to churn uncomfortably, nausea rising in her throat. She dove for the nearest wastebasket and hurled, one hand collecting her hair and holding it back, wisps of crimson hairs still finding their way into her vision.

“You can’t be with child, you haven’t even made a sale yet, why you wasting good food?” Danica, the madame of the Golden Lady, hovers above her, lips twisted in a scowl.

“Where am I?” Seraphine croaks, reaching for the bucket of water and rinsing her mouth.

“Where are you? You wake up with a case of daft? You’re in my establishment, where your aunt and uncle dumped you, because they couldn’t stand your yapping.”

No, that’s not right. My aunt and uncle sold me to the brothel after my parents died. They needed the money and didn’t want me. “What day is it?”

“It’s your selling day, I waited till you’d bleed, and then since the laws changed, I waited till you’d grown, out of the goodness of me heart, but now you have to join the rest of the girls.” She yanks Seraphine up and brushes her off. “Get some breakfast in you, then put something other than these rags on.”

Seraphine wants to hurl again, but there’s nothing left, so she swallows hard and nods. Danica was not a patron saint of patience.

She brushes past the madame and wanders down to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. Wild red hair, tired green eyes, fading freckles from being denied the sun, and a lack of grief that comes with your husband ignoring you night after night. Not that being back in the brothel at ten and eight is any better. She swipes a meager meal from the kitchen and trudges back up to her room, the bread is dry, and the jam has gone hard. A far cry from the delicacies she’s been eating since Aegon found her, to the time of her death.

She racks her brain, this isn’t a dream, it’s too realistic to be a dream, and there’s no magic that she’s aware of that can create such elaborate illusions. Concentrating hard, she tries to remember her last moments. Then it hits her, the remaining Lord Strong, the master of whispers who always had an unkind word for her. He must have sent her down the stairs with his cane. Her hands curl into fists. Once she returns to the Keep, she’s going to kill him.

“Sera, Danica wants you.” Jayne, a dark haired girl with sweet brown eyes, knocks on her doorframe. Seraphine’s always had a soft spot for the older girl, she was kind, and defended her from lechers when Seraphine had to fill in as barmaid. This time she’d have to beg Aegon to buy Jayne’s freedom as well, she doesn’t remember why she didn’t in her previous life.

Oh gods, was I a royal asshole like the rest of them?

Shaking off the thought, she stands, shoving the rest of her breakfast in her mouth. “Yeah, I know, she’s been in my ear all morning.” She groans, pulling on the nicest dress she owns and giving Jayne a quick squeeze before making her way to Danica’s office.

I swear I’ll come back for you. She internally promises the girl.

“You’re up for auction tonight, I want you standing pretty, and keeping your mouth shut. We make a shitload of money off maidenhood auctions, and I can’t have you ruining it.”

“Of course, I won’t say a word.”

Danica raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Did the gods grant you some sense as you slept? I think that’s the first time you haven’t mouthed off to me since you got here.”

“I’ve been ungrateful for your help, I’m sorry.” As much as it pained her to apologize to Danica, she knew it was her sharp tongue that got her beat more time than she could count.

Danica crossed her arms and nodded, “you’re right, I’ve been plenty generous. You know how many customers I had asking for you before your ten and eighth nameday? But I told them no, that little firecracker is going to auction. I saved you from those pervs, ya hear?”

“I hear, thank you.”

Danica dismissed her and Seraphine wrapped her arms around herself, that nauseous feeling rising once more.

Night fell and Seraphine tried to quell her nerves, yes this would be a horrible night, and she would have nightmares for moons to come, but it was also the night she first met Aegon. She would not let him toss her aside this time, she was either blessed or cursed with the knowledge of their whole life together. Aegon would fall to his knees and beg for her touch, for her to say a kind word to him before he ever thought about becoming king.

“Down you go girl, you know where to stand.” Danica said, pushing past her to take her place behind the bar.

