#wren-blue knight

[wren-blue]

another WIP of my silly little orc knight!

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren x Ezra Bridger

Knightfall

Story Summary: A mysterious new enemy attacks Grand Master Skywalker's Jedi Temple in the dead of night. Faced with overwhelming odds, Jedi Master Ezra Bridger and Jedi Master Sabine Wren must fight against an enemy determined to finish what Emperor Palpatine started so long ago: exterminating the Jedi, once and for all.

@sabezraweek Prompt: Free

"Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out." - Revenge of the Sith novelization, Matthew Stover

The temple was burning.

Jedi Master Ezra Bridger moved with all the speed he could muster, drawing on the Force to aid in his movement. Merely a hundred feet ahead were the stone steps leading into the temple -

His eyes narrowed and a lance of agony pierced his heart.

Bodies lay scattered on the steps. Silhouettes, lit by the inferno engulfing the Temple, were engaged in fierce battle up and down the staircase: some of them were garbed in the traditional Jedi robes, lightsabers ignited in shades of blue, green, yellow, and violet; others wearing the familiar sinister plaster-white of what could only be stormtrooper armor.

As he approached, the rapid staccato of blaster-fire pierced the cool evening air. Some of the remaining Jedi went down.

He called to his wife, Jedi Master Sabine Wren. "Sabine!"

"Yeah, I see it!" He heard swift movement somewhere behind to his left and felt her reassuring presence through the Force.

"You can get there faster and clear the way!" he shouted.

"On it! I'll try to save some for you, old man!" Sabine, wearing her customary Mandalorian armor underneath her Jedi robes, fired her jetpack and raced ahead. A moment later, her lightsaber flared to life, the green-white blade a stark contrast against the fiery red and orange they were racing towards.

Her humor, Ezra noted, was purely reflexive. In the Force, he could feel her inner turmoil and despair barely restrained by sheer force of will.

Be safe, my love, he thought, desperately.

His wife flew through the battle and lopped off a head from one of the stormtroopers. She landed, pivoted, and switched to her patented akimbo lightsaber/blaster style. With grim determination, she set to work, with the other Jedi Knights rallying to her aid.

Her lightsaber blade cleaved through the enemy force, a green blur punctuated by shots from her blaster.

Ezra allowed himself a grim smile.

He needn't have worried. Closing the gap quickly, he ignited his own lightsaber and joined his wife in the fray.

Her name is Sabine Wren. She is a Jedi Master.

In her lifetime, she has been born many titles.

Mandalorian. Rebel. Traitor. Jedi. Mother. Wife.

She is all of these things . . . and more.

Her story is famous among the Jedi younglings. She is fearless, passionate, and forthright. The first Mandalorian Jedi in a thousand generations.

Sabine is not particularly attached to any of these titles, although she is grateful for them; for what they taught her and how they continue to guide her, even now.

Sabine Wren, Jedi Master, values one thing above all: balance. A sense of life and purpose that, for the longest time, had eluded her.

After much hardship she finally found it in the most obvious of places: herself. She didn't need to be a Jedi to matter.

She just needed to be herself.

And that is what she excels at. That is what gives her such fearsome strength. She is the personification of a tempest in battle; her prowess in combat is said to rival that of Grand Master Skywalker himself.

She never gives into the anger; the fear. They are tools, merely to sharpen her edge. Through the Force, she burns so brightly like the starbird of legend that she wears proudly on her armor.

Her name is Sabine Wren. And even in the blackest of nights, she shines like a torch for all to follow.

A flicker in the Force; Sabine angled her lightsaber to swat away another blaster bolt. She crouched and aimed her blaster at a stormtrooper, a dozen steps up towards the entrance.

Pulling the trigger once, twice, three times - all shots found their mark. He fell limp and tumbled down the steps in comical fashion.

"Watch it!" she snapped to a Jedi Knight - a Wookie, still young, named Lowbacca - who was busy with two stormtroopers. A third was taking aim at him from the Temple entrance, a long rifle in his hand.

Lowbacca growled his acknowledgment and snapped his lightsaber, a unique bronze color, to a defensive position. The long rifle fired; the bolt was deflected away by the younger Jedi.

However that left his flank exposed to the other two stormtroopers he was previously engaged with.

Sabine prepared to jetpack straight for those two, only to find a barrage of blaster-fire halt her progress; another squad had appeared from the burning entrance of the Temple and began to batter the remaining Jedi with shots.

Realization hit Sabine like a gut punch.

I'm not going to make it. Lowbacca's going to die.

The stormtroopers, sensing their opportunity, raised their rifles -

And were promptly cut down in a flash of humming blue-white energy.

Fierce exultation filled Sabine's heart.

He was here. Ezra was here, at last.

Her husband sprinted up the steps with speed that shouldn't have been capable of any being, let alone a middle-aged man. But with the Force as his ally, there was little that couldn't be accomplished by Jedi Master Ezra Bridger.

Throwing out his hand, he called his lightsaber back into his hand and pounced towards the squad of stormtroopers at the Temple's entrance.

They saw him too late. His blue-white blade cut through the air, scattering away their fire, moving at a speed that defied logic. Within mere seconds, the squad was cut down.

Ezra pivoted away from them and raced down the steps, picking off the remaining scattered troops.

Sabine trained her blaster on the entrance but no more troopers appeared.

And like that, the battle was over.

She reached out through the Force, looking for any signs of life among the still bodies - but nothing.

Ezra had done what was necessary with his usual efficiency.

Lowbacca lowered his lightsaber and stared at Sabine - and then at Ezra, coming up to check on his wife.

The Jedi Master wasn't even breathing hard.

"Show off," said Sabine to her husband, smiling a little underneath the helmet.

"Hey, you liked it," retorted Ezra. He came close and eyed her. "Are you okay?"

"No injuries. Armor took all the pot shots, as always. You?"

He shook his head. "I'm alright."

They both looked around at the chaos around them. The remaining Jedi Knights were looking at them. Waiting.

Ezra turned to them and said one word. The word they were all dreading.

"Knightfall."

The fire burned behind them, casting shadows on their faces. Through the Force, she felt the grimness of their duty - what needed to be done - and the mourning for what was lost, bursting forth like a fountain in each of them.

But they nodded and ran into the night, one by one. Their duty was paramount. The future of the Jedi Order would be decided on this night, by their actions.

Lowbacca let out a howl of anguish. Ezra clapped him on the shoulder and spoke something in private to the Wookie Jedi.

Sabine felt a chill go down her spine - the wookie's howl sounded so much like the mourning cry of the Loth-wolves back at home.

Almost like an omen . . .

The Wookie Jedi Knight chuffed out a response, nodded once to Sabine, and then ran after his fellow Jedi Knights.

Sabine saw Ezra stare after them. She didn't need the Force to tell what her husband was feeling.

The fallen Jedi on the Temple steps spoke loud enough for her.

After a moment, Ezra turned to her. "Have you heard from Master Skywalker?"

Sabine frowned. "I'm not sure. Scattered reports from the other Jedi; they haven't seen him. He wasn't inside the Temple when the explosion went off."

"I can't sense him either. You?"

Sabine reached out - multiple presences inside the Temple, too numerous to count or identify.

She shook her head. "No, nothing. But there are survivors, I think. Other Jedi, still fighting."

Ezra grimaced. "We'll have to head inside, then." He paused. "Sabine, did you hear from . . . ?"

"Our daughter? Last I heard she was gathering up the younglings into the mess hall."

Aster Bridger-Wren, a Jedi Knight, like her mother and father. Their pride and joy and love.

Still inside the burning Temple.

Ezra asked, "Anything else?"

"No. Comms were jammed shortly after that."

Ezra nodded, but she felt his concern and anxiety double through the Force, thrumming like a taut power cable.

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Ezra. She's tough. She'll be alright."

Ezra swept a hand at the chaos before them. "This enemy - who are they? Imperials?"

"Can't be. Empire's been dead for decades. This is something new."

She paused before stating, "I think it's the enemy General Organa was warning us about."

Ezra narrowed his eyes at her. "The Imperial remnant hiding in the Unknown Regions? They had this kind of firepower out there this whole time?"

"I don't know, Ezra. It's possible."

Another explosion rocked the Temple and the two Masters were briefly buffeted by wind and debris.

Her husband shook his head. "No time to talk theories. We need to get in there, find Aster and the younglings."

"What's the plan?"

He looked at her and ignited his lightsaber.

She grinned. "Oh, I like this plan."

He snorted. "You always do."

His name is Ezra Bridger. He is a Jedi Master.

A model to the other Jedi, he is considered to perfectly embody the quintessential Jedi essence: kind, compassionate, and diplomatic.

What very few realize is how funny he is; how passionate he can be, just like his wife; and, most importantly, how hopeful he remains on even the bleakest of days.

His love story - and subsequent marriage - with Sabine Wren is the stuff of legend; not just among the Jedi, but the galaxy as a whole. Holo-dramas have told and re-told their story to trillions galaxy-wide, never failing to amuse him (and exasperate his wife).

His proudest achievements are his daughter and marrying Sabine.

Where Master Wren is a storm, he is a gentle wind, swaying the grass fields; where she is a firestorm, he can be the rain; his light is not the burning torch of his wife, but a calm, unwavering candle in the night to guide your way.

His skills in combat are vastly underrated, only due to him preferring a more diplomatic approach to problem solving - but the few who have seen him in action have been awed to silence at his speed and efficiency.

Ezra Bridger is merciful. It is a quality that his wife - and others who admire him - adores.

But he is no push-over. And his mercy has its limits.

Something more eternal, more truthful, and more deeper to the Light Side of the Force exists within the soul of Ezra Bridger.

Because he knows the truth of life; of the light and the dark. He has seen it all in his life.

He knows the fundamental law of nature and lives its creed to the best of his ability everyday: that the dark must always yield to the light.

No matter how small the flame.

The way to the mess hall was choked with fire, smoke, and stormtroopers. Sabine pulled out a re-breather mask from her pouch and handed it to her husband.

"Thanks," he panted. Jedi had techniques for dealing with smoke inhalation, but they could only stretch out air for several extra minutes - and that was if they weren't doing anything strenuous at the same time.

The stormtroopers were handled with little problem by the two Jedi Masters; it was the bodies of fallen Jedi that disturbed them the most. Friends and acquaintances, all of them. Too many to count.

Sabine wondered if this was how her master, Ahsoka Tano, felt during Order 66. Did she see the bodies of her friends and comrades too? She never spoke much about the events of that bloody period of history.

Vaulting over the corpse of a Jedi youngling, Sabine didn't have to wonder why.

They felt the presence of her daughter huddled inside the mess hall with a group of younglings. The two Masters reached out through the Force and let her know that they were coming.

Reaching the door, Ezra said, "Sabine. Watch my back?"

"Always." She ignited her lightsaber and turned around to scan the hallway for any incoming enemy traffic.

He opened the door.

Inside was a mess; benches pushed to the sides of the hall, with the long tables used for dining bunched together in a tight half-circle. And enclosed in that circle . . .

"Aster! All clear!"

His daughter poked her head above the table, along with ten or so Jedi younglings.

"Dad!" She waved a hand at him.

Ezra felt his heart lift with the immense relief at the sight of her uninjured. He ran over and gave a huge bear hug that lifted her off the ground.

Sabine ran behind him and quickly closed the doors and locked them before joining her husband in an embrace of their family.

"I told your father you'd be alright," said Sabine. "Smart of you to barricade yourselves in the mess hall."

"Thanks," said Aster. She was tall for her age, a latent gift from her grandmother, Ursa Wren, who stood at a towering six feet. Her hair was cut short in a bob fashion, similar to her mother but she had inherited her father's dark blue color.

Even now, he smiled faintly at the memory invoked whenever she was within eyesight; she was the spitting image of her mother at that age. Except for the eyes - those she had gotten from him, perpetually piercing with their blue, bright-eyed gaze.

"You're not hurt anywhere?" He searched her all over, with all his senses.

"I'm fine, Dad, really." She paused and said. "There were Jedi Knights outside the door. Did they . . . ?"

Sabine shook her head. Ezra remembered the bodies they stepped over on the way here. "They didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Aster bit her lip and looked down.

Ezra put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Hey. They did their duty. Just like you did yours. Remember."

"Honor what they fought for," she said.

"Right. And we do that by getting you and the younglings out of here."

He looked to his wife. "Hangar bay?"

Sabine nodded. "I know a short-cut. Should be safe. We hid the corvettes pretty well in case of something like this. I doubt the Imperials know about it."

Aster looked at her mother sharply. "Is it really the Empire?"

Ezra shook his head. "I'm not sure. Your mother and I don't think so."

Sabine said, "Well, they fall pretty easily to a well-placed lightsaber."

Aster snorted. "That doesn't narrow down the list of suspects much, Mom."

Sabine shrugged. "Hey, I'm a Jedi Master. Not a detective."

Ezra smiled briefly at his wife before asking, "Have you seen or heard from Master Skywalker, Aster?"

His daughter frowned, thinking for a few moments. Then: "No, I haven't."

Ezra shared a despairing look with Sabine.

"But I saw his astromech droid."

Ezra's eyes widened. "Artoo? Where did you see him?"

One of the Jedi younglings - a small Togruta female - spoke up. "He was being taken by the troopers. They were heading towards the inner defenses."

Ezra felt an icy fist clutch his heart. He looked at Sabine.

"It's bad, isn't it," she said, quietly.

"They have his astromech. Luke trusted Artoo with everything regarding the temple - if the Jedi are to escape, we need those defenses. They're probably trying to get him to turn them off."

She cocked her head at him. "What's the plan, Ezra?"

He smiled sadly at her. "I'm counting on you."

Even under the helmet, he could feel her eyes blazing at him. "Absolutely not. We go together."

"Someone needs to stay with Aster and the younglings to guide them out safely."

Sabine took off her helmet and stepped closer to him; her eyes were swimming in tears. "I am not leaving you here to die some stupid, noble death!"

Ezra gently grabbed her and lead them both away from Aster and the younglings. He could feel the worried eyes of his daughter watching her parents.

"I don't want her to see us fighting. Not at a time like this," he said to her in a low voice.

"The Jedi Order is dying, Ezra. We need everyone to fight back against this shadow enemy - "

"No, we need them!" He waved at Aster and the younglings. "They're the future! They're what we need to save, Sabine."

She shook her head. "Don't ask me to do this. Please, Ezra." Sabine reached out and cupped his face.

It took everything he had to step away. How badly he wanted to stay with her.

Just like before. A long, long time ago . . .

Softly, he gave his wife a kiss. "We had our time. I was happy with you. With Aster. With Hera and Jacen and Zeb and Chopper. And Kanan."

Sabine started to weep.

"It's time to pay it forward, my love. For the future. For Aster."

She looked away from him for a long moment. Then she put on her helmet. Sorrow radiated out from her like a furnace but he felt the iron will of his wife begin assert determination into her being.

She had made her choice.

Once, a long time ago, she had made a wrong choice. And Sabine had vowed never to do so again.

No matter the cost.

"Aster. Gather the younglings. Keep them in a tight formation."

Aster nodded and started issuing instructions. Sabine looked to her husband and said, "Thirty minutes."

Ezra frowned. "What?"

"I'm giving you thirty minutes, Ezra. Then we leave."

"Sabine . . . "

She grabbed him by the tunic. "I don't care, Ezra. The Force can't decide all of it. You owe it to me and your daughter to try."

Ezra blinked and smiled at his wife.

Do or do not . . .

"I promise to try," he replied. "That's the best I can give."

