#the kotfe fic

[carterashofficial]

I did it folks, after 4 damn years I got back to the KOTFE fic and it’s now Part 2: Electric Interlude between KOTFE and KOTET.

Warning: its long. but also, I’m proud of it. Also features an adorable sleen, Theron and Lana romancing each other just a lil bit, and Fiika realizing that her actions have some very unfortunate actions. and some Senya and Arcann mother/son bonding. They both deserve good things.

Oh.

And Valkorian gets headbutted painfully.

[frauleiiin]

This shot is magnificent

[dingoat]

Void-touched

[Just a little bit of writing indulging in some of the terrible angst we've been inflicting on our (best) worst boys over the course of playing through KotFE. Five is... having a time.]

Five never bothered with mirrors these days. Looking presentable was never an issue; he’d perfected the art of doing his hair and having his uniform crisp and symmetrical decades ago, to the point where he could ready himself blindfolded on one foot. But now, there was no pleasure to be found in what had once been perfection. His face… it wasn’t his face any more. His body no longer felt like it belonged to him.

Sometimes, though, even without a mirror, he found himself still forced to acknowledge the changes.

His wound was weeping again, and he’d be damned if he’d get any of the medics to poke and squeeze at it any more, for all the good they’d done him so far. The mystics were no better, and all of Lana’s pacing and fretting hadn’t done a blessed thing. He was fairly sure even Valkorion’s invasive ghost, with all the power he whispered about, couldn’t do a damn thing for him, though with that thought Five allowed himself a brief smirk. Carefully, Five pulled down his trousers and winced at the gash on his thigh, and the dark, spidering discolouration of his skin that spread from it in every direction.

The wound itself was not painful. If anything, it was numb, a disconcerting sort of nothing where his leg had been gored by that beastly monolith among the ashes of Ziost so… so long ago. Ulfran had babbled some nonsense about a void, but… it had been healing. It had been getting better, slowly but measurably, before five years in carbonite had robbed him of his life and quite plainly compromised his body’s ability to heal. Now the wound oozed and stretched as though it had been made mere days ago, and the infection across his skin…

Five twisted and pulled up his shirt, then uttered a soft sound of dismay.

Further, ever further it crawled, rivers of purple and black that reached up his side and across his chest, and it was the edges of the infection, the areas where clean flesh was slowly overcome, that it burned and shot him through with intermittent blazes of pain. He traced his cybernetic fingertips along one of the paths of infection, lines of charred black and gleaming violet along his skin, wincing at the sensation and then snorting with the horrid irony that soon, his false arm might be the only recognisable part of himself.

How had he ever let himself dare to hope for something different? Why had it felt possible to dream of a quiet, comfortable retirement, for himself and his Thirteen and even Crow? After Ziost, he’d found himself increasingly disinterested in his desires for greater power, greater control and influence, wanting instead the time and space to…

To simply enjoy being alive.

Five twisted about the other way, peering over his shoulder to try and examine the extent of the infection along his spine. He felt cold more often than not, now. Cold, and an unfamiliar sort of melancholy, nothing at all like the comfortable rage he’d nursed since he’d been a boy. No, he didn’t have room for that sort of strength of feeling any more. He’d been dragged and pressed into the position of Commander, he had beings from every side of the old wars under his thumb, staring at him, coming to him for advice and direction. He had more power now than ever before in his wildly ambitious life, and he cared for none of it, except for the one tiny thread of hope that it might mean, perhaps, he could attempt to shape a future where at least his precious Thirteen might continue to live. Maybe even live well.

Five no longer saw himself in that future.

He was dying, of that he was quite certain.

Perhaps Thirteen knew it, despite his best efforts to hide it. Thirteen knew how often he reached for his cane, once the adrenaline of a mission wore off, before he had the chance to reach for another stim or hit of kolto. And nothing could disguise the change in his eyes, the luminescent violet that now sometimes burned so bright it smothered his pupils. Perhaps Thirteen recognised that something in Five was turned beyond repair, perhaps it was self preservation that led the Cipher to push away from him, to rebel, to lose trust and faith and seek companionship… elsewhere.

Five closed his eyes, shutting out the world with a soft sigh. If it was self preservation guiding Thirteen’s actions, he couldn’t blame him. He might even be proud, if only he could find it in himself to feel anything.

But it was all fading, and the further Five pushed away the anger, the passionate fury, even the disgust in his own failing body, the easier it became to ignore the cold and the hurt and the desire for something better. Even the quiet yearning for the simple touch of Thirteen’s hand at his cheek was barely a whisper in some shadowed recess of his heart.

And it was better this way. The command he’d never asked for was now all he had, to try and carve out a future for Thirteen out from under Zakuul’s tyranny and Valkorion’s insidious influence, and his decisions would be more clear, his directions more effective, if he didn’t have distractions like fear and fury and vengeance muddying up his thoughts. Thirteen could cry for Kaliyo all he wanted, but the alien had been a loose cannon, a liability, and her death had been a long time coming.

Slowly, Five rolled his shoulders and straightened his spine, trying to find some part of himself that still felt real.

When he opened his eyes, he nearly startled to see Thirteen staring at him from the doorway. Five did not care for anything he saw in his Cipher’s eyes, but the shame and rage that might once have felt inevitable never came. He did not need help dressing his wound, and the sickness crawling across his skin was no longer Thirteen’s business to concern himself with. “Get out,” Five found himself saying, his voice quiet, his tone as deathly flat as the end he knew was coming for him.

This isn’t how I wish you to remember me.

[wayfinderlegacy]

Tonight's rambles:

I haven't even finished my Sith Religion headcanon work OR played the Machine Gods raids, but I am THIS CLOSE to making a google doc of Zakuulan Religion so help me... :')

ON THAT NOTE! If there's Codex entries you get from running the raids or a really good video of them online let me know! (Oooor people willing to get a group together for a story player who just wants to go slow and watch stuff... :))

[kemendin]

The Lines of Duty

A quicker, shorter fic that I scribbled out over the last week or so, because I wanted to explore this part of KOTFE Chapter I with both my main boys on board Marr’s ship. (And I wanted to write some Quinn angst. What else is new.)

Characters: Malavai Quinn, Kira Carsen, Khel Sutek (Sith Warrior), Caspian Serapis (Jedi Knight), Darth Marr, T7-01, Lord Scourge (mentioned) Words: 3600

Read on AO3

The ship was coming apart. Quinn could hear it all around him, the leviathan groan of metal against metal as it twisted and heaved like a great sea beast thrashing in its death throes, shredded by a thousand holes in its failing hide. 

The sound of it grated sickeningly across his ears as he tore down the corridor. He’d been in enough battles to tell when a vessel was beyond saving, and despite the crew’s frantic attempts to maintain the hull’s structural integrity, he knew it was only a matter of time - and not enough of that - before the Imperial cruiser would lose all pretence of cohesion. The enemy was too numerous, coming at them from every calculable vector; there was simply no way to defend against the sheer magnitude of the assault being hurled at them.

Quinn could see the endless ranks of still-unidentified enemy ships each time he hurtled past a viewport. He had never set eyes on such an array in all his life, and he couldn’t deny that he was scared. They had appeared out of nowhere with calculated, menacing precision, slamming out of hyperspace in gridded waves that caught both Imperial and Republic ships in a swift, deadly net, and then simply opened fire. Now hordes of enemies were boarding every level of Darth Marr’s ship, attacking every critical area, and Malavai had never felt so small and afraid as he did now, sprinting through scarlet screams of system alarms as the ship’s cacophonous contortions shuddered through his very bones. 

