#thread: reunions in the sand

[estellan0vella]

Reunited & Dearly Departed ❀ Yuta Okkotsu Masterlist

The chaos of Shibuya is deafening. The cacophony of crashing buildings, anguished screams, and the grotesque roars of curses create a symphony of despair. You stumble through the shattered streets, the weight of exhaustion and pain dragging at your every step.

Blood drips from a gash on your forehead, mingling with the sweat and grime that coat your skin. Your limbs feel like lead, each movement an agonizing effort, but you push forward, driven by a singular purpose: finding Yuta.

You remember the last time you saw him, his eyes fierce and determined as he promised to return to you. You had parted ways with a lingering kiss, a promise of reunion hanging unspoken in the air. But that feels like a lifetime ago. The world has shifted beneath your feet, plunging you into a nightmare where survival is a tenuous thread, and hope is a fragile whisper.

The streets of Shibuya are a labyrinth of destruction. Buildings that once stood tall now lie in ruins, their skeletal remains casting eerie shadows in the flickering light of fires. Your heart pounds in your chest, a relentless drumbeat that drowns out the distant sounds of battle. You have faced many enemies, but none as relentless as Kenjaku. His power is overwhelming, a force of nature that has left you battered and broken.

You had fought bravely, using every ounce of your strength and skill to hold him at bay. But it wasn't enough. He was too powerful, his cursed energy a tidal wave that swept over you, leaving you gasping for breath. The memory of his cold, calculating eyes sends a shiver down your spine. He had toyed with you, enjoying your futile attempts to stand against him. And when he had finally struck the decisive blow, you had known in that moment that your time was running out.

The pain in your side flares up again, a sharp reminder of the injury that is slowly sapping your life away. You press a hand to the wound, feeling the sticky warmth of blood seeping through your fingers. The edges of your vision blur, but you force yourself to stay upright, to keep moving. You can't afford to stop, not now. Not when you're so close.

Through the haze of pain, you hear a familiar voice calling your name. It is a sound that cuts through the chaos, filling you with a fleeting sense of relief. You turn, searching the wreckage for the source, and your heart leaps when you see him.

Yuta is a vision of both strength and despair, his face a mask of worry as he battles his way through the debris. His clothes are torn and bloodied, his hair matted with sweat, but to you, he is a beacon of hope. You try to call out to him, but your voice is a mere whisper, lost in the tumult.

He spots you, his eyes widening in horror as he takes in your condition. In an instant, he is at your side, his arms wrapping around you in a desperate embrace. The warmth of his touch is a stark contrast to the cold numbness that has settled into your bones. You cling to him, drawing strength from his presence even as your own strength wanes.

"Stay with me," he pleads, his voice breaking. "Please, just hold on a little longer."

You manage a weak smile, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is rough beneath your fingers, a reminder of the battles he has fought and the scars he bears. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice trembling with the effort. "I tried..."

"Don't apologize," he interrupts, his eyes filled with a fierce determination. "We're going to get through this. Together."

You want to believe him, to hold on to the hope that his words offer. But the darkness is closing in, and you can feel your strength slipping away like sand through your fingers. You look into his eyes, memorizing every detail, every line and shadow. You want to remember this moment, to carry it with you wherever you go.

"Yuta," you say softly, your voice barely audible. "I love you."

Tears well up in his eyes, spilling over and tracing paths down his cheeks. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "More than anything."

You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words wash over you. For a moment, the pain fades, and all you can feel is the love that surrounds you. It is a fragile, beautiful thing, a beacon of light in the darkness. You hold on to it, cherishing it as your vision begins to blur and fade.

"I'm so sorry," Yuta whispers, his voice choked with grief. "I should have been there. I should have protected you."

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it's not his fault, that you don't blame him. But the words won't come. Your body is shutting down, the fight finally draining the last of your energy. You can feel the warmth of his tears on your face, the gentle pressure of his lips as he kisses your forehead.

"It's okay," you manage to whisper, your voice barely a breath. "It's okay, Yuta."

He holds you tighter, his body shaking with sobs. You wish you could stay, to soothe his pain and share his burden. But your time is running out, and you can feel the pull of the darkness growing stronger. You take one last breath, savoring the scent of him, the feel of his arms around you.

As the world fades to black, you hold on to the memory of his love, a light that will guide you into the unknown. And with your last breath, you whisper his name, a final testament to the bond that has brought you this far.

Yuta's cries echo in the darkness, a haunting reminder of the love you shared and the future that will never be. But even as the pain fades, you know that you will carry his love with you, a part of you forever intertwined with his.

In the end, it's not the pain or the fear that lingers, but the love. The love that brought you together, that gave you the strength to fight, and that will endure long after the darkness has claimed you. And as you slip into the unknown, you hold on to that love, knowing that it will guide you wherever you go.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

<<spoilers in this blurb guys!!>>

the 'reunion' of the high cloud quintet wasn't always something that had been weighing on blade's mind- he had seldom remembered the past. being with the stellaron hunters and going on missions directed by elio was a good distraction- what with kafka's words supplying him the numbness he needed to keep his mara in check. still, the person he mentioned needing to see before leaving the luofu was no doubt related to that very past.

when kafka had parted ways with the trailblazer after getting blade's condition back under control, you stood off to the side of the meeting place in the divination commission and watched as he also had a brief conversation with the stellaron-infused being.

in truth, you weren't sure what you were doing here. you had no reason to be and the script elio had prepared was finished, hence why kafka had already left. you should be right behind her, moving to get back to rest up before your next errand. and yet, you stood against the wall with one arm crossed over your chest and the other looking lazily at your phone screen.

the text thread between you, kafka, and silver wolf was mostly kafka announcing her return, silver wolf trying to convince you to come back to help her with some sort of dual hack for some game, and you saying that you would be on your way shortly. by the time you had left the thread and lifted your eyes from the screen to the looming shadow that now stood near you, the trailblazer had vanished, and blade was within your bubble.

"all finished?" you asked plainly, pocketing your phone before pushing off the wall and standing to meet him. his aura was always somewhat intimidating, but you had been around him long enough that it hardly phased you anymore. plus, he was probably exhuasted from the constant flow of mara that had just now been placed under wraps again. not that he would admit it.

"there are other matters." he blandly responds. with a sigh, your hands come up to your midrift and silently prod him for an answer to your silent question. 'am i staying or leaving?' "do as you please," was his reply. as he started off, you shifted your weight to your left and shook your head.

someone had to make sure he made it back, and since kafka had already up and left...

if he found your trailing presence irritating, he made no mention of it as you both found your way towards scalegorge waterscape.

stepping off the small boat that had carried you to the destination, your feet pressed firmly into the sand of the shore. from where you were, you could vaguely see a small group of four already near the statue of imbibitor lunae. your throat felt tight as you glanced over at blade, knowing that this has something to do with him and most probably his past that haunts his body.

without speaking, you move past him to lean against a large enough rock to support your weight comfortably.

"i'll be here when you're finished," you said. your back was towards the center of the land, and beyond it was the parted sea of dragon palace. you had been curious to see such a sight, but you knew now was not the time- and since now wasn't possible, you just swallowed your disappointment because you knew you wouldn't be returning to the luofu to ever try and see it again.

the visage of the calm sea that drifted your small vessel here would have to suffice.

"I won't be long," he tells you back, and whether he means it or not you're unsure. still, it was strange that he even replied to you in the first place- like a reassurance he would be back at all. you heard his boots crunching and shifting the sand as he made his way more inland until you couldn't hear him anymore.

you let out a deep breath before lifting your leg up. you rested your ankle on your opposite knee and set your elbow up so your chin rested in your palm. the breeze was nice at least.

you sat there for a while before you heard a commotion loud enough it made you tempted to go up shore and find out what was happening. blade could handle himself in more ways than one, you knew this fact well. still, the more you heard the more intrigue gathered in your mind. it was the echoing of blades clashing that finally got you to drop both your legs to the sand and start sauntering to where he had started off to before.

when you had finally made it, you slid behind one of the many fracture stone walls and peered around it. the blonde man and two cloud knights you briefly saw earlier had left, but the general had remained. alongside him and blade were two others, a woman with long white hair with a blindfold and the man you recognized as dan heng- one of the nameless that had been on the luofu at the same time as the trailblazer.

of course, you also knew that dan heng as imbibitor lunae with how much of an effect he had on blade before kafka had shut him away in some random building to calm him down.

whatever had happened had already concluded with blade laying on his back on the ground before bursting awake again with a gasp and small cough as he picked himself up. you had half a mind to go to his side and act as his crutch- as much as that would tick him off- but you refrained. it felt... wrong to let yourself be seen with so many people present. people you didn't even know at that.

so, you tucked yourself back behind the wall fully and shut your eyes, waiting until the chatter died. and soon it did. first the woman left, then the general, followed by blade's voice speaking coldly to dan heng. then, finally, silence and the sea.

feeling safer, you allowed yourself to step out into the open and as you suspected, all had cleared out aside from the black-haired man who kept his gaze glued to the eroded statue of a friend long since lost to him.

while he stared off into space, you finally turned your attention to the parted sea you were so interested in. you let a satisfied smile grace your features, as you look on at the beauty of the walls of water and what it had previously enclose in its depths. it truly was a wonderous sight, and you felt a little less guilty for being nosy as you gazed at it.

satisfactory eyes shut before you looked back to blade, seeing if he was done reminiscing... moping? whatever it was he was doing. his gaze had dropped from the statue at some point before you saw and he was now locked onto you. maybe he was waiting for you to finish gawking. you felt unsettled under the gaze of his heavy, crimson eye that wasn't concealed by his hair.

"are you quite finished?" his voice asked you before you cleared your throat.

"don't act like you were waiting on me."

"i was." your head dropped with a sigh. he was the one keeping you waiting! after all it was his mess you had to tag along with him for. was he pinning blame here?

"let's just go," you huff. "i'm sure the general won't be as generous if he sees us roaming around yet another time. kafka is probably already back by now." you turn your back and brush shoulders with the immortal, mara-man before stretching your arms in the arm as you step further away from him.

blade watched you go, getting further from his visage. watching your arms stretch then fall, seeing your shoulders expand then drop with each deep breath you took, yingxing almost felt envious of your life. then, with closed eyes, he reminded himself that you had suffered your own losses and closed the gates to those emotions he had lost.

in truth, he was waiting for you. knowing that you wanted to see the remains of the hidden sea palace even though you never voiced it was easy enough to read. he had been beside you long enough to read you and it helped he was already a fairly good judge of character to begin with. so, he waited for you to get your fill of the sight before finally bringing your attention back to him.

"blade!" you yell with a slight twinge in your voice. he opened his eyes and saw you had stopped walking, not hearing him fall behind you in step and turned around with your arms crossed. "we're leaving sometime soon i hope."

blade said nothing as he finally turned to chase you with his own, long languid steps. somehow, even if his old friends had drifted, died and shunned him for crimes that could never be taken back, being with the stellaron hunters- even if for ulterior motives- felt easier on him.

you especially somehow.

[ryehouses]

Did the other Skiratas ever talk to Boba?

just for you, hell yeah they did!

set post-ast in some nebulous time after the sarlacc pit! cw for the usual re: clones and also re: boba and also re: clones and boba.

in which there are feelings that are discussed instead of stabbed, which is an improvement over most fett family reunions. 

Alright, thought Ordo Skirata, halfway up the side of a tower, clinging to a smooth sandstone wall and hoping that Prudii’s distraction out in the sands had drawn most of the palace guards and the other Mandalorians and hopefully the mand’alor himself off to investigate, I might be too old for this. 