Sabine nodded and let him go. Igniting her lightsaber she went to the door and peered out.

"All clear. Aster, we're heading out."

Aster ignited her own lightsaber - a vivid, pink hue - and led the tightly formed group of younglings out the door. Ezra took up the rear.

Before they went separate ways, Aster gave him a quick hug.

"Is this . . . good-bye?" she asked, voice quivering. His daughter was trying so hard to be brave.

Ezra almost couldn't trust himself to answer.

She would have known if he was lying.

He just squeezed his daughter a little harder in the hug, feeling her; the strength born from him and Sabine, all their knowledge and fears and joys, flowing into her.

"Follow your mother. Remember your training. And trust the Force."

She nodded into her shoulder. "I will, Dad."

He watched them leave, Sabine leading them into a side corridor.

Ezra looked at his wife. Sabine paused and took one last look at him.

He wanted nothing more than to freeze that moment. To savor the image of his wife, beautifully fierce, for an eternity.

A disturbance in the Force -

"Ezra!" shouted Sabine.

He whipped around, igniting his lightsaber in time to parry two shots aimed for his sternum.

Stormtroopers, coming around the bend. They aimed their rifles and started to fire.

He batted away the shots. "Sabine! Go!"

He felt her hesitation . . . and then it was replaced with grim determination. "Thirty minutes, Ezra! Don't be late, old man!"

And then she was gone, quickly ducking into the side corridor.

Ezra huffed out a quick laugh, dodging another blaster bolt. He deflected another one straight back to its shooter.

"Sorry, fellas," he said to the remaining stormtroopers. "Can't be late for this date."

He moved in on them, the Force guiding his hands.

Drawing on the Force, Ezra made the sprint to the Temple's inner defenses in five minutes.

His comm-link chirped as he stood outside the door, reaching out with the Force. Five presences, all filled with malicious intent.

He could also hear the pained squealing of an astromech droid.

Ezra ducked to the side and spoke into his comm-link. "Sabine?"

"Ezra. We've arrived and are powering up the corvette."

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Any issues?"

"Not really. Diced up some stormtroopers on the way. Aster did this neat flip move that I think Master Skywalker taught her."

Exasperated, Ezra heard his daughter groan. "Mom."

"It was very fancy. I think I saw you do something like that, when you were younger. Way younger."

Ezra growled, "I'm not that old, Sabine. You're older than me, you know."

"He's a charmer, your dad. How are things on your end?"

Ezra readied his lightsaber. "About to get this party started."

He paused and said, "Wish you were here."

Sabine replied, "Well, you can tell me all about it when you get back in twenty minutes."

Ezra smiled, despite the situation. Sabine always knew what to say. "I'll do that."

"Yeah. You will. Or I'm coming for you." The call ended.

He readied a breath and stepped inside.

Despite the simple name, the Temple's inner defenses were a complex network of fail-safes and redundancies; all tied to a single, massive computer core that oversaw a whole network of protocols that kept the Temple running smoothly.

In case of an attack, the whole network was to run automatically without need of supervision; an alarm was to be sounded for evacuation and a recorded message from a selected Jedi Master broadcasted to the other temples to warn them.

In addition, multiple turbo-lasers were embedded in the grounds all surrounding the Temple. If there was a carrier waiting in orbit - as Ezra suspected there was - the turbo-lasers would fire unceasingly, giving fleeing Jedi a cover to escape.

It was an ingenious system devised by Master Skywalker and the New Republic's best and brightest - but it failed to account for one possibility.

Sabotage from within.

As Ezra stepped inside, the first thing he noted was the slashes all over the consoles. Sloppy, powerful, angry strokes - but not made from any metal blade.

Made from a lightsaber. The Force radiated with the rage and power from within the room; an echo of whoever had done this damage.

I've got a bad feeling about this, he thought. Ezra hadn't the slightest clue who from Luke's students would be capable of such a betrayal.

The second thing he noted was the squad of troopers huddled around a familiar astromech - R2-D2, Master Skywalker's trusted droid. He lay on his back as the troopers took turns poking stun batons at him.

"Stupid droid," one of them muttered. "Have you ever met one so annoying? They usually cave after the first shock."

Ezra decided that stormtrooper would be the first. Igniting his lightsaber, he said, "Hey, why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

They all whirled around. "Jedi!" screeched one of them.

Ezra pounced. There was a random array of shots, easily blocked by him.

Five swift slashes later, he was alone in the room with Artoo.

"Hey, buddy," he said, picking up the droid. The astromech warbled a relieved response to him.

"Have you heard from Master Luke, Artoo?"

Artoo replied in the negative. He sighed. "Figures."

Artoo beeped worriedly. "I'm sure he's alright. Anyway, can you get these consoles up and running? We need to get the defenses operational before - "

A sudden flicker in the Force was his only warning. Ezra dove to the side as an explosion shook the room. Bits of ceiling and rubble sprayed over him.

Shaking himself at this daze, Ezra looked up and saw the stars.

And then he saw the stars blotted out by something massive. Hovering over the planet.

Artoo had already jacked himself into the console. Within seconds the consoles came to life - and beeped an alert at him.

"A little late, but thanks. Yeah, I see it Artoo." He whistled. "That's a huge ship."

Artoo beeped a statement at him.

"The Supremacy? Sounds like someone important is visiting us tonight."

"Shall I tell you his name?" asked a menacing voice.

Ezra ignited his lightsaber and looked around to the source. A human man stood there, mid-30s with brown hair and a permanently pinched expression, garbed in what looked like an Imperial officer's uniform.

Only it was all in black. Not the usual monotone gray.

He held a blaster pistol in his hand, aimed at Ezra.

"Artoo, get those defenses up and running now."

More footsteps - hard and orderly; a marching formation.

Twelve more stormtroopers filed into the room and formed a semi-circle around Ezra and Artoo. They raised their rifles.

Ezra forced calm into his voice. "I know you're all scared. I'm a Jedi; I can sense these things."

The officer sneered at him. "We've killed plenty of your Jedi tonight."

Ezra cocked his head at him. "Not me, though. I'm still alive. I'm sure some of you are wondering why that it is."

He lifted his lightsaber in a defensive salute. "If you want to leave, you may do so."

The officer laughed. "No one will be leaving, Jedi. Except for you, in a body bag."

"So, what are you? Empire? Or something else?" Ezra couldn't help but be curious.

At the word Empire, the officer seemed insulted. Ezra could practically feel the man boil over with indignant rage.

"Do not," he said through gritted teeth, spittle flying from his mouth, "compare us to that bureaucratic, bloated waste of an Empire!"

Ezra raised his eyebrows in astonishment at the man's reaction. "My apologies."

"We are so much more! Led by our Supreme Leader Snoke, we will create order! We will enforce peace! No more New Republic, no more Empire - just an Eternal Order, the first of it's kind in the galaxy!"

He jabbed the blaster pistol at Ezra in a frenzy. "We are the First Order, Jedi!"

"First, huh." Beside him, Artoo beeped softly.

All finished. He nodded at the astromech droid.

All at once, the ground shook as the turbo-lasers, finally re-activated, began to blast away at the super-carrier in orbit above the Temple.

The First Order officer blinked in surprise. "What . . . ?"

Ezra pulled him forward with the Force, impaling him on the lightsaber blade.

"Ggghrk," said the First Order officer. Ezra leaned in close to whisper in the idiot's ear.

"The Jedi Order will make sure that your 'First Order' will also be the last. You should have learned something from your predecessors - never let a Jedi talk."

The fury erupted in the man's eyes - and then faded all at once. He was dead.

Ezra tossed him off the blade and waved to the stormtroopers. "Next?"

They opened fire.

Letting the Force guide his hands into a defensive pattern, Ezra shouted to the astromech droid. "Artoo! You're all good, buddy. Go find Master Skywalker!"

Artoo squealed in protest.

"I'll be fine. Gotta stay here to make sure they don't shut down the defenses again." His blade hummed angrily, swatting away more blaster-fire. "Go, go!"

The droid sighed in resignation and activated his boosters, flying through a hole in the ceiling.

And then it was just Ezra. Alone.

Deflecting more shots, he spoke into his comm-link to say good-bye to his wife . . . only for him to realize that it had been damaged in the explosion from earlier.

So that was it, then.

No more good-byes.

Ezra Bridger drew the Force into him, letting him fill his entire being until he could feel his cells glowing with its power.

And then he went to work. Moving with impossible speed, cutting down the stormtroopers; dodging, weaving, parrying with unerring accuracy and grace.

The twelve that entered didn't stand a chance.

But more came. Filing through, blasters firing away.

And then more. And more. And more.

And more. An unending, unceasing flood of white armor and red blaster-fire.

Ezra Bridger, Jedi Master, knew the math was not coming in his favor for this battle.

But he could not let them turn off the defenses.

And so he fought. Drawing more and more of the Force into himself.

It was dangerous, he knew. That much Force usage would burn out even an experienced Jedi in minutes.

He was burning himself out.

Ezra wondered if he could count how much time he had left in heartbeats. His hands weaved the lightsaber, blocking three shots -

A fourth got through. His leg.

He drew more of the Force in, walling away the pain. He pivoted, sliced through the abdomen of another stormtrooper -

His shoulder erupted in pain. Ezra ignored it.

And then his abdomen, left side.

He was fading. Somehow, barely conscious, he was still moving. Still fighting. His body moved on instinct, despite the increasing toll of his mounting injuries.

F a d i n g . . .

F a d i n g . . .

Memories.

Meeting Sabine for the first time. How intimidating she was; how fierce she looked in the Mandalorian armor. How beautiful she looked under the helmet. Feelings that had never gone away - that he never expected to be reciprocated until she found him again.

Kanan. His first lessons as a Padawan, learning how to wield the lightsaber, how to open himself to the Force; but, above all, how to be a good person.

Hera. The Twi'lek who was like a mother to him. The laughter they shared, how she protected and taught him. He remembered the tears she wept after his long voyage home from Peridea, sweeping him into the deepest, warmest hug he could ever have imagined after such a lonely exile.

Zeb. Cantankerous, reliable Zeb. The joy and deep soul underneath that gruff exterior.

Chopper. Foul-mouthed but ever dependable. The fun times they had getting out of sticky situations with the Empire.

Ahsoka. Always looking forward, always wise, always a mentor whenever he needed. She was the one to knight him. Helped mold him into the Jedi Master he was today.

More memories. More fuel to keep him going. Feeding the fire that was going out.

Sabine finding him again on Peridea. How easily they slipped into old habits, hiding away what had changed.

How her betrayal had shaken him - but they made it through, together. Forged a bond that could never be broken.

Meeting Jacen for the first time. Feeling his heart crack at how much like Kanan he looked.

Ending Thrawn's reign of terror against the galaxy. Saving the New Republic.

Living with Sabine. Falling in love all over again.

The marriage. Their vows. Waking up to Sabine, sleeping next to him, softly snoring. Feeling the weight of her, how she felt, the strength of her heartbeat.

The birth of their daughter, Aster.

Seeing her first steps, her first words; seeing her enter the Academy for the first time.

So many memories.

He fed them all into the fire.

The blaster-fire stopped at some point.

Ezra stood, just barely. He couldn't feel much at that point. His lightsaber held just aloft in a position that required the least amount of energy to hold.

Around him lay the crumpled bodies of at least a hundred stormtroopers. All dead.

A voice crawled into his head. Through the Force.

You have fought well, Master Jedi.

It sounded like . . . the Grand Inquisitor? No, it couldn't be. Or maybe it was Vader?

Or . . . Thrawn?

"Who is this?" he muttered.

The death of your Order, the voice said. The beginning of mine.

Somewhere in the haze of his mind, he remembered. "Snoke," he said.

Remember it well. For the short time you have left.

Three figures walked through the entrance, wearing scarlet armor. They moved through the sea of dead bodies like red wraiths.

In their hands, wicked blades with purple electricity surging through them.

Ezra had heard of them from the days of the Empire from Luke.

Praetorian guards.

Die well, Master Bridger, said the voice.

Still fading. Just embers left now.

Ezra, still in pain, lifted his lightsaber one last time.

Sabine looked desperately at the chronometer. Ezra hadn't arrived yet.

They were out of time.

"Anything?" she asked Aster.

Aster, tears streaming down her face, shook her head. "I can't raise him. Comms must be down."

Another explosion rocked the hangar bay.

"Not much of the turbo-lasers left," she said. "The massive ship above is bombing what's left."

She looked at her mother. "We have to get Dad. Let me get him."

I'm counting on you.

Sabine grabbed her daughter and sat her back down. "Tell the younglings to strap in and prepare for take-off."

A part of her was screaming, dying at what she was about to do.

"What? No - no, we're not leaving him, right? Mom!" Aster looked at her mother, pleading.

Sabine didn't listen. She keyed the control for the hangar bay doors and pushed the engines to maximum.

"Mom!" Aster yelled at her. "You're leaving him! You're leaving Dad behind!"

She glanced out the view-port to the burning Temple below.

Good-bye, my love.

Sabine knew, deep down, that she would always regret not saying it to him for the rest of her life.

She pushed the throttle and aimed for the stars.

The battle didn't last long.

It didn't need to. Ezra had done what was needed.

The praetorian guards pulled their blades from him. He fell over, watching the blood seep onto the stone floor.

One of them kicked him onto his back.

Through the crack in the ceiling, he saw a frigate rocket by, weaving through the laser bombardment, flying towards freedom.

He knew his wife and daughter were on there. Safe.

I'm sorry, Sabine. Going to be late after all. Hope you don't mind waiting a bit.

One of the Praetorian guards raised his blade for a final blow.

Ezra reached out one last time into the Force. Blowing life into the embers that were left.

With a strained shout, he threw his hands towards that cracked Temple ceiling. It shifted and groaned -

And then collapsed. Tons of rubble falling, caving in on the room.

The Praetorian guards screamed but had nowhere to run.

Ezra Bridger smiled, thinking of his watchtower - how the sun hit the capital city at the right angle making it sparkle in the early evening; how holding Sabine's hand felt on a warm, breezy day, just sitting in the grass fields, watching the Loth-cats scurry about . . .

He was still thinking about Sabine when he died.

FAR, FAR AWAY (Jacen)

Jacen Syndulla, Jedi in training, raced onto the docking ramp of the Ghost. His mother, Hera, is already preparing to lift-off from the Ghost cockpit.

"Jacen! Are we all set?"

He mentally checked the list one more time. "Yeah! That's everything!"

The broadcast from Master Skywalker's Temple had hit them hard - but the plan was already in motion. The Jedi were on the move.

Knightfall. Knightfall. Knightfall.

"Jacen, get up here! Gonna need you for navigation!"

"Alright, Mom," Jason shouted back. He began to close the ramp -

He paused. Two figures, shrouded in ghostly blue and somewhat translucent in Jedi robes, stood at the end.

One of them lowered his hood. Jacen sucked in a breath; it was a face he had only seen in holos and photographs.

"Dad?" he whispered.

His father, Kanan Jarrus, waved at him. He smiled sadly and turned to the other figure who also lowered his hood.

Jacen took a step back. "No, it can't be."

It was Ezra. He looked pointedly at Jacen and the younger Jedi could hear him in his thoughts.

It's up to you now, Jacen. You're the future.

Jacen began to cry. "Ezra, wait - "

I'll be seeing you around, kid. Don't worry. And look after your mom.

And then he was gone. They were both gone.

The docking ramp closed.

"Jacen! Where are you?"

After a couple minutes, Hera let Chopper doing the flying. She found her son, huddled at the docking entrance, still crying.