“Lord Khel!” he shouted into his comm, above the spine-wrenching sound of some lower section of the ship peeling away from the main structure. “My lord, please come in!” But Khel hadn’t answered in over two minutes, and Quinn’s stomach lurched when there was still no reply.

Main power was down, and the entire cruiser was in chaos. Maybe Khel’s comm had malfunctioned. Maybe he was too occupied defending the ship to answer.

Or maybe the unthinkable had happened.

No. It couldn’t be that. Dry-mouthed, Quinn forced this thought away, clambering as quickly as he could over a mess of metal supports half blocking the corridor, trying not to catch himself in the tangled cables that had been vomited out of the wall like sparking intestines.

The noise of fighting rose up ahead, a fierce barrage of blaster bolts that screeched even above the reverberations of the ship. Quinn drew his own blaster and charged forward, and he had already taken out the first enemy trooper that appeared around the corner when the distinct spitting sound of an igniting lightsaber made his heart leap. He hastily ducked an errant shot and dashed into the next room, looking for a flare of gold -

But instead he caught a flash of azure, and realised it was only one of the Jedi. She spun her saberstaff in a whirling spiral, deflecting the stream of energy bolts that came at her and taking out several of the enemy troopers with their own firepower. Leaping ahead, she made short work of the rest, and had turned to strike down the last one when Quinn’s own blaster bolt dropped the foe almost at her feet.

Startled, she spun around, but then relaxed when she saw who had joined her. 

“Nice shot,” she commended. She shook her auburn hair from her face, then squinted at him. “Heyyy, I remember you. You were with us for all the fun on Yavin. Quinn, right? Khel’s favourite Imperial boy?” She waggled her eyebrows at him knowingly.

Ordinarily Quinn would have bristled at this; but now he could only purse his lips against the waves of anxiety rising in him.

“Have you seen him?” he demanded. His thumb worried at the grip of his blaster as he stepped forward and tried to focus enough to recall the Jedi’s name.

“Haven’t seen anyone except a few Imperial soldiers and a whole Hutt party’s worth of these guys.” She deactivated her lightsaber and used the hilt to gesture quickly towards the fallen troopers. “Last I heard he and Cas were headed for engineering, but they haven’t checked in since -“

Another volley from the enemy ships blasted at the vulnerable side of the cruiser, sending shockwaves through the entire vessel and causing both Quinn and the Jedi to stagger drunkenly into the nearest wall. Quinn hastily caught himself and braced his feet against the floor, all of his nerves feeling like they had split ends as the cruiser reeled around them.

“Kriff, this thing is just coming apart -” The Jedi regained her footing and quickly brought her wrist comm to her mouth. “Cas - Cas, can you hear me? Where are you?”

There was a loud crackle of static on the comm, and the sound of more blaster fire, before a tight reply came through.

“Kira? We’re still trying to get to the engineering deck, we keep getting ambushed by more of these - droids, or whatever they are, but this ship isn’t going anywhere unless we can restart the hyperdrive.”

The cruiser shook again as Kira hurried on, “You’d better make it a real fast restart, I don’t know how much longer this thing is going to be in one piece.”

“Not very long,” supplied Quinn tersely, as his grip on his blaster tightened. Unable to hold back, he leaned towards Kira and spoke rather desperately into the woman’s comm, “Is Lord Khel still with you?”

There was a pause - and then a palpable wave of relief washed over Malavai as he heard the Sith’s low, even voice come through.

“I’m here, Quinn. My comm’s out, there hasn’t been time to stop and fix it.”

Just hearing his lord’s calm tones had a remarkably steadying effect on Quinn. He exhaled, and nodded automatically even though the Mirialan couldn’t see it. “I understand, my lord.” Another breath, as he used his free hand to rake some of his hair back into place. “I don’t -“

He was interrupted by the sudden, frantic chattering of what sounded like an astromech droid chiming through Kira’s comm. The Jedi flapped a hand at Quinn to shush him as she frowned.

“The ship’s what?”

More beeps. Quinn had never quite gotten the hang of interpreting the nuances of overly-excitable droidspeak, but he could parse a few words that sounded like ‘ship’ and ‘heavy fire’ and ‘malfunctioning’. Kira, however, was listening intently, and after another moment she swore.

“Kriff - Cas! Our ship’s caught at the airlock, the clamps are frozen. T7 says he and Scourge are just sitting out there with their back ports hanging out. They’re gonna get blown off the side of this thing.”

“Shit. Kira, get back there, see if you can release it from this side! We need to get them out of there!”

Quinn and Kira both winced as another massive tremor rocked the Imperial vessel, and the Jedi’s face scrunched before she hurried on, “Half the section I came through’s collapsed, I can’t get back there!”

Another curse came over the comm. “We’ve got to find a way, the ship’s completely exposed out there -“

Eyeing Kira’s unhappy face, Malavai wet his lips as he swiftly ran his mind over the cruiser’s layout, then spoke up. 

“There’s an alternate route to that airlock,” he informed the Jedi. He beckoned to Kira, leading her over to a console in the wall nearby. The screen flickered unsteadily as he brought up the ship’s schematics, and the visual they were presented with was no more reassuring; with the cruiser’s current status displayed, the full scope of the damage was chillingly apparent.

“Here.” Quinn pointed to a section near the relevant airlock. “These bulkheads are still intact. You can use one of the maintenance junctions, cut through and come at the airlock from the other side.”

This time it was Khel’s voice on the comm again. “Quinn, go with her. You know the way, and other problems might crop up.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed, and as he glanced at Kira he opened his mouth to protest - but the sight of her own anxious expression caused the words to die in his throat. She was just as worried for the fate of her crew as he had been for Khel, and even though they were, technically speaking, still on opposite sides - he could hardly fault her loyalties.

He gave a brusque nod. “Yes, my lord,” he acquiesced. “We’re on our way.”

“Good. Caspian and I will head to engineering to try and restore main power. We’ll be in touch.”

“Right,” replied Kira, before adding, “And hey, Cas - be careful!” 

Quinn couldn’t help but notice how readily she said it, how easily. It was a far different sort of professional relationship she had with Caspian than he had with Lord Khel. But he could see her biting her lip even as she pivoted towards him again. 

“Let’s go,” she urged. He gave another swift nod, readied his blaster, and dashed as fast as he dared into the next corridor, with a now grim-faced Kira close on his heels.

The ship’s tremors became fiercer and more frequent as captain and Jedi darted between decks of groaning metal, past burning conduits and knots of Imperial soldiers trying in vain to patch some semblance of order across the disarray of their defences. Enemy troopers seemed to be everywhere, spilling from the boarding pods that continued to drive like daggers into the cruiser’s hull. Quinn was thankful that he’d become accustomed to fighting next to a Force user; though Kira’s style was rather different from Khel’s, more than once she used the blue blur of her saberstaff to deflect an onslaught of incoming blaster bolts, offering herself as a distraction while Quinn sniped their foes one by one with quick, clean shots from the side.

But even as they scrambled through the writhing bowels of the cruiser, Quinn had begun to question this course of action. They would free the Jedi ship - and then what? He knew that Khel boasted a generally optimistic outlook, but even he had to recognise that this was a hopeless situation. Already a dozen decks or more were entirely collapsed or torn open to the vacuum of space. No matter their combined efforts, they could only keep the ship together and the enemy at bay for so long. Malavai didn’t enjoy being so deeply fatalistic, but he was also a realist - and reality wasn’t giving them all that many options to work with.

Crawling through a tight maintenance shaft was particularly nerve-wracking, with barely any space to cushion Quinn and Kira from the reverberations of the dying ship. But at last they reached the end of it; Quinn forced the hatch open, and they clambered out into the corridor leading to the airlock - only to discover that fused docking clamps were not their only problem. 