That wasn’t the sort of thing that Ordo would ever admit out loud, of course, because the thought of handing over leadership of the clan to any one of a dozen or so Skirata children made Ordo itch beneath his armor, but he could admit it to himself inside the quiet of his own buc’ye. 

Damn the kaminiise anyway, he thought. Forty-six years in the galaxy looked and felt like sixty or seventy, to Ordo. Seventy was too old to be climbing up towards in the dead of night and organizing raids against sovereign – or sort of sovereign, because Ordo, Mereel and Jaing hadn’t actually stuck around after that business with the sarlacc to figure out what the new ruling structure of Mandalore was going to be – territories. 

Ah, well. Regrets were for the dead and Ordo wasn’t dead yet, no matter what his protesting knees or his aching shoulder said, and he was here to do a job. Only the job mattered right now. 

Why Ordo’s chosen to assign himself the task of climbing up a heavily-guarded tower in the middle of nowhere on karking Tatooine, of all places, was still somewhat of a mystery to Ordo, but he’d already gone to the trouble of starting. The only thing to do was see it through. 

Boba Fett had kitted his palace out like a real morut. Ordo hadn’t even been able to approach from the air; Fett had some kind of finely-tuned motion sensor at the crown of his palace, and even a bird flying past would trigger the palace’s security sensors. 

Ordo hoped that coming from the ground would at least gain him entry into the palace. Fett could hardly expect anyone to climb up two or three hundred feet of wind-worn desert sandstorm and so far no one’d picked Ordo off f the wall, but he still had a good sixty feet of climbing left. 

Far out in the desert, there was another distant boom. Night reigned over Tatooine. The moons were dark. Ordo’d swapped his usual beskar’gam for Vau’s old blacks, counting on the darkness to further hide him. 

Prudii better not overdo it, he thought. I needed the mand’alor out of the palace, not a declaration of war.

After the Mandalorian summit – after the little dust-up with the Hutts here on Tatooine, too, which had admittedly been a bit of fun for Ordo and his brothers – Clan Skirata had retreated carefully back to their own territory. Mereel’d wanted to come to the summit just to see what the others were doing, but Ordo had no intention of wading back into Mandalorian politics. He’d watched Mandalore tear itself to pieces once already. 

But as the days had turned into weeks and the weeks into months, something about the whole experience – the summit, the battle, Boba karking Fett of all people allying himself with Mandalorians, when he was infamous among the clones for rejecting any and all attempts at burcyan – had stayed with Ordo like an itch beneath his armor or a loose thread on his kama, and the itch had become curiosity and the curiosity had become, well. 

This, thought Ordo. 

There was no reason to try to talk with Boba Fett. Ordo honestly couldn’t say if he’d ever exchanged more than a word or two with him, back in the days of Kamino. Fett didn’t care about the tatug’ad. He never had. 

Ordo had never cared much for any clone outside of his close circle of brothers himself, and ten years ago if Ordo’d been invited to a Mandalorian summit and found himself looking at the Prime’s chosen son, Ordo would have turned around and slipped away, content to keep his clan and their business out of Fett’s. 

But something Mereel had said to Ordo, before they’d gone to Krownest, stuck with him. 

“The last time you saw him, he was ten,” Mereel had said. “Remember how awful your kids were at ten?” 

Boba Fett had been an unpleasant boy, on Kamino. A perfect copy of Jango Fett, complete with the Prime’s sour temper. But he had been ten. 

And we left him behind, thought Ordo, craning his neck up to look at his destination. He was nearly there; Fett’s rooms were open on all sides to the wind and the sky, protected when he needed them protected by blast doors and motion sensors. Fett, however, clearly hadn’t been expecting someone to be jare’la enough to try climbing up the spire. 

ARC training was good for something. 

The itch that Ordo felt under his armor – that he’d felt for the first time on Krownest, watching Fett stride across the ice, surrounded on all sides by enemies – was guilt, Ordo thought. Kal’buir had taught his boys to look out for their own. Ordo had always done his best to look out for his brothers, for Jaing and Kom’rk and Mereel and A’den, for Prudii and Fi and the other clones who’d left the GAR, made their way to Mandalore, to freedom. But he hadn’t looked after Fett. 

He’s a man now, Ordo thought. Has been as long as we have. He doesn’t need us to look after him. Has never needed us to look after him. 

Fett hadn’t liked admitting that he was literally one of millions, on Kamino. He’d thought the fact that the Prime had chosen him meant that he’d been better than all of the other clones.  

But he was alone. No clone – not even an exact clone of Jango Fett himself – had been made to be alone. 

That guilt had grown and grown. Now Ordo was here, hooking his fingers around the edge of the ledge that circled Fett’s rooms at the top of the tower, and his brothers were off drawing Mandalorians away so that Ordo could talk with Fett. 

It is my duty to offer him aid, if he needs it, thought Ordo. Only a few on Krownest stood for him. 

Several members of Death Watch had attended the summit on Krownest. Many kyr’tsad survivors had done their best to stamp out any trace of the True Mandalorians Fett was no True Mandalorian, but he’d had his share of enemies there on the lake. 

Mereel and I went over this, he thought. One conversation. One offer of aid. Then I’m gone, and I can set any guilt I have aside. 

Ordo got a decent grip on the ledge and hauled himself upright, his shoulders complaining. He came up off of the wall in a crouch and scanned the room. Fett’s rooms were wide and spacious, cooled by night air. He had only a little furniture. A long table strewn with datapads, a few chairs, a bed. Ordo straightened and took a step into the room. He was pleased that the motion sensors hadn’t been triggered. He pulled his helmet off and tucked it under an arm, scanning the shadows for Fett. 

He didn’t have to look very hard. Ordo took another step into the room and Boba Fett himself stepped out of the shadows, kitted in full armor but for his helmet, and leveled a weapon at Ordo. 

“Don't move. Who are – ah,” growled Fett, pausing when he caught sight of Ordo’s face. Fett had aged naturally. He was Ordo’s age, maybe a few years younger, but he hadn’t grown twenty years in the space of ten, thirty years in the space of fifteen.. Ordo’s hair had gone grey since they had all been children on Kamino, his face creased with age. Most looked at him now and didn’t see a clone. 

Fett did. His eyes widened. Ordo watched him with interest. 

He doesn’t see me as an enemy, then, he thought. That was – a surprise. Ordo’d watched Fett, at that summit. Fett was hostile on a good day. 

But he didn’t rush in for an attack. Fett was armored, everything but his helmet snapped into place, and he held a dark, dangerous-looking staff in one hand. His face could have been carved from stone. But he didn’t lunge. 

Maybe time has mellowed him as it has the rest of us, Ordo thought. I can work with that.

He raised his hands to show Fett that they were empty and said, “Boba Fett. I’m not here to start a war.”

“You’re a Skirata,” Fett said, studying Ordo. The hostility in his eyes hadn't lessened. “I thought you’d died off, by now.” He didn’t lower his weapon. 

Ordo inclined his head, ignoring the insult. “I am,” he said. “I'm Ordo." He didn't bother with his clan name, since Fett knew it already.

Fett’s lip curled. “A Null.” 

Ordo waved a hand. The motion made Fett twitch, his fingers curling more tightly around his staff. One end of the staff was shaped like a club and the other ended in a fearsome spike. 

“None of that matters any more,” Ordo said. Null, ARC, commando, pilot; the war was over. The war had been over. 

Fett snorted. “It always matters,” he said. “What do you want, Skirata? The noise in the desert is your doing, I assume.” 

“It is,” Ordo said. When Fett’s jaw tightened, Ordo added, in a tone he’d perfected around the dinner table in the karyai of Kyrmorut instead of on the battlefield. “No one’s going to get hurt. It’s a distraction, nothing more. You have my word.” He'd made Prudii and Jaing swear not to kill anyone. Somehow Mandalore had begun to revive itself without any blood feuds. Clan Skirata didn't need to start the first one.  

“A distraction,” Fett rumbled. He was shorter than Ordo’d expected him to be. All of Ordo’s brothers were precisely six feet tall, grown by Kaminoan hands and Kaminoan nutrient bars, but Fett was several inches smaller.

Not enough food to go around as a boy, Ordo thought. Like Kal’buir. 

Another sensation itched underneath Ordo’s armor, prickling like the first, like the sensation that had driven Ordo out of his comfortable home, away from his family. Ordo knew that it was guilt. 

Fett looked strong, though. He was solid and his stance was rooted, feet spread apart like the base of a mountain. 

“If you’re here to speak with the mand’alor, he’s not here,” Fett growled. “He’s out dealing with your distraction. He takes Mandalorians at the High House. No Mandalorians come here."

That was a blatant lie. Ordo chose to ignore it.

“I know where he is,” Ordo said. That had been the point. Ordo had no business with Din Djarin, the Mandalore; his business was with Fett alone. “I’m not here for him.” 

Fett narrowed his eyes. Ordo kept ten or twelve feet between them, ready to move if Fett moved first. “You have no business with me either,” he said. 

“I do,” Ordo disagreed. Fett’s face was set into a hard plane of dislike. Distrust. 

“You don’t,” Fett said, his voice a furious rumble. “We’ve never had business between us.”

Ordo heard the unspoken accusation. You never wanted anything to do with me, Fett was saying. And I want kark-all to do with you. 

Ordo hadn’t climbed three hundred feet of tower to be dismissed so easily, though. He shrugged. “We’re kin,” he said. 

“We are not.” 

“Allies, the,” Ordo said. That drew another snort from Fett. “You are the mand’alor’s ally, aren’t you?” Ordo said. “My clan has no fight to pick with him.”

“Just me, then,” Fett said. 

Ordo fell silent again, studying Fett intently. Fett was ready for a fight. His face was perfectly still, smooth as granite. 

“Just you,” Ordo finally agreed. “Though I didn’t come here to fight.” 

“What did you come here for, then?” Fett demanded, every bit as impatient as the Prime. As the Nulls, who’d had too much of him. “Think quickly, Skirata, before I decide to put this – ” he broke off to lift his staff higher, so that Ordo could see its wicked spike “ – to good use.” 

Ordo sighed. To the point, then. 

“Clan Skirata has – concerns,” he said. “We thought we’d offer our aid to a brother, if he needed it. Standing in the middle of joha’kaan’s a dangerous place for any Mandalorian. For a Mandalorian alone.” 

“You’re – concerned,” Fett said flatly. He raised his staff like he was thinking about lobbing it at Ordo’s head. 

Mereel should be the one doing this, Ordo thought. He’s better at diplomacy than me. 

Wary, Ordo nodded. 

“About me,” Fett clarified. When he said it, it did sound absurd. Fett had never been treated as a clone, not on Kamino. He’d grown up naturally. Hadn’t been flash-trained or poked and prodded by the Kaminoans. Hadn’t spilled blood in the Clone Wars. Fett was no more Ordo’s brother than the mand’alor was. 

But he was alone, said a voice in Ordo’s head that sounded like his father. You were safe on Mandalore, surrounded by your clan, and Boba Fett was alone for thirty years.  

Guilt sharpened. 

“...Yeah,” Ordo said. He didn’t know how to explain it to Fett, not properly. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. Discomfort was a novel feeling. Ordo didn’t much care for it.  

“Why,” said Fett, in a tone that suggested to Ordo that Ordo ought to have either a satisfactory answer or an exit plan to get away from that staff. 