FAR, FAR AWAY (Ahsoka)

Ahsoka Tano turned to Huyang and asked, "Are the coordinates set?"

"Yes, Lady Tano. I expect we'll be the first to arrive."

They were sitting in the cockpit of her trusty T-6, waiting in deep space.

"Good. Any news from General Organa?"

"She'll be meeting us there, along with the other Resistance leaders," replied the droid.

The Jedi Master sighed and began to feel her age. "I can't believe it's happening again, Huyang."

The droid concurred with a sad tone. "Yes. Twice in my lifetime."

"And mine, too." Ahsoka had felt the disturbance in the Force, shortly followed by the broadcast from Luke's Temple.

Knightfall. Knightfall. Knightfall.

She drove a fist into her leg. "We're ready this time, though. We saw this coming."

Huyang replied, "The enemy is far more devious and quicker than we imagined. But, yes, we do have a plan ready for this."

Ahsoka opened her mouth to reply . . . only to feel a wave of sadness and grief wash over her. It was so intense and immediate that she doubled over in her pilot's chair.

I'm leaving it to you, Ahsoka. Thank you for everything.

"Ezra," she whispered. "No, oh no. Ezra."

Huyang, alarmed, asked, "Lady Tano? What is the matter?"

Ahsoka didn't reply. She was too busy crying over her lost friend.

FAR, FAR AWAY (Sabine)

Aster felt Ezra's passing before she did.

Sabine watched her daughter whisper, "Dad?", shudder once and then begin to sob, unrestrained.

And then - an invisible hand stroked her hair.

Ezra's voice, in her head.

Sorry, Sabine. You'll have to wait a little longer. I love you.

She reached out to grab the hand, but it was already gone.

And that's when she knew, more than anything else she had seen in the burning Jedi Temple, that her world had ended.

The frigate lay hidden in an asteroid field.

They had been pursued, as she expected. Sabine had used up every piloting trick she knew or heard about to escape the enemy.

Finally, they had stopped in an asteroid field to take stock and rest. Everything but the life support was turned off, in the event their pursuers came sniffing around.

And all that was left to do was . . . wait. Until they heard from Ahsoka.

Sabine sat in the darkness, feeling almost grateful for it.

Ezra was dead.

She kept repeating it in her head. It was a fact but that didn't make it feel any more true.

Ezra was dead. Ezra was dead.

"Mom?"

She looked over to Aster - and realized they weren't alone.

The younglings had all come to the bridge. They were scared, even if they were doing a good job of hiding it.

"Yes, Aster?"

"I'm - I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. About leaving Dad behind."

Sabine shook her head. "It's the truth. That's what I did."

Aster reached out and took her hand. Sabine could feel Ezra's strength in those hands.

"It's what he wanted. He wanted to make sure we were safe."

The words tumbled into the hollow space in her heart where Ezra used to be. They didn't make much of a difference in how she felt, but she forced herself to nod.

"Master Wren?" asked one of the younglings.

Sabine said, "Yes?"

"Can you tell us a story? To pass the time?"

Sabine almost laughed. "A story?"

What use are stories at a time like this?

Aster replied, "I think that's a good idea. Mom?"

Sabine sighed - and then heard Ezra's voice.

Tell them a story, Sabine. You've got plenty of them.

She frowned. Why? What good would it do?

Well, it'll stop you from moping around, for one.

Oh, funny.

You've got to give them hope, Sabine.

Even when I don't have any for myself? she asked.

Especially, then, replied Ezra's voice.

She sighed. I miss you so much, already, goofball.

"Alright, gather around. I've got one. About going into another galaxy."

The younglings eyes widened and they huddled into a circle around her.

There was a small yelp. "Ouch."

Sabine winced. "Yeah, okay. Probably need some light, then. Can't use technology though . . ."

Aster said, "Hang on, I've got a lighter here."

She flicked it on. "Is that from Dad?" asked Sabine, amazed.

Her daughter's eyes opened in realization. "Yeah, for my birthday. He said they used to use this way back in the early, early days before the Republic. It's an antique."

Sabine watched the small flame, dancing defiantly in the dark. It lit the faces of all that were present -

And, for a small instant, she saw Ezra - smiling, huddled in the circle, ready to hear one of her stories.

I'm counting on you, Sabine.

She smiled, feeling the tears coming on. Sabine bowed her head for a moment, cleared her throat - and started telling the story.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy, far, far away . . . "

"The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars." - Revenge of the Sith novel, Matthew Stover

[echoing-locations]

Ok I love Nimona but my main hyper fixation is Starwars and will always be Starwars. Given that here’s what I think Nimona characters would be in Starwars

Nimona - a Mandalorian  who has a lot of knowledge in cloaking technology, (she’s basically Sabine wren from rebles)

Ballister - a disgraced Jedi knight who is questioning all he knew about the Jedi order

Ambrosius - a Jedi master who is also questioning the order bit still believes in it

The Director - a senator to Ambrosius’s home planet

The queen - the chancellor of the republic

Todd - a not very smart bounty hunter, trying to track down Ballister 

That’s basic character stuff uhh

Ballisters lightsaber, and he has a purple blade

And Ambrosius’s lightsaber and he has a blue blade

If you want more of this let me know cuz I will dump ALL of my Starwars knowledge on y’all

[bookshelfmonkey]

queer books to read even though it isn't pride month anymore

Last year I posted about one queer book for each day of pride month. I was too busy to do that this June, so I'm just going to list 30 of my favourite queer books/series that you can read year round.

The Wayward Children- Seanan McGuire

The Roots of Chaos- Samantha Shannon

Under the Udala Trees- Chinelo Okparanta

Magic of the Lost- C.L. Clark

The Witch King- H.E. Edgmon

The Starless Sea- Erin Morgenstern

Hungry Ghosts- Shyam Selvadurai

Between Sun & Sky- Rebecca Roanhorse

Monk & Robot- Becky Chambers

American Hippo- Sarah Gailey

The God-King Chronicles- Mike Brooks

Hell Followed With Us- Andrew Joseph White

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth- Andrew Joseph White

Dead Collections- Isaac Fellman

Magic For Liars- Sarah Gailey

Across A Field of Starlight- Blue Delliquanti

My Volcano- John Elizabeth Stintzi

The Fable of Wren- Rue Sparks

Legends & Lattes- Travis Baldree

Teixcalaan- Arkady Martine

The Sunbearer Trials- Aiden Thomas

The Winter Knight- Jes Battis

We Won't Be Here Tomorrow- Margaret Killjoy

When Women Were Dragons- Kelly Barnhill

before island is volcano- Raquel Salas Rivera

Cinderella Is Dead- Kalynn Bayron

Ace of Spades- Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

Great Cities- N.K. Jemisin

Loveless- Alice Oseman

The Left Hand of Darkness- Ursula K. Le Guin

[whiteravengreywolf]

The Knighting of Sabine Wren - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my 200th fanfiction on AO3! This is the story of Sabine traveling to Dagobah to pass her Jedi Trial. Here is the beginning and if you want to read the rest of the story, the link will be at the end :)

As soon as the T-6 landed on Dagobah, Sabine felt cold. Though she wanted to believe that it was only the temperature on the swamp planet which was low, she had grown attune enough to the Force to know the truth. Something evil lurked on this planet. She checked her armor on herself once more, making sure every piece was secured. She was about to pick up her blasters when Ahsoka pulled them away from her.

“Not today,” she told her, and handed her her lightsaber instead.

Sabine took the weapon with a slight grimace and looked down at the hilt. The gravity of the moment fell on her at once. Her heart was beating hard in her throat, a mix of anticipation, nervousness, and fear. Ahsoka must have felt it too, as she placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember your training.”

Sabine nodded, and placed the lightsaber at her belt. Ahsoka opened the ramp. Huyang stood by the exit. He gave Sabine a nod before she stepped out. She returned it. Outside, the swamp smelled foul, the water an acrid blue color in some places and disgustingly muddy in others. Ahsoka walked between the ponds, stepping over the strong gnarled roots of the trees. Sabine followed.

“I had to think long and hard about your trial,” her master explained. “You’ve been through so much already.”

“Does that mean we can skip the trials and knight me right away?” Sabine joked.

Her master only rolled her eyes.

“This is where Luke Skywalker came to receive his training. He was given the same trial I am about to give you.”

“It can’t be too hard then,” Sabine replied, mostly to reassure herself.

“He failed his,” Ahsoka added, making her apprentice grimace.

Full Story Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53331094

[kalevalakryze]

Ara’novor

Pairings: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren, Shin Hati & Baylan Skoll, Shin Hati & Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger & Ahsoka Tano Characters: Shin Hati, Sabine Wren, Baylan Skoll, Ezra Bridger, Ahsoka Tano, Huyang Tags: Major Character Death, Blood and Injury, Non-Explicit Nudity, Grief/Mourning, Spoilers Notes: I seriously do think the series might wind up turning out this way after ep 6… Summary: Orange clashed against orange; their arms were on fire with the exertion it took to not buckle under the strength of the fatal swing. Shin’s gaze was determined as they forced themselves to look their Master in the eye for the first time since the traitorous thoughts had begun. Yellow and fury tinted normally kind eyes, his face drawn unrestrained anger and a heart wrenching disappointment as he regarded his Apprentice’s betrayal. Shin stood over Sabine Wren, both hands clasped firmly around the hilt of the saber he had guided her through building, their breathing was fast, nearing hyperventilation as they made their choice. “This isn’t right, Master,” She called, reaching out for him in the force, as they had done hundreds of times before. AO3 Link: here!

"But he shall. Sabine Wren will have the opportunity of finding Ezra Bridger, just as promised. And if she does, you and your Master will destroy them both."

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Baylan’s voice dripped with venom, Shin could feel the anger simmering off of him in waves, their eyes turning towards him to catch the whitening of his knuckles, grip tight around the hilt of his saber as he took in the sight before them.

Sabine did find Ezra Bridger, it seemed, and her Master, Ahsoka Tano somehow crawled back from the dead and followed them to Peridea as well; finding her Apprentice and the long-lost Rebel, and apparently, the band of Noti ‘Rebels’ that Bridger had acquired in his exile.

“And you’re supposed to be a Jedi, guess we’re both failures,” Ahsoka snipped back at him, placing herself in front of Mandalorian and Jedi Knight, willing to take on the two Gray Jedi swathed in dark alone, if it meant protecting them.

“Master,” Shin’s voice was quiet, silver-blue eyes not once leaving the way his tendons flexed in his hand.

“Quiet,” He commanded, taking Shin aback with a tone they had never heard directed anywhere near them. “It must be fate, then; The Purgills come here to die, and so have you,”

The ozone burned as white and blood orange ignited, Shin stayed stagnant beside her Master, even as his saber thrummed to life within her reach. Green ignited seconds white, Sabine Wren shouldering her way to Ahsoka’s side, golden eyes pierced through Shin’s; they could feel it, the betrayal, even if it was expected, Sabine was still hurt by Shin and Baylan’s betrayal.

Their Master’s eyes pierced into the side of her head. “Shin,” He urged, not as kindly as they remembered. It was distorted, it was wrong. This was not the Master that had saved them from Balosar’s overcrowded streets, this was not the Master who had taught her everything they’ve known. But Shin could not deny that while he was wrong, their Master was in there somewhere… he had to be.

Late to the party, Shin removed her saber and ignited it, blood orange thrumming to life in their hand in a way that felt just as wrong as their Master; their Kyber was full of contradiction, mirroring the Apprentice who wielded it.

Anger flashed on the other side of the battlefield, Shin watched the man, Ezra, reach for the painted armor of Sabine, fingertips brushing beskar as the Mandalorian suddenly charged. “Sabine!” He shouted in tandem with Ahsoka.

“You!” Baylan growled, his hand extending menacingly towards the failed Apprentice. Shin’s body jolted forward, though they did nothing to stop the shove of the force from her Master that threw the purple haired woman backwards.

She hit the ground hard, armor clanging against the ground as she skidded against the dirt.

Get up… Move, you must get up, Wren!

Shin’s jaw clenched, muscles in her throat moving, barely cognitive enough to take a step back as the feral Togruta leaped at their Master and clashed orange and white together once more. Shin did not take her eyes off the Mandalorian’s prone form, even as their saber deactivated, and Ezra knelt close his fallen sister.

Get up!

Sabine’s arm twitched, shoulder visibly spasming before the relief of forced breathing, sputtering, and coughing filled their ears like a harmony, blocking out the way Baylan and Ahsoka fought against each other.

Startling blue eyes rose to meet her own as the Jedi grabbed Sabine’s saber, he rose defensively in front of her, not taking his eyes off Shin, even though they made no move to advance.

Baylan wheezed as the Togruta slammed her boot into his abdomen, forcing him to lower his blade and stagger back. Shaking their head, blinking away their own contradictions, Shin managed to kick it in gear, blade reigniting in time to catch the white saber leveled for her Master’s head, glancing white off orange and placing themselves between the two relics of the Jedi order.

There was fear, copious amounts off it that settled in the bottom of their stomach and had their throat bobbing with each breath as the predatory gaze focused on them, still, Shin held their ground.

Ahsoka was fast, unnaturally so, Shin was struggling to keep up with glancing blows; when the second saber ignited and nearly sliced through their chest like she had done to Marrok, Shin could have sworn their heart stopped.

Their armor was strong enough to catch the blows that hit her shoulders and legs where they could not catch both blades in time, exertion had sweat beading on their brow, blurring their vision where it mixed with the dark cosmetic on its way down her face. The muscles in her arms and legs shook with each repeated hit as Ahsoka beat them back. Baylan was no where to be found as Ahsoka forced Shin up the crest of a nearby dune.

Green and orange clashing caught her attention in a dangerous moment, pulling their attention enough that when Ahsoka’s sabers slashed to the side, they had to drop back on their ass to avoid the fatal blow. Saber deactivating with the woman of her nightmares towering over her, the blonde could only focus on the way Baylan was forcing Ezra Bridger back, the Jedi clearly rusty in his saber skills against the brute power of her Master.

The saber was knocked from Ezra’s hands, Baylan’s armored shoulder slamming into an unprotected chest as the ex-Jedi bowled the young man over, sending him sprawling flat on his back and unresponsive.

There was yellow in his eyes when he looked towards Sabine once more, Shin felt the rush of Adrenaline in their veins like fire. “No,” Shoving themselves up, dodging the twin white blades that had been levelled to keep her on the ground, their feet moved, legs burning with each step as they raced across the battlefield.

Orange glinted off of the gold in Sabine’s eyes, her arm raising weakly over her face, not nearly enough to stop the heavy handed, downwards strike of Baylan’s blade. “No!” Shin shouted again as they crested the danger zone, as the darkness radiating off her Master threatened to suffocate them both; this wasn’t right! He made a promise!

Orange clashed against orange; their arms were on fire with the exertion it took to not buckle under the strength of the fatal swing. Shin’s gaze was determined as they forced themselves to look their Master in the eye for the first time since the traitorous thoughts had begun.

Yellow and fury tinted normally kind eyes, his face drawn unrestrained anger and a heart wrenching disappointment as he regarded his Apprentice’s betrayal. Shin stood over Sabine Wren, both hands clasped firmly around the hilt of the saber he had guided her through building, their breathing was fast, nearing hyperventilation as they made their choice. “This isn’t right, Master,” She called, reaching out for him in the force, as they had done hundreds of times before.

“None of this has been right,” They breathed, eyes narrowing and fingers flexing around their saber as they pushed away the anger and pain radiating off her Master.