A jumble of structural supports and ceiling plates had collapsed in front of the airlock access port. Quinn eyed the mess in some dismay, but Kira was already stepping forward and shaking back her sleeves.

“I’ll get this out of the way,” she told him quickly. “You just get the docking clamps un-jammed.”

He blinked once, then nodded - what else could he do? - and hurried to the airlock controls. As he put in an override command, he heard a much louder, much closer grind of metal. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kira with her hands outstretched, using the Force to drag the tangle of debris away from the airlock door.

The console before him lit up an affirmative green; Quinn slammed the release button, and was rewarded with the clunk and hiss of the clamps releasing the Jedi ship. As he turned towards Kira again he heard the Republic astromech’s shrill whistle of confirmation sounding from her wrist comm.

“That’s done it! T7, prep for takeoff!” Kira gave Quinn a swift thumbs-up as she called into the comm again. “Cas - ship’s free! I think it’s really time to go!”

“Great. Now get on the ship and get out of here, Kira. We’re going to start evacuating but you need to leave now.”

Halfway into the airlock, Kira froze. “What?” she exclaimed incredulously. “No - we can’t just leave you behind!”

“Listen to me - there are barely any ships left out there. Somebody has to make it out of this to warn the Republic.” 

A pause, as the cruiser shuddered and groaned, and both Quinn and Kira had to brace as the vessel listed to one side. 

“Please, Kira. You have to.” Caspian’s voice was quiet now. Accepting.

Kira bit her lip so hard that blood welled beneath her teeth. “Alright,” she forced out, throwing a quick look over her shoulder at Quinn. “But you’d better be right behind us.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Quinn spoke up tersely. He held her gaze for a moment, blue meeting blue. “You have my word.”

He would find them both, Khel and Caspian, and lend whatever help he could in evacuating the rest of the ship before they made their escape (he tried not to think ‘if’ they made their escape, though he knew it was becoming more unlikely by the moment). He had already turned to dash back into the inferno when Khel’s voice sounded from Kira’s comm, bringing both the captain and the Jedi up short.

“No. Quinn - listen to me very carefully. You’re going with Kira. You are boarding her ship, and she’ll take you back to the Empire.”

Quinn pivoted sharply, casting an incredulous stare towards Kira’s wrist. “My lord, you can’t be serious -”

“You heard me.” No. He must have heard wrong. Khel surely wasn’t telling him- he couldn’t be telling Malavai to abandon him -

“No.” Quinn set his jaw. “No, I didn’t hear you, I’m on my way down there -”

“Malavai Quinn, that is an order.” Khel’s voice was cold and harsh, made more so by the static of the comm as the sound of the slowly disintegrating cruiser disrupted the signal. “Get on that ship. Now.”

Quinn’s chest was suddenly, dreadfully tight. Something fierce and hot rose up inside him, trying desperately to overpower the icy horror creeping across his brain. Khel had sent him with Kira on purpose, he realised. This had been the Sith’s intent all along, to force the captain out of harm’s way.

“No,” he pushed out, then louder, “No, I won’t! I won’t leave you here, my lord! I’m sorry but I refuse!”

An earsplitting whine of metal echoed from the far end of the corridor as it collapsed, crashing in on itself with a bright flash of superheated plasma. Flames flared, licking greedily at the buckling walls and weighing the air down with acrid smoke.

“We don’t have time for this!” cried Kira. “Come on!” She grabbed at Quinn’s arm, but he immediately jerked it from her grasp.

“No!” he yelled again. He twisted where he stood, frantically seeking an opening in the destruction around him, some path he could force through that would lead him to his lord, but everything was obscured by flashes of noise and light, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus -

“Kira, please ensure that Captain Quinn is aboard your ship in the next twenty seconds.”

Please, please - how could Khel say please at a time like this?! Malavai’s eyes were wide, so distracted by disbelief that it was only when he felt someone bodily latch onto him, trying to drag him towards the airlock, that he blinked and suddenly the world was moving again.

“No!” His voice was high and hoarse, and though Khel’s only presence here was strapped to one of the arms now digging into his ribcage, he was shouting his denial to the entire ship.

“I won’t leave you here! Khel! KHEL!”

He didn’t care that he was defying orders, didn’t care that he was making an utter spectacle of himself in front of the Jedi. He only cared that this ship was doomed, and he was not going to leave his lord, his love, here to die.

He thrashed against Kira’s hold, but for a woman of such slight build she was surprisingly strong, and he could feel his boots scraping across the heaving floor as she forced him, centimetre by centimetre, into the airlock. He stamped down hard on her foot; she let out a grunt of pain in his ear, but didn’t let go, only released an exasperated, “Oh for stars’ sake -”

Sudden pain exploded across the back of Quinn’s skull, and his surroundings spun in a riot of flames as meaningless noise roared in his ears. He seemed to have lost all control of his body now, and felt himself slump within the Jedi’s grasp. As though from a great distance, he heard Khel’s voice again. Dimly he thought that he could detect a tremor in his lord’s level tones.

“Make sure he gets safely home.”

The next thing Malavai knew, he was being deposited in a shaking seat on a Republic ship. His throbbing head lolled as he fought to concentrate, but his limbs were like jelly and his eyes kept trying to close again. He felt a hand check the pulse in his neck, and then Kira’s voice echoed from above him.

“I’ve got him, we’re all set, but Cas -”

“Don’t wait, go.” A pause. “Just - just tell Scourge that I -”

“I know,” she cut him off, audibly fighting back a tremor of her own. “And I will. May the Force be with you.”

The ship shuddered and rocked under a spew of enemy fire; as Kira scrambled towards the front of the bridge, Quinn clutched at his seat and forced himself to sit up. Through the viewport he could see how the surrounding space was quickly becoming a graveyard, as endless volleys of azure energy bolts reduced whole ships to floating fields of debris. But no, Khel was still out there, they had to go back- 

Groggily he groped at the console next to him, trying to claw his way forward. “Khel,” he croaked out. “Khel -“

A sharp roll of the ship threw him back into his seat. The vessel was spiralling away through the battlefield, dodging enemy fire, heading for an opening in the lines where one opposing ship had veered from its position -

“Now, T7!” yelled Kira.

The stars became a blur around them as the ship leapt forward, and in an instant the chaos of battle disappeared as the roiling blue maw of hyperspace swallowed them up. 