Ordo looked at the man who could have been his brother and said nothing for a moment. Boba Fett and Ordo Skirata weren’t much alike. They shared a genetic code and little else. Not a life, not a war, not even a face, really, beyond the shape of Fett’s nose, the line of Ordo’s jaw. If Ordo spoke, he wasn’t sure that he’d be understood. 

So Ordo did what Kal’buir would have done, and told the truth. 

“None of us were made to be alone,” Ordo said. “Not even you.” 

Fett’s expression didn’t change. “That didn’t seem to concern you thirty years ago,” he observed, still in that same flat, disinterested voice. “And it shouldn’t concern you now.” 

“Maybe not,” Ordo agreed. Fett was hardly a lost little clone these days, barely more than a tubie, cheeks round with baby fat. He’d survived, same as the rest of them. Thrived, even; none of Ordo’s brothers could call themselves kings. “But still. We thought we’d check, when we heard that Death Watch was involved.” There were plenty among the mando’ade who would happily kill Fett to avenge kin slain by Jaster Mereel or Jango Fett. And now that the mand’alor was living here on Tatooine, those old kyr’stad warriors might be tempted to seize the opportunity and kill Fett while the mand’alor’s back was turned. 

While the mand’alor is elsewhere, Ordo thought. Drawn away by another enemy. 

“There is no Death Watch,” said Fett, and for the first time since Ordo’d heaved himself up over the lip of Fett’s window, Fett’s hard stone expression eased. It didn’t soften, because bedrock, choruk be te vheh, couldn’t soften, had no softness in its nature, but now instead of looking at a sheer cliff Ordo was looking at enough of a slope to stand on. 

Or I’m the one who’s getting soft, he thought wryly. Boba Fett might be the stone of the earth, but Ordo had always been something else.

“Not here, anyway,” Fett said. 

“No?” Ordo said. He hadn’t apologized. Fett wouldn’t want him to, Ordo didn’t think. Fett hadn’t been Ordo’s responsibility, and even if Ordo – or, more likely, Kal’buir, who had never managed to walk away from a child who had needed his help or his care – had thought to find Fett in those first chaotic days of the war, Fett wouldn’t have stayed with the Nulls. He had too much of the Prime in him, and not enough of Kal’buir. “Must’ve got some bad intel, then, ‘cause I could’ve sworn that that mand’alor of yours was Death Watch.” 

“He quit,” said Fett, his tone going flat and dangerous again. 

Ordo raised his hands, palms up and empty, in a sign of peace. “Alright,” he said. “And the others? Bo-Katan Kryze and her verde, the Owls, the Saxons?” 

Fett shrugged. “I don’t have much to do with them,” he said. “I’m in the business of making credits, Skirata, not ruling Mandalore.” 

Ordo’s intelligence came from Jaing, who’d gotten it from his youngest girl, who had an in with one of the Saxon boys and another with an annoyingly cheerful and persistent shabuir who worked underneath old Fenn Rau. Ordo trusted Jaing’s daughter more than he trusted Boba Fett. If the new mand’alor had once been Death Watch – 

Well. None of that was Ordo’s business. He’d followed the old ghost of Kal’buir and come to check on his wayward brother, because Kal would have wanted to care about what happened to Boba Fett and in his advancing age Ordo found it hard to shut that old ghost out. 

Weakness, Ordo thought, in a voice that sounded cold and clipped and Kaminoan. 

All men are weak, Ord’ika, said a different voice. Just don’t let it kill you. 

So. Fett was fine. He was living with – married to, if the jor’ika around the more Mandalorian parts of the galaxy was right – this new mand’alor, and apparently had let go of his grudges enough that he could tolerate former Death Watch assassins hanging around. 

Maybe he doesn’t have too much of the Prime after all, thought Ordo. He made an interested noise. “Not in the business of ruling Mandalore?” Ordo said. He hesitated for only a bare second, aware that what he said next could get him punched in the nose by a Fett clone, who was genetically predisposed to punch rather hard, but decided that he’d rather take the risk and confirm Jaing’s intel, since it seemed that Mandalore was rising again, and it paid to keep an eye on growing power. “But here I thought that Mandalore the True spent most of his nights here in your bed,” said Ordo. 

His gut instinct had been right. Fett did punch him, hard and fast, square in Ordo’s nose. 

Ordo rolled with the blow and only staggered a little. The bright metal taste of blood filled his mouth. 

“Don’t call him that,” said Fett. His hand was still curled into a fist but he didn’t press his advantage and swing on Ordo again. 

He is one of the brothers, Ordo thought, a kernel of something that might have been affection – and what Ordo was going to pretend was just grudging respect – taking root beneath his armor. 

“He’s hoping it doesn’t stick,” said Fett. He finally set his staff aside, propping it up on the work table. Fett was still wary, was still watching Ordo with a fierce expression on his face, but he had put down his weapon. For a Mandalorian, that was a sign that a verd was open to negotiation. That a verd mmight listen.

Ordo hadn't been a soldier in a very long time but he remembered how to talk like one. How to talk to one.

Fett was angry. Fett wanted to fight. Ordo wasn't angry.

“What’s he like, then?” Ordo said, standing back up straight. He set his nose with a practiced twist and ignored the blood in his mouth. Spitting on Tatooine was impolite, he’d heard. “We’ve heard ‘Mandalore the Just’ and ‘Mandalore the Fair,’ too, though we couldn’t tell if that was referring to his politics or to his face.” 

Ordo had seen this new mand’alor on Krownest. Everyone had. Ordo was forty-six years old, physically closer to seventy, and he was a father and a grandfather and a happily married man. 

But, he thought, amused, as Fett’s hand curled into a fist and a very Prime light glittered in his face, I do have eyes. 

Fortunately, Fett managed to restrain the impulse to hit Ordo again, which was probably for the best. Ordo could let him have the one hit, but allowing two offended Ordo’s pride. If he and Fett were to be allies – and Ordo suspected that they were allies, or that they would be allies soon, because Ordo had enough of Kal Skirata in him to know that once he claimed a clone a kin, Ordo would not – could not – change his mind.

Daro's a good place for a morut, he thought. But the clan's big enough now that it might be time for the young to set off on their own. To build a new morut.

Tatooine was a large planet. There were plenty of places for a resourceful band of warriors to scratch out a good living.

“Ordo,” Fett said, after thinking for a moment. “Get out of my house.” 

[sirserpentine]

Thread Tracker:

Drafts:10 Queue:0 Inbox:0

Mainverse:

Before the Hotel:

@circus-frog

Ow. Between them, they have two arms, one voice and zero legs.

During the Hotel

@hazbinned:

We're trapped due to Madam Trainor! Angel's night-time prank ends up with him and Pentious getting locked up in Pentious' room. Time for a sleepover!

The Stage is Set. Alastor and Sir Pentious have decided to put on a play in the hotel and the rehearsals have started. Shenanigans ensue. (Part 2 of The Partner Directors.)

At the Blood Ball. Sir Pentious accompanies Alastor and Angel Dust to Rosie's ( @cannibalxroses ) Ball. Waltzing, food and drinks. And a lot of complicated emotions.

Distraction. Pentious wants to offer his friend ( @angie-long-legs ) a chance to have some fun. It requires him to avert Valentino's attention.

You're gonna need a bigger boat. Husk and Sir Pentious try to make the best of a forced fun day on the beach, but some disturbing freaks of nature do everything in their power to ruin it for them. /MY TURN

The Road Trip of Hell. The Hotel Gang decides to go on a week-long road trip to the edges of Pentagram City and beyond. What could go wrong?

@radioiaci:

Human Holiday. Two demons go on a very unusual vacation to the living world./MY TURN

The Dawn. Pentious recovers from his injuries and gets used to a new reality with Alastor's help./MY TURN

@dark-ambition @rradiio

The Hellanovela. Pentious meets Arackniss in a dark alleyway after some long decades.

Afternoon stroll. Sir Pentious makes acquaintance with Rosie, the charming Overlord of Cannibal Town.

Doubled! Sir Pentious welcomes an alternate version of himself into his realm.

The Naughty Stool. Kuwako doesn't take kindly to Pentious' disrespect.

@poisonedspider Pole Dance. Angel gives a very hot performance at the club. Is it true that snakes have two...? Angel Dust is curious about some rumours he heard. Oh boy- Beautiful. Angel and Sir Pentious apologise for past grievances.

Father's Day. Angel has big news for Pentious./MY TURN

Gala. Pentious decides to surprise Angel with an elegant night out.

Sneak-in. NSFW

Ledge. Pentious tries to prevent something horrible from happening. (Trigger Warning.)

One, two, three. Pentious and Angel are in for a surprise.

@angie-long-legs

The flood. Pentious helps and cares for Angel when he is amid some traumatic memories.

Sobriety. The heartwarming story about how a spider and a snake learn that they have so much more in common than they thought. :) /MY TURN

@hellpride Canoodles. Lucifer's had enough of Pentious' accidental innuendos. NSFW

@top-shelf-tender

Sand. Pentious and Husk meet on the beach after their surprising encounter.

Surprises. Sir Pentious shows Husk new sides of himself. NSFW

@madsxientific

Disagreements. Baxter and Pentious have vastly different views on the creation of the egg boiz.

Custody Battle.

In Heaven:

@hazbinned Reunion. Emily and Sir Pentious infiltrate Hell to say hello to their friends. /MY TURN

Crepes. Alastor brings Pentious breakfast. Honeymoon phase times 1000. @poisonedspider

We meet again. Angel redeems and ascends to Heaven. He has an old friend waiting for him there!

AUs:

Verse: Probation @hazbinned An alternate reality where Sir Pentious and Alastor both perish in the battle against the exorcists. They end up in Heaven together, as Angels on probation, which wouldn't be too bad if Pentious could still remember something... Emily tries her best to guide their lost souls. Overture. The first redeemed Sinners arrive in Heaven.

Verse: Swapped @hazbinned Alastor makes a well-intentioned wish that has terrible consequences.

Swapped. Alastor descends into a new reality. Verse: Everlasting Sun @veneror in the 1970s, Cyrus Pendrous, a sheltered vampire born in the Victorian era follows the guidance of a self-help book and travels to New York in search of new experiences. He meets a dazzling and sweet drag performer named Angel Dust. They are whisked away on an adventure that takes them all the way to Europe.

Sunrise. A vampire and a drag queen walk into a bar... Verse: You Are the Light After Our Storm @radiiosugars Alternate reality. Rosie sees a potential match between two sewing widows and sets them up on a blind date. Maybe it isn't too late to dream of a family?

The blind date. The two Victorian single pringles are set up.

Verse: The Unholy Crusade

@hells-sirenqueen

Comfort. There cannot be enough in the Unholy Crusade.

Verse: The Flying Serpent Sir Pentious is an elusive Overlord, who oversees a community that resides high in the air.

@top-shelf-tender

Up and away. Pentious finds an injured Sinner out on a patrol after an Extermination.

Verse: Hallmarkisms. Alastor is a jaded businessman in town for just a short visit. Pentious runs his own bakery in his lonesome. You know how it goes.

Archived:

@nebula-gaster

Buzz the Coach. Pentious and Buzz meet on the street, and the former's incompetence inspires Buzz to.... help him?

@hazbinned

The Partner Directors. Alastor and Sir Pentious can't bear the sight of cheap television programs any longer. Out of mutual agreement, they decide to burn it to crisp and make more civilised entertainment themselves. Angel joins their pitch party.

@radioiaci

Dadalastor. Alastor is tasked with looking after the Egg Boiz for a night. Are there some things that are too much even for The Radio Demon?

Bite. Some simple wound mending takes an interesting turn. Fangs are involved.