“All of this has been for you, for us; You keep refusing to see it, Shin,” Baylan attempted to reason, though Shin knew, could feel the Definity in the force; This was the end for them, one way or another.

“Master, there is no world in which this continues, we are in a graveyard… this is the end, and we have accomplished nothing like you have told me we would!” The Mandalorian at their feet shifted; Shin’s bodyweight adjusted to protect Sabine as she struggled to sit up.

“If you are not with me, then you are against me,” His lips pressed into a thin line as he spoke, Shin could hear the echo of a continuation, somewhere in the force, echoing in the footsteps of the Togruta that moved behind them to check on her apprentice. “Only a Sith deals in absolutes, I will do what I must.”

“I understand my decisions, and the consequences that come with it,”

“Then you will die.”

‘Breathe’

Voices they did not know, a thrum in the force they had never experienced before, and the feeling of the three rebels at their back urged the shaking in their hands to still as Baylan’s blade came arching down against their own. This was not their Master, this was the culmination of what this mission, this graveyard had done to him, but… he was not coming back- They did not have a beginning to be found on this planet, at least, not at his side, as he had believed.

‘The Light… Find the Light’

He was trying to flip their positions, to force Shin to duck under his arm and put Sabine to his back, and Shin couldn’t let that happen, not when they couldn’t feel his intentions. When he moved in to make them duck, Shin lowered their body and plowed forward. They were too small to truly knock the hulking man off balance or to throw him entirely, but he did stumble back a few feet before his fingers wrapped in their tunic.

The shove was hard, but the hilt of his saber connecting with the side of their head to force her back was harder. Vision swimming with black spots dancing in their eyes, Shin dropped to their knees, keeping their saber at the ready, not unlike the Mandalorian when Shin had stabbed her on Lothal.

Shin had been running around the Imperial ship for hours as white clad stormtroopers searched for her. Their stolen valuable was clutched close to their chest, some shiny officer insignia that they didn’t know what to do with; she’d only taken it on instinct upon seeing it on the table, but the troopers that saw the child with it hadn’t known what to do about a thieving kid that they couldn’t shoot on sight. So, Shin ran.

On Balosar, something like this could feed her for an entire week! With the shining metal and the little blue and red boxes, maybe even ghri’ka would buy it from her and give her a new oxygen tank! Except, this wasn’t Balosar, they’d been in the recycled environment of the Imperial Light Cruiser for weeks now, leaving that part of their life far behind.

There were footsteps echoing in the hall, only one pair, steps light and nonthreatening, unlike the squads of stormtroopers that had been sweeping for her.

Still, their fear was tangent, heart beating fast in a small chest as they tried to stifle heavy breaths and choked back sobs, still clutching the insignia plate close, like their life depended on keeping it. The closet was small and empty, offering nowhere for her to hide if someone opened the door-

“Little one,” Baylan’s voice was calm through the door, warm and kind and safe. “May I come in?”

Their head nodded even though Baylan could not see, not trusting the way they knew their voice would squeak in that way the Supervisors on Balorsar hated. Still, the door opened, revealing the calm stoniness of the man she was to call ‘Master’.

He was doing his best to make himself seem smaller and less imposing as he stepped into the closet and lowered himself to a knee in front of the child, his hands resting on one knee, facing the ceiling. There were cool patterns etched into the print of his gloves, like a star map.

“Are you alright?” He questioned; concern written on strong features as he took in the cowering of the small force sensitive.

“I-“ They finally pulled the rank plate away from their chest, thrusting it out at him. It wasn’t worth their survival, not worth any amount of food or sparse credits that they could get from its trade.

Confused, Baylan took the small piece of metal and turned it over in his hands, a small smile pulled at his lips as he set it away. “So that’s what this is all about?” Shin’s head nodded quickly as their hands moved to pick at the bands around the braid Baylan had tied into her hair. “Shin, it’s alright. We should not take things that do not belong to us, this is true; but know this, my young apprentice… I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“Let it lift you”

“We stand behind you.”

“Rise.”

Silver-blue eyes met the yellow of their Master’s when their eyes opened, orange blade burning through the air as it arched towards them. Their lips pressed into a thin line as they moved, marking their spot against his chest even as his saber raced towards her.

There was an explosion of burning pain across their collarbone, the smell of singed hair and fabric filling their nose just as easily as the sound of Baylan choking on air filled her ears. Orange burned through his chest, true to their mark; their blade went clean through their Master’s front, through his heart, and out his back. The irony smell of his blood burning to cauterize the fatal wound soon became all they could focus on as his grip loosened on his saber and sent it to the ground.

Hands clung at their back as his body teetered forward hazardously, crimson trickling into the white of his beard and staining the course hair as he stared down at the woman he had raised. The orange disappeared from his middle, their saber falling into the dirt with his own as he finally fell. Shin had just enough time to grab his head to stop it from smacking off a nearby rock.

“Shin,” Sabine’s voice was hoarse, struggling against Ahsoka’s hands on her shoulders keeping her back as she watched the Master and Apprentice in horror. Ahsoka’s gaze stayed on the two as well, though everything about her was unreadable.

“What just happened?” Ezra questioned, rubbing his head as he finally sat up, nose crinkling at the burning fabric and iron in the air.

Ahsoka’s montrals itched as a bird circled overhead; Morai swooping in to land on the young Jedi’s mop of a head as the only response. In the echo of her call, Ahsoka could hear the fight from lifetimes ago… “And now, the student will kill the Master!”

Shaking her head to clear the thought, Ahsoka held her hand out towards Ezra, both urging him to still and keep quiet as she watched the vulnerable Apprentice.

Shin was silent as they held Baylan’s head in their lap, his hand reached for the wound in his chest, blood tainting his gloves before he reached for Shin. They allowed his hand to press against the side of their face, blood smearing across angular cheekbones as he tilted their head to get a better look at them.

“This was not how I imagined I would remove your braid,” He admitted weakly, reaching next for the darkened section of burnt hair. Their chest ached from the burn on their collarbone, and from the ache of knowing what would come next for the man she owed everything to.

“Master,” Her voice wavered, crackling with emotion they did not want to share with the… not entirely enemies gathered just feet behind them.

He quieted them with a shake of his head. “Even so-“ A rasping, churning cough, pain flickering across his face as his heart still tried to pump blood to the rest of his body. “I am proud,” There was no yellow in his eyes, no darkness tainting his words- This was their Master; Baylan Skoll, their father, the man that had raised them, and they had effectively killed him, they could not understand his pride, not yet, at least. “It seems I was wrong. Your beginning is here and will move away from here as well. It seems I was the Purgill.”

The man’s eyes slid shut calmly once he had taken in his daughter’s face for the last time. His chest did not rise again as his muscles went lax, his weight fully in their lap as she reached, hesitantly placing her hand on his cheek. “Master,” She called again, though they knew it would be futile, that he was gone; from this realm at least.

Dusk was announced in the crunching of boots in the dirt, though the movement of the three at their back did not rouse them from their state. He looked calm, at least; calmer than she’d seen him since the Witch approached him with this job. Like the man they’d known when he had finally ended their working relationship with the Empire.

Sabine’s hand rested on their shoulder, just over the silver metal of their pauldron. The Mandalorian’s fingers brushed against the burn on their collarbone, sending them reeling back into their own body in a rush. “Shin,” Sabine called again as the blonde blinked, their hand raising to wipe the crustiness of old and new tears off their cheeks.

When they turned their head, they were met with Sabine kneeling at their side, Ahsoka Tano standing just behind her, though she did not look away from the old Knight’s corpse, and Ezra Bridger, kneeling in the dirt, trying to shake the pebbles and dirt from the two dropped sabers.

“You made the hard choice,” Ezra picked up at Sabine’s loss of words, a knowing sympathy in his eyes as he rose, passing both sabers to the blonde. “They don’t tell you that the hardest part is walking away after it, though.”

▬▬ι═══════>

The T-6 was silent as everyone loaded inside. Shin and Huyang were the last to step inside, both droid and Apprentice needing the time and space to offer a true goodbye to the man they had known, be it as a Jedi Knight, or as a father and a mentor.

There was no talk about Thrawn or Morgan, no words passed between the recently united family, and no words spoken between the Light and the Grey gathered in the ship. Shin had stood numbly in the doorway for a time, seeing through the bustle of movement around them, their Master’s pyre on their mind as the small crew put themselves, and each other, back together.

“Hey,” Sabine was the first to speak, voice rough as she appeared in the blonde’s swimming vision. “Come on, you’re hurt,” The Mandalorian guided Shin past Ezra, who chose the worst place to kneel and tie his boots just in front of the door, leading them to the decent sized ‘fresher added on to the ship.

A bench spanned out against the wall in the hallway sized room, a real shower taking up one end, with a nice counter full of different products for the human’s hair care, and formulas designed specifically for any species with Lekku and Montrals. Cabinets were opened in silence once Sabine managed to get Shin to settle on the bench, their shoulders hunched and back slouched into themselves, the smallest they’d felt since their Master’s biggest promise to them.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.”

Sabine’s hands were warm, hesitant, and gentle on their tunic, an exact opposite of Shin’s own when they’d pulled her armor off just weeks ago. The fabric had burned to their skin, causing Sabine’s face to twist up as she imagined the pain that Shin had long since learned to internalize.

“Can I take this off, all the way?” She asked, kneeling between Shin’s legs as her fingers searched for the clasps holding the thick outer layer in place. The nod of their head was subtle, but clear enough for Sabine to continue her path to pulling away the pauldrons and vambraces on their arms and shoulders.

The wool of her tunic pulling away from the burn was agony, ripping the dried blood and scabbing burn open slow enough to count as torture; Still, Shin remained still and stony, the only visible reaction to the pain was the quiet, sharp intake of breath and the narrowing of their pupils.

Their gloves were pulled away next to give them a moment to ease their silent pain, exposing the chipped blue paint of their nails to the world. The Mandalorian seemed to pause in surprise at the splash of color, but she stayed blissfully silent. The armor at their hips and legs were removed with care, as was the thin leather belt that rested above at their hips, all set aside on the bench in a neat pile then.

When Sabine straightened up, Shin’s hands moved immediately to the backs of her knees, a silent plea not to leave, one they would never voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Kurs’kaded,” She promised, guiding the rest of the tunic back and easing it off of their shoulders, careful on their right side, where the burn brought a stiffness and lack of ability to move. “ ‘m right here,” Her voice dropped as she set the tunic aside.

Their undershirt was still damp with sweat and crusty with both dried and new blood. It would hurt too much to try and pull it up over their head, and as much as Sabine would have wanted that three weeks ago in hyperspace, she could take no joy in those thoughts now.

Reaching for her boot, Sabine pulled a small blade from it, holding it in the palm of her hand, she waited until they saw the light glinting off the metal before proceeding. “I’m going to cut this off so it doesn’t hurt as bad,” She made sure her movements were expressed clearly as she brought the blade to the side of Shin’s throat, her fingers pressing between the fabric to create space so she didn’t nick the delicate porcelain skin concealed by fabric.

Their chest rose and fell slowly, eyes unseeing as Sabine sliced the blade through the fabric, exposing their chest painted in blood, and the purple-green bruises all around their abdomen. With a few tugs, the end of the shirt was pulled away from their skirt and pants, allowing Sabine to finish the cut and begin peeling away black dyed fabric from their torso.

Again, the singed fabric being torn away from their chest caused more rivulets of blood to race down pale skin, disappearing under the dark fabric of their chest bindings. “Sorry!” Sabine hissed for them, trying her best to be gentle as she worked the fabric down their arms.

Shin did not move or react once, even when Sabine went through the much faster process of pulling away their boots, skirt, and pants, leaving them in their underclothes with a sizable pile stacked up on the bench.

“Do you want to shower? ‘soka doesn’t fly anything with a sonic on it,” She jabbed her head to the far wall, where the small shower waited like a safe haven. Still, Shin shook their head in the negatory, they didn’t have the energy; barely had the energy to draw air into their lungs knowing that Baylan would never do the same again.

“Yeah… I get it,” Sabine sympathized quietly, head hanging as she recalled the first few weeks aboard the Eye of Sion, when she believed her own Master to be dead. “Can I clean the blood off of you at least, or do you want to, or…” The artist trailed off, unsure if the blonde would be comfortable with Sabine’s continued aid.

When Shin’s head nodded in the affirmative, Sabine’s shoulders relaxed. “Alright, thank you,” Their hands dropped away from the backs of her knees to drop bonelessly against the bench as Sabine went back to the cabinets for a rag and the alcohol to properly clean the wound.

“Can I take this off?” There was a mild flash of annoyance as the question came up again, arms tried moving to pull her bra off themselves, though a flash of pain from the stiff shoulder had them succumbing to the need of another person. When they finally nodded, Sabine apologetically moved in to undo the clasp and pull the fabric away.

Sabine did her best to keep her gaze as respectful as possible as she started wiping away the blood that had carved rivers into their pale skin, though her cheeks flushed as she followed a trail of crimson over their hardening nipple, cool air bringing goosebumps to their exposed chest and arms. “Sorry-“ She whispered in advance before dragged the cloth over sensitive skin, jumping in expected surprise when Shin’s knee jerked and a soft gasp had their lips parting. “Just a little more-“ She promised, apologetic as she continued to wipe away blood and sweat from the underside of her breast.

When Sabine was satisfied that she’d cleaned all the red away from their skin, she moved on to the medkit on the counter, looking for packets of Bacta to help ease the burn. Before she could tear the packet open, Shin’s hand shot out and wrapped around her wrists, skin cool where it touched her. Sabine’s eyebrow rose at the sudden fiery determination in their eyes. “It’ll scar…” She pointed out, a frown pulling to her lips before understanding settled in. “You want it to.”

They did not deny her assumption, nor did they confirm it, but they did not release Sabine’s hand until she tossed the packet back into the kit. “Alright, alright. Can I cover it?”

More silence and another minuscule nod of their head later and Sabine was carefully taping clean gauze across the burn. Shin would up leaning back against the cold durasteel of the wall at some point, leaving Sabine’s knees pressing into the bench as she leaned over them to patch her up. “Well, spoiler alert, I’m no doctor, but it should be alright. I’ll check on it in the morning.. if you’re hanging around that long?”

“I don’t know,” Their voice was hoarse, exhaustion dripping in each syllable as they stared at the silver of Sabine’s belt. Where would they go? Baylan was dead, Thrawn and Morgan would have them killed; not that they would ever choose to go back there.

“Well… There’s an extra bunk, you know…” There was a hint of something more, an offering that went unsaid or I can make room in mine. “I’m sure ‘soka can look past the attempted murder thing, she has before… You know, if you want to, for a while.”

Shin’s head dipped in an uncharacteristic way, their spaced-out gaze finding their hands and the chipped paint along their nails. “If I can stay, I will.”

This earned a beaming smile from the Mandalorian that almost had them regretting the decision. “Hang on, I’ll get you some clothes-“ The purple haired woman popped out of the ‘fresher. “Ezra!” She shouted into the cabin, smirking at the groan that filtered through to Shin’s ears. “Hey, can you grab a spare change of clothes from the bunks?”

“I have literally never been on this ship in my life, ‘bine.”

“It’s through that door, di’kut. Grab..” A hum from the artist as she thought of what would fit best. “the blues, I think there’s stuff in that middle drawer under the bunk that’ll work. Just absolutely don’t open the one on the right,”

A few moments of silence before there was a rustling a fabric being passed between the chosen family. “Sabine, why do you keep dicks with your stuff?” He complained, whining in the way only a vod’ika could.