Seraphine wished she had gotten to choose her dress, she would have worn green, Aegon’s favorite color when they were ten and eight. Instead, she stood in a white shift up on a short round pedestal. As customers started to trickle in, she began to count in Valyrian in her head, her eyes vacant as she retreated into her mind. The jeers and unwanted touches only increased as the night deepened, and she was starting to worry. Aegon had been here by this time of night, she was sure of it.

Her silver haired boy, never one to miss the opportunity to make an entrance, burst through the door, and she felt tears of relief prick her eyes.

“I heard there’s an auction tonight.” He called out, swaying as he walked. She'd forgotten how much he drank before they met.

“You heard correct, Prince Aegon, our newest beauty has finally come of age.” Danica said, leading him over to her.

Her heart began to race, he hadn’t wanted her at first, too distracted by his favored ladies. It was only when he’d accidently open the door and interrupted her near assault, did he claim her.

But then he did something strange, he took her hand and held it to his cheek. “My nameday was a fortnight ago, and my family did not say a word.”

He was so vulnerable like this, so soft, she missed this Aegon. She cupped his cheek and his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry to hear that, my prince, every nameday should be celebrated.”

He looked up at her with that lavender gaze that kept her enthralled for years. “When is your nameday?”

“Today, my prince.” She glanced at Danica wanting to confirm she was allowed to speak this much to him and Aegon caught her chin gently.

“Do not remove your eyes from me, I need—” He cut himself off and looked at Danica. “The auction is finished; the girl is mine.” He shoved a large coin purse in Danica’s hand and helped her down from the pedestal.

“Apologies, my prince, but that isn’t how the auction works.” Danica protested.

“Collect your things, I will wait for you here.” Aegon told her, pressing a kiss to her palm before releasing it from his grip.

Seraphine dashed upstairs, heart pounding against her chest. This was not how their first encounter occurred, it had taken him moons to show her that kind of vulnerability. Had something happened to him as well?

Chapter Two here!!!!

[bethanymcsm]

Ya know something? I'm bored. So let's start a second life AU roleplay

Main characters

Gabriel the Warrior (played by me)/Lee Everet

Ellegaard the Redstone Engineer/Carley

Female Jesse (Jess)/Clementine

People's OCs

Death and storyline info

Lee and Carley die the way they do in the original canon with Clementine dying because AJ brought the axe down on her head.

The witherstorm is killed by Jess and Jesse (male Jesse) but the sickness is still going round. Gabriel and others amnesia is cured however Petra's withersickness deteriorates her outside inwards, causing her to become a black skinned, purple eyed monster set with one goal: end the world. She attacks at random and the plague spreads onto Jesse, Lukas, Axel and Olivia.

When it gets like this, Jess, Gabriel and Ellie all realise that this HAS happened to them. They can't remember why they remember a situation like this nor how they know. Together, they try to save Jesse, Lukas, Axel and Olivia but in vain. Ivor is nowhere to be seen so the trio set off, attempting to find anyone to help. Along the way, Gabriel and Ellie feel a kind of parental protectiveness for Jess. They are incredibly confused about why but for, some reason, it sits right with them, Gabriel especially. As time goes on, they form a group and our main trio slowly find their hidden memories, including visits from unexpected guests (Lee, Carley and Clementine)

Ships/Relationships

Gabriel and Jess (father/daughter)

Ellegaard and Jess (mother/daughter)

Gabriel and Ellegaard (ship)

Message me if you're interested

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[coffebits]

“I’ll always come back to you.”

(Tap the image to see it in better quality)

Zelda sci-fi AU~ Thank you so much for the love shown to this AU! I’m really enjoying creating stuff for it~

[emthimofnight]

more of my hypothetical fankid Stellar so I can push my girl dad Shadow agenda LOLLL

[ciearcab]

baseball scribbles…. save me wolfwood in a jersey … save me …

[cubbihue]

Is becoming a fairy a bad thing? If Timmy is so much happier... why IS it bad?

It's a bit like suddenly thrusting the fate of the world onto some prophesied chosen child's hands. Children shouldn't have the mental fortitude to handle any of that.