Blood Pancakes. Pentious surprises Alastor with a peculiar dinner. Things are rather GAY. NSFW

Beach. Pentious invites Alastor to join him for a little break while on the beach

@aracniss

Careful. Arackniss has returned, worse for the wear. Pentious wants to help him. NSFW

Can't wash you away. Pentious and Arackniss meet again by chance. There's lots of boxes to pack.

Hurt. Arackniss shows up at the hotel looking for someone specific.

@angie-long-legs

The princess was sitting there, barbeque sauce on his titties... Pentious notices Angel alone at the Blood Ball. This won't do!

[lavampira]

‘kissing your lover so gently, worried that if you pull away for just a second, they might disappear’ for mindrien? 🩷

ty beloved and good luck 🖤

kissing your lover so gently, worried that if you pull away for just a second, they might disappear | swtor. cadrien tirai/minaiph. 907 words. [prompts]

They had been separated for too long. It’s been like this for some time, but it never gets any easier. The Sanctum sends Cadrien somewhere offworld while Min remains tied to Dromund Kaas, and after a frustrating stretch of loneliness and worry weighing over him, never assuaged until his boots are cast off in the doorway and layers of his armor are peeled away, and Min’s vibrant figure flits before him in the Force.

This last mission had been simple enough. Cadrien returns with only minor bruises, and perhaps a burning ego from being wasted on pithy assignments, another form of punishment for the Claws’ failure on Nar Shaddaa. Not that it matters. Given the choice, Cadrien would still choose to bring Min back alive than finish it.

And the reminder of Min alive and well, and back in his arms, rips him from his thoughts. He had never hoped to have this with him, still floods him with shock with the knowledge that he’s allowed to want it after so long, even let himself sink into it, replacing everything else with relief and love.

Min is the first to close the gap between them. His hand cradles Cadrien’s cheek with fingertips brushing the edge of his mask, and though his kiss is gentle and languid, almost reveling in the reunion, Cadrien is nearly dizzy with it. His own arms encircle Min’s back and shoulder for purchase, recognizing the absurdity yet unwilling to let go or else he may dissipate like mist in his hands.

“Missed me that much?” Min teases when he finally breaks away to speak.

Of course I did, Cadrien thinks, but he swallows it down with a harsh bob of his throat, resting his forehead against him. It’s apparently the wrong response—or rather, Min reads his nonanswer too well. Threads of worry emanate through him and their noses bump together in Min’s hurried attempt to draw back enough to look at him.

“Cade,” Min calls so softly in spite of his deep voice, leaning only a breath apart. “Cadrien.”

His initial response is the slightest tilt of his head, but Min seems to understand, as only he ever does. I’m listening.

Min’s thumb sweeps a slow, gentle path from his scarred lip to his taut jaw before he tries again. “Talk to me.”

Cadrien briefly squeezes his shoulder before releasing him, running the same hand through his hair as he mulls over the tangled thoughts in his head. At this, Min allows him the reprieve to think, not often a patient man but always patient in this, understanding his need to process, to formulate his words before he shares them. He loves him all the more for it, even if he struggles to put voice to them now.

The truth is this: Cadrien hates being apart from him. It’s an unfortunate necessity in Min’s recovery, Cadrien still bound to his own duty, but Min’s absence on each mission gnaws at him like a phantom limb. Ever since the red sands of Korriban they’ve honed themselves as warriors at each other’s sides, been wielded by the Empire as two halves of a deadly blade. And he nearly lost Min before either of them ever knew they had each other’s heart.

He doesn’t need the Force to witness the emotional toll it’s had on Min, too. If not for him taking that horrific hit in his place, Cadrien would not be standing before him, and now Min must stay behind while he leaves, again and again, still not in his place beside him. The anguish roils through him fierce and murky even now.

Their greatest strength is their partnership, but their worst fear is losing it forever. A disjointed matching set of scars between his shoulder and Min’s abdomen proves that fact. But what right does Cadrien have to share his worry of him slipping through his fingers when Min carries the brunt of their predicament?

“I did miss you,” Cadrien tries anyway, pushing through if only because Min asked, and he had given up withholding himself from him somewhere in that alleyway in a pool of his blood. “Always do.”

A brief pause follows as Min absorbs the underlying frustration in his tone before he releases a breath. “Did anything happen?”

“Nothing that I couldn’t handle.”

“I should be there with you,” Min laments.

“Soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

“Soon,” Cadrien repeats, more fervently this time, reaching for his left hand. As he expects, Min flinches ever so slightly before allowing him to take it. He brushes his thumb over the back of it, across the healing joints beneath it, as gentle as he possibly can. “And then you’ll be back to talking my ear off mid-mission again.”

A shaky laugh escapes Min as he leans against his shoulder in turn. “Someone has to keep you occupied so you don’t get stuck in your head. Might as well be my mouth.”

“Min—” Cadrien sighs, but he can’t quite stop the quirk of his lips pulling into a smirk. “You’re a menace.”

“Still missed me, though.”

“Always.”

Leaning close to brush his lips against Min’s once more, Cadrien tries to will away their worries, at least for the moment. Nothing may change how difficult things are and there might be no immediate answers or solutions that he can think of right now, but they have come this far together. He doesn’t let go of Min’s hand.

[nullcanary]

songfic tag game!

Thank you @lamortwrites for the tag!

tagging: @fenharael @wraith-caller @no-braincells-inc @nnairdav if you feel like playing! If you want to join in, go ahead and tag me :)

Pick a song to accompany each of your fics or as many as you like. This might be the fic's inspiration or just pure vibes that you'd like to share with readers. Tag as many people as fics you feature (or do as you please!)

took me a moment to get to this, but it's been on my mind since you tagged me! while I've only publically posted one of my fics, I've still got several in my WIPs folder that I'm polishing up to post one of these days. I love finding a new song, listening to it on repeat, and diving into an hours long writing spiral.

The Night House (bg3, gortash/durge, explicit, dominate person/throat fingering/blood pacts, m/m, 4.9k)

title: Paranoic Intervals/Body Dysmorphia by Of Montreal

Counting wolves in your paranoiac intervals

Nobody's leaving, nobody is off the beat

You shouldn't try to unpeel my Pavlovian bells

You should be fucking with no one else

Anyone but me is an antipathy

Anyone but me is just your enemy

Only I see you the way you want to see yourself

You should be fucking with no one else

[bonus song]

title: Up To No Good by The Hoosiers

Don't get too comfortable with the man who has no history

Shadows climbing walls hide cracks we don't want other eyes to see

You tell me to shut my mouth, you love the mystery

So he tells you love you now?

Driving you crazy how

Fingers on lips, allow his hands on your hips

You know you shouldn't do this

But there's no turning back

Doctor's Orders (dos2, loshe/doctor|adramahlihk, explicit, possession/masturbation, m/f, 1.9k)

title: Mx. Sinister by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Oh you never seem to notice

That my heart beats for you

So I'll open you up

And make yours beat for me too

And I'll get you yet

I've got to make you mine

Worst Impressions (elden ring, varré/tarnished, explicit, gore/torture/drugging, m/f, 2.8k)

title: Flip by Glass Animals

Here's to the one with the smoking stare

Running through my head with a bolo knife

Chopping up the threads made up from looms

Of love and blood and hate and some empty tunes

Mechanics of Affection (bg3, dark urge/gortash look-a-like, explicit, vivisection/masturbation/crisis of faith, m/f, 2.5k)

title: Mongrel Heart by Broken Bells

Would it be wrong

To clamp down on your racing heart, Love?

And if they'd known, what sifted down to be found out?

It's not what you deserve

Love is turning you out

Sliding worry round

I try to warn its waiting game

To bring that specter down

Letter to an Old Friend (bg3, gortash/durge, angst/reunions/memory loss, 1.5k)

title: The Opposite of Loneliness by foyer

I can tell you all the ways that it goes wrong

I can fill you in on everything since you've been gone

Hold your shadow next to mine the shape that you outgrew.

Bootlicker (bg3, tav/gortash, explicit, bootlicking/desk sex/dubcon, m/f, 3.6k)

title: Hatefuck by The Bravery

What would they say now if they saw you in this place?

Naked and breathless, could you live with this disgrace?

Could you live? Could you live? Could you live with this?

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness

When the Coat Drops (bg3, gortash/durge, angst/loss/emotional breakdowns, 2.9k)

title: Through Me (The Flood) by Hozier

The unemployment of the mouth

The waking up, having forgotten

And remembering again the full extent

Of what forever is

With each grave

I think of loss and I can only think of you

I couldn't measure it

The Black Hound (bg3, gortash/durge, explicit, a/b/o, knotting/praise kink, m/m, 3.5k)

[ this song is so goddamn hot and I will apply it to every ship forever until the end of time end tweet]

title: Fever Moon by Kevin Devine

You're quick sand

And every morning say I won't get stuck again

I work and fight but just sink deeper in the end

But by nightfall baby here I always am

I tie myself in knots

You come and shake me loose

I'm bound up in you

We push til you're through

Lit up with the proof

[ssozo]

Perhaps from the drabble prompts "alone + reunion" for Jack?

helios was a shattered wreck amongst him.

as eddie picked through the shards of broken glass and twisted metal, the corpses of hyperion workers tossed like ragdolls amidst the pandoran sand, all he could think was thank god jack wasn't alive to see this.

the sun was rising, slowly but surely, and as he surveyed the ruins of an empire he never wanted, eddie recalled exactly what had led to his downfall.

<-->

"youre shorter than i remember, jack." eddie has one hand threaded through rhys's hair, his gun pointed towards the man's temple, finger resting on the trigger, and the threat is there. sure, jack is in helios now. but without rhys he has no body to take over.

"what, the giant closeup doesnt do it for ya, kitten?"

the finger tightens over the trigger and rhys whimpers.

jack continues, as if oblivious to the danger. he's not.

"i'm surprised how little you've redecorated the place- didnt you always complain about my decor?"

eddie's face betrays no emotion save for a slight tightening in the brows. unreadable to all but the ai studying him.

"do you know how hard it's been running this place?"

"uh, yeah, i was-"

"not just as a company. everyone expects me to be just *like* you, jack. just as cunning and smart and vicious. and i *am.* but im also so, so tired. do you know how hard it is trying to match your shadow, when all i did before was hide in it?"

jack smirks. "then let me back in, baby. we can go right back to how we were, i promise ya. just let the kid go."

the façade falls, and even rhys can read the tiredness etched into every feature of eddie's face. he doesn't notice rhys reach for his stun baton. jack says nothing as he aims for eddie's temple, knocking the smaller man out in one heavy blow.

<-->

eddie wakes in the wreckage of jack's office, curled up underneath his desk. the first thing he does is reach for his echo device and check the time- he's been unconscious for almost two days.

the second thing he does is survey his body for injuries. beyond the throbbing pain where that code monkey had whacked him, and the bruises and thumps one could associate with falling from fucking space, he was miraculously unharmed.

the third, final, and perhaps most important thing he does, is stand on two wobbly legs and begin his march further into the desert.

let someone else clean this mess. let someone else take care of hyperion from now on. there was nothing for him here.

[she-ismysun]

Starting 9-1-1 6x10 live blog thread (literally updating and editing the post as I watch)

I heard it’s gonna be a doozy :’) crazy start already.. bro got struck by lightning on the beach and then the sand turned into glass

Last episode, I usually don’t like the Halloween gimmick but the rest of the plot was great. Love how chimney and lucy get a house/apt the same way. After a supposed crime happened haha

Hen struggling with Denny’s curiosity about his bio parents. Him hitting them with the “I don’t need another mom” which seems like a nice wrap up and then he goes and finds his bio dad (who knows what kind of issues are gonna come up now)

Also Bobby is plotting something. I’m nervous. He is. Scheming.