“I literally told you not to look there,” She shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. The door slid shut in Ezra’s face as she took the small bundle of clothes.

“You can’t tell me not to look somewhere, and expect me to listen!” He called from the other side of the door. “Can you believe this, Huyang?”

“For Lady Wren? Yes, it is very plausible,” She heard the droid agree as she set the clothes back on the counter.

“If anything, those two will drive you nuts first,” She informed them, though there was a warm smile on her lips as she unfolded the sleep shorts and sweatshirt. “This is all I have that has a chance at fitting, pretty sure leather pants aren’t the best for sleeping in,”

“Thank you-“ Without waiting and skipping the preamble, Sabine carefully helped Shin into each article. Once the blonde’s head was popped through the neck hole of the sweatshirt, Sabine idly reached out to brush their hair back in place with her fingers.

“I’m sure we can stop somewhere and grab something that’ll fit while I fix this stuff up,” Sabine promised, patting the stack of blood soiled clothes.

The Mandalorian helped Shin up once more, again taking the lead with a gentle hand on their wrist as they rejoined everyone in the main room. Ahsoka was deep in thought at the table, a ceramic mug of tea clasped in her hands, while Ezra packed away at least three days-worth of rations across from her. “Hey, we’re gonna go lay down… long day,” She called to everyone at the table. Huyang popped his head out of his service quarters at her voice.

“Lady Hati, may I take yours and Lord Baylan’s sabers? Ezra mentioned they may have suffered damage from the environment.”

Shin’s hands tapped at their waist where the sabers should have been, though… she did not know where they could have gone, they’d been spaced out too far since Baylan’s last breath that she hadn’t kept track of them.

“Oh! Right here!” Sabine removed both sabers from the back of her belt, passing them off to Shin so they could make the final decision to pass them both to the waiting droid.

“Thank you,”

Sabine and Shin were able to retreat to the crew quarters with no further interruptions. While Sabine was preparing the bunk across from her own, Shin settled down to sit against Sabine’s own decorated bed. By the time the purple haired woman had finished, the wolf was already curled up at the foot of the thin mattress, eyes shut and face burrowed into the tooka plush Kanan had gotten her ages ago for her birthday.

“Yeah, me too,” Sabine agreed in a quiet whisper. Instead of settling into the other bunk, she dropped into the open space of her own without taking off her armor, the exhaustion of the last few weeks finally catching up from the hyperspace lane and sending the Mandalorian off to sleep.

▬▬ι═══════>

Shin’s rest was anything but restful through the night, keeping them tossing and turning, agitating the bandages on their chest until Ahsoka had finally had enough, dropping from the bed above Sabine’s almost silently, only to reach out and shake the blonde’s leg until awareness came flooding back in.

The blonde’s eyes snapped open, recoiling in near immediate fear as they processed the glow of Togrutan eyes and the distinct markings of Ahsoka Tano’s face. “Easy,” She whispered as they scrambled back on the mattress, nearly waking Sabine. She had to wonder what Baylan had been telling them about her.

She could hear the quickened thumping of their heart and the rapid rise and fall of their chest, even as they schooled their features to mask the terror. “I’m not going to hurt you,” She tried to ease, though it seemed to be the wrong move. Sabine and Ezra both shifted, beginning to stir at the commotion and the fear bleeding out into the force.

Exasperated, Ahsoka slipped out of the room to find Huyang, tinkering away at the oddest hours to pull the sediment from Baylan and Shin’s sabers. “Hey, you up for telling the kids one of your old stories?”

“They are all far from children,” He commented as he settled Baylan’s hilt onto a clean rag. “But of course, I will.” He agreed, stepping around Ahsoka and to the room.

Shin was still backed up into the corner of the bunk, her hand resting on Sabine’s wrist, over the trigger for the small rockets loaded into the vambrace , laying in wait should they need to use Sabine’s arsenal to protect themselves.

“Lady Hati,” He greeted, blinking up at Ezra when the man’s hand dropped down to smack against his head.

“ ‘bine, turn your alarm off,” He grumbled, hand limp against the droids head.

“Eat my shorts,” Sabine grumbled tiredly, shifting against the mattress with her eyes still closed, curling instinctively closer to the blonde in her bed.

“Huyang, please,” Ahsoka spoke from the doorway, the light filling in keeping er eyes dull, and only slightly less horrifying to the younger blonde.

“Of course,” He settled himself in the open bunk that Sabine had prepared hours before. “Lady Hati, your Master’s lightsaber was constructed in a style that the Jedi Order had not seen in hundreds of years…”

Huyang talked long into the night about the old Republic and the ways of the Jedi from that era, delving into a plot that had all three young adults sleeping once more, before he could even get to the interesting part. Even with Ahsoka as his only audience, Huyang continued his tale about Baylan Skoll, and the day he came in as an excited youngling and built his very first saber, and the vivid yellow-orange blade he had produced on the trip back to Coruscant.

[alexversenaberrie]

This is Hiba’s brother Kanan, another one of my OC Mandalorians you’re free to cosplay or do fan art of. Just like my other OC Mandos.

Name: Kanan Fenn Bridger-Wren

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Year of Birth: 16 ABY

Place of Birth: Knownwrest

Parents: Ezra Bridger (Father) and Sabine Wren (Mother)

Siblings: Hiba (Sister),Minerva (Sister), Eleni (Sister)

House: Kryze

Clan: Wren (Formally of House Viszla but switch affiliation with House Kryze by Countess Sabine Wren, Kanan’s mother, in 10 ABY.)

Titles: Prince of Knownwrest, Ambassador to Navarro, Knight of Kalevala, Captain of “The Ghost”, and commander pilot (During the Age of Resistance).

Appearance:

•6’3

•Light brown Skin (Middle Eastern X East Asian)

•Athletic

•Muscular

•Narrow but round face

•Jet black hair

•Blue eyes

•Shaven

Notable Skills:

•Combat: Considered prodigal in various combatant skills including hand-to-hand combat, light saber wielding, being skilled in the use of Westar 34, 35, and carbine blasters.

•Athleticism: Like the majority of his family clan, Kanan is very athletic as a result of constant training from both of his parents and from Jedi Master Ahsoka Tano.

•Intelligence: Above-average intelligence. Excelled well at both the newly reestablished Royal Academy as a youth and in training with his clan.

•Weapons Expert: Kanan is extremely talented in the field of weaponry. He can build various types of weapons for different variations of combat. They include blasters, pistols, explosives, and sabers.

•Piloting Expert: Due to constant training under General Hera Syndulla, Kanan is an expert pilot who went on to become captain of “The Ghost” during the Age of Resistance, serving both generals Leia Organa and Poe Damermon in all battles against the First Order.

•Gifted Artist: A talented inherited from his mother and maternal grandfather, Kanan is a gifted graffiti artist who is well known for painting other people’s armor with signets, decals and various colors that symbolizes their personal life stories and families histories. He has also painted his own X-Wing ship with different shades of yellow, orange, blue, and purple with imagery that symbolizes his family’s legacy and his own hopes and dreams.

Force Sensitive: Yes, like his parents and older sister. His force sensitivity has given him the ability to read minds, and feelings which allows him to properly judge people and determine if they’re either worthy of the Mandalorian people’s trust or be avoided at all costs.

Additional Information:

•Although he’s the third of four children born to Sabine and Ezra Bridger-Wren, Kanan is a twin to his sister Eleni, who was just four minutes later.

•He’s named after his father’s late friend, master and surrogate father Kanan Jarrus.

•His force sensitivity was discovered by his father not long after his older sister’s. In response, Ezra, along side his longtime friend Ahsoka Tano, decided to train his two force sensitive children to appreciate their abilities and use them for good.

•During his time at the Royal Academy in Sundari, Kanan built a super weapon he named “Carlac” after the snow-bound planet that once served as a temporary camp for Death Watch. The ice berg-shaped weapon, which was built for use by the Resistance, unlike his mother’s “Duchess” weapon, first identifies anyone who is part of the First Order or is a Sith. Then, it beams ice out of its canon, aiming for the target’s chest, causing them become stunned from an internal hypothermic onset. However, the weapon doesn’t kill them but puts into a coma-like sleep for a few hours, which gives Resistance officials time to transport their suspects to their bases or ships where they are then defrosted and awaken for interrogation.

•He’s kind, loyal, compassionate, giving, caring, and daring.

•He’s openly gay and is currently courting a male Pantoran named Quill Woves, House Kryze foundling son of Axe Woves and his Covent husband, Octavian.

•Has a tight-knit relationship with his family clan.

Strengths:

•With his expertise in combat and weaponry, Kanan is a true force to be reckoned with. Especially when it comes to use his of his lightsaber and various blasters he has on him.

•Although he’s not regarded as the Galaxy’s “best pilot” nor does he think of himself in that regard, Kanan’s piloting skills are a great asset for any given mission if he asks for assistance.

•His usage of the force allows them to see through people’s true colors to determine if they can be trusted or not.

•His knowledge on weaponry and how to build them has allowed him to create different types of weapons that serve both the Mandalorian people and the Resistance.

Weaknesses:

•His lack of diplomatic skills tends to put him at odds with politicians and generals. This can lead him to get frustrated during debates and arguments.

•Has a reputation for testing his new weapons once but not test them again through additional trials. This has caused problems with some of his weaponry inventions like not working during a mission, or just suddenly blowing up from an undetected defect that could’ve easily been fixed.

•Gets nervous to the point where he begins to suffer from panic attacks.

•Can be reckless while flying ships.

Armor:

Helmet: A typical Grunt-styled Wren helmet that Kanan inherited from a fallen Clan Wren member who died during a civil war on Mandalore. The hand painted signet on is similar to his late uncle Tristan and serves as an ode to the uncle he never got to meet.

•Chest and Neck Pieces: Inherited from the maternal artist grandfather he never got meet, Kanan’s “galaxy”-styled chest and neck armor is decorated with fulcrum and Jedi “jaig eyes” symbols in honor of his failed namesake Kanan Jarrus, and long-time family friend Ahsoka Tano, who helped train him and appreciate his force sensitivity for the good it can provide to people across the galaxy.

•Pauldrons: Similar to Prince-Consort Din Djarin-Kryze of Mandalore, Kanan’s pauldrons, forged by his future sister-in-law and Din’s daughter Princess Mirta Djarin-Kryze. The “Star Bird” signet represents his parents’s legacy and the role they played in the Rebellion while the “9” symbol represents his code name “Spectre-9”.

•Gauntlets: Similar to Axe Woves in both style and functionality but with classical Clan Wren colors and functions. They were a gift he received from his boyfriend Quill when they first started courting.

•Hand armor: Similar to his mother’s.

•Thigh Plates: Similar to Fenn Rau’s

•Knee Armor: Similar to his late maternal uncle’s but can shoot missiles out of them.

•Shin Guards: Typical Clan Wren-styled shin guards.

•Jetpack: Similar to Prince Consort Din Djarin-Kryze.

Armor Color Scheme:

•Madison

•Light Gold

•Dull Yellow

•Nickle

•Greyish Navy

•Mischka

•Silver Chalice

•Oil (a shade of brown)

•Payne's Gray

•Heather

•Blue Rhapsody

Soft Parts:

•Similar to his late maternal uncle’s but with a dull yellow Sasha around his waist.

Belt:

•Similar to his late maternal uncle’s.

Weapons in Possession:

•2 identical Westar blasters

•1 light saber with a designed that’s mix between his parents’ sabers that’s powered with a yellow kyber crystal.

Ok, he was hard to make as well. I did not know how to show his main skills/role, but then the thing that he is graffiti artist it helped to put a few things on the wall/column next to him :)

[multifandomfanfiction]

I Wanna Dance with Somebody Chapter 7

TITLE: I Wanna Dance with Somebody Chapter 7 PAIRING: Willard/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: 7/? SUMMARY: Molly has just moved to Bomont with her older brother Ren after the death of their mother. Where Ren gets into trouble, Molly tries to remain invisible. That is until an awkward country boy tries to befriend her. Can Willard help her regain the confidence she lost? And more importantly, will he help her to dance again?

Molly eyed the building warily.

Wren and Ariel wanted to have some fun, so of course they dragged Molly and Willard along with them.

Being in large crowds made Molly very uncomfortable, so she stuck close to Willard’s side. He dressed in what she would consider a very stereotypical dressy cowboy outfit with a baby blue shirt, tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a tan cowboy hat. The baby blue shirt had black designs across the shoulders and down his chest. She thought blue looked rather good on him.

By some coincidence, Molly had chosen a blue sundress with a pair of white cowboy boots that Ariel let her borrow. Molly blushed when she noticed that she and Willard matched on accident.

They entered the country themed bar and saw people dancing.

Ariel headed for the dancefloor while Willard and Molly hung back.

“Come on,” Wren said.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll watch you guys,” Willard said.

“Mols?”

Molly shook her head.

Wren turned to Ariel. “You go out there and have some fun.”

Ariel nodded and headed for the dancefloor.

Wren pulled Willard aside. “What’s the matter with you, huh? We drove two hours to get here. You’re gonna stand around and mope? You could at least ask my sister to dance!”

“I don’t dance. All right? I don’t dance.” He looked at Ariel having fun dancing and leaned in toward Wren. “I can’t dance. At all.”

“It’s country line dancing. It’s a white man’s wet dream. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” Wren pushed Molly towards Willard. “Molly can teach you. She was on our school’s dance team.”

Willard looked down at Molly. “What? You didn’t tell me that.”

Wren made his way to the dance floor, leaving Willard and Molly alone.

“You wanna go get a drink?” Willard asked.

Molly nodded and slipped her hand in his as they headed for the bar. Since they were underage, the bartender just gave them sodas.

“You look real pretty tonight,” Willard told her.

Molly blushed. She pulled out her phone and typed in a message. You look very handsome. Blue looks good on you.

This time Willard blushed.

Communicating through phone had become their thing since Molly still wasn’t comfortable speaking in front of people. She only spoke to Willard when they were alone and even then, it was in short sentences.

They watched Ariel and Wren dance for a while.

Molly tapped Willard’s soda can and pointed to the bar.

“You want another?” he asked.

Molly nodded.

“Comin’ right up, darlin’.”

As Willard walked away, she grabbed his hat and put it on her head. While she was waiting for Willard, a young man walked up to her.

“Hey darlin’. You’re lookin’ pretty tonight.”

She glanced over her shoulder, looking for Willard.

“What’s your name?”

Molly tried moving away from him, but he grabbed her wrist.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Molly wanted to scream at him to let her go, but she couldn't. She tried pulling away from him, but he only tightened his grip.

“Hey! Get your hands off her!” Willard yelled, pushing through the crowd. He punched the guy in the face.

The man let go and Willard turned to Molly. “You okay?”

She nodded and looked for Wren, who was still on the dance floor with Ariel. Molly was too distracted to see the man grab Willard and punch him, sending him to the floor. Molly gasped and looked around for a weapon. She saw a beer bottle and broke it over the man’s head, before dropping to her knees beside Willard.

His cheekbone was starting to swell and he would definitely have a shiner come tomorrow.

Tears filled her eyes. This was all her fault. If only she had the courage to speak then Willard wouldn’t have had to be her knight in shining armor and he wouldn’t have gotten punched.

“Molly?” Willard asked.

Molly shook her head and fled the bar.

“Molly!”

Molly made it the car with Willard hot on her heels.

“Where are you going?” Willard asked, “Wren has the keys.”

“My fault…” she whispered.

“What?”

Molly turned to Willard and placed a hand on his cheek. “My fault.”