Suddenly it was so quiet. Quinn shakily pulled himself up again. For a moment he stared through stricken eyes at the silent passage bearing him away from where he belonged. But it was too late. Khel was gone. A shuddering breath left his lungs, and then he slumped forward and buried his face in his hands.

~~~~~

“That’s it. They’re through.”

Caspian exhaled, a soft sound that was utterly lost in the wails of the cruiser coming apart around them. He glanced over his shoulder at Khel, but didn’t turn; allowing the Mirialan a few moments to dry his face and compose himself.

“You did the right thing,” he went on. He winced as a nearby section of the ceiling crashed down, barring the exit from the secondary control room; but it didn’t matter. The escape pods had all been launched - there was nowhere left to go.

Khel dragged the back of his gloved hand across his face and then straightened. “It’s not how things are done, in my world,” he said brusquely. He turned to regard Cas; already his eyes had hardened again, like zircon chips, hiding all evidence of the softness inside. “Quinn knew that. He knew his duty was to stay. And I robbed him of that.”

“You saved his life, Khel,” replied Cas quietly. “That’s never wrong. And they’ll make it home.”

“Which is more than can be said for us.” Darth Marr’s dry voice was nearly monotone from where he stood nearby, his hands clasped behind his back in a casual stance that defied the disintegration of his ship around them. “But we are Sith. We stand our ground even in the face of annihilation. And a captain does not abandon his ship.”

He dipped his head solemnly to Khel, who replied with a nod of his own before turning a discerning look on Cas.

“Lord Marr is right. This isn’t your ship, Jedi. You should have gone with them.” The Mirialan canted his head, shrewd yet perplexed. “There was no need for both of us to be… separated.”

Cas could hardly ignore the pointed emphasis on the word. “You needed my help,” he answered. As the ship gave another violent shake around them, he braced himself on the nearby console and turned his gaze aside. Trying not to think about what he would never get to say himself, as he murmured, “And sometimes, being a Jedi… means letting go.”

But it was more than that. Even through the chaos of this massacre, he could still feel what had stirred his senses on the bridge - the nagging, skin-pricking touch of a familiar shadow. And he knew he couldn’t run, couldn’t leave, until he discovered the truth of it. Though Cas rarely thought in such terms, the Force was telling him that this - this was where he was supposed to be.

A dark huff sounded from behind Marr’s mask. “Then you can consider yourself a shining example of your Order, since it seems you are about to let go of everything. The Sith do not surrender so easily.”

The thunder of incoming missiles rose above the bone-shuddering screech of burning, tearing metal, and a series of detonations heralded the imminent explosion of the power core. Cas and Khel both clung grimly to the dying control console as, behind them, Marr bowed his faceless head.

“But if such convictions are what give you comfort… so be it.”

[byrdffv]

The kirby fanfiction rec list for people on the r/kirby discord server because i mentioned i wanted to make one and people said i should

(technically a repost from a google doc i made to share there but i figured tumblr might appreciate it too)

Alright kirbros, let’s get into it.

These are in no particular order; you should give all of these fics a read IMO.

First up, let’s get the easy ones out of the way,

Kirby on the flipside by ProminenceFlare is the most popular Kirby fanfiction on ao3. Ok technichally that spot is taken by some dumb MHA fanfic that doesn't even have a single Kirby character in it but thats not the point; KotFs is THE Kirby fanfic. Theres plenty of game/anime crossovers out there but this one takes the cake. Its 300 thousand words long for christs sake, and it’s a GREAT 300 thousand words. If you haven't read KotFs, you haven't read much Kirby fanfiction i imagine. It does not disappoint. Theres also a sequel fic in the works although currently it’s on a break, but it is also just as good as the original.

Second of all is actually a series, Heart and soul by post_it_notes7. This is another game/anime crossover but in an interesting twist. The premise is that Meta Knight, long before the events of Krbay, sought to fight galacta knight in order to become stronger and hopefully defeat nightmare. He does this, and galacta is resealed. Now in the present, nightmare has been defeated by Kirby, and all is good and well, right? NOPE, galacta knight has escaped his seal and is out to reclaim his title as the strongest warrior in the galaxy. Its technichally NOT a metagala fic, it instead focuses more on a friendship between the two. Im not really a shipping person so i actually really enjoy this, their personalities clash well and they get plenty of banter. The full series combined as of now just barely beats Kirby on the flipside (not counting KotFs's sequel, Kirby's dream trials) at 310 thousand words.

Okay, chances are if youre into Kirby fanfiction you’ve already read those two, however a series you may not have seen is PinkestMenace's Planet of Possibilities, Special Treats and Rest (haha get it it spells popstar).

Now I would suggest reading most of these, but if you don’t want to read all of them theres a few key ones that are my favourites.

Control halt delete goes into meta knight’s role in Kirby planet robobot, it’s a fun, somewhat angsty fic recounting the uh, ‘modifications’ star dream and Susie put him through. Its good.

Let the games begin! Is another good one, its quite short, but a fun read.

Do Starry Knights Dream of Eternal Sleep? is a much more angsty fic, focusing on that old “meta knight is a creation of nightmare” headcanon from the anime fandom. It is a very good fic but I will warn you its got some more harsh content in it including some self-harm/loathing-adjacent moments, and as with all fanfiction I recommend reading the tags before reading. If you are comfortable with that though, it’s a great read!

Rocks Fall, Everyone Flies is by far my favourite fic in this series, its got some great character interactions and storyline. The story is reminiscent of the Kirby novels, if the Kirby novels were not childrens books and were instead horror novels. I jest, but this story does have some good spooky content and moments. Its gives good attention to all four of the dream land gang and is another great read.

Alright that’s all for the POPSTAR series, there are other fics in that series but those are the ones Im interested in, I would suggest checking out the rest of their fics however if you are interested!

Where Were the meta-knights? By purblegaymer Is one of my absolute favourites, up there with Heart and Soul. It’s a ‘missing scene’ fic, going into where the meta knights were in those episodes where they were missing, as well as giving us a look at meta knights dumb internal thoughts throughout certain episodes. It’s a long but very good read, going into meta knight’s thoughts and personality in the anime. It’s a very good read, would absolutely recommend to any anime fans.

That’s been a lot of meta knight adjacent fics, eh? Don’t worry, I’ve got other character-centric fics. For example…

Stuck With The Lor by Azzie_Tangerine Focuses on magolor after he escapes from another dimension and tries to live in the dream kingdom. However the Lor, missing its captain, decides to show up and lock magolor in his ship so it can give the poor cat some therapy. Okay that’s not ENTIRELY how it goes but it is the basic premise. The fic goes more into magolor’s guilt and experience with the master crown, creates some fun lore for the uh, Lor, and is a good exploration into how the two’s relationship. Would definitely recommend this one for any magolor fans, 100%.

How King Dedede founded Christmas by NWTGMR is both hilarious and heartwarming. I think this fic might have one of the best portrayals of dededes personality in fan content I’ve seen, with the perfect mix between big soft man and petty jerk. I would definitely recommend giving this one a read, even if it’s not Christmas you will enjoy it.

Half Blind Date by Azzie_Tangerine (again, they’ve got some good fics) is the sole reason why I ship taransusie, which is funny because as I said earlier im not very big on shipping, but this one is too good to refuse. Taransusie is kind of a rarepair in the scope of Kirby ships (definitely not the rarest, but its not too common either), but this fic is very fun nonetheless! Please don’t take a drinking game at how many times ive said the word ‘fun’ in this list so far. Anyway, very good read, would recommend if youre a fan of either taranza or Susie!

Oh, actually, while we’re here, why not recommend Books Are Stupid, Anyways!, also by Azzie_tangerine. It’s a Kirby and prince fluff fic. Very cute, nuff’ said.

Youth by katrinasis is a pre-canon story recounting how king dedede and meta knight met, its cute and pretty fun. Good read even if youre not really into metadede.