—

OKAY 6x09 recap done. Onto new ep

Holy shit?? The Buckley parents AND Albert :D this is gonna be so awesome (dramatic and tense)

—

hdjdksk Evan!!! HOWIE. THE first name calling is CRAZY - shout out to Jee-yun for bringing the peace

THE SCREAMNI JUST ACRUMPT. HOWARD’S PARENTS??? Oh Albert you can’t just DO that. I literally didn’t know how tf they were gonna shake it up this family reunion

—

Does.. does hen not know that Denny went to see his dad?

Albert!!! Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission tch

—

DHJDSN. ATHENA AND MAY SCHEMING WITH BOBBY!!!

—

Oh my GOD?. WHAT IS UP WITH THE BUCKLEY PARENTS. being so eerily optimistic and nice?? Not just with Maddie but not with BUCK?

Baby Jee Yun is just the magic juice .. she makes everyone happy

—

God this rain is making me REALLY nervous

—

FUCK OF COURSE. OF COURSE BUCK GETS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING. Now it’s EDDIE’S TURN to scream for buck’s lifeless body desperately.

someone needs to stitch together these parallels for me. Every time Buck screams and runs after Eddie desperately thinking he’s dead

Eddie being the driver to take him to the hospital is correct . Onto 6x11!

[tothedarkdarkseas]

Maybe 3, even though Seething Coast already has elements of it, just because I like the song. Amarillo is a great song, but it's already been written about in the most direct way possible in Seething Coast.

#3, as you must've seen, is Pacifico by Ugly Casanova. I really appreciate that you see elements of it in Seething Coast; actually, at points in the story I had the draft titled both The Pacific to be Specific (after an AJJ song, amusing but scrapped early) and Pacifico (fitting in both lyrical content and a snappy title) before settling on Seething Coast. It'd had too major of an impact on the plot ("plot," I say, of the grim scenes strung together by threads of daylight through closed blinds) for me to go any other way in the end, but I'd always intended for the final scene to take place on the beach and for the Pacific to feel like something with great presence, and in many ways I don't think anything captures the person Stuart is shifting into being better than Pacifico.

(PS: Thank you for thinking of Amarillo as well. I don't in fact know what I'd do differently with it if I had to, but it has grown on me immensely in the past two years. Regardless of whether I think it speaks the most meaningfully to Stuart on the album or not, and I'm not sure that it does, I do think it's an extremely well put-together song. I think I'd rank Amarillo in my top 5 Gorillaz picks now.)

...So having said all that, it is challenging to approach Pacifico in a way that is fundamentally different from Seething Coast or from things discussed on this blog. (I'm sorry, I'm sure this ask game is meant to invite new plotlines but my music taste really goes hand in hand with the themes I've already beaten into the ground, haha.) For me, I think it would have to be "what comes next"-- the hiatus, or perhaps a single year's worth of it, between the split that follows the tour and their eventual reunion for Humanz. The moments of disbanding would be told through memories, I'm imagining, spotting Stuart's life post-fame, the places he can't return to, the peace he isn't finding. The days of isolation and escapism would be less turbulent, but the anger well-worn in, now fitting to the contours of his feet like glass crushed to sand. There would be a sense of acceptance, pervasive but not celebrated; it is blunt-edged, but that is because we've stood by as it sawed through bone and left him half of who was before, and two halves less than who he should've been. No more America, not again until Detroit. No more England, because every Stuart cut from the edges of heart and lung has grown into another living body there, and they all know him from the windmill on the telly, praising his great heights in envy while shrinking a box around him like veal. I don't think it would necessarily cover the latter half of the split and the decision to return, the resignation to it, the knowing of a need he's been saddled with like an addict; I think to honor the song properly it would need to stay on the path of Stu surviving where the ideal Stus at last wither, and the singular Him, the Him who has never been alone inside himself, becoming the steel-spined and knife-toothed Stuart who will, on a day of no great meaning following many hundreds of days of no great meaning, go back. That's what I'm spitballing here anyway, haha. Maybe not distinct enough of a story to warrant existing, but that's where I am pulled for the time being.

[jehannandancer]

» reunions in the sand

@knollandvoid, continued from here:

🥂 "This is a surprise-- it's been some time. It's Knoll, correct?" Tethys smiles at the mage and extends a coconut, complete with a small umbrella and a fruit toothpick. It's been some time since she's seen him, and while not close, she considers her comrades at arms from Magvel as important people in her lives. "Sit down with me, have a drink. The coconuts here are amazing."

Knoll turns to look backwards from where he stands on a rocky outcropping overlooking the sea, confused by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice. He wishes for a split second that they had met again in some other place. His robes really aren’t made for places like this, all the water makes the wet sand stick to his clothes where they brush the ground, and that has him feeling more than a little embarrassed to be seen by an old comrade in such a state. Then he remembers, he couldn’t be on a beach, certainly not with Tethys. He’s left for Garreg Mach, his allies from Magvel are probably all back home. This must be a dream, he’s just exhausted from the travel and imagining an old acquaintance. Still, there’s no harm in indulging the fantasy of being with a familiar face again.

He awkwardly stumbles towards the dancer, removing his hood as he goes before reaching out and taking a coconut from her. “I’m sorry for taking so long, I was,” he trails off, “lost in thought. It’s good to see you again Tethys, I haven’t got to share a drink with anyone from home for too long.”

Tethys simply shakes her head in understanding, not minding the initial silence from the man. It’s her that appeared out of the blue, with a drink that was meant for someone else, but she soon forgot who it was originally for. To share it with a former comrade, felt right, if not fitting.

“Staring at the sea does that to you. You don’t have to apologize for reflecting. Besides... It’s the perfect view to drink to.” Tethys stands by him and looks out at the sea herself, a gentle, cool breeze passing by them, strands of scarlet swept along, her bangles lightly jiggling. It was a peaceful day. A welcomed change, but its still... conflicting for the dancer.

She takes a small sip from her drink, eyes fixated on the never-ending blue in front of her.She wonders briefly if this was just a very long dream if not or the distinct memories from the previous battle. Some people that she hasn’t seen before, or hasn’t seen in years popped up all of a sudden too, like Knoll. Was he at the monastery too? She can’t seem to remember, some parts of her brain muddled up and incredibly hazy. 

She turns to the mage this time around, curious of his own worries. “So what plagues your mind, Knoll? Surely it’s not troubles from home?”

[ggukkieland]

📚BTS Fic Reads - 2021 January Pt 2

*Fics are not mine. Credits go to all the writers. Please show them love by reblogging and/or commenting on their work 🥰. 

Note: if link doesn’t work, click on author and go to their masterlist

🥕Ongoing - most recent chapter [as of date this list was posted] 🥕Completed - completed one shots | series 🌹 S - smut | F - fluff | A - angst 🌷 with reaction/commentary (if reading reactions help)

PART 1  (most of the fics were part of my Dec reads but I opted to post my favorite holiday-themed fics instead to match the 🎄☃️❄️🎄mood)

🥕[Ongoing Series]

Bad Influence Collection @noteguk - JJK | 16.1k (so far) | Bad Boy AU, Good Girl AU, Enemies to Lovers, FWB AU | S, slight A, slight F ~ [2/?] + [2 Drabbles] 

Bad Influence 🌷

Bad Behavior

Drabbles [2/?] 

Before You @ephemeralkookie - JJK | 21k (so far) | Tattooed!JK, Friends to Lovers, Parents AU | F, S, A

Original Story 🌷

Other stories in the Before You Universe

Countermelody @bonvoyagenoona  - MYG | 54.8k |  Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Producer AU, Music AU | F, S, A ~ [3/5]

Dissonance

Tuning

Syncopation

Don’t Hold Your Breath @ilikemesometaetaes - JJK | 32.3k | CEO!reader, Rockstar AU, Exes AU | A, S, F ~ [6/10] 

Driving Me Wild @koorara - JJK |  13.2k | followed roommate demon Jungkook to hell, Demon AU, Soulmate AU, Roommate AU  | F ~ [3/? + 1/? Drabble]  (this is really cute 🥰) 

01 02 03  🌷

Halloween Special

In the Middle @taetemae - JJK x Reader x MYG | 7.6k | Love Triangle AU, Unrequited Love AU | A, S [1/3] 

Little Mouse @jjungkookislife - JJK | 19k | Established Relationship, College AU, Frat Boy AU, College AU | F, S, slight A ~ [8/?] 

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 

Christmas Special

Valentine’s Day

Maybe I Do @jiminssthetic - KTH | 96k | CEO AU, Arranged Marriage AU, Strangers to Lovers | A, F, S ~ [6/11] 

My Tears Ricochet Drabble Series @augustbutwinter - KTH | 1.9k | Ghost AU, Roommate AU | F, A ~ [2/12]

Pearls & Poinsettias @chillingkoo - JHS | 12k | CEO AU, Escort AU, Christmas AU | S, F ~ [2/3] 

01 02

Still reading ongoing series from previous reading lists, whenever there is an update 😊

🥕[Completed Fics/Series]

Namjoon

Asmodeus @jingabitch - one shot | 3.6k | Demon AU, Witch!Reader - While trying to summon a demon, you have an encounter with Namjoon | S  (I love this! spooky yet 🔥) 🌷

Friction @bangtanbetchfics - series | 27.5k | Rivals, Enemies to Lovers, CEO AU, feat matchmaker assistants VMIN | S, F ~ [4/4] 

01 02 03 04

Seokjin

Aubade @junghelioseok - one shot | 9.9k | One Night Stand AU, Snowed In | S 🌷

Mea Culpa @jinned -  one shot | 16.9k | Warlock AU, demon realm | S, F, A

That Famous Happy Ending @jinpanman - drabble | 2.3k | Royalty AU, Enchanted AU, Seokjin as Prince Edward | F

Uptown Girl @moononthejoon - one shot |  16.4k | part of the Playlist series, Bodyguard AU, Royalty AU, Enemies to Lovers | F, S

Yoongi

a love that endures @cinnaminsvga - one shot | 14.4k | High School Reunion AU, Exes to Lovers |  F, minor A

Eargasm  @lavishedinjimin - one shot |  9.5k | Phone Sex AU, Sex Hotline AU | S  🌷 (a re-read; imagine yoongi’s honey voice 🥵💦)

Untitled  @bxebxee - drabble | 1.8k | exes(?), “Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years” | A, S (this is good, can’t believe it’s only 1.8k felt like a lot happened) 🌷

Hoseok 

A Court of Curses @readyplayerhobi - one shot | Vampire Prince x Witch!Reader, Arranged Marriage AU | S, A, F 🌷

Sometimes I Don’t Like Being Last On Your List @honeytae - one shot | 3.2k | Established Relationship, Slice of Life, arguments | A, F

The Compromise @chim-chimmie  - one shot | 12.8k | Enemies to Lovers, kind of Fuckboy AU | A, S, F

Jimin

Could Have Been You @ressjeon - drabble | 832 | bickering exes | A but in a cute way? 😁 (author considering turning it into one shot so here’s my vote 💕)

For Whom the Bell Tolls @softyoongiionly - one shot | 8k | Fantasy AU, Mythology AU, Demi-god AU | A, F, S 🌷

Remedy for Mondays @dovechim​ - series | 41.9k | Co-worker AU, Fake Pregnancy AU (lol), Fake Dating AU, fake baby daddy 😅 | F, A, S (actually a re-read because I miss HR Namjoon 🥰)