“No. No, darlin’. Nothing that happened tonight is your fault. He shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Willard wrapped his arms around her. “It’s not your fault. I promise.”

But Molly couldn’t shake the guilt she felt.

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @urmomssidehoeposts @multiple-fandoms-girl @shiny-captain-no-pants @lizzylynch1 @imheresohi​ @vhaenen

[yuristarwars]

Boba Fett Headcanons

Before working with Jabba and the Empire, he actually worked closely with rebel and insurgent factions that paid him well enough. As a matter of fact, Saw Gerrera sends him on a job to kidnap a high-ranking ISB agent, which gets him both the attention of the Empire and Jabba the Hutt

He’s met clones while he’s out hunting before. He never talks or takes off his helmet, but he pays for their meal or drink and walks aways like a ghost in the knight

His armor is a fusion of durasteel and beskar that he got from an old job on Mandalore

Sabine Wren is one of the few Mandalorians he genuinely respects. Her art and ability to stand up to the Empire is inspirational and reminds him of his younger self painting his armor green and getting a specially dyed cape

Garsa Fwip used to be slave at Jabba’s palace, but after he saw some clients being rough with her, he kills them and sets her free

Like Red Hood, he’s got a bomb built into his helmet so that way if someone ever tries to take it, it’ll be the last thing they see.

The only Jedi he’s ever met have been Cal Kestis and Luke Skywalker, but he sent a message to @jabba-the-hutt on the holonet and got sent back a pretty bad selfie of a young, blue-haired Jedi saying, “who dis?” Boba still doesn’t know who he is.

Boba once saw some people beating their massiff and he figured he didn’t need any credits for this job.

[malarkay]

Inside the Wire Chapter 14

During their final battle with the Storm Hawks, Cyclonis is stopped just short of destroying the Dark Ace. Victory, however, eludes them. With Cyclonia fallen, and escape to the Farside cut off, they're forced to confront the consequences of their actions.

~Three years after the fall of Cyclonia~

Piper surreptitiously wiped her sweaty palms against her pants legs, eyes fixed on the small crowd of reporters, scientists, and relief organization leaders that had gathered to watch the unveiling of the ASE.  The Rebel Ducks were also out in that crowd, along with Wren and Dove.  She worried about Wren.  He looked so much older than he had when she first met him, not even five years ago.  He looked tired.  The destruction of Terra Gale had hit him hard.  

The crowd was huddled under a large canopy of heavy canvas.  A second canopy covered the makeshift stage, where she, the rest of the Storm Hawks, and the Sky Knight Council were gathered.  The canopies, however, did nothing to protect them from the icy wind.  It bit right through her uniform as if she were wearing nothing at all.  She looked away from the crowd and toward Aerrow.  Radarr, perched shivering on Aerrow’s lap, gave her a disgruntled look.  He stopped hugging himself long enough to make a sweeping gesture toward the podium, his chittering a clear demand to just start already.  “I’m waiting for the weather to die down a little before we start,” she told him apologetically.  “Besides,” she smiled, “this makes for a good demonstration.”  Radarr did not look impressed.

Black cumulonimbus clouds towered above them, overshadowing the terra and making the gray sky look even darker.  Streaks of red lightning flickered within those clouds, and walnut-sized hailstones rained down from them.  They had to wait out the hailstorm before she could properly address the crowd.  Even with a microphone, it would be difficult to hear her over the din of the hailstones battering the canopies and pinging against the hulls of the nearby ships.

After another few minutes, the hail died down.  Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the podium, tapping the microphone to make sure it was on.  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you all here today to the unveiling of a device that, I believe, will profoundly impact thousands of lives for the better,” she began.  Her proclamation was met with polite applause from the crowd and much more raucous clapping and whistling from Aerrow, Finn and Junko.  She grinned over at them before continuing her speech.  Later, she wouldn’t remember a word she said.  All she knew was that people clapped at the appropriate places, it was over faster than she anticipated, and then it was time for the demonstration.  

She looked up at the ASE, a twisting spire of silver metal that towered above them.  She had made some significant alterations to the original design to make the aesthetic less Cyclonian.  That had been Cyclonis’ idea, and after the disaster with the Atmosian Academy of Crystal Tech, she’d readily agreed to redesign the outer casing.  After all, the ASE should radiate an aura of hopefulness, not intimidation.  It had ended up looking pretty cool if she did say so herself.

Opening her satchel, she carefully retrieved the ASE’s power source from within.  It was a diamond-shaped crystal the colour of the sun and the size of a grown man’s fist.  The crystal glowed brightly as she held it up like an offering to the ASE and willed it to float out of her hands and up, up, up to the little alcove that sat just below the top of the spire.  As it nestled into place, the ASE activated. Light pulsed from the top of the spire, fanning out in all directions, and the storm dissipated.  The clouds burned away, the wind slowed to a moderate breeze, and the sky turned a dazzling blue.  The air began to warm to a comfortable temperature as the sun’s rays touched down onto a terra that had not felt sunlight in who knows how long.  

If she didn’t have the crowd’s attention before, she certainly had it now.  They inundated her with questions, too many coming at her too quickly, and all on top of one another.  She put her hands up, gesturing for them to quiet down.  “I’m happy to answer any questions you have later.  But first, Chairman Tern would like to say a few words.”

She ceded the microphone to the Chairman, then went to sit with her squad, who all gave her back pats as she passed them.  “You did great, Piper!” Junko told her enthusiastically, shooting her two thumbs up, and she smiled and thanked him.

The Chairman’s speech was all about how historic this event was and how the Council pledged to build more ASEs for the refugees who lost their homes in the war and had yet to find new ones.  Nine terras would be transformed, and the necessary infrastructure would be put into place to turn each into a self-sustaining community.  He ended his speech by officially naming today’s terra New Gale.

The Chairman waved her back to the podium, and she spent the next hour answering questions from the crowd.  Trying not to mention a certain Cyclonian’s name to the press when discussing the development of the ASE was exhausting, but they had agreed that it was for the best.  Fielding the scientists’ more technical questions was easier.

When the Q&A session was over, she met up with the guys, who had bailed on the science stuff to talk to the Rebel Ducks.  “The hero of the hour!” Florian, the Sky Knight of the Ducks, greeted her as the rest of his squadron cheered.  Dove nearly knocked her over with the force of her hug before moving aside to let Wren take her place.  He took her by the shoulders, smiling up at her with glistening eyes before pulling her in to kiss one cheek, then the other.  

“This means so much to us,” he told her as he embraced her.  “So much.  Thank you.” ~*~*~

The demonstration of the ASE was today, Piper had told her.  She didn’t want to wait to hear how it went, but it was a weekday, and she wasn’t allowed to take her radio out of the cell block.  There was only one solution: feign being sick.  No doubt she would have to endure an angry tirade from Ravess later for sticking them with extra work, but it would be worth it.

Waiting in line after breakfast, she hunched over a little, arms crossed across her stomach.  A passing guard stopped when he noticed.  “Alright, what are you hiding?” he asked.

“I’m not hiding anything; I’m just not feeling well,” she told him.  

“Sure you aren’t,” he said skeptically.  He beckoned her out of line.  “You know the drill,” he said.  She planted her feet shoulder-width apart and put her hands on her head, making sure to grimace a bit in pain as she straightened.  When his search didn’t turn up anything, he frowned.  “Sick, huh?” he said, still sounding like he didn’t believe her.  

“Stomachache,” she confirmed.

“Scale of one to ten?”

She deliberated for a moment before settling on a number.  “Seven.”

He scratched his chin, considering her answer.  “Alright.  I’ll walk you to the infirmary.”

At the infirmary, a cursory exam and a few tests didn’t turn up anything obviously wrong with her.  The medic hadn’t heard of any viruses going around but conceded that she could have eaten something that had gone off.  She was given the day to recuperate and sent back to her cell.  Once she was locked in and the guard had left, she clicked on her radio and tuned it to the proper station, keeping the volume low.

Lying back on her cot, she laced her hands behind her head as she settled in to listen.  

She grinned a little as Piper gave her opening speech.  She sounded really nervous and spoke too fast, but she got through it.  She should have given her a few pointers on public speaking, but she hadn’t thought she’d need them.  She always seemed so effortlessly good at everything….  

It was a good thing she wasn’t actually sick, or she would have made herself gag with that thought.  Her feelings for Piper hadn’t changed, despite the fact that the inevitable had happened and she and that Sky Knight were together.  She’d accepted that relationship in the same way she accepted everything else that had happened to her these last few years.  Through gritted teeth.  What she did not have to accept were stupid, fawning, lovesick thoughts like the one she’d just had.  She had to nip that in the bud.  What if she slipped up and said something like that to her out loud?  She’d rather jump off the edge of the terra without a parachute. 

She refocused her attention on the radio.  There was a prolonged silence, followed by a loud murmur of wonder from the crowd.  The reporter who was covering the event gave a brief description of what he had just witnessed, and she smiled.  It sounded like the ASE was working perfectly.  Piper had tested it out beforehand, obviously, so they knew it should.  But something working during the trial run didn’t always translate to it working when it mattered.  The more complex the machine, the truer that became.  And the ASE was quite complex.  She knew they had both been nervous that it would fail them today and was glad their fear was unfounded.

She frowned when Piper passed the microphone onto the Chairman and rolled her eyes when he began to speak.  Leave it to the Sky Knight Council to take credit for something it had nothing to do with.  The Council hadn’t designed the ASE.  It hadn’t built it.  Even the funding the Chairman was pledging to use now wasn’t Atmosian; it was reparations from Cyclonia.  She took a deep breath, trying not to let her mood be soured by the Council inserting itself into her and Piper’s project.  But it was difficult.

She rolled her eyes even harder when the Chairman dubbed the terra New Gale.  Did the Galeans really have to be granted the first transformed terra?  They couldn’t have named it New Cascade instead?  In her estimation, there were people more deserving of a permanent home than those rabble-rousing miscreants, like widows with five young children to support.  She took another deep breath and reminded herself that it wasn’t her decision to make.  

Thankfully, the Chairman’s contribution to the proceedings ended there, and Piper returned to answer questions.  The demonstration’s success seemed to have done wonders for her nerves because she sounded much more natural and relaxed.  She enjoyed listening to Piper talk as much as she always did, enough that it almost didn’t hurt that she was getting no credit for the invention.  She took a third deep breath.  That was what they had agreed upon.  It was necessary if they wanted to see the project through to its completion, and that was more important than her ego.  She needed to remember that.  She glanced at the photo of her grandmother she kept tacked to the wall above the sink and whispered the mantra she had adopted when she decided to pursue these projects with Piper.  

“I’m not you.”

The next evening, she bummed the daily paper and a stick of gum off one of the guards.  Chewing the gum, she tore the article that hailed the ASE as ‘groundbreaking’ from the newspaper with painstaking care.  She stuck the wad of gum to the back of the article and tacked it on the wall next to a feature about the vapour mills.  

Another success under their belts.

~*~*~

~Four years after the fall of Cyclonia~

The Seraph Spectator

Amazonia Stands By Controversial Action Despite Sky Knight Council’s Charter Threat

By: Baz Taghavi

Terra Amazonia finds itself the center of controversy following a violent clash between the forces of Chieftess Antiope and insurgents that left nineteen, including insurgency leader Nikoleta, dead. The inclusion of the Screaming Queens in the skirmish drew sharp criticism from several fellow Sky Knight squadrons as well as the Council itself.  

“It is a Sky Knight’s sworn duty to protect all citizens under his guardianship,” Harrier, the Sky Knight of the Rex Guardians, said. Harrier, no stranger to controversy after his involvement in the polarizing trial and sentencing of the former empress of Cyclonia and her top general, continued, “To take up arms against them, except as a last resort to save innocent lives, is an egregious violation of The Code.”

Chairman Tern of the Sky Knight Council echoed the sentiment. “The politicization of Sky Knight squadrons will not be tolerated. These squadrons exist to protect their people from external threats. They are not the government’s personal mercenaries.”

When asked how the Council intends to address the issue, the Chairman had this to say. “We are in the process of discussing possible diplomatic sanctions against Amazonia, which could include the revocation of the Screaming Queens’ charter.”

If the Screaming Queens’ charter were revoked, they would no longer be recognized as an official Sky Knight squadron and would lose all the rights and privileges that come along with the title.

Chieftess Antiope remains steadfast in the face of the Sky Knight Council’s censure, maintaining that her actions aimed to restore law and order to a terra besieged by insurrectionists who posed a clear danger to law-abiding citizens.  “This was an Amazonian matter, and it was handled as such,” Antiope defended.  “Atmosia and the Sky Knight Council have no business involving themselves in sovereign affairs uninvited.  The Screaming Queens are, and will continue to be, Amazonia’s Sky Knight squadron, with or without their charter.”

Terran governments across the Atmos are divided on the issue.  While some have come out in support of the Sky Knight Council, others have voiced concerns that it is overstepping the boundaries of its authority.  With no clear consensus for or against the proposed sanctions, only time will tell what the Council will choose to do.  

~*~*~

“I hear the Council actually went through with it,” Cyclonis said once the greetings were out of the way.

Piper frowned.  The Screaming Queens’ charter revocation had made quite a few waves, and for good reason.  Only twice before had a Sky Knight squadron had their charter revoked, and both times, the situation had been much more cut and dry.  The Council’s decision to go through with it now was proving to be fairly unpopular.

“The Council did what it thought was right,” Aerrow said.

“And what do you think?” Cyclonis asked him.

“What do you?” he shot back.

“I think if it were me, and one of my governors put down a rebellion on their terra, I would commend them on a job well done.  Problems tend to spread; it’s best to stop them early.”

“In that case, I agree with the Council’s decision,” he said flippantly.

Cyclonis exhaled sharply.  “A thoughtful response, as always.”

“You know I don't like talking politics with you.”

“The world won't end if you admit that you agree with me occasionally.”

“I'd rather not test that.”

“Can we not talk about Amazonia?” she cut in finally, pulling cups and a jug out of the bag they had brought with them.  “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”  Since their last visit, the ninth and final ASE had been successfully activated.  She poured the drinks and slid one of the cups over to Cyclonis.

“What is this?”

“It's a juice blend,” she answered, careful not to glance at the guard and raise any suspicions.  “Finn insisted on mixing it up for his birthday.”

Cyclonis eyed the cup dubiously.  “That was a couple of weeks ago.  Is it still good?”

“It's very well preserved,” Aerrow smirked.

She raised her cup, and the other two followed suit.  “To the successful completion of our project,” she toasted before taking a careful sip.  Cyclonis’ sip was much less careful, leaving her spluttering and coughing hard enough to draw the guard’s attention.

“Everything okay over there?” he asked from his place at the door.

Cyclonis waved off his concern.  Or was it suspicion?  “Swallowed wrong,” she claimed after recovering.  Then, to them, she asked more quietly, “What's in this?”

“Yes,” Aerrow answered with an amused grin.

“You could have warned me!”

“We did warn you,” Aerrow said.

“When?”

“‘Finn.  Birthday.  Well-preserved,” she pointed out.  “I thought you got it!”

“I didn't!”

“Clearly,” she laughed, which set off Aerrow, too.  Cyclonis’ reaction to their laughter was predictable.  “We had the same reaction when we first tried it,” she said to smooth things over as Cyclonis glared at them in offence.  “Finn has a heavy hand.”

Cyclonis’ glare didn't abate.  Instead, she snatched her cup back up and drained it in one go, her only reaction this time a suppressed grimace as she set the cup down and slid it back across the table at them.