Timmy's very glad and happy he became a fairy. He just thinks no other kid should have to make such a choice. You can't get mad when the former prophesied chosen child prevents you from prophesying future children the same fate.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[hitwiththetmnt]

Spitfire AU info dump!

So I finally got around to drawing my rottmnt au idea more, so here’s some details behind the dragons♡

The dragons are manifestations of “living ninpo” and act as an extension of the turtles.

For example the dragons are in tune with each of the guys emotions/ thoughts/ instincts/ and powers but can act independently as well

They can technically choose what size they want to be, but each has a natural size that feels comfortable to them (ex: Mikey’s dragon likes to be smaller while Raph’s prefer to be bulkier)

If the guys aren’t in tune with their ninpo or are still developing it, the connection to the dragon can be a little unsteady like dealing with a big cat.

Sometimes a dragon knows better about something or makes their own decisions/ has its own opinion/ takes its own actions.

Even though the dragons can be independent, they prefer to stick close to their turtle and remain near by.

The dragons are technically first connected to the boys through their mystic weapons, but as they all bond the dragons don’t need the weapons to be in use to stick around.

The dragons can make noise♪ little chirp and squeaks. But there isn’t really “spoken communication” between dragon and turtle. Conversations are made through sharing emotions/abstract colors+shapes/ images/ and expressions to mimic talking. So to a turtle it feels like a regular conversation but observers would understand nothing

The dragons can technically eat regular food even though they don’t need to. It would only really fizzle and dissolve once it is swallowed and quickly disappear.

Dragons can interact with physical objects (including people) when they wish to. It takes a little bit of concentration if a turtle is willing it, but with practice each of them can work on it

Opposite of holing stuff, the dragons can phase through things (and people) at will! They are naturally transparent and give off a little bit of a spirit vibe so it’s sort of natural they possess this ghostly ability. They naturally phase through objects so there might be a little bit of a learning curve for the concept of doors and privacy (^^;)

That’s all I have for my info dump! Thank you @paintedkinzy-88 for kicking me back into the dragon frenzy so I could actually get some work done for my au!

[pink-link-lemonade]

“You.”

[egophiliac]

I got a really tough question.

What’s your favorite Twst event of ALL TIME?

I like Harveston

this truly is the hardest question. :( but after much consideration, I think Endless Halloween Night wins out for me, because it's nonstop Characters Being Silly the whole way through. the whole thing is just lots of these little dorks having the most ridiculous interactions, which is always my favorite! and of course the big twist is SO delightfully stupid and doubles down SO hard that it becomes AMAZING and I 100% unironically adore it. AND it's Halloween! everyone is in their cute little costumes and having a spooky adventure! it's great!

however, I am ALSO a big fan of the Harveston event! how can I not be! everyone is wearing comfy winter outfits and getting along really weirdly well with Epel's grandma and he's getting a little worried about that! my terrible loud son sews a plush squirrel and then gives it a silly little nickname and refuses to leave it behind when it breaks! the ending shot with the sled! I LOVE IT.

obviously we need the best of both worlds now

[shih-coulda-had-it]

One for All Band AU! Generation 1. Banjo's talking about fight night (code for "We are vigilantes disguising ourselves, but really effectively, as a rock band") which Toshinori enthusiastically wants to participate in. Torino and Bruce are gossiping.

[blue-mood-blue]

I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[juaneloriginal]

A dream and a nightmare

@blackkatdraws's silly!

i just want him to be happy bro

by himself not only with black, honestly i like their relationship but most of the time (i think early in their relationship) he always comes out injured or dead and the fact that he doesnt even care about his own safety most of the time just to (me thinks) make black happy makes me so sad/pos

i like the fact that they are being more cute now but im not sure how much that its going to last

[dreamtydraw]

Very happy to announce that i'll be participating the olnf week !!!! Please go check up @olnfweek2024 for more participation and enjoy the first art I decided to work on !

Today's theme : Soulmate

If you are not familiar with the red string story, one legend say that soulmates are linked by a red string that pull people together. Thing is... Kids will be kids and Jump rope sounds more fun !