01 02 03 04

Try Me @jjkxla - series | 11k | Gang AU, Neighbor AU | A, S ~ [4/4] (I read this on AO3 but it’s also on tumblr 🥰)

Prologue 01 02 03

Taehyung

Boy With Luv by ephemeralkookie - one shot | 11.6k | Idol AU, established relationship, healing/comfort fic, Slice of Life | F, S 

Get You The Moon @bymoonchild - one shot | 19.6k | Enemies to Lovers, College AU, Football AU, Jock!Taehyung, Student Reporter!OC | A, F, S 🌷 (a re-read🥰)

Kismesis @sincerelyourfangirl - one shot | 7.1k | Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating for free cakes, Holiday AU | F 🌷

Tease @caiuscassiuss - one shot | 13k | Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Enemies to Lovers | S, F

Jungkook

The Accountant @avveh - one shot | 3.4k | Idol AU, hired to relieve his stress 😉 | S, PWP 

After Hours @zibermuda - one shot | 4k | CEO AU, Assistant!OC | S, F 🌷

Anpanman 🌷 @honeymoonjin - one shot | 6.6k |  part of the love yourself collab, Bestfriends AU, Fake Dating to get cheaper therapy lol 😅 | S, F, A 🌷

A Scum’s Wish @bobagukk - one shot | 4.3k | based on the anime of same title, FWB AU, Rebound(?) AU, Unrequited AU (they’re in love with other people) | A, slight S 

Beast by ephemeralkookie - one shot | 4.1k | established relationship, jealous Kook | S, A, F

Begin Again @jinings - one shot | 10.4k | Single Dad AU, Blended!AU (like the movie), Vacation AU, teacher!reader | F, S, A 🌷

Canceled by zibermuda - one shot (but writer said there’ll be pt2?) | 6.4k | Blogger AU | S 🌷

The Dark Prince @jkeuphoriadreamland - series | 44.1k | Curse AU, Royalty AU, Yandere themes | A, S ~ [8/8] (😥 poor prince Koo)

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Daydreams @voidswan - drabble | 1.3k | Jungkook has dreams about a woman he had never ever seen in his life | S 🌷

Deep Six @bratkook - two shot | 40.3k | (rival) Gang AU, infidelity/forbidden love, action | A, S, F ~ [2/2] 🌷

01 02

Delete Voicemail? feat Taehyung @evangelene - one shot | 5k | Exes AU, Established Relationship, it’s just 😭 | 🌷

Fierce & Delicate + Felicity @mintseesaw - two shot | 22.4k Established Relationship, Husband AU, her parents don’t approve | A, F, S ~ [2/2] 🌷

Heated @whatifyoulivelikethat- one shot | 5.8k | Bestfriends AU, dom-sub conversation that led to more 😉 | S, A 🌷

Is Your Refrigerator Running? @joheun-saram - one shot | 4.2k | Fratboy AU, College AU, prank calls | F, humor 🌷

It Takes Two @suqakoo - one shot | 21.1k | Soulmate AU, CEO AU, fashion designer!reader, Spring AU | A, F, S 🌷 (actually a re-read, author accidentally deleted her fics) ⭐one of my ultimate favorites⭐

A Little Sand Never Hurt Anyone @mimikookie - one shot | 12.5k | bestfriends to lovers, friends celebrating 10 years of friendship | S, F (read this on AO3 before 🤔)

Love You, Crazy @vinterjeon - one shot | 3.1k | established relationship, LDR | F, S

The Masked Stranger @nottojay - one shot | 2.9k | Friends to Lovers, One Night Stand (sort of), Masquerade AU | S, F 🌷

Night Apple is Poison Apple @helvonasche - series | 30.5k | OC came back to town, childhood acquaintances turned FWB AU | S, A, F ~ [10/10]

Strings Attached  by ephemeralkookie - one shot | 4.4k | Idol AU, Friends to Lovers, FWB AU | S, F

Sorry + I’m Not Sorry by bxebee - drabbles | 4k | ex-classmates, ex-bully!JK, prosecutor!reader, Reunion AU | S, A, F   🌷

A Touch of Fate by yoonia - one shot | 9.2k | follow up to We Are All Dreamers, soulmate AU, ex-E2L, Neighbors AU, Established Relationship | F, S 🌷

You Are Mine @deathbyyoongi - one shot | 8.2k | College AU, sort of Enemies to Lovers, popular!JK, jealous Koo | S, A 🌷

Youngblood by jinned - one shot | 14.6k | Enemies to Lovers, Journalist!OC, Rockstar AU | S 🌷 (had to read it again, I just noticed the new banner 🥰)

Multi

love triangles, here we go 💔💔💔

🌹 Namjoon x Reader x Yoongi

Egotistic @pasteljeon - one shot | 4.4k | Childhood Friends AU, College AU, FWB AU | S, A, F 

Threads @yoonia - one shot | 7.2k | Slice of Life, One-sided Love AU, Infidelity AU | S, A, F

🌹  Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Heartbeat @xbaepsae -  two-shot |  24.9k | Musician AU, Unrequited Love AU, Friends to Lovers, Love Triangle AU | A, S, F ~ [2/2] (💔 my heart)

01 02

🥕 posted: 2021 Jan 28 🥕 link to other reading lists  🌹 I love to read so feel free to recommend a fic =)

[tooktheladdedgbtq]

....and the Oscar goes to.. | Tom Holland X Male!actor reader. 

A/N: this was just something I wrote because I got inspired I guess. Happy Pride everyone!

——————————————

You couldn’t decide whether time was slipping through your fingers too quickly or if this had been the longest night you’d ever experienced.

seconds slowed to a crawl while you tried to gather yourself before it was your turn to take the stage. You were nervous. Not about being at the oscars or presenting for the first time. Not even about being nominated for your leading role in the second installment of a critically acclaimed trilogy. No, you’d been used to these sorts of things, you’d been an actor since you were a very young kid. Starting on television before film, and you even got to hold the Emmy the show had won when you had just turned a teenager.

No, you were nervous about who exactly you’d be presenting to. Of the five nominees and potential winners, only one could cause such an intensive feeling in your chest. Only one could awaken a sense of dread that battled with a feeling of intensive happiness mixed with anticipation, and it was Tom.

You’d known each other for years and had come to fall in love. You’d met as young co-stars on set and eventually grew into an inseparable friendship that progressed into something far more. Neither of you were sure when the feelings started but it felt like they’d always been there and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Your blissfulness with Tom was beautiful but short lived. After almost a year of being official you both agreed to take a break from the relationship. Unbeknownst to Tom you were just agreeing to save face and hadn’t pried for an answer out of fear of being hurt. You just accepted that this was how things were now, and took a step back.

You’d still kept in contact with him. It was hard not to. He was still your best friend. But whether it was the business of work or something a little more awkward, distance grew between you both as the multi-hour long facetime calls and text threads became once-a-week check-ins to just make sure you were alive and okay.

Time had passed, and you didn’t have a clue what you could possibly say to him now. You certainly didn’t want to ruin his special night. But you’d missed him so much and felt like you would implode at the first sign that he’d be interested in getting back together with you. But you also didn’t want to seem desperate or needy if he’d moved on. You didn’t want to slip and say those three words again in the moment.

Father time showed you no mercy as the sand in his hourglass suddenly shifted from a slow-motion drip to a flood. The seconds you’d spent daydreaming of your past with Tom and pondering about the your potential future had passed and left you with little time to gather yourself before presenting. still you shook your hands, arms, and lastly shoulders, putting all your worries aside and waited for introduction from the host.

Before long you’d been counted in to walking on stage, and heard the host over the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, to present the award and introduce the nominees for Best Supporting Actor, please welcome one of this year’s nominees and one of our generation’s greatest talents: Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The applause erupts from the audience like a revved up engine as you took center but it was nothing compared to the standing ovation you’d receive later on that night when receiving your own award for Best Actor.

You were stood promptly center staged with the towering Oscar statue reflecting onto the black stage floor beneath your feet. Your outfit was alluring and would surely be the next hot topic which is rare for male stars. You looked like a million bucks. Everyone knew it, most of all, Tom.

You smile and wave as you approach the microphone, your teeth shining a blinding white, and wait for a hush from the crowd.

You chuckle lightly as a few hoots and hollers sound out as the cheers subside.

You eye the monitor across the room and start to read, your nerves dying down as your jokes land and laughter echoes around the room.

As you finish the introduction, clips start to show behind you to accompany the names of the nominees as the cameras catch a glimpse of each of their reactions.

You couldn’t help but notice how tough the competition was as each actor was called. Steven Yuen playing a detective in a thrilling murder mystery. John David Washington in a fictional film playing the world’s first black astronaut aiding in the discovery of lovecraftian horrors. Andrew Garfield for his role as a psychotic narcissist and genius businessman. Oscar Issac acting in a sci fi space opera asking questions of existentialism.

Finally, you had to withhold your smile as you called out the last name. He had returned to his Billy Elliot roots being nominated for his role in a astonishing musical romance film. “Tom Holland.” You’d been ecstatic when he’d told you about it as you’d always recommend he tried it again since it made him so happy in his younger years.

You spot him a few rows from the stage, making eye contact with him and wondering if he was thinking about you the way you had done with him earlier. You couldn’t help but notice him squirming in his chair and fidgeting with his hands. Selfishly asking yourself if this wasn’t just about the award but about having you present it to him.

Seeing you here after what felt like an eternity apart and your reunion potentially being the greatest achievement of both your careers. Making it the greatest night of your lives, that is, if you were still together. But you were still best friends. That’s what mattered. So you push your self centered thoughts aside and shoot him a small wave that he returns with a smile and thumbs up. letting you know he was okay and that you could continue as the camera pans back to you capturing your not so hidden giddiness.

This awarded some small oos and aahs from the crowd as your relationship with him had been a wholly celebrated one. especially among your marvel peers.

You’re handed an envelope and statue as the music ends and the applause dies down and you take one final glare into the camera before beginning to open the envelope.

“....and the Oscar goes to,” you take a peek at the crowd and see some of the nominees holding hands with loved ones. others plainly

awaiting your next words with bated breath. The anticipation shone on everyone’s faces. Even those that weren’t nominated. Your not-so-hidden grin giving away the answer mere milliseconds before his name escaped your lips. “Tom Holland!”

Tom shot up with a shared expression of shock and happiness on his face. Pecking his mother on the cheek as she wipes the tears of pride from her eyes. His best mate Harrison gives him a quick embrace and a pat on the back before he moves on to shake hands with the director and smile at everyone cheering him on as he gradually moves toward the stage still completely baffled at the victory.

As he walks towards you in his pink pastel colored suit and brown leather dress shoes you can’t help but swell with an overwhelming feeling of joy having been here to share this career defining moment with him. You thought about how far you’d both come to get here and almost started tearing up remembering all you’d been through together.

He skipped up the miniature steps and blanketed you with both arms. You didn’t want it to end as you hadn’t felt it in a while. You threw your arms around his neck and he tightens his hold around your torso. Before you could even process them, your blunt thoughts spill out as whispers.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you. you deserve this and so much more.” you hear a small chuckle escape him as he responds. “I am trying not to cry y’know mate?” a wolf whistle comes from the crowd as you apologize for being so sappy and before he can tell you off for it you hand him his award and shove him off toward the microphone.

As he takes center stage you stand off to the side to watch him give his acceptance speech. He pauses and takes a second to gather himself before he starts talking straight from his heart with nothing prepared.