He May Even Dream Again by voidknight is a fic that focuses on… Gooey of all characters! Yeah, gooey isn’t really the star of many fics, but this one gives him the spotlight! Mostly focuses on gooey’s relationship to dark matter, its in second person but somehow manages to make it work. Its fun, its cool, perhaps its even ‘neat’. Give it a read, if you want.

The List of Things Dark Meta Knight is Forbidden To Do by WarioCart Is… a fic (I say this positively). Based on that one Scp story I think, TLoTDMKiFTD is both a mouthful to say and a great fic. Its got some good humour, and just in general really funny. If youre too bummed out by angsty fic id recommend this one.

And… That’s about it, really. There are plenty of good Kirby fanfiction out there, but that’s all I really can think of (and have time for) today.

Wait actually, before I go, I should recommend The Olde Switcheroo by TripleMK, its another game/anime crossover but it focuses on dedede, its currently in the works but has updated recently. It’s a good one!

[anchanted-one]

Eternal War Rewrite

So I'm here at long last.

My first attempt at a fanfic was Eternal War. I had to leave it halfway through because of horrible mental health and burnout, and when I returned, I figured I might as well rewrite everything.

I started from the beginning, creating new characters with better lore and journeys. I wrote the whole Knight's story, a few snippets of the others, and an in-depth Shadow of Revan. I wrote Ziost, and the five year timeskip from KOTFE Chapter 1 to 3.

But I'm here again, and it's at Eternal War book 1.

So I have a dilemma. Do I leave EW as it is, as a separate, abandoned fic, or do I rewrite all its chapters with Vajra instead of Arro? There are some changes I've made in the story, including making Vajra a lot more indignant about the war Arcann waged. Not fallen Jed levels of fury, but definitely different.

Change the original, or post a new fic?

Some opinions would be nice.

[serenxanthe]

Zakuul: A SWTOR WiP

Seren and Theron try to have a conversation after five years apart while dodging skytroopers and Lana’s ire.

This is one of the eleventy million WiPs I’m working on rather than editing the final three chapters of my Coruscant story to upload to AO3.

I just typed this on my phone this morning so it’s 100% unedited, and I’m still on my phone, so apologies for any formatting weirdness that appears.

This is a small snippet of my story based on the rescue from carbonite through to founding of the base of Odessen section of KOTFE. It’s a bit of a fixit fic for where the hell was Theron for nine chapters?

Seren and Lana headed off a group of approaching skytroopers while T7 and Theron hacked into yet another security terminal, frantically trying to cover their trail and confuse and slow down their pursuers. An unfamiliar male voice sounded over their comms asking Lana if she had ‘The Outlander’. That was what she was here, Seren supposed.

Seren learnt that the man’s name was Koth Vortena and that he was piloting the shuttle that would meet them at the planned pick-up point. The shuttle that Theron had piloted in would be abandoned to further confuse Zakuulan Security. Lana and Koth’s relaxed banter was unusual for the Sith, or at least it had been five years ago, so Seren asked her, “Is that your boyfriend Lana?”

Theron snorted with a suppressed laugh, “That’s a good question!” he congratulated her.

Lana’s face was unamused, and her only answer was, “I’ll pretend that isn’t your greatest concern at the moment.”

Lana’s love life wasn’t Seren’s greatest concern, but she had successfully mostly satisfied herself that if Theron did have a new boyfriend or girlfriend, at least it wasn’t Lana, or this guy Koth.

Seren sighed inwardly, she should probably just ask Theron rather than trying to rule potential love interests out through a process of elimination. She was thirty now, wasn’t she? Maybe she should try to behave in a slightly more mature way. But in her defence she’d stepped into Valkorion’s palace having just turned twenty-five and now she was suddenly five years older. It would take time to adjust, she told herself.

They continued their escape, their pace by necessity frenetic, until a long lift journey of hundreds of stories within the spire forced them to pause. Seren had so many questions; what had happened in the galaxy, were the Republic and Sith Empire fighting the Eternal Empire, or each other, both, neither? Was Lana aware of Marr’s death? Where was the rest of Seren’s crew? She rested her hand on T7, grateful he was here at least. She didn’t know where to begin.

Theron was staring at her, seemingly unable to take his eyes off her face. Suddenly, her most urgent question was clear.

“Theron, are you… single?” Seren asked him, her heart in her mouth.

“WHAT?!” Theron exclaimed, “No, of course I’m not single, I’m…”

His voice and facial expression were so outraged that Seren took a step back, startled.

“Sorry Theron, of course you’re not. Of course. It’s been five years, I’m sorry. I wasn’t assuming, just asking, I…”

Lana rolled her eyes so hard she was worried she’d hurt herself. How had these two idiots ever managed to be in a relationship for five years when they seemed completely incapable of communicating with each other effectively? Their two year break-up somewhere in the middle of that was beginning to make more and more sense to her.

Theron was staring furiously at Seren, and she was looking anywhere but him, trying surreptitiously to brush the tears from her eyes.

“If I can interject here…” Lana started.

“Back off, Lana!” Theron snarled at her.

She ignored him and spoke to Seren, “Seren, what Theron is trying, badly, to say is that he’s not single because he still considers himself to be in a relationship with you.”

Seren looked up at her, her face suddenly suffused with shocked hope.

“Theron, what I believe Seren was asking is whether or not you are in a relationship with somebody else who you’d met during the five years she was in carbonite. Yes?”

Seren nodded in silent confirmation, then turned to look at Theron again, her eyes huge. “You’re not with somebody else?” She asked him, wanting to be clear this time.

Theron shook his head, “Never. I’d never… I waited for you Seren, I waited.” His voice sounded muffled, as if he was close to tears himself.

Seren swallowed, “You waited? Do you mean that… you didn’t meet anyone at all while I was gone?”

Theron shook his head, “I didn’t, I… couldn’t.” He broke off, furiously trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Seren stepped towards him and took his hands. “But Theron, you thought I was dead. How could you have been waiting?”

“I was grieving, then I found out you were alive, then I was waiting. Why is that so difficult for you to believe? Do you really have such a low opinion of me?” Theron was sad. And angry. He wasn’t completely sure at whom.

Lana was almost relieved when the lift jerked to a halt on the ground floor and they were greeted with a barrage of blaster fire from yet another group of skytroopers. This ongoing conversation between Seren and Theron was painfully protracted, and she was sick of hearing it, sick of being the dues ex machina in their space opera. They all needed to focus on surviving this escape, and the ache in her abdomen was purely anxiety over that, she told herself firmly.

[pandora15]

no one asked me about this recently but I figured I should say that modern au is probably not gonna be updated in a long time, as is shifting shadows.

for modern au, I think it's gotten to this point where it would just be really difficult for me to dive back in. I can give it a whirl maybe once I'm done with remnants of destruction, but just thinking about the story in a general sense makes me pretty sad. my brainspace has changed quite a lot in the past few months, and I think I'll find it very difficult to continue this story.

as for shifting shadows, I think where I left it off is that I had the rest of the fic outlined or something? I'd have to check my document. but honestly I regret starting that fic. I've since realized that writing sequels to fic is really difficult and I wish I hadn't completely undone drifting starlight's ending for the sake of "shock value". I can maybe talk about the upcoming spoilers for that fic since I'm pretty sure I won't be updating it but only if y'all are comfortable with me doing that. let me know.

(you'll notice this is why I was so insistent on not writing a sequel to kotf)

what I do have planned right now is finishing remnants of destruction. I have the rest of the fic outlined, but I'm already thinking of making some changes to said outline (I want to make sure I do the story + characters justice and it's not easy).

after that, I had some other vague ideas including a kenobi series AU or maybe even some fun time travel thing where there's multiple obi-wans at the same time. because what's more fun than one obi-wan? MULTIPLE obi-wans.

case in point:

TLDR writing is very slow and difficult but I'm trying! I would love love LOVE to write something like kotf again but that would probably (definitely) have to wait until after I'm done with grad school and I finish remnants of destruction.

[sullustangin]

I am hyyyypped for the chapter tomorrow.