“Wow,” Aerrow said, still grinning, and picked up the jug to refill the cup.

“Aerrow, no,” she told him.

Aerrow hesitated, but Cyclonis gestured for him to continue.

“Cyclonis, no!”  But neither of them listened to her.  “This was just supposed to be a fun little toast!  You’re going to get us all in trouble,” she warned them as Aerrow handed over the refilled cup to Cyclonis.

“We are having fun.  And no one’s getting in trouble.  I can handle myself, and even if he does start getting suspicious, he's cool,” Cyclonis insisted, with a little side nod toward the guard.

She mentally questioned how well Cyclonis could handle herself, considering she'd never heard her refer to anyone as ‘cool’ before, least of all one of the guards.  

“See?  We’re having fun,” Aerrow agreed, offering to top off her drink.  She put her hand over her cup and shook her head, and he topped up his own cup instead.

They were right, though.  The rest of the visit was fun.  She relaxed and finished her drink as they talked about nothing of any real importance.  Aerrow and Cyclonis always got along better when they loosened up a little, and Finn’s concoction certainly helped with that.  It turned out that Cyclonis got downright giggly when she had a couple of drinks in her.  She smiled, though she felt a little sad at the discovery.  She always got a little melancholic whenever Cyclonis said or did something so Lark-like that it made her realize all over again how little she'd actually been acting that day.

It wasn't until Aerrow tried to finish off the jug by dividing it between the three of them that the guard cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him.  The guard shook his head.  A bit sheepishly, Aerrow stoppered the jug and stowed it and the empty cups back in their bag.  It seemed even the cool guards had a limit, and the limit, in this case, was two drinks.

The meeting drew to a close not long after that.  Even with just one drink, she felt a little lightheaded as she got up alongside Aerrow.  Cyclonis stood, too.  Or tried to, at least.  She hadn’t quite made it all the way up before dropping back onto her chair.  She couldn't blame her.  She remembered leaving Finn’s party to go to her room, needing a break.  She had intended to rejoin the festivities once she felt a little less dizzy, but she’d made the mistake of sprawling out across her bed and was quickly lulled to sleep by the slow spinning of the ceiling above her instead.  She'd woken up the next morning, having not moved a muscle all night, her mouth as dry as the desert and her head pounding.  That had been after three cups of the stuff.  Aside from Stork and Radarr, the boys had woken up in even worse conditions.  It had not been a good morning to be aboard the Condor.

The guard snorted, shaking his head as he walked over to the table.  “This was a one-time-only thing,” he said, his voice casual, but the look he gave her and Aerrow made it clear he expected compliance without any arguments.

They nodded in agreement.

Satisfied, the guard turned his attention to Cyclonis.  “Let's try that again, lightweight,” he told her, taking her by the elbow to steady her when she stood.  She stayed standing this time, shaking off his support once she had her feet under her.  

“I’m fine,” she claimed, and after one last round of goodbyes, they parted ways until next time.

~*~*~

~Five years after the fall of Cyclonia~

She glanced down at the newspaper's front page, the headline immediately grabbing her attention.  A sick sense of glee flooded her, and she couldn't help the laughter that escaped her at that moment.

"Knock it off," the guard who'd handed over the paper ordered.  "You're creeping me out."

Ignoring him, she turned to head back to her cell and found that her outburst had caught everyone's attention.

"What happened?" Snipe asked.

"Whose death are we celebrating?" Ravess astutely followed up on her brother's question.

Ace remained silent, but his smile was one of anticipation.  She grinned at him, one that felt almost foreign to her now, though it had once been so familiar, as she held up the paper so he could read the headline.  His dark laughter set hers off again.  

"You guys are demented," the guard complained from behind her but didn't make any further attempt to quell them.

"Who died?" Ravess asked again, annoyed at being kept out of the loop.

"Chairman Tern," she answered, the glee settling down into a feeling of satisfaction.

"Oh, that is gratifying," Ravess said, a smug smirk replacing her annoyance.

"Who's that?" Snipe asked, prompting the swift return of Ravess' annoyance.

"The head of the Sky Knight Council," Ravess told him.  He still looked lost, so she went on.  "The frail old man you threatened to squash like a bug when he told you you were going to prison for twenty years?"

"Oh, him!  Wait, does that mean we don't have to be in jail anymore?"

"No, you idiot, that's not how that works.”

"Oh," he said, disappointed.  That news quickly killed his interest in the conversation, and he disappeared back into his cell.

Handing off the newspaper to Ravess so that she’d leave them alone, she went back to her cell, taking a seat on her cot.  Ace followed, sitting beside her.

“Congratulations on outliving your first enemy,” he said, gently nudging her.

“You, too.”

“Technically, he isn't the first enemy I've outlived, but thank you.”

Silence settled between them.  The joy she'd felt at the news was beginning to fade, replaced with a feeling that wasn't guilt so much as an acknowledgment that she should feel guilty.  She knew what the Storm Hawks would say.  They'd say it was wrong to celebrate someone’s death, that it wasn't something good people did.  But the self-recrimination she tried to muster up in response to her initial reaction wouldn't come.  The fact of the matter was that she was happy Tern was dead, even if that happiness was slightly dampened by the unwelcome turn her thoughts had taken.  She, more than most, had every right to celebrate his passing.  He was the reason she'd been imprisoned here now for twice as long as she'd ruled her empire.  He was why she'd be imprisoned here for the rest of her life.  She knew what the Storm Hawks would say to that, too.  

“You’re thinking too loudly.”

She shrugged.

“Do you still wish they had executed you?” 

She frowned at the question.  Dying would have been easier.  She believed that now more than ever.  The past five years felt like a lifetime, and that was just a fraction of the time that still stretched out in front of her.  But….

Her eyes travelled to the little collection of newspaper articles that papered the wall, displayed right next to the photo of her grandmother.  She may have lost her life’s purpose when Cyclonia fell, but she had been lucky enough to find a new one.  Perhaps a better one, though something deep inside her twinged painfully at that thought.  Her gaze flicked over to Ace, then down.  Not everyone was as lucky in that regard.

“No,” she finally answered, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she did.  Tension she hadn't noticed him holding onto drained out of him at her response.  She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.  “Do you?” she asked, even though she dreaded his response.  She held her breath as she awaited it.

“No,” he said after a moment's deliberation.  She exhaled, choosing to believe that he was telling her the truth.  He draped an arm around her shoulders, his hold tightening into a brief side hug before loosening enough to allow her to escape whenever she grew tired of the contact.

They stayed like that for a long time.

~*~*~

The funeral of Chairman Tern was a massive event.  Aerrow had never seen anything like it.  

An entire day had been dedicated to the Chairman lying in state, the Storm Hawks tasked with guarding the casket as throngs of people passed through the Council Hall to pay their respects: Sky Knight squadrons, dignitaries, and civilians alike.  He had worried initially that he would have trouble with Finn.  While he was growing up and getting better with responsibilities, he was still a work in progress. Complaining whenever he was stuck with a boring job was still one of his favourite pastimes, and there was no denying that the job they'd been given was boring.  They’d had to stand at attention, still and silent, as they watched the line of people pass by.  It was a recipe for disaster.  But Finn had surprised him, doing the job with all the seriousness it demanded and no complaints.  It helped that there were five of them when only four guards were needed.  It allowed them to take rotating breaks throughout the day.  It also helped that Finn had been the one to spot and tackle a protester who had slipped past security outside, stopping him before he could deface the white casket with the electric red soda he was about to throw at it.  Finn had ended up covered in the soda instead, earning an extra break so he could get cleaned up before returning to duty.  Aerrow thought he might have milked that break a little, but not enough for him to prove it even if he wanted to.  Overall, the day had gone off without a hitch.

The next day was the funeral itself.  Tern was eulogized by Councilman Griffin, his square jaw tight with grief, his baritone voice adding to the gravitas of his speech.  He learned things about the Chairman he had never known before, like how he and Griffin had been Sky Knights together when they were younger, Griffin leading the Rex Guardians while Tern led the Red Eagles.  He wondered if that's why the Chairman had been so willing to believe that Carver hadn't betrayed them of his own free will.  He learned that he had been married for 48 years before illness claimed his wife and that he had lost a son and a daughter in the fight against Cyclonia.  Hearing that put his attitude toward the Cyclonians into perspective.  He slipped his hand into Piper’s, holding on tight.  His nightmares, when he had them, were almost always about losing the people he loved the most.  He didn't want to think about what that must feel like for real.

Once the eulogy was complete, six burly pallbearers lifted the casket and carried it outside, where the procession from the Council Hall to the Sky Knight Memorial began.  The Storm Hawks and the Sky Knight Council followed along behind.  The route to the memorial was lined with security to keep the way clear from mourners and protesters.  Above them hovered a news ship, multiple cameras pointed at the procession below, broadcasting the funeral to all corners of the Atmos.  It didn't take long to reach their destination.  The memorial itself was a large marble wall inscribed with names.  Flanking the wall were two ornate cauldrons that burned with eternal flames.  A raised stone platform sat a short distance in front of it.  The pallbearers carried the casket up the steps of the platform before lowering it down into a deep depression carved into the stone.  

As they did, the three remaining Councilmembers lit torches from the cauldrons and carried them up the steps, observing a moment of silence before tossing the torches into the depression.  By the time they and the pallbearers had descended the steps, the casket was fully engulfed in flame.  Reaching a safe distance from the blaze, they turned and snapped to attention.  As one, the Councilmembers, pallbearers, and Storm Hawks saluted the Chairman one last time.  

The fire would be allowed to burn itself out.  Once it did, and the ashes had cooled, they would be carefully collected for later scattering.  And finally, Tern’s name would be added to the wall, carefully chiselled into the marble by one of Atmosia’s most skilled artisans.

That evening, he was invited to attend a private, Sky-Knights-only gathering at The Galleon, a pub that was known for catering to a high-end clientele of Sky Knights, politicians, and other wealthy Atmosians.  He'd never been before.

A lot of Sky Knights, current and retired, were in attendance.  Griffin and some of the other oldtimers took turns regaling everyone with old war stories and tales of scrapes they had gotten into with, and sometimes against, each other.  All of the stories were kept lighthearted.  No one wanted to bring down the mood.  They'd all had enough of that over the past few days.

“Those were the good old days,” Harrier said wistfully after one of the retired Sky Knights finished a particularly gripping tale of heroism.

“Harrier, you're what?  Thirty-five?  What do you know of the good old days?” Councilman Amsel teased him.

“Enough to see how fast everything is going downhill,” Harrier said.  “Decorum has gone straight out the window.  Just look at the protestors who tried to disrupt Chairman Tern’s funeral.  Completely inappropriate.  And over what?  Some petty disagreements over a decision the Council made?”

“People have a right to protest,” Suzy Lu pointed out.  

“There's a time and a place,” Harrier argued.  “And this wasn’t it.  But that’s not the point.  The point is that we used to be able to put aside our differences for the common good.  We used to be a united front.  What happened?”

“The war ended,” Griffin said simply.

“So that's it, then?  We don't need each other anymore?”

“How much have you had to drink?” Suzy Lu asked, prompting quite a bit of laughter from the people within earshot.

He looked quizzically at Starling, who he had been sticking close to all night.  “Harrier’s known for getting a bit melodramatic when he's drunk,” she quietly explained to him, and he nodded in understanding.

“Stop trying to make everything a joke,” Harrier chided Suzy Lu.  “War or no war, there’s strength in unity.”

Suzy Lu bared her teeth at Harrier’s tone.  “You sound like a Cyclonian.”

Harrier glared right back at her.  “Because I believe our terras should be more closely allied, not less?  That's absurd.”

“How much closer do we need to be, eh?  If Rex needs help, just ask, and Blizzaris’ll be there.  That’s allies in my book.”

“How’d that work out for us against the Cyclonians?”

“Pretty good, I’d say.  We won, didn’t we?”

“Thanks to the Storm Hawks!”

A bunch of eyes turned toward him.  Awkwardly, he smiled and waved, not knowing what else to do. Starling silently laughed at him.  She had the decency to try to hide it by taking a long drink, but he saw.  He grinned and shrugged at her when everyone turned their attention back to Harrier as he went on.

“It wouldn’t hurt to band together more officially.  What if the Cyclonians decide to stop honouring the treaty?  What if some other greedy little warlord decides to try their hand at world domination?”

“I’m sure if you asked Antiope, she’d agree.  Only she’d say it’s the Sky Knight Council you gotta be worried about.”

“Let me make one thing clear: We have no desire to take over the world,” Councilman Canastero said.  A rumour had spread through the pub earlier that he was going to be named the new Chairman of the Sky Knight Council.  They were just waiting for the official week-long mourning period to end before announcing it.

“Let's not digress.  My point is that we were ill-prepared to fight off a full-scale invasion last time, as much as I hate to admit it.  And instead of coming together so that nothing like that could ever happen again, we just seem to be growing further apart.  Doesn’t that worry anyone else?”

He exchanged a glance with Starling.  She tilted her head with a look that said she was surprised that Harrier was making a valid argument.  Conversation buzzed around them as everyone began voicing their own opinion on the subject.  

“You know, Cyclonis sides with Antiope,” he told Starling with a little grin.

She snorted.  “Why am I not surprised?  You should tell Harrier; it’ll make him feel vindicated.”

He considered that for a minute before shaking his head.  “I'd rather stay out of this.”

“Agreed.”

~*~*~

~Six years after the fall of Cyclonia~

“I guess this was inevitable,” Piper said as she passed the morning paper to Aerrow.  The day's top story was about the Tribal Council of Amazonia proposing a referendum to cut all diplomatic and economic ties with Atmosia and its closest allies.

The others read over Aerrow’s shoulder.  Finn was the first to respond, “It’s not like it’ll be that big a loss, right?  Terra Amazonia’s pretty and all, but that's all they've really got going for them.”

“Except they're one of Atmos’ largest suppliers of fuel and energy crystals,” she pointed out.

“And there are several medications that can only be derived from plants native to the terra,” Stork added.  “Including the cure for Scarponian Sleeping Sickness.”

“And cinnamon!  And vanilla!” Junko said before gasping.  “And chocolate!”

“Okay,” Finn drawled.  “I guess they have more going for them than I thought.”

“Not to mention that if this referendum passes, it could start a chain reaction of other terras following,” Aerrow said grimly, and Piper couldn't help but smile at his shrewd observation, even though this was no smiling matter.

“Exactly what I’m worried about,” she agreed.

“How likely is that?” Finn asked.

“If they're ready to cut us off entirely, they must be confident that others will join them.  Otherwise, they’d just be hurting themselves.  Unless they've already signed a trade agreement with the Cyclonians.”

“The Cyclonians don't exactly have their act together,” Aerrow said, which was and wasn't true.  The Cyclonians had put forward several self-governance proposals in recent years, only to have each one struck down for one reason or another.  Protests against the Atmosian-led interim government were becoming widespread throughout the Cyclonian territories as more people began questioning the ‘interim’ part.  If the Amazonian referendum passed, it could lead to the loss of other allies and give the Cyclonians the push they needed to demand the end of Atmosian interference once and for all.

“Well, the vote is next month, so they must really feel sure of themselves,” she said.  “And if it does pass, things are going to change forever.”

Her words hung heavy in the air.  Slowly, everyone’s eyes slid over to Stork.

“What?  Are you all expecting me to say we’re doomed?” “Well?  Aren’t you?” Junko asked.

“I’m withholding judgement.”

Finn scrubbed his hands through his hair at Stork’s words.  “Oh man, we’re doomed!”