“Um, Wow. I really can’t believe this is really happening and I probably still won’t believe it happened tomorrow. Just.. wow.” his words were filled with that charmingly British accent you’d come to love so much.

“First I would like to thank my mother, without whom of course, I would not be here. I would like to thank the academy and everyone who worked on this movie from the producers and camera men, make-up and costumes, to our wonderful writers, composer, back up dancers and vocalists, and of course my friends, my co-star and the director Damien Chazelle.” whom he gestures to sitting in the second row. “I share this with all of you and I can’t thank you enough for awarding me with the opportunity to create something I love so much.”

He thanks the other nominees before turns towards you to end his speech. you felt your heart in your hands when you saw his big brown puppy eyes dart in your direction with an intensive glare of admiration.

“last but most importantly, I want to thank the inspiration for all of the love songs I sung in the film and the reason I decided to take the role. The person standing here on my right.”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen when his words hit you like a speeding semi. you realize that he’d just called you his muse in so many words. the inspiration behind the love songs in the film no less. Meaning that with every lovestruck note his character sung he was reminded of you. All that time spent worrying if the distance between you two would cause him to forget about you, or if he’d maybe moved on and found somebody else. But no such thing had happened. He was relating his character’s longing in the film to his longing for you this entire time and that made your heart do a backflip.

You blush and cover your still ajar mouth with your fist whilst trying not to pay attention to the crowd who’s attention was fully focused on you.

He takes a deep sigh before continuing. “Y/N you’re not only the reason I took this role, but you’re the reason I was able to play it with such sincerity. You’ve been a unwavering beacon of support throughout my career in general but here you really gave me the inspiration for something special. He faces the audience again as the all follow his words with whispers of how adorable you both were. “from reading lines together in the middle of the night, to keeping me company when i’m on the brink of a meltdown.” It was all true and it only made you miss you relationship more and you found it difficult to hold back your tears.

“Y/N is the kind of best friend everybody needs, the kind of partner everybody deserves, and the person I’m so incredibly lucky to have known for so long. ..and I still can’t believe he never figured out the lyrics were all about him, It was kind of obvious-” the audience laughed you’re so close to swooning as he turns toward you again. “But, with all my heart, I love you, Y/N. Always will.” you feel as if you’re floating.

He shifts to the crowd one last time to say a final thank you before you both walk off stage one arm around one another’s shoulders. You have a short but sweet conversation backstage with him where reassures you that everything he said on stage was true and completely unscripted. He wants to talk more but knows your category is coming soon so he asks for a later opportunity and you agree before returning to your seat in the crowd.

The rest of the night flew by with you winning the award for best actor and receiving the biggest applause of the night. Tom joined in the standing ovation. You thanked everybody involved in making the film, the academy, and squeezed a little joke directed towards Tom that garnered a shared laugh from both him and the audience. You were the last award of the night and after the celebrations it was time to return to your place, where Tom was waiting for you. Wanting to talk about everything that had happened not just tonight but everything leading up to it. He also hoped you’d kept a spot open in your heart for him to return to.

[inkquillery]

sideblog for fic raws and updates: @b4-the-ink-is-dry

feel free to send asks for anything at all :))

my Ao3 works masterlist, sorted by fandoms:

fandom: naruto

more than just parallel lines

~ moodboard & summary ~ jinchūriki ~ found family ~ rookie 9 shenanigans ~ team 7 as family ~ sand siblings ~ gaara & naruto & fū being triplets™ ~

fandom: fairy tail

like a page with a golden word (puts my heart to the test)

~ moodboard & summary ~ lucy & brandish & dimaria shenanigans ~ e.n.d. ~ implied annalogia ~

and god knows it’s the only way to heal now

~ moodboard & summary ~ lucy & erza sisterhood ~ missing moments throughout the series ~

five more minutes

~ moodboard & summary ~ aquarius & lucy ~ developing relationship ~ missing scenes ~ mother-daughter-ish ~ not ft-100yq compliant ~

hey lucy (i remember your name)

~ moodboard & summary ~ lumen histoire ~ ghost!lucy ~ little shit!lucy ~ team natsu as a family ~ honourable mention: peak chaotic sibling energy ft. lucy & gray ~ learning to let go ~

fandom: mcu

little lost child (what’s your damage)

~ moodboard & summary ~ mamaspider ~ natasha raised peter ~ tony & natasha coparenting ~ avengers as a family ~ harley & peter brotherhood ~ teenage shenanigans ft. peter & harley & shuri ~ picking up strays ft. wanda & pietro ~

fluctuat nec mergitur ~ a sneak peek to the series ~ {completed, posted} ~

yesterday’s sky unfolds ~ {in progress} ~

a paper-bound ledge ~ {in progress, unposted} ~

pastel storm clouds ~ {in progress, unposted} ~

in the ether ~ infinity war/endgame au, ft. characters from agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. ~ {in progress, unposted} ~

fandom: agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.

darling, close your weary eyes

~ moodboard & summary ~ maydaisy ~ nightmares ~ post-afterlife ~ taking care of self-inflicted wounds ~ staying through the night ~

when all is lost, then all is found

~ moodboard & summary ~ bio!maydaisy ~ the red room ~ kid!daisy ~ daisy & natasha sisterhood ~ trauma from both ends ~ lost and found ~

to find you ~ how their story begins ~ {completed, posted} ~

found (the answers in you) ~ in which insecurities surface but bonding allows for proper healing from trauma ~ {completed, posted} ~

the hidden cost (and the thing that’s lost) ~ an alternative take on ‘what happened in bahrain’ ~ {in progress, unposted} ~

lost in translation ~ in which hydra is eliminated by a one-girl army before they can do any real damage ~ {in progress, unposted} ~

your lie in april

~ moodboard & summary ~ maydaisy ~ philindaisy ~ teenage!skye ~ street kid!skye ~ jemma & skye & fitz & trip friendship ~ matt murdock & skye siblingship ~

beautiful girl

~ moodboard & summary ~ alternate dimension ~ dimension hopping ~ older daisy ~ maydaisy ~ post-s2 ~ kang the conqueror ~

fandom: encanto

thread by thread

~ moodboard & summary ~ 5 + 1 ~ post-casita’s fall ~ runaway!mirabel ~ reunions ~ a little crack, a lot emotions ~

a place further than the universe

~ moodboard & summary ~ bio!mamápepa ~ identity crisis ~ solidarity among the second-gen madrigals ~ teenage shenanigans ft. mirabel living her best life ~ antarctica ~

[fastwiemagie]

It's dress family reunion time!!

As I just recently finished dress number 5 using (a variant) of the same pattern I decided to show them all of in one post.

The family legacy started a couple of years ago with the dark red dress (like dried blood almost but not as brown).

It's linen with a golden glitter thread woven into it. You can cinch in the shoulder part for a sleeveless fit or leave o

It unruffled for a semblance of sleeves.

Imade it to attend a dear friend's graduation ceremony from film school. It's an overdress, with a corresponding underdress to go with it. You have to wear something underneath as it just has a slit going down the entire skirt front. I often wear a coordinating skirt with it instead of the underdress nowadays, so I can change it up.

2018 I used version B of the bodice to make myself a birthday dress. This version doesn't have the shoulder straps for gathering. The bodice has a beautiful sakura print and I made layered circle skirts for the bottom part (which are also longer in the back). I got the fabric for the skirts from a relative.

Last year I made another dress using version A (like the original dark red dress) from a beautifully machine embroidered white linen. It's thicker than the dark red linen, so that contributes to a slightly different look. I added a permanent underskirt panel in a golden sand colour. The waistband is also made from the golden sand coloured linen.

This year I created the green patchwork dress using version B. The skirt of that dress is printed fabric that only looks like patchwork and I did actual patchwork on the bodice from the fabric scraps, as I've retroactively decided to not only do a (fake) patchwork skirt but an actual patchwork dress ! The skirt part has side gadots for a bit of added interest and lace, because obviously. I also changed up the waistband of the green dress and used another method to create it, just to see the difference.

The purple & pink dress was also made in 2021, from pink linen (with golden glitter thread) and purple linen (with silver glitter thread) and a purple cotton for the underskirt. That's the same kind of linen I've used for the original red dress. This dress also started out life as a skirt (a pointy circle skirt) but I upgraded it this year into a dress. Why not change up your clothes by transforming them into something else?

And the legacy is likely to continue in the future...

[efkgirldetective]

~part III~ of this little prompt series ( part I & part II icymi )

much gratitude to @missgryffin for one prompt & the same anon as the previous prompt for the other one!! <3 absolutely TICKLED to indulge my obsession with post-traumatic injury reunions <3

pajamas + purple + panic

doodle + indigo + relief

A soft knock on the bathroom door. “Evans? Everything all right? You’ve been—oi, I’m standing here, will you—what d’you mean leave her alone, she’s—oh, come off it, Lupin, I’m just trying to be a help, honestly—”

Lily presses her forehead to cool porcelain. Focuses on one breath in; one breath out. It doesn't work. Her stomach roils, and she sicks up. Hardly anything left—but it burns just the same.

There's scuffling outside the door, voices quick and low. Lily flushes the basin and rises to the sink, avoiding her own eyes in the mirror. Swishes around mouth rinse and spits it out. Washes her hands and turns the light off and takes a backward look at her reflection, hand on the doorknob.

Her face is stark and pale and scared, even in the dim.

The door swings open to Remus and Sirius mid-argument. They fall silent; turn to her, cautious.

“I’m fine,” she says, though she doesn’t meet their eyes, either. Pulls at the sleeves of her linen blouse, at the collar; sticky with nervous sweat. Remus takes out his wand and casts a cooling charm. She closes her eyes to it and nods. “Thank you.”

“Jesus, Evans,” Sirius murmurs, his hand on her arm. She wants to pull off, turn from the touch, tell them both to piss off —but the tightness in her throat intensifies, the pit in her stomach glomming like a rock. She loses footing, body asway; Sirius catches her elbow and pulls her forward, into the crook of his shoulder.

Lily takes a long, painful breath.

That morning she woke from fitful sleep to disorientation; pain; loneliness; panic. Remembering James, a room away, deep in spelled sleep. Remembering, disjointedly, the tossed-off owl from St. Mungo’s: ...three weeks lapsed...tri-monthly Contraceptive Charm...would you care to reschedule your appointment?

The bleary eyes, the dry throat, the: This can’t be right—

I never forget—

I never forget.

The problem with war is the blur. The carousel of unease, its unremitting haze; the constant, constant disruption. The this is not my time anymore. The my time belongs to war.

Lily feels sick again, suddenly, tucked in Sirius’ shoulder. It’s not the right time. This isn’t our time.

Remus puts a steady palm on her back, as if he can feel her tremble. Voice low, “there’s something else, isn’t there?”

She raises her head—and how clearly he seems to see her. His hair is overgrown; the color of sand wet with sea. All those narrow silver scars. She tries to say his name but nothing comes out, and besides that there’s another voice, round the corner of the hall:

“Lads? He’s awake—oh, shit, Lils, he's up, he's—”

“He’s awake?” Sirius interrupts, disbelieving.

Peter looks drained, nodding. “Awake.”

Remus urges Lily, palm on back—but it's Sirius she looks to, now. The skin beneath his eyes made into translucent half-moons. “We’ll be just on—you go.”

She pauses one more half a second, then goes. Feels a tremor overtaking. Rushing so quickly she nearly smacks into Mags, exiting. The door cracked an inch. “Be gentle, yeah? It’s fragile. But—a day or so of rest, he’s good as fine.”