It has an illustration from @vexa-legacy

It moves multiple plots forward (heist plot; Eva recovery plot; Theron/Eva relationship; and #3)

Our favorite (spoilers) returns to terrorize bakery workers everywhere

More domestic headcanon that makes me personally happy; I've published it before as part of Fluffy February, but now it's 'officially' part of the story. I treat writing prompt months like first drafts and creative spurs, and then I canonize it all as a 'final' draft in my serialized fics.

Am I doing fic/fluff/smut/swtor/kink -tober? I have no idea yet. I think tomorrow is decision day.

It's actually nice to be spending time on the worldbuilding of Odessen before going right into KotFE Chapter X. It's probably indulgent and maybe annoying for readers who loved the high-speed action of the Shadow of Revan expansion arc, but I feel like these people need a break before being plunged into what's next.

...and that's not to say this fic won't have action.

...or that someone else won't return in full form, ready or not.

[consularmain]

Quick consult for fan fic matter. Arcann's and Vaylin's ages: I remember reading a theorycraft post (maybe it was yours?) about Arcann only being about 20ish when he and Thexan did their thing in raiding the Core Worlds, and so he's about 25 at the time the Outlander is defrosted in KoTFE. That would make Vaylin in the 20-22 region. Does that sound right to you?

I don't think it was me that said that (I operate based on vibes rather than strict timelines lol) but that does sound about right. I always thought Arcann was in the 25-28 age range with Vaylin being two to three years younger so that's how I've written them. Hope that helps!

[chaoticstrata]

A Bit of Aketho Lore

@karanan Ok, since the replies to my one post wouldn't allow me to fully write this out, here it is. XD

Gonna try to not bore you with Aketho's whole family backstory…because I'm insane enough to have this in my head for future fics. For the most part, his father is pretty pragmatic and would see the benefit of having an agent in Intelligence; he doesn't want it to be his son. He wants to avoid getting his family involved with an outsider's--the Empire's--war. At least, that's what he tells Aketho and his siblings. In actuality, he didn't want Aketho to join Intelligence--and Aketho does not know this--because he promised his late wife he would protect their children. Aketho's father knows he would not be able to do that with any of them leaving Chiss space. He already feels he failed her when it was discovered their eldest was force-sensitive. They had to send him away (he ended up training with the Jedi), which devastated his wife and Aketho. He refuses to let that happen again…yeah, the whole start of KotFE wrecked him a bit. >.>

Aketho has always thought himself a disappointment to his father, mainly because the man is a bit cold and distant to him and his siblings. The main reason is his father's upbringing. He's not good at showing emotions or acting like a father because he never had anyone to show him how to do the latter. He can show emotions when a mission depends on him being open and friendly or using his cover of a well-known merchant. Their House is officially known for being merchants and artisans as a cover. However, he struggles to be open in private or with his children. The only person he's truly opened up to was his wife, and when she passed, he clammed up again--he's working on all of that.

I still need to pick out a name for this man, yet I already have a whole backstory for him. ;-; Things may change by the time I reach this in my story, but this is what I've planned out in my head thus far. Hopefully, it makes sense!

And I 100% agree about the Chiss lore bit; it's why I made up Aketho's House. It just seemed to work in my head. I based the House off of the Rogue's Guild in FFXIV, where they're the enforcers of the pirate Code in a legitimate pirate city-state. House Omi is there to keep the noble families from outright killing each other from political intrigue/rivalry--plus a side business of assassinations/spying.

[dingoat]

Five Years

[Well, this is a huge mess of rambling fiction, but I'm working on the philosophy that getting something out terribly is better than not getting it out at all! A response to @askshivanulegacy's Written In The Stars, musings set during KotFE that barely scrape the surface of what our characters have been experiencing. 2.2K words from my best girl's perspective (but they all get a mention), raw and barely edited, sorry not sorry for any incoherency, I need to get to bed hahaha.]

He was as infuriating as he’d ever been.

But that only meant he was still just as captivating.

She’d felt the breath knocked out of her, when the ship finally landed on Odessen, when she felt his presence walking the same earth as her paws tread. “They’re back,” she knew it was only through her that Blakk was aware, and she felt the thread of nerves flickering through him. It was still such dangerous territory, even muddied as it was after so many years. Watcher Five and Cipher Thirteen had been dead as far as the greater galaxy had been concerned, for five years. Each one mourned under a different name, one a polished public figure tailor made for the Empire to love, and the other all too raw and real, the sole survivor of the death of Ziost, the one man who had watched a planet turn to ash around him.

Most considered that cataclysm to be the beginning  of it all.

To Ahuska, it had been the moment they had been sealed in carbonite.

She’d never stopped thinking about him, not really, even after Ulfran had whispered that it was for the best and gently undid the bond she’d built with Thirteen through the Force. It had served its purpose. Linked to his body through his very soul, she’d re-learned how to shift her body with the moon harmoniously, stabilising herself against him. She’d re-learned how to settle her form into one free of discord, free of pain, and she was able to exist peacefully and thoughtfully among those she’d only ever been driven to kill.

She owed him so much for that alone.

And yet he’d also… become something more to her. She couldn’t deny it, even if she still didn’t fully understand it. There was a part of her that loved him, would always love him, but it was a part of her that she’d never had the chance to fully explore, as she’d been physically separated from him and turned back to her study.

Her duty.

Ulfran had been right, of course. Master Tanak’qi had been right. Letting half her heart live half the galaxy away, she’d never have found the room or the focus needed to fulfil her promise to Blakk. She’d never have been able to give her all to Blakk, what he needed, what she owed him, what she desperately wanted to pour into him to see him reclaim his whole self and begin to flourish. To finally allow them both the opportunity, the space, to get to know one another properly and come to understand their feelings for each other without all the galaxy getting in the way.

She was devoted to Blakk. She was in love with Blakk.

But she’d never stopped thinking about Cipher Thirteen.

Was he even Cipher Thirteen any more? She wasn’t really sure what the state of Imperial Intelligence and the Cipher program was these days, and she cared very little for those who claimed to be running things. She heard the people up in the base referring to Five as Commander, and it made her stomach tighten and her lip curl, but when she saw the look in his eyes, when she felt that tear in his soul and the void that was trying to devour him from the inside, she found she felt only pity for the man who had once attempted to keep her as his prize trophy hound.

He was not that man any more, even if the Alliance members who trotted at his heels seemed to think his iron fist would save them all.

She listened to the people, in their little hive of warfare up above. Some still said Thirteen, but she wasn’t sure she’d heard the title ‘Cipher’ in quite some time. Nor Agent. There were those who spoke of The Survivor in sombre tones, or those who named him Corran, but she knew not even that was his real name. His true name… oh, she wished to whisper it to him some time. She wanted to let him know that she knew. She wanted to be able to give him something real.

She wanted to tell him that she’d never stopped thinking about him, but she wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it.

About how she’d grieved his home planet from afar, when she caught wind of the devastation on the holonews.

About how she’d closed her eyes and let her heart travel and how she’d ached at what she’d found, how it had felt too raw and personal for her to experience without him knowing she was there. Those feelings… they were for the people physically there with him, who could put their arms around him, who could give him a place to rest his head and soothe his ragged soul.

About how she’d not been able to contact him, to find him in person, amid the surge of jammed signals surrounding Ziost’s cataclysm, or the way he’d gone dark when he’d begun hunting the rogue Emperor in earnest. With Five, and Crow, and Ulfran…

She’d tried, though.

She wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about how she’d known the moment his breath had been pulled from his lungs and Arcann had sealed him off from the rest of the galaxy.

Dead, the galaxy at large had said.

Asleep, her guts had told her. Quiet. Distant. But not wholly gone. When she ran through the Force in her sleep, she’d glimpsed a barren wasteland that echoed with his presence, but no matter how she called he never seemed to hear her.

Blakk had asked her about Five, once. Very softly. She’d closed her eyes and pushed the pain from her expression, but not before a flicker of it showed through. Five was the same, she’d told him. Somewhere distant, but not gone.

They’d stayed gone for years, and those years had been hellish.

For so long, she’d kept herself free of the never ending conflict between Empire and Republic, determined never again to be used by either side. Determined to keep Blakk free, and safe, and give him the time and space he needed to heal. But the galaxy raged on, and when a new player entered the field, when Zakuul moved in and began to decimate both sides with equal prejudice and unthinkable power, safe places to lay low and avoid the fight grew fewer and further between.

Odessen had been a perfect haven, for a time. One that they’d shared with Crow, where together with Ulfran she’d helped him come to understand the gifts that he possessed. It was a place they’d allowed others to take refuge on, in fits and spurts, a place to keep hidden, a place to be nourished by the Force. A place where she worked as a healer, when those she trusted brought wounded who’d seemed beyond hope. The Queen of the Wilds, they’d called her, and she and Blakk had retreated to wilderness in earnest, only to be pulled out, again and again, to tend to people who had done nothing for her, for the sake of those who’d done everything.

She wondered, sometimes, how different life might have been if she’d held onto her bond with Thirteen. If she’d been beside him, in person, or even riding in his heart, knowing his thoughts and seeing through his eyes, on that fateful day he’d been walled off from all the galaxy. Could she have helped? Could things have gone differently, could they have cut off the head of this new reign of terror then and there? She rose to her feet, wolf-shaped, huge and powerful, and moved to where Thirteen sat, hanging her massive head over his shoulders. None of the endless what-ifs were any good to them, and it seemed that Thirteen had become even more accomplished at dwelling than she was. He’d been lost, and… awkward, almost, in a way so uncharacteristic that it pained her to see. She saw the tension, between him and Five, and wasn’t sure what to make of it. She watched as Crow tried to reconnect, but Crow was somebody new now, as well, with unheard of responsibilities and years of growth and experiences behind him that Thirteen had… simply not been there for.

Ahuska wasn’t sure it was right to push herself into the middle of all that, if she was welcome or wanted, even if the piece of her heart that he’d always owned leapt at the sight of him.

And then the Star Fortress had fired, and she’d found herself shaken to the core, mourning a people, a planet, that she’d never taken the time to get to know. Rage and regret were a potent combination, and the last thing she’d expected was for Thirteen to come to her, after the news of the attack on Bothawui had spread.

He had come, and she’d seized his offered hand, and together they had stormed their first fortress together. Together, they’d cut loose, and together, they’d found an outlet for feelings they didn’t otherwise know how to express. Ahuska realised, as they raced through the fortress halls, shattering glass and splitting skytroopers and tracking the blood of Zakuul Knights through golden corridors, that in Thirteen she had an equal. Someone who understood her wildness and accepted it without judgement, because he knew it as she did, he relished it as she did, and he had never once made her feel like a monster for it. They were equally appalled at the activities of the Zakuul nobility, and they were both driven by red hot fury at the sheer injustice of it all. He had served for years; she had been used for years, and every hope they’d had of putting those bloody, brutal lives behind them and finding something good and new had been gutted.

With Thirteen, she finally found the nerve to stare the enemy in the eye and say no more.

Yet every attempt to express herself to him had fallen short.

He shied away from offering too much of himself… just like he’d always done, really, except now she sensed the hollow ache inside him, and now she didn’t want to let him slip away.

It was easier to be the wolf, to offer herself with no expectations of conversation, to accept his arms around her and give him something strong and stable, but… it wasn’t enough. She needed him to know. His eyes were so soft and his expressions so strained and she needed him to know that he didn’t have to keep facing this battle alone.

They would part, she knew. He would head up to his quarters, she would steal away back into the forest, each to the partners who were theirs.

But she needed to give him more.

She flowed into her smaller shape, halfway between bothan and wolf, taking one of his hands in hers before they went their own ways for the night. She ignored the uncertainty that flickered across his features, the tremor that rolled through him.

“Thirteen,” she said softly, letting her wolf ears splay loosely either side of her head. “Do you remember, years ago, when you told me I shouldn’t rely on a crutch to use my power? When you took the stones and said I didn’t need them?”

“You gave them to me,” he corrected, with hint of wariness about him.

“Yes, after you convinced me. And it was the right thing to do. You were right.” She paused, and dared to reach up and touch her fingertips to his cheek. “I never wanted to be cut off from you.”

His eyes went wide, and she nearly fell apart then and there. Never had they spoken of it; never had they faced what it had meant to have their bond severed with crude and ugly words. And maybe that had been a mistake. She clung to his hand, and forced herself to continue.

“But that had also been the right thing, because I would have leaned on it too hard. You… you would have been a crutch, just like the stones, and I never would have learned just how much I could be on my own, I’d never be where I am today…”

She tried not to look too closely into his eyes, she tried not to read too deep into the expressions tugging at his features. “It hurt, I never would have dreamed how much it would hurt and I… I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you all these years, even when it never felt right to say it, watching the way Crow and Ulfran searched…”

She swallowed, almost lost her nerve, but then pushed herself to find his gaze again. To meet his lovely eyes, did he have any idea how brightly his soul shone through them? “But it’s not a crutch any more. I’m stronger than I’d have ever imagined or hoped, or ever even wanted and so now, knowing you… it’s a choice. It’s something I can choose freely.” Did he hear what she left unsaid? Did he know when she spoke of knowing him, she meant to be connected as they once had been? Did he realise what she couldn’t quite bring herself to say aloud, that she would reach out and bind herself to him once more if he gave any indication that he would welcome it back? “It’s a miracle that you’re back with us and I don’t want to lose you again.”

[lavampira]

8, 13, 20 for the writer asks?

fic writer ask meme

ty lovely!!

8. what project(s) are you currently working on?

FAULT LINES - mindrien dating era melodrama

A CANDLE IN THE DARK - stormblood-era sidalia

STEEL YOUR HEART - endwalker garlemald study

PETALS FOR ARMOR - minfalia (dark) knight/bodyguard au

THICK AS THIEVES - kotfe-era star fortress heist

PERFECT MACHINE - agent story rewrite (feat. thaston/hunter)

UNDER THE SAME STARS - malena & garrus friendship study

SOLIS OCCASUM - lon & amelia spooky mystery hijinks

those are the more active-ish wips. there’s also some that are shelved until the inspiration/motivation strikes again :3

13. how much planning do you do before writing?

it depends! sometimes an idea for a brief 1-2k words piece will consume me and I’ll write it all out in a few hours sitting, sometimes I’ll outline the chapters/scenes that I’d like to include if I expect it will be a longer thing.

20. answered here!

[tiredassmage]

Okay, I love my shitpost introductions to actually serious thoughts, headcanons, 'verses, what have you, but also... big, pretty post with (some semblance of) context (primarily in one spot instead of scattered in asks). That might be cool.

Okay! So! I made a shitpost about Tyr and his... growing list of aus and other shit I've made him do. So now because there's a lot of lore in my goldfish bowl of a brain about it sometimes and so hopefully anyone who is like, "Dot, what the Fuck are you smoking?" can find some semblance of an answer to that, I have made a slightly less shitpost (maybe...), more written guide to The Bullshit I Am On.