~*~*~

~Eight years after the fall of Cyclonia~

The last two years had been full of upheaval, as everything they feared would happen did happen.  But as the dust settled, Piper realized things hadn’t turned out that bad.  Different, yes, but not bad.

Amazonia’s referendum had passed, and many terras followed in their footsteps, including Aquanos, Saharr, Blizzaris and Nord.  They had formed a loose confederation of terras who maintained complete autonomy over their terras' governance and Sky Knight squadrons.  According to what she had heard from Suzy Lu, they did have ambassadors who would come together to form conclaves whenever an issue that affected the alliance at large arose, but none had been called so far.  Otherwise, the only thing connecting them was a free trade agreement and a promise to provide mutual aid in times of need.

Atmosia and its remaining allies had responded by strengthening their bonds and rebranding themselves as The Atmosian Federation.  The keystone members of the Federation were Atmosia, Rex, Mesa, and New Gale.  All of the transformed terras had remained, with the exception of New Ost.  Terra Ost had always had strong ties to Blizzaris and Nord and had opted to go where they went.  Zartacla, Seraph, and the Stockade all remained under the Federation's jurisdiction.

The Sky Knight Council expanded and became, simply, the Sky Council.  A representative from each terra sat on the Council, whose primary role was to legislate common laws for the Federation.  Canastero and Amsel remained as the representatives from Atmosia and New Gale, with Canastero heading the Council as Chairman.  Harrier retired from his role as Sky Knight when the Federation formed and was immediately appointed Rex’s representative by the terra’s High Lord.  He had taken to his new role like a duck to water, unlike Mesa’s representative, who had to be dragged into it kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking.  Terra Mesa's governor finally gave Starling an ultimatum: Rebuild the Interceptors and serve as their Sky Knight, retire, or join the Council.  Unwilling to choose a new squadron but not ready for retirement, she has reluctantly chosen the third option.

The Cyclonian territories, which still referred to themselves collectively as Cyclonia despite the terra itself no longer standing, had finally wrestled the self-governance they had sought for so long from the Federation, in no small part thanks to modelling themselves after the Federation, with a few cosmetic differences.  Instead of a Council and a Chairman, they had a Parliament and a Chancellor.  Each terra now had a governor who was elected by the people instead of appointed by the Master.  Each governor served as their terras representative to Parliament, and collectively, they agreed upon the laws and policies that would bind the Cyclonian terras together.  Their Chancellor served as facilitator during sessions and lent their seal to legislation as it was passed, but they were largely a figurehead.  They didn't possess the same kind of veto or special wartime powers the Atmosian Chairman did.  But the Cyclonian people, so used to being ruled by an autocrat, seemed more comfortable when they had someone who appeared to serve a similar function as the Master. 

All of the terras who had prided themselves on their independence before continued to do so now.  Neon, Tropica, Wallop, Bogaton, Xerxxes, Glockenchime and more tried and largely succeeded at maintaining friendly relations with the different factions that had popped up throughout the Atmos.  

And after a few skirmishes and scuffles and growing pains, the different factions did the same.  Once it became clear that no one had any desire to expand their influence any further than they already had, everyone settled into an unofficial truce, and all of Atmos was able to enjoy their hard-earned peace at last.

~Ten years after the fall of Cyclonia~

In a barren stretch of sky between Terras Ray and Greemus, the air was rent as if slashed by an invisible claw.  The tear in the very fabric of space rapidly expanded into a large portal.  Three long, serpentine creatures, each bearing a rider, emerged from the portal into the reddish predawn light.  The riders brought their draconic mounts to a halt, hovering in midair as the creatures beat their powerful wings to keep them aloft.  They conversed briefly through a series of hand gestures before the middle one flicked their reins, continuing east.  The other two peeled off in opposite directions, one going north, the other south.  

The portal expanded further, and a large ship slowly passed through.  It was unlike anything that had ever been seen in Atmosian skies.  The ship itself was like something out of a storybook, a great, multi-decked wooden vessel designed to cut through waves, not clouds.  Yet it was held in the sky via a series of steel cables connecting it to a zeppelin as large as it was.  

Four more ships soon joined it.  They were smaller, single-decked, and bore six gun ports for crystal cannons per side, along with bow and stern chasers.  They appeared lighter, faster, and more maneuverable as they surrounded the larger ship, providing an escort as it lumbered its way east.

From the portal, more ships came.

[lv-iceprince]

🖤…mixtape ship…💕

@eudonyx

oh my god, I haven't done one of these ships in a hot minute so thank you so much for requesting this, i absolutely adored doing this for you and yeah.

apologies for the delay but i hope this finds you at a time when it was valuable and most importantly i hope you have a great day

xx

wren

~txt~ taehyun🖤💕

Upon listening to your playlist, I was met with an overwhelming amount of confidence regarding the fact that I was going to ship you with Taehyun right or wrong. Before I get any further into the ship I'll add the songs below just in case you forgot which songs you sent me:

Celebrity - IU

Angel with a shotgun - The Cab

Adore You - Harry Styles

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Blue Hour - TxT

Express Moon - Jo Yuri

Feel Special - Twice

Home - BTS

Starry Night - Mamamoo

Days gone by - Day6

Highlight - Izone

Left & Right - Seventeen

Most of this ship is riding on the idea that you and Taehyun are star-crossed lovers, in the most volatile way. It's passionate and true how much he loves you. It's love with a twist, one would assume that it's just a case of puppy love, yet something is so adult and based in reality. No matter how sweet you both seem on the surface there is this undeniable sense of lust and the realization that you are having a resounding affect on others just by wanting to be together.

Taehyun is your unconventional prince charming who knows deep down that you are meant to be and that you are wrapped around his finger. One would presume that you were both just too innocent to know what was going on but that's not the case, you're both sugar coated but you know that some of your feelings aren't that pure.

He is the one you call to experience something that makes you feel complete, and even if he stutters when you tell him you love him the morning after, there exists some deep love in his heart he just doesn't know how to say it. It would go on like this for a while, not knowing what you were and being confused that your relationship was staying afloat, yet Taehyun really just craves your care and affection even if he seems indifferent.

If there was some distance between the two of you, each day you would creep closer to each other until your fingers were lightly grazing. Taehyun has hearts in his eyes for you and hearts in his fingers on the nights he sneaks into your bedroom or encourages you to sneak out to meet him. No matter how you put it there was something pulling you away from him, a person who Taehyun didn't want to acknowledge since he knew he was way better than that loser.

Once that moment of clarity comes, the moment he knows that he couldn't possibly live without you, he picks up his guitar and makes his way to your home, ready to serenade the ever loving crap out of you. As soon as he started strumming, and when the first few words of Days Gone By by Day6 left his lips you knew this was true love, even if it wasn't perfect. That day Taehyun sang with the most devotion and truth, his occasional voice cracks were even more beautiful than the song itself. He was fighting against all of his anxieties to serenade you, he was your brave knight fighting for both of you.

At the end of the day, when you're leaning in for a rushed kiss before you let your inhibitions go, you are certain that there is no better type of love, and you're correct. Taehyun knew it was love too once he realised that he would move heaven and earth for you, and pull you away from someone who clearly doesn't love you, just to see you smile.

And when all is said and done, after Taehyun pulls down his brave face he almost cries at the idea of being in love with, and sharing a life with such an angel.

~moodboard 🖤💕~

~shufflemancy reading🖤💕~

'but does he know you call me when he sleeps?

but does he know the pictures that you keep?

but does he know the reasons that you cry?

or tell me, does he know where your heart lies? where it truly lies

right here with me, babe

where it truly lies

my bed, babe

where it truly lies

in my arms, babe

where it truly lies'

~like a moth to a flame♡ swedish house mafia & the weeknd

~your song🖤💕~

[wren-blue]

this is Sascha, a half-orc knight! she likes pretty clothes, nice food & wine and dancing. and attention, she will be the saddest girl in the whole world if no one's paying attention to her

[simshousewindsor]

The coronation invites are out, and a new portrait of Windenburg's monarch has been released.

Buckingsim Palace today shared a new portrait of Queen Katherine I and Rainier, Prince consort. The photo was taken last month in the White Drawing Room at the palace by Hakeem Burnett.

In the image, the royals stand side by side. Queen Katherine wears a blue Duchess of Dress VIII dress by @rustys-cc​ that perfectly matches Prince Rainier’s cobalt blue suit with a white dress shirt and a patterned tie. Queen Katherine accessorizes with a two-strand pearl necklace and the iconic Cullinan diamond III and IV Brooch by @batsfromwesteros​. She also wears Queen Lara-Leigh’s pearl drop earrings and her diamond engagement ring.

With the portrait, the palace shared the invitation for Queen Katherine's coronation, which will take place on May 18.

The invitations will be delivered to more than 2,000 guests who will form the congregation in Westsimster Abbey, the palace said, adding that four pages of honor have been chosen to attend the coronation service. The queen's pages will be Prince Phillip, Lord Martin Hugo, Master Lincoln Adams, and Master Sir Carter. The prince consort’s will be, Master Felix, Master Lance, and Master Franklin Tonto; as well as his second-cousin, Lord Arthur Danbury.

A lion, a unicorn, and a boar —taken from the coats of arms of the Monarch and His Royal Highness’ father, Lord Lugo Breece —can be seen amongst the flowers. Rainier's arms are now enclosed by the Garter, following his installation as a Knight of the Order of the Garter last summer, the palace said.

The wildflower meadow features lily of the valley, cornflowers, wild strawberries, dog roses, bluebells and a sprig of rosemary for remembrance, together with wildlife including a bee, a butterfly, a ladybird, a wren and a robin. Flowers appear in a group around a golden “Q” for Queen (Katherine I).

Central is the motif of the Green Man, an ancient figure from Windenburg folklore, symbolic of spring and rebirth, to celebrate a new reign. The shape of the Green Man, crowned in natural foliage, is formed of leaves of oak, ivy and hawthorn, and the emblematic flowers of the Windenburg.

[aarcanechaoss]

For the team whump you can do the team as the crimson lions.And the great great great grandfather of the Vermillion family.

I admit it’s not written very fic like but 😂 this would have been rather long if I made it so.

Warnings: implied sexual assault | not edited

Helion Vermillion- Crimson Lion’s Captain during Lemiel’s life.

It was a well known fact that the first Magic Knight squad to accept women in their ranks was the Crimson Lions. The Vermillion family as a whole prides itself on this fact.

But it wasn’t easy getting to that place, wasn’t easy for many people to respect a woman in such a place. Yet the most respected Crimson Lions Captain, Helion Vermillion, made sure there was no further argument after his father stepped down.

But this was before he’d become Captain, when he was only a squadron leader… this was when he met the most important person for the Crimson Lion and other squads futures.

(Y/n) was from the forsaken realms, a noble in comparison to most but a commoner to those deep in the city. It was a challenge of sorts, to even join a squad and hide amongst its ranks… a woman among men. She’d been too shocked that Captain Helios had chosen her to be in the Crimson Lions (though yes she was disguised as a man). With her hair cropped into a pixies cut, a binder around her chest and loose men’s clothes: she was set.

Her Captain’s son had warmed up to her quickly. He would knock on her door at the worst moments and often asked her (though she was a he to the Prince) to work in his squadron - eventually such a position became permanent.

It was nauseating lying to her friend. She hated it but if she was found out…. She didn’t want to know.

~~*~~

Their squadron was small with Helion leading and her as their strategist the three other men; Aryn, Wren and Noel.

Helion was tall, skin sun kissed, hair long and vermillion red and eyes a deep amethyst. He was a fire mage through and through.

Aryn was thin and small, skin alabaster, hair ivory and eyes a Pearl white. An ice mage as cold as he looked.

Wren was large, round and strong- he gave great hugs- his skin was bronzed, hair a vibrant blue and eyes a brilliant green. An earth mage of wondrous strength.

Noel was plain and had one of those faces that made him seem awfully familiar, his skin the colour of coffee and eyes the same, his hair was as golden as the sun… a light mage.

(Y/N) felt plain beside them. She was not strong and yet lean, she had no significance outside of the Crimson Lions and she was a woman. How she hated being so some days… what she could do with her shapeshifting they could always do faster.

But she was a Mountain Lion… she had to be strong and brave.

~~*~~

So how did they end up here? Bruised, beaten and chained to a cold stone wall.

It has been a week since they had been caught. No one had come except for their captors, every few hours to take them to another room and beat them.

So why?

Why was this the way her squad mates… her friends found out that she… she was not a man.

“(Y/N).” Helion had whispered as their captors exposed her binder.

“(Y/N)!” The others yelled as their captors forced her to the ground. She was powerless even after all this time. She could barely sob as their hands pulled and ripped at her pants.

~~*~~

She doesn’t remember what happened next, she doesn’t remember the way their cell brightened with light and flame. She doesn’t remember the smashing of rocks or the chill of ice.

She doesn’t remember having shifted and clawed at their captors.

She doesn’t remember her Captain wrapping her in his cape and carrying her away.

She doesn’t remember Helion racing behind them, ignoring any other medical attention.

(Y/N) awoke aching and confused. She could feel a weight in her hand- Helion was holding it, his amethyst eyes teary.

“We’re safe.” She heard Helion says, hand tight against her own. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” She asked. “I was the one who lied… about me.”

“I don’t care.”

“What?”

“I don’t care. You are a capable knight and being a woman will never be a weakness- father and I abhor that women are not allowed to be knights… but we want to make a change.”

“Why?”

“Women are not weak.” He smiled. “You are a Lion too after all.”

“Yes. Yes I am.” She smiled back.

~~*~~

The tale does not end there. In fact the Vermillion family take joy in knowing that their ancestors fought to keep (Y/N) (L/N) in the squad and they succeeded.

Even more she was no longer just (Y/N) (L/N) she had become (Y/N) Vermillion the Mountain Lion Knight.

This story was Mimosa’s favourite to learn and Fuegoleon was more than happy to repeat it time and time again.

It was hard to get to where they are now… but it was worth the adventure in the end.

[nothwell]

Sunday Snippet from my gay Victorian fae romance, Oak King Holly King - available now wherever fine books are found!

~

Butcher rose from the bed with a shocking amount of grace for a man of his stature, his long limbs tangling and untangling themselves in a languid fluidity as he stretched. Wren found himself transfixed by the sight of him. Likewise transfixed by the tiny blue flame, which Butcher set down on the bed-post, where it neither fell nor burned through the wood, but continued to flicker and glow. A shuffling sound drew Wren’s attention from it, and he belatedly saw Butcher had begun to collect the scattered papers.

Wren rushed to intercept him. “That’s all right—I’ll handle it.”

Butcher paused, then handed his sheaves to Wren, who realized as he took them that Butcher had collected them in order.

“Your pardon,” Butcher said. Then, “I was curious.”

Curiosity killed the cat—but satisfaction brought it back. The childish rhyme rose unbidden to the forefront of Wren’s mind. He dropped his gaze from Butcher’s face to the top-most page in the stack, whereupon a slender and beautiful knight embraced a wild, bearded lord. The marginal illustration neatly summarized the entire manuscript. If Butcher had seen this and not been put off by it, then perhaps…? It seemed too much to hope for, and yet the existence of the fae realm had seemed just as impossible before Wren had visited it himself last night.

And wouldn’t it be nice, for once, not to have to keep secrets?

~

Oak King Holly King is a gay Victorian fae romance, available now wherever fine books are found!

Amazon • Apple Books • Barnes & Noble • Bookshop.org • Kobo • Overdrive • Smashwords

[ask-the-castle-crasher-crew]

What are the knights' favorite swords?