“Maggie,” Lily breathes, tunneling the woman into her arms. Gripping like she doesn’t know how hard she holds. Entrenched in gratitude—for her, for him; maybe, for a third. “Thank you.”

“All in time, Evans,” Mags says gruffly, pulling back, bristling. “All in time.”

Lily steps in slowly, squinting at the brightness. Someone has opened the shades and the room is light with midday. In the center, in their bed, pillowed upright by cushions and sheets, blanketed in the purple quilt her mother made for them—James sitting up, open-eyed.

Lily inhales deeply and blinks to be sure that it’s right; that it’s real. Amid such a downy pile he looks younger. But his eyes are blaring gold, glasses un-cracked—and he’s breathing.

“Hi,” he says, quietly, sheepishly. Someone put him in pajamas. The green-and-white striped collared shirt buttoned unevenly, off by one looped hole.

At such a little thing, the pulp of Lily's heart gives a definitive jolt.

She stumbles. Slows; remembers Mags saying fragile. Looks down to his leg, bandaged and glowing the deep indigo of stasis charms. Her throat locks and she remembers the morning; her hapless nerves. Turns her head out of necessity, eyes landing on the bedside table, the little framed sketch of her own profile—doodled by James in the back of seventh-year Charms.

She turns back and finds him apprehensive, chewing at his lower lip, as if she’s the one that should be handled carefully. As if he didn’t fall to his knees and nearly leave her for good. “Hi,” she tries—and it really almost works, if it weren’t for the cracking, midway, for the way his arm falls down onto the bed, palm up, open, reaching, for the way he breathes out—

“Lils.”

She goes to him. Feels the palm, carefully, with her own—and skin so familiar, and finally warm, and dear, fingers latching onto hers, that she folds forward at the waist, unable to stop, face pressed wholly to the bend of his arm. Mouthing at the skin, desperate to prove he is solid; prove he is whole. “I’m sorry.”

“No, love, no,” he murmurs, and he’s threading a hand through her hair, urging her face upward, till she finds herself facing the uneven buttons—a detail still so tender that it breaks her over again. Reaching out to touch any reachable part; the other elbow, the good leg, the hollow space between collarbones.

“Come on,” he says, so earnestly.

“Don’t you—” she cuts her head to the side and suddenly exhaustion crashes over her; the night of poor sleep, the morning so blue with sickness and owl and abrupt, unwelcome truth. “Don’t you go and pull that shit ever again, Potter, you can’t just—” His hand stroking up through her hair, his hand cradling her jaw. “I won’t live without you.” And it’s irrational and true. His thumb across her lips. “You arsehole,” she adds, though she’s crying—though the sentiment is real—though her lungs are crying out for air.

“Rather selfish of me to nearly die, I realize," his mouth quirking minutely, a smirk so gentle and so Jameslike it pains. “And I apologize, I really do, from the bottom of my heart.”

“Honestly,” she laughs, cut through at once with pain and a flood of gentle levity, his eyes so bright and healthy; the sweet flopping of dark hair over forehead. “Honestly.”

His throat moves. There’s no time to tell him—not the right time—others wanting reunions, wanting confirmation he’s awake. But his face so open and honest. “We’ll be okay,” he says, always quick to ground, to hold steady; to carry her face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, words gone out. Kisses him on the cheek, on the other. “Stay with me,” she begs. Implores. “I love you, stay with me.”

His brow creased in a tender pull. Breath shallow and warm when their lips meet between, pulling her out of herself. Everything will wait. Relief is like a river; long, slow, and plenty.

[doodledraw]

Return (Of What Was Cherished)

Cody crash lands on Tatooine. He doesn't really know why, but there's nothing left for him in the Empire. Little did he know there's a lot waiting for him this far out in the Outer Rim.

(thanks @katanrocksketches​ for the title idea!! and for being my sounding board ily)

Today for @commandercodyweek​ I decided to write a fic I’ve been wanting to try my hand at for a while!! Post-Order 66 reunions are just...the BEST so here’s my shot at it!

Read on AO3 here! Or under the cut!

He didn't know who he was. He didn't know what he was doing. All he knew was that it was kriffing hot and it had been over 24 hours since he had crossed paths with another being. Granted, 12 of those hours had been in space and then another 5 had been spent unconscious in the desert, slowly baking under the hot suns. Most of his armor had quickly been removed and fastened to a small sled using a piece of debris from his now absolutely trashed ship. Dragging that along, he began to wander the desert (it was just his luck he managed to land as far away from civilization as possible).

After two hours, he felt like he was going in circles.

After three, he spotted a ridge in the distance and started to make his way towards it.

After four, the ridge was still firmly in the distance and he was starting to think it was a mirage and that he was going to die out in the middle of nowhere.

He never realized that he was thinking clearer and more him than he had been for the last five years, like taking a breath after being underwater.

He finally reached the ridge on hour six and allowed himself a small rest. Clones were built for endurance but not for invulnerability. Besides, he needed to tend his wounds and the shelter he had found was the most he was going to get.

It was only once he'd stopped that his brain, no longer preoccupied with moving his legs through the rapidly shifting sands, caught up to his situation. That was when the panic set in. He was all alone, on a planet that very well could be the death of him, and yet at the same time he was feeling more alive than he had in a good long time.

After he gave himself a moment to panic, the rational part of his brain kicked in and he looked through the pockets on his toolbelt to see what he had with him.

Unfortunately, his black armor did nothing to help him from the heat of the suns, and he curses his competency for that. Why couldn't he have been forgettable?!

None of you are forgettable to me, my dear. You're all so very important, the memory surfaced unbidden. Obi-Wan would reassure him like that whenever he or his vode felt inadequate.

Cody's breath caught. He tried the name out in his head again. Obi-Wan. Then out loud: "Obi-Wan," he whispered to the wind.

He can say his General's name!

For the first time in years, he can say the name of the man who gave him everything and asked for nothing in return. It made him want to cry. But water is precious on Tatooine. Even he knows that. So he stashed that grief with all the other grief he'd piled away into a corner of his mind and then he left it be.

He's got a bacta patch, some tape, two painkillers, a spare comm that's broken straight in half, a ration bar, and nothing else. He split the ration bar in half and ate one of the halves along with one painkiller. Then he set to work making bandages out of part of the sleeve of his blacks and secured it around the cut on his head with some tape. Luckily he could still think rather clearly, so he didn’t think he was in danger of anything worse than a concussion, and the blood had stopped hours ago.

~~

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up the next day. Sighing, he decided to conserve his painkillers and food. He wanted to make it out of this canyon...gorge...thing...whatever it was, if he even could and make it to some sort of civilization. So with a groan of pain, he set off again.

He focused on the fact that he was no longer burning under the suns constantly due to the slight shelter the ridge provided, and told himself that he could make it. He was Marshal Commander Cody turned Purge Trooper, the sun was not going to be the thing that killed him. Kriff it all, he was going to live. For his vode. For his General. He would live.

~~

Civilization was a sight for sore eyes. After almost having fallen to his death multiple times, and having definitely aggravated the wound on his abdomen, he had made it out. He wanted to fall asleep. No wait, he wanted to eat something other than the expired ration bar and then fall asleep. And food required civilization.

The citizens of the town had apparently had a good amount of half-dead beings stagger their way into town because he was barely even given a second glance. The town, which he later learned was Mos Espa, was located in the north across from the Dune Sea, where he'd crashed. The barkeep was helpful enough to direct him to somewhere he could trade in some of his armor and scrap for some credits and get new clothes for it. He traded everything except his vambraces, greaves, blaster and toolbelt, and got a hooded jacket and a pair of patched-up spacer's pants in return. Freshly outfitted and feeling lighter than he ever had, but also more exposed than ever, he wandered back outside and through the town.

He had no working commlink, not that he would want to call the Empire anyway, better they just assume he died, and no credits and nowhere to go. Credits, he obviously needed. Shelter could come later.

~~

Cody spent three weeks in Espa. He picked up odd-jobs here and there, and with the credits, bought some medical supplies, treated his wounds, and then did more odd-jobs. He had no purpose but also no reason to leave. The townsfolk weren't so bad once you got to know them and Espa was quiet, out of the way. No one could find him there.

At least that's what he thought.

Brown robes weren't uncommon on Tatooine. The first time he had seen one, he nearly killed himself by looking away from the box he was supposed to be catching. But it wasn't him, how could it be? The second and third times, he had been no less surprised, but this time he knew it wouldn't be him. It couldn't be him.

Now, being the tenth time, he barely even glanced at the stranger on an eopie wandering into town. But he felt the eyes on his back anyway.

Cody knew he was recognizable. He was one in a a few billion, obviously there would be people that had seen his face before. Some of the townsfolk asked about that at the beginning, but not for long. They stopped asking soon enough. So this stranger would realize soon enough that he wasn't who he thought and move on. They all did, everyone had for as long as he could remember, except for one. Cody couldn't escape the slight feeling of relief that filled him when the stranger's eyes were gone. For some reason, that stare had felt more piercing than normal. He shivered despite the heat, then turned back to his work.

He forgot about the stranger until that night, when he made his way into the bar for a refreshment after his day of work. They were there, at the bar, almost as if they were waiting for him. But that was crazy, and Cody resolutely placed himself as far away from them as possible. They made no move towards him, didn't even notice him, as far as he could tell, and they mutually ignored each other for the rest of the night.

Until Cody left to make his way back to where he was staying. Noticing his brown hooded shadow, he made his way through alleys and then stopped. "Whoever you are, whatever you want, why don't you just leave me alone. We'll both be happier that way."

The figure made a choked noise and took another half step towards Cody, who had spun to face them.

"What do you want from me?" the clone demanded.

"I don't know."

"Who are you? How did you find me?"

The figure lifted their hands to remove the hood, and Cody immediately tensed towards his blaster. Moonlight illuminated silver threaded copper hair and Cody's eyes widened.

"My dear, I think you know the answer to that by now. It's not an expression you've particularly liked me to say," Obi-Wan Kenobi said, tears streaming down his drawn face.

Cody stumbled back against the rough stone wall. "No. No, it's not you. It can't be. I...I killed you! I watched you fall! That should have killed you!"

"You of all people should know I am rather good at surviving things normal mortals should not be able to," he chuckled wetly and his gaze moved off into the middle distance. "It was a specific point of anxiety for you during the war. Oh Kote. Ner'Kote...what have they done to you?"

"More like what have they done with me," Cody remarked bitterly. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Is this real? I need you to tell me right now if this is real, General."

"Not your General."

Cody gave him a withering glare. "Yes you are."

The Not Apparition took a step forward. "May I?"

Cody nodded slowly, and then General Kenobi was gently, carefully, cradling his hand in both of his like it was the most precious thing he had ever held. "I'm here, Cody."

Cody broke right there. In the middle of nowhere on Tatooine, Cody fell to the ground and sobbed. He grieved in his General's arms, the man he was not allowed to even think of until earlier that month. The man he thought he had killed. The man he loved.

"Ni'ceta! Ni'ceta, Obi-Wan! I should have fought it harder, I should have escaped earlier, I should have looked for you, I should have--"

Obi-Wan shushed him. "You should have nothing Cody. You did everything you could. It was not you. I forgive you. I've forgiven you. I'd forgiven you as I was falling. It was not you, my dear."

They sat there, two broken pieces slowly healing each other in the middle of an alley in the middle of nowhere in Mos Espa until Obi-Wan pulled away.

"Let's go home cyar'ika," he murmured.

Home. The first true home he would ever have. "That sounds perfect."