This brought to you by uh... there are several of you that are enablers. You know who you are. Blows you a kiss through the screen.

The rest of you? Welcome to my shitposting. I am only partially sorry. But get comfortable because I'm not about to stop. : D

Imperial Agent, moniker: "Cipher Nine"

The man, the myth, the legend, the og. Tyr Deckard, formerly Cipher Nine of Imperial Intelligence, double agent for the Republic Strategic Information Service answering to code name Legate.

Eventually turns Commander of the Eternal Alliance.

Primarily, if I'm talking about this bad bitch, it's as his og agent self. This is the foundation upon which all of my following nonsense came off of, which is why "ch: tyr" still talks about mostly this bad bitch, and all these other bad bitches that are and aren't him at the exact same time have other weird tags I have banged into existence with, like, a frying pan.

I love him and he needs to retire.

His character page is about this. I promise.

related tags; ch: tyr

Actually he has a pinterest board i haven't been obnoxious about in public yet either. merry crisis!

Smuggler; known alias: "Oliver Daxton"

A companion au as much as a Tyr in the smuggler campaign in general-au. Reimagines Tyr as an ex-Imperial agent that defected out of Imperial Intelligence to the SIS, former Cipher Ten turned SIS Agent Oliver Daxton.

Started as an ask from @captainderyn that I just decided to be a little insane about, I guess.

Joins the titular Smuggler on Hoth as their contact point for the White Maw job and can potentially act as their right-hand. For fic writing purposes, I pair him with one of my other smugglers, Cee, and I primarily discuss Oli in that lens.

If Risha is Cee's right hand woman, Oliver is her left-hand man. In the smoke and dust after Corellia, Oliver and Master Sumalee pull a few strings with the SIS and have him reassigned with the new Voidhound more long-term, to protect the Republic's latest investment in underworld logistics.

In a potential edition of KOTXX events, when Cee goes missing in the wake of Marr's destroyed fleet, Oliver takes over her contact network and assumes her moniker as Voidhound, attempting to run supplies through Eternal Empire blockades initially in tandem with SIS efforts, before the straining relations between the Republic, Sith Empire, and the Eternal Empire of Zakuul break Oliver's overall faith in the Republic's true goals, and he takes the Voidhound's fleet to act independently until he is later contacted by Theron Shan to come home to the Alliance and reunite with Cee.

related tags; vs: king and lionheart [smuggler!tyr]

Oli does not have a pinterest board. Yet. Sorry to set a trend and expectations and then immediately throw a wrench in it.

Bounty Hunter; known alias: "Kyranthe Rayne"

Shared au verse with @hyrohkaah; primarily focused in on the five year gap preceding KOTFE and following. A "Valkorian hot potato" role swap to shared verse events with Tyr & their Jedi Knight, Hyroh Kaah.

Involves a bit of timeline fuckery because timelines are a playground and this is already an au.

The short & sweet; Tyr adopts the alias "Kyranthe Rayne" and becomes a bounty hunter and assassin primarily for-hire following Hyroh's disappearance with Marr's fleet. Struck hard by the loss of a best friend, confidant, and lover, as Ky, he has already cut ties with Sith Intelligence earlier following the events on Ziost and now employs his former skills as a Cipher agent for his benefit first. And also to seek a little vengeance on the corrupt systems and parties that put him through hell as Cipher Nine.

Runs into Mako on the course of one of his hunts and basically adopts her. They are friends and partners now. They, in turn, also eventually adopt a stray former Jedi padawan named Ezekiel (also @hyrohkaah).

Ezekiel and Tyr got that sad, neglected, bonded, do not separate shelter dog rizz together. Eze essentially becomes his daughter. Bc it turns out Eze was also once a Sith Acolyte, so they share Imperial Abandonment Trauma (TM) and probably much to the stress of both of his now-adopted daughters, Tyr will kill people for them without so much as blinking.

In short, a Tyr who very nearly managed to get out and have a life beyond being an agent with Hyroh, lost that in the Wild Space expedition, spent approximately five years beaten down by the galaxy's assumption Hyroh had been killed, and who thus became a bit harder and a lot more stubborn about his boundaries in the aftermath of it all.

Eventually turns covert operative for the Eternal Alliance and is Hyroh's very fiercely protective guard dog of a boyfriend and personal advisor as Hyroh is thrust to become Commander of the Alliance.

relevant tags; vs: my mind is a place i can't escape your ghost [bh!tyr]

woe! pinterest board be upon ye!

Sith Warrior; known alias: "Tyr Kyrane"

I'm blaming this one mostly on @hyrohkaah because this is a take I said I'd never do for Tyr and now look what we're doing.

Full, actual, proper hot potato between Hyroh and Tyr, aka actual role swap where Tyr's the Force-sensitive one and Hyroh is the Imperial Agent. Crunchy Sith and Imperial power dynamics. Just as much devotion in blood. Just as much stupid displays of affection (eventually).

Partially reimagines Tyr's origin, of course, as adopted into the Sith Kyrane family following his parents' reported deaths (I'll neither confirm nor deny if this incarnation is still related to Keeper. Let's all suffer with the uncertainty. >:3), but not shown to be Force-sensitive until his early teens.

Thus struggles with alternating pressures of never being good enough for the family because he wasn't Sith, then because he wasn't of their own blood, and then especially because he's not of their blood, so any failures will be his own weakness, but could absolutely disgrace the house. Rigorous dance training eventually translates into dual training in dance and the demand to master the art of wielding a dual-bladed saber.

Connections with Overseer Tremel through the family bring him to Korriban slightly ahead of schedule, but Tremel takes over his training personally and paces it... far more evenly than his family. So you can imagine what Baras's later request for him to strike against the one man who perhaps gave half a damn about his well-being is like.

But, long story short, will attempt to use his eventual position as Wrath to curb some of the Dark Council's infighting and will take a particular interest in the remains of the Empire's Intelligence operations, thus adopted former Cipher Nine Hyroh Kaah as a personal agent in weeding out the remaining security risks of Baras's network of intelligence assets and informants.

Power couple shit, to be honest.

The babies of the aus because Joel and I had to make me bargain with myself to fucking finish his bounty hunter playthrough first and also maybe my Consular I've been neglecting on Satele Shan for fucking months, good god someone stop me.

relevant tags; vs: no stranger would it be [sith!tyr]

and bc i'm insane, perceive my madness about them: pinterest

Republic Trooper, Commanding Officer - Havoc Squad

An edition of Tyr that grew up in Republic space under the care of his single mother. They bounced around a fair bit between her work, sometimes moving planets entirely.

In his mid-teens, Tyr picked up work at a mechanic's shop - the latest in a series of odd jobs to help his mother make ends meet. As a side to that, he also got into racing swoopbikes. And accidentally ended up sort of in the middle of an SIS op that ultimately concluded in a staged accident in one of his races when he was sixteen. Tyr still has the scars on his chin and left shoulder.

Officially recruited into the Republic Strategic Information Service at 18, when he promptly moved out. His relationship with his mother had always been a bit strained and a touch distanced, so Tyr rarely saw much of her after the move. He did, however, continue to send her parts of his paychecks back to help her stay above board.

Ends up in SpecForce as an SIS plant with the goal of investigating rumored SpecForce unrest, desertions, and other unusual activity. Was never meant to stay assigned to Havoc Squad, but then... the whole squad turned to the Imps in front of him and... the rest is kinda history.

Has a tight, but somewhat up and down relationship with fellow Havoc recruit turned pilot in Hyroh. In short, Tyr isn't always the greatest fit as Havoc's CO, nor do him and Hyroh always see eye to eye based on differences in experiences with Republic loyalty.

Ultimately, however, Hyroh, Aric Jorgan, Elara Dorne, and Tyr are pretty ride or die. Despite the rocky lows and through the highs, they are consistently the people left around, the ones looking after each other. Tyr learns a lot about what he values and what truly matters: the people right beside you.

relevant tags: vs: kiss with a fist / self-control in locker room showers [trooper!tyr]

also has an edition where I made him suffer as the Outlander in KOTXX, which. exacerbates his issues developed as a Republic soldier in the thick of the war. that gets its own tag: vs: all their words for glory / they all sound so empty [outlander trooper!tyr]

pinterest!