#trying to keep their empire afloat and all that

[historicity-was-already-taken]

I am posting and responding to this ask anonymously as I don't want anyone harassing its sender. This has already been communicated with the person who sent the ask.

I just want to thank you for being a light in the darkness of anti-semitism, especially on this website. I have found I am on this site a lot less ever since it was made clear that other leftists here are more anti-semitic than we ever knew possible, using very specific wording of our own trauma against us (i.e. saying stuff like "colonialism", "genocide/ethnic cleansing", and calling JEWISH PEOPLE Nazis). It feels like, at best, they know Hamas ≠ All or even most Palestinians, but think that they think all JEWS = Bibi; and at worst, agree with Hamas and think of him as some sort of "freedom fighter". So, thank you from one leftist Jew to another, just trying to keep afloat here. ❤️

You are very welcome; it's certainly been overwhelming, and I'm glad this can be a safe space for you.

I do want to push back on some of this ask, though. Specifically in regard to terms such as "colonialism," "apartheid," "genocide," and "ethnic cleansing."

The use of these terms is not inherently anti-Semitic. For a lot of people, these terms are the best ones they have access to describe what they are seeing. I do think such terms as “colonialism” and “apartheid” are overly simple in regard to the last ~3000 years of Jewish history, and that they cast the situation into an alien historical context which dilutes and uncomplicates the all the historical realities at stake, but I truly do not think that all who use these terms do so to cause Jewish people pain.

Further complicating the picture is that terms like "colonialism" aren’t completely wrong. Modern Zionism arose in the context of mid-nineteenth century European large-scale movements towards nationalism (ie, the creation of nation-states) and away from the multi-national empire. Jews—a subject of anti-Semitism and fifth columnist suspicions within those emergent European nations—reacted to all this by joining the nationalism game.

What’s ironic, is that those European Jews who founded contemporary Zionism were reacting to the exclusion and racial hatred with which Gentile Europeans treated them, and then once they had some settlements in Palestine, they deployed similar variants of racial hatred at both the Palestinian Arab population, and Middle Eastern Jewry.

The existence of a distinct people and ethnic group in Palestine before the aliyot were not something the first generation of Zionists were concerned with. Because they were part of the same shitty, white supremacist, pro-imperialistic intellectual European tradition to which they were responding as victimized parties. As time went on and Zionist thought spread across Ashkenazic communities, we can see some variants. Some forms of far-left Zionism in twentieth century Poland, for example, actively built the presence and rights of Palestinian Arabs into their ideology, some of them actively stating that Zionism could not be a success if it necessitated transforming Palestinian Arabs into a group of secondhand citizens and a cheap source of labor in their own home.

Those leftist strands of Zionism tended to be Socialist/Communist in nature, and centered around the idea of life in Eretz Yisrael as one of a series of self-sufficient communes. Thus when the 1930s hit and things start to go bad, the Zionists we see fleeing to Palestine tended to be of the more centrist and far right variants. The left wing, socialist movements, already operating as a collective, had a membership uncomfortable with fleeing to safety while the rest remained behind.

And that same socialist/communal attitude, is why those variants of Zionist thought never made it into the Israeli political mainstream; most of their members and proponents were murdered in the Holocaust in part because they refused to leave their comrades behind. The General Zionists and Zionist Revisionists who rode out the years of the Holocaust in Palestine therefore already had access to the avenues of power which would become important in 1948, when the British Empire shrugged off its responsibilities towards the regions it colonized and destabilized.

Now, as for ethnic cleansing. I can’t sugar-coat this: that’s what the Naqba was. It was ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arabs from their homes to make way for the Jewish State. The manipulative shit (but still somehow extremely prestigious) youth group I was in taught us that Arabs call it Naqba because they hate Jews and therefore existence of Jews in the Southern Levant was a tragedy, as was the fact that Hitler didn't finish the job.

That’s garbage: it’s called the Naqba because it was ethnic cleansing. And that's not the fault of the Holocaust survivors who made their way to Mandatory Palestine/Israel in the late 1940s--they lacked political power, and were often looked down upon by those who did; the Holocaust as part of Israeli National Mythology wasn't an immediate Thing.

If you spent your formative years around older Jewish folks of A Certain Generation, whose trauma has pretty much placed a permanent block on their ability to see some of what went down in 1948 for what it was, I can’t blame you for having that gut/cognitive dissonance reaction to the use of “ethnic cleansing” in the context of Israel and Palestine. I know those older folks. I loved them. They’re mostly gone now, and I miss them terribly. But their trauma-induced view of everything lives on in the ability of some younger Jews to properly name and understand what it is that happened in 1948.

It was ethnic cleansing.

Further, not only were Palestinian Arabs ethnically cleansed, but the Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) Jews who were forced by their governments to flee their homes of thousands of years and seek refuge in Israel throughout the second half of the twentieth century…the Western and Central European Jews in control of Israel and its institutions treated them like shit too. Hadassah actively stole the babies of Yemeni Jews, told the parents that their children were dead, and rehomed them to Ashkenazic couples. There were death certificates. Members of the Ethiopian Jewish community were forcibly sterilized, and their ongoing treatment by the State is racist and generally atrocious. And this analysis of the relationship between the Israel State, MENA Jewish populations, and different Ashkenazic groups in Israel is horribly short and overly simple.

As for genocide. I honestly don’t know. I do know many people, who are very much not Anti-Semites, who are calling what’s happening in Gaza right now genocide; many of these people are also Jewish. I know many others who refer to the experiences of Palestinians between 1948 and now as a slow genocide. Many of these people are also actively not anti-Semites, and many of them are Jewish.

So these terms, as uncomfortable as they may feel for people within the very specific Jewish generational background I believe we share, are not deployed as anti-Semitic weapons. Nazi comparisons? Yes. Swastikas superimposed over the Star of David? Yes. Very specific hook-nosed Jewish caricatures in relation to Israelis? Yes. Blood libel shit? Yes. These are all anti-Semitic, and are deployed to hurt and retraumatize Jewish people. But the rest are not nearly that simple.

And I didn’t learn this from like, Bad Evil Post-Modern Academics at Columbia University Who Hate Jews; I learned this from doing graduate-level work in the field of Modern Jewish History, and working in Jewish archives; this did not come from outside the building.

Now, as for Hamas as freedom fighters…that’s ignorant at best. Hamas’ charter clearly calls for the global destruction of the Jewish people [ETA: they edited this part out in 2017 for PR purposes], and their actions as rulers are horrifically, violently, homophobic, and seem to be more abut provoking Israel than they are about governing and protecting their people. But as you said, Hamas isn’t all Palestinians, and it’s also not all Palestinians who consider themselves freedom fighters. (A second reader of mine had the following commentary on this paragraph: "Might need a bit more complication around Hamas? I know that's not your area of expertise but it's worth mentioning that they were basically set up to undermine the PLO and what would become the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank. You're right that they aren't representative of all Palestinian thought and resistance, and that they are on some fuck shit.")

So while I’m so glad that blog is a comfort to you, I encourage you to also take a step into some of your discomfort, and ask yourself where it comes from.

No one reading this post has my consent to use it to silence other Jewish people who are in different stages of their journey towards understanding how generational trauma has impacted their ability to grasp all of this. Further, if you choose to attack me for gently calling my people in, you're a piece of shit and I will be mean to you.

#jewish history #israeli history #palestinian history #history of zionism

[peachdues]

THE SWEET FAR THING (TEASER)

Knight!Kyojuro x F!Royal!Reader

Kyojuro my beloved, it is your time to shine again.

Have a sneak peek from my Royal AU featuring one of mt favorite tropes — sworn protector/guard x royal.

Obviously this will be super NSFW, who do y’all think I am.

CW: suggestive/horny content ahead.

Scene context: angy Knight Rengoku slips into your chambers late at night following a failed coup attempt.

He’s angry and you know why — you’d directly disobeyed his orders and launched yourself headfirst into the chaos which erupted in the Great Hall.

His presence in your rooms is daunting; a dark anger ripples off him like waves of heat roll off stone in the summer, and yet he says not a word as he slowly stalks toward where you stand near the edge of your bed.

A predator stalking his prey.

Only when the tips of his boots meet the toes of your slippers, only when you feel the blustering heat rolling off his body and enveloping you within its suffocating warmth, does Sir Rengoku open his mouth.

“Where.” It is all he says, his voice low and rich. His eyes are twin pools of molten ore, but even now, you can see the rage simmering within their ochre depths.

“Where.” He repeats, though his tone is harsher.

“‘Where what, Sir Rengoku?” Your voice is as soft as the shadows cast around the walls of your chambers by the flames crackling merrily in your hearth.

A muscle feathers in his jaw. “Your wounds,” his face twists as though the very thought of any harm befalling you is offensive. “Where are they.”

It is not a question, but a demand; one that you know spells trouble if you should answer truthfully.

Trouble that piques your interest nonetheless; one that stokes a curiosity within you that you know is dangerous.

You pursue it anyways. “I am unharmed.”

The knight’s mouth curls into a snarl at the obviousness of your lie. “That is not what the healer claimed.”

“What good is the word of a healer against the crown?” Defiance rears its head within you, eager to both rise to his challenge and to see exactly how far you can push him. “Is my word not law?”

Rengoku scoffs as he steps closer, his leg slotting between your thighs and forcing you to lean back into tour bed frame for support. “It may be so,” he admits, though the fury in his eyes make no such concessions. “But empires built on baseless laws are inevitably doomed to fall.”

“Meaning?”

The Knight’s eyes flash. “Your words are horseshit and you know it.”

He’s right and but you’ll be damned before you admit it.

“You overstep,” the bite of your glare is belied by the way you’re forced to shift your weight awkwardly from foot to foot, as you try your best not to think about the burning press of his thigh between yours. “Now kindly remove yourself from my chambers.”

Rengoku makes no effort to move and his obstinacy thrills you.

Instead, his hands rise to the front tie of your dressing gown and begin tugging, slowly undoing the haphazard knot you’d fastened in your haste to make yourself decent.

Your fleeting moment of triumph is chased away by the breath which lodges in your throat.

“What are you doing?”

Your knight — your fiery, loyal, compassionate yet utterly insufferable knight — slides a single hand between the parted folds of your robe, coming to rest on the dip of your waist covered only by the thing fabric of your nightgown.

The weight of his palm feels like a brand against your skin. “Since you refuse to be forthright about the extent of your injuries,” Rengoku says, pushing the robe away from your shoulders. “I shall have to take inventory of them myself.”

Your dressing gown drops to the bed behind you before sliding to the floor to puddle around your feet. Wordlessly, Rengoku steps away just enough to kneel before you, though his eyes remain locked with yours.

You are wading into treacherous waters, and you know you are without any raft or life preserver which could keep you afloat.

“I shall scream,” you warn, though you do not mean it; not really. You intend only to give him an out, a means to come back to his senses before the blazing heat of his stare consumes you both. “I shall alert the rest of the palace guard.”

His fingers skim up the length of your shin, a phantom caress that is a mockery of how you truly wish for him to touch you.

“My duty is to guard the Crown and ensure no harm befalls it, your Majesty,” Rengoku’s breath follows the path carved by his hands up your legs. He pauses at the knee-length hemline of your nightgown, his chin resting against the slight bend in your leg.

It nearly frightens you how much you adore seeing him on his knees, peering up at you like you are the embodiment of salvation itself.

“So by all means, call forth the Guard,” the Knight’s fingers slowly push below the hem of your nightdress, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Call forth every living creature within the palace, for all I care. They will see only the Princess’s Knight, carrying out his sworn duties and managing her every need.”

Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as Rengoku’s fingers tease higher and higher up your thigh. “And what are my needs, Sir Rengoku?”

Your flame-haired protector only hums. “To have your wounds tended to, for starters,” and it takes everything in you not to let your head fall back with a cry as Rengoku presses a single, chaste kiss just above your knee.

But the sweetness of the gesture is undercut by the darkness of his gaze. “And to be punished for directly defying the orders of your Guard.”

yes daddy punish me —

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny rengoku #kny kyojuro #kny smut #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #kny fic #demon slayer fanfic

[simp-ly-writes]

Betting on Hearts

Cross-over: Contemporary! Peaky Blinders x The Gentlemen (2024)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Shelby!Reader,

Summary: Being the main face to the (legal*) Shelby Business Empire, you too dabble with the less than legal side when prompted to (against your Brother's wishes). So when a certain Duke and Glass Family start stirring things up on your doorstep, you decide to seduce the duke into compliance but maybe, Eddie had the same idea for you too...

Warnings: 5000~ words, depictions of blood, overprotective siblings, emotional manipulation (seduction), reader is a bit... much. Probably some other tags that I am forgetting

A/N: more notes later.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | read-through and edited.

↳ The Shelby empire was dominant in many industries and with you being among the middle children, just behind your three older brother's, you mainly took to the newer parts of the business but you of course wrangled your way to the darker sides as well no matter how much your family protested (except for Polly, she openly cheered you on before her untimely passing)

↳ You were the Queen of import/export, the face to the Gin company and co-owner to your new digital sports betting app, your younger sister Ada had stepped in to help you manage it all. Using the earnings from the gambling you put it towards the branding and advertisements of your other departments and the greater Shelby corporation

↳ Arthur, the spirited yet your mentally-barley-afloat brother as he drank half the gin you supplied to his section of the business or found himself high as a kite while insisting on keeping your hands as clean as possible, coming with you on every assignment. Arthur maintained his "Garrison" bars across the country, moving on to establish high dining and was currently trying to stick the Shelby name into hotel management.

↳ John, a man that carried a huge heart with his irresistible charm and humor. He (while trying to convince the youngest, Finn to join him) managed the productions and manufacturing of each one of your industries. Supplying the parts, the bottles and ingredients, alongside the construction materials for every one of Arthur's expansions alongside supplying for your... darker dealings. The company, to a degree, was self-sustainable

↳ And of course, you had Thomas, the mastermind of the whole empire and the one you reported every minuscule detail to at the end of the day. You wouldn't call him kind, but he was considerate to a degree. You could always count on him to protect you where other's have failed but that also caused the greatest conflict between the two of you. It was hard, managing family verses business with him, lines always threatening to be crossed as your relationship was strained. Thomas respected you deeply, you had stuck with him when the rest of the family fell apart and offered him new perspectives to cultivating legal business. Yet he was too protective of you, he couldn't stand to lose you and openly admitted that you where his first choice if he needed to choose who would live

↳ In recent times, your family was playing chess against with a rising power called the Glass family who not so suitably started poking their fingers into your sectors, fixing your gambling sites with their newest expansions. You chuckled to yourself within Tommy's house. The men reported on the new business the Glass family had established, a boxing ring as you shoved Arthur in his chair with a teasing smile.

"Remember when you wanted to become a boxer, brother?" Arthur flips you the finger, a frown emerging from his moustache as he pours himself another drink, mumbling about you being a spoiled little brat yet you don't bother to catch the end of it.

The spy coughs, returning all of your attention back as Thomas glares at you both to hold yourselves, John's face has gone red trying to conceal his laughter at the childish faces you pull at him as Thomas throws his hand up, signalling for the man to continue.

"They have been having some difficulties in expanding their weed enterprise as well, we are still trying to get to the bottom of as to why this is as the documentation we have stolen shows nothing out of the sorts." A series of copied folders and photographs are then spread against the hardwood table as your painted nails sort through each stack, categorizing them in sequential order. Your green nail taps on top of a dead mans face thoughtfully stroking his cheek as you look at the bullet hole placed in between his eyes, "And what is the backstory to this incident exactly?" you comment.

The spy looks towards Thomas who already looks bored, there was nothing of significance to be said just yet but this newest bit of information had him raising as eyebrow. "Well, that kill was confirmed to be done by the new Duke of Halstead as I were one of the men stationed to dispose of it."

The spy throws another bundle on the table labelled, "The Duke." You excitedly snatch the manila folder quicker than anyone else at on the table as your eyes dart across every picture and piece of information you can grasp. Captain, Aristocrat, Medals... More Medals, Service, First Place, Honour Roll, Head Boy, Family Strain, oh... Your thoughts pause, cheeks heating when you flick up a stapled bundle of papers, a defined uniform, blue beret. The next page a Polo champion in college and deep black suit for the funeral. Slamming the folder shut, all eyes snap to the sudden noise.

"We are joining the upper echelon of society, brothers! Do let me meet up with him- I promise not to disappoint," you plead, already knowing that you are perfect for the mission. You and the Duke were both public-facing faces with one foot in reality and another in the pits. It would be a simple mission really, you convince yourself and your brothers as they immediately protest to the idea. Step in, seduce, convince him to sign-out and step out- as simple as that.

You look at Thomas, eyes strong, eyebrows furrowed as you level his stare. "You know I'm the only who can properly do this job, Thomas and if it does not work out, we can just kill them off just like the last, right?" The spy departs, bowing his head before speedily turning out of the room as tension only rises in the room, getting caught in your throat as you hitch your breath watching as Tommy's mouth moves into an echoing, "fine."

--

↳ So here you sat, in your covered box from the sun at the races. You clapped joyfully with a smile spreading your cheeks. You tip your hat down, seeing your bets adding up on your card as Ada cheered loudly beside you, leaning over the railing as she praises your chosen racer. Interviews for the sportsmen start as the Jockey casts a wink up at your sister. Ada throws down a business card the he clutches, placing it in his breast pocket with a tap to his chest before continuing to answer the post-race questions.

"Have yourself a date?" you tease out, picking up your spiked lemonade to hide your smile curving up into a knowing smirk. "Well you are one to talk sis, I heard down the grapevine that you had a certain duke chasing after you like Cinderella," Ada rebuttals, fixing herself a drink at the cart as you eye the three shots of vodka she stirs in, "isn't that a bit much for..." you look down at your wrist-watch, "...1PM? We do have dinner at Arthur's later tonight you know."

"We all can use a pick-me-up every now and then," she comments as you hum out, eyeing up your singular shot drink before shifting further down the couch to create space for her as she removes a pillow, placing it on her lap as she kicks off her heels and sets her feet up upon the coffee table. "Now, you didn't answer my question, go on then," she sasses, setting her drink down and leaning closer to you with knowing eyes gleaming into your own.

You roll your eyes, face going red while pushing her face away from your own as she laughs, "So you do have the hots for him!"

"No, its just that a second sun is bursting in my face and plus, we could never work," you retort, now refusing to meet her chasing eyes as she grips your hand. "Oh, come on (name)! details, details! don't leave me hanging here, thats brothers work," Ada presses forward just as your resolve crumbles. You place a hand to the bride of your nose, pinching as you eyes squeeze shut. "I won't repeat myself so listen closely," you start recalling the first day you met Captain and Duke, Edward Horniman.

--

↳ Running around your house, asking various staff members of your estate as to where your old mail had been distributed you felt around the thin papers and pages till you felt weight and lifted out the invitation from the stack. Mr. Johnston's Estate invites you to his quarterly festivities, your fingers trace over the pressed letters and seal before looking towards your closet

↳ You had worn a tailored dress that perfectly accentuated your body for tonights assignment. Within a closer inspection, various hand stitched black branches and birds spread across the top sheer level of fabric set to a black backdrop. Your hair was pinned upwards, showcasing the glowing skin of your neck and upper chest that you spent way too much time blending in with your makeup.

↳ You suitably leaned against the bar-top, feet already sore from the high heels you wore to make your legs appear longer and by the looks around the room, your plan of seduction was already in the works as a woman ordered a drink for the two of you. Her red lipstick simmering brightly under the dim lights, beckoning you in closer yet you held your resolve. Thanking her for the drink while placing a hand on her own before walking towards the neighbouring room. Feeling her stare as you left, you offered her a floating kiss before turning the corner.

↳ The windows were open as you walked down the long hall towards the cheers as multiple guests played various card games within the billiards room, you pulled the sleeves of your dress down further as you dropped the drink on a floating tray- it's sickeningly sweet taste formed a headache as you pinched your temples.

↳ You strolled around the room, smiling at every face that met yours, shaking hands with others as you enjoyed watching every. single. face. fall in recognition to who they were just flirting with. Stuttering apologies, you grew disappointed when their eyes drifted cautiously around the room for a threat of a man, one of your brothers. You scoff at this, turning towards the next.

↳ With the most recent man that was trying to capitalize on the half-attention you were giving him, absent-mindlessly nodding along to his business proposition as you both strolled around the estate, you found yourselves back at the entrance as your eyes snapped over to the late party-goers just making their arrivals, one of them being just the man you were waiting for as he stumbles through the open doors.

His beauty stumps you in person, the blurry pictures you obtained from at the table do not do the man justice as he practically glows under the warm lighting above. His hair tussled in a wind-swept way as your hands itch to fix every strand. Chocolate eyes are all you want to drink in before your attention is being called back as you start to glare at the intrusion.

"So what do you think, Mademoiselle Shelby?" the man asks to you, hand starting to drift up your arm, another on your leg before your eyes snap back down to his face from over the crowd. You rip your arm away from his touch, sending him a cold smile as you fix the lapels of his jacket for him, gripping the suit closest to his neck as you pull him closer to you. Any outside looker would think your reaction to be a romantic display yet by the sweat starting to form at his hairline, you were receiving just the reaction you wanted.

"I have no interest in working with a boy who already starts to sweat at the mere touch of a woman," and with that you drop him, watching as he falls into a group of people who all glare down at him, stepping around as he scrambles out the backdoor. You fix your appearance in your phones camera before making your way towards your mission.

--

Edward Horniman's Perspective

Re-buttoning his suit jacket, he places his keys in the hands of a staff-member while making his way up the stairs. Susie had been waiting for him in the lobby rather impatiently, her foot tapping against the tiled floors as she dully looked at the floral decorations that hug around the vaulted space before her eyes snapped to Eddie form spinning around to face her.

"You look a bit shit," she says while eyeing him up and down, taking notice to the small amount of blood beginning to form at his side with distaste.

"Remind me why we're here?" Eddie states, taking the conversation reigns as he begins to glance around the room. Susie begins walking closer to him, making their way out of the foyer.

"We are here to learn why Uncle Sam wants in to your estate and subsequently our Business," Susan replies, a subtle shake of her head as if ringing out the terrible idea of it all. Her feet start to falter as she instantly notices you stepping into the room behind them both with a champagne flute delicately place in your hand.

"Then whats his business?" Eddie pushes forwards, moving them both through the sea of people as Susie snaps her head back forwards, doing her best to maintain composure and not cause a scene as she allows Eddie to guide her further into the estate.

"Meth. He's made billions from it."

"Then what are you, Susan, a drug dealer with a heart?" Eddie question's, raising a brow as he stops to pick them both up a drink. A small smile spreading across his lips as they chime together before Susie proceeds to down the rest of it.

"Everything alright?" concern now rising in his features as he looks around the room, his gaze stopping, breath intaking sharply at the sight of you. He is unable to tear his gaze away as you turn your head to face him, you offer a small smile. Eyeing the man from his shoes, the seam of his pants, his neck that swallow deeply as your hand rises from your side, up to your collarbones as you delicately play with the necklace you wear. You finally stop at his eyes as you mouth a cheeky hello before turning around back towards the bar.

Susie still remains looking at her now empty drink, unknowing to Eddie's distraction by the sound of the crowd as she continues conversation normally. "We like money just as the next man, but his gear comes with a rather violent price tag. We stay in our lane because comparatively, its a peaceful one. We let him in, carnage will follow."

Susie now looks up, noticing that Eddie had not replied to her speech as she follows his gaze to your back as your fingers play with the lip of your cup. You laugh at whatever the bartender had just said to you before your glass has been topped off once more, you turn around, flashing them both a smile before slowly making your way closer to them.

Eddie takes a step forwards, wishing to meet you halfway before Susie reigns him in, nails digging into the arm of his suit jacket as she pulls him back to her side.

"I don't think you are quite ready for the big leagues, Captain-" Susan warns, looking at the side of Eddies face before he turns back to her, a charming smile accentuating his features before he speaks.

"I just killed a man, Susie. I think I can handle speaking to a woman-"

"Hm, well thats just not any ordinary woman, Edward. That is Miss. Shelby- the possible saviour to every one of our problems if we did not already... push some buttons," Susie states, smile waning as you get progressively closer, many people still try and gain your attention as you hold up your hand, wishing not to be disturbed.

"And there's room to fix that I'm sure, but what exactly did WE do?" Before Susie could answer, your heels are in front of Eddies dress shoes as you extend a hand forwards in greeting. "Miss. Shelby," Susie greets you with a composed look, her smile dropped as she tries to stare through you.

Edward picks up your hand, pressing a kiss on to the back of it as you hold hands for longer than necessary before pulling away. "Your Grace, Miss. Glass," you greet, "a pleasure it is to see you both here tonight." Your voice is like honey, hanging in the air as you smile at them both.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Shelby," Edward replies, noticing Susie's mock indifference as she shifts her weight slightly under your faux-gentle eyes; sharped to a cutting-stare as you strike her down. "You two make a rather charming couple, if I may ask, how recent is this development?" you question, hiding your growing smirk in your drink as Eddie's gaze falls to your lips and the print you leave against the glass, snapping back up to your eyes- yours crinkle in a second greeting.

"You have yourself mistaken, Myself and Miss. Glass are merely business associates," Eddie clarify as you set your glass gently on the bar-top, hand brushing against Eddies bicep in the movement. Your eyes continue to lock on to one another, a silent conversation being played as you lean a bit closer, taking a deeper look at his features as you notice Eddies gaze roam your's own. In that moment, Susie decides to step back into the conversation.

"What does your family want?" she deadpans, eyeing the closing distance between you and Eddie with hardened eyes as her hand threatens to crush the glass in her hand. "Well, by the looks of it, your business had became my business, thanks to your mingling," you charismatically charm, hand hovering on Eddies arm as you adore the jealous look brewing inside her.

"And if you two are merely just associates, I think this calls for a more... personal discussion with the Duke since our businesses are now becoming tied together, is that not tight Susie?" you finish with as Eddie looks between the two of you, undeceiving of who to follow alongside. But by the look of your eyes snapping to his lips once more as you tongue swipes across your own, parting them slightly- his decision is made.

"I will be back in a moment, Susie," Edward says, following in-step as you lead him out of the crowded space. Just as Eddie reaches the hall, he casts his head back, sending Susie a knowing look as if to say, I'm fixing it before disappearing. Susie glares at your lipstick stained glass sat on the counter with distaste before being led towards Mr. Johnston by his assistant.

--

Your Perspective

Success, you cheer to yourself, as you loop your arm around Eddies arm, leading him towards a nearby study you know to be empty. The door softly closes behind you both. In the next moment, you pull Eddies arm to his side, shoving him against the door as it rattles from the impact.

Eddie's eyes are blown wide as he hisses out slightly in pain, forgetting about the gun-shot wound before becoming distracted by the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Your heels make you tall enough to capture his lips into a delicate battle of heated touches, your skirt being bunched up by Eddies hands, your gentle caresses of the stubble of his cheeks as playful bite his lower lip, wishing to explore more.

Gasping for air as you pull away, you further taint his skin a deep red to match his lips you coated in your lipstick. Pressing a kiss at the side of his mouth as he whispers out a tease before you trail over to his cheek, paving a way to his chin and down his neck as his head raises, exposing more skin for your greedy lips. He grips your hips, keeping you in place as you suck a mark onto the base of his neck. A soft moan escaping between his lips before an equally greater hiss as blood continues to pour out of his side.

You take a step back, gently opening his jacket, your eyes cast upwards, through your lashes as you playfully pout. You place a palm at his inner thigh, watching as his eyes grow in size as your hand drifts just past the growing bulge in his pants- stopping slightly before the wound as you hum out thoughtfully while looking at it.

"My, my, your grace. Whatever do you have here?" You rhetorically ask before pressing your hand into the opening, listening as he hisses out, hands swiftly moving off your hips and onto your hand as they pull your touch off of him side.

"You little fucking temptress," Eddie curses out, eyes darkened as his tongue sweeps over his lips, you take a few steps back. The Duke presses himself off the wall, taking wide strides as your hands begin to sweat yet you do not break eye contact. Continuing to swiftly walk backwards as best you can in heels before tripping over a rug and falling against the back of a chair.

Eddie's arms cage you in against the chair, your breath hitching as he places his face within the crook of your neck. His facial hair tickling your skin, a soft burn forming with every word he speaks, "Now tell me, Miss. Shelby, what is it you want from me?"

You swallow. Hard. Knuckles turning white at the force you grip the chair with before trying to compose yourself, a shaky breath you exhale conceal in a moan. Pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I want you to kiss me, Eddie," you murmur, hand fixing those curls you wanted to from the start. Your fingers curl around a few strands within an instant as Eddie sucks a bruise to your neck, licking the area afterwards. "What are you here for?" he questions once more as you shake your head, wondering how far you can truly push this.

"No. That was not a proper kiss, sir. Kiss me." You state again, taking a deep breath in as victory when Eddie pulls away, eyes boring into your own, blood now tainting the band of his pants as your eyes flicker down to it. Your chin is gripped as Eddie pulls you into that proper kiss you were begging for but he pulls away too quickly as you press your lips together to hide your frown. Your cheeks were warm, hair a mess, your chest raises up and down like you had just ran a mile.

Edward appears in the same state as he stumbles back, hand gripping his side, eyes tipping down to your chest before snapping back up with a cold look- you needed to answer, couldn't have your signature bleeding out before he could sign.

"I need you out of my bettings, your grace," you breathily state, hand placed on your chest as you feel your heart-rate still bumping fast. You take deeper intakes of air, feeling for your heart starting to slow as you watch Eddie crunch over, blood-loss starting to make him go dizzy.

You swiftly stand and hobble towards the desk, finding a first aid kit in one of the lower drawers as you unknowingly bend down in front of Eddie as he curses you out once more, you look back, murmuring an apology before standing up straight and beginning to make work of his clothes, jacket off, tie discarded and shirt unbuttoned, you pluck the remnants of the bullet out from his side.

Eddie grits his teeth together, hands curled into fists as he watches you work, your tweezers poking into his muscle. "If you would stop watching me so closely, maybe I could focus more and poke you less," you sass, looking up at his while blowing the hair out of your eye. Eddie fixes the stand behind your ear before raising his hand once more. "Well just a minute ago you were practically on your knees begging for me to look at you," Eddie responds with a smirk, you huff and maintain your work, gathering the last bits of metal before treating the area and wrapping his torso snuggly.

The Duke's blood stains your hands as you look down at them thoughtfully. The thick liquid cascades off your fingertips, falling onto your dress, marking a pair of birds. "You owe me a new dress," you say, wiping your hands with the small cloth the kit provided before taking a stand. You start to walk away before Eddie grasps your arm, you pause mid-step, feet now plated in wait.

"Thank you, Miss. Shelby. I will sign to never fix a game with your business if you promise to have a meeting with Miss. Glass and I," Edward compromises, letting go of your arm and watches as you walk towards the exit, "I don't think you are in any position to make compromises, nevertheless demands, Edward. But... I'll keep you updated on my decision," and with that you close the door softly behind yourself for him to get dressed. Pressing your forehead to the wooden surface, you grip your hands into fists before settling your head up high as you descend the stairs and move towards the coat room. You sneak your keys and coat before slipping out the side door and walk towards your car.

A series of hastened footsteps against the gravel have you rolling down the window to your Range Rover, foot on the brake, hands on the wheel- ready to make haste. You do your best not to be surprised when the Duke's face greets you on the other side, a I know something you don't smile resting on his features as you raise a brow to it.

"We never exchanged contacts," he states to you casually, as if it were the weather. You hum out, analyzing his statement while look out the windshield before looking back at him. Light rain begins to fall as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek, "I will find you in due time, you and Miss. Glass. Have a good night, your grace." And with that, you roll up your window, and drive off underneath the moonlight.

--

You take a deep sip of your drink as Ada sits still, mouth open as you swear to be losing circulation to you hand. Pins and needles start to form at your fingertips form how tightly she holds onto your hand. "Fuck, sis. Sounds like you got him good," Ada says, barley able to conceal her smile.

Shaking your head you take a deep sip of your near melted lemonade before clearing your throat and checking for the time, it would be an hour's drive from here, you both had to leave soon. "Well even if I have managed to, 'get him good...'" you raise your hands in quotations, starting to mock even the idea of you two together yet your heart speaks otherwise, beating rapidly in your chest as you recount the feeling of his lips on yours. The small hickey on your neck still bruised as you wonder if his has healed since then.

Ada raises a brow, watching as you absent-mindedly reach up towards your mark, fingers circling around the mark as you continue to speak, "...Tommy would never allow it-"

"Fuck what Tommy thinks, he's not you. Do YOU want to see him again?" Ada cuts you off, a serious look taking over every feature, tightening into sharp lines- as if daring you to say else-wise.

You refuse to meet her eyes, looking outside to the near empty tracks, "I mean..."

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung @surazim

↳ A/N: What did you all think? I am quite happy with this being a standalone but I am willing to write a pt.2. If you have any ideas as to where it could go- send an ask, DM, or comment and I'll see what can be done further :) (i'm also taking a break soon... maybe... probably).

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #peaky blinders #the gentlemen 2024 x peaky blinders

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

Honestly, when it comes to Mitzi May, I truly do feel for the woman, like seriously. I perhaps can get why some don't care for her or when it comes to disliking her actions at times. Which I find interesting considering all of the Lackadaisy characters aren't exactly the most upstanding or super high moral group of individuals except for probably Horatio or Lacy. Back to Mitzi, I feel she doesn't get enough love or that she underappreciated and not value enough.

For real the woman is seriously and desperately doing all that she can to keep the Lackadaisy speakeasy afloat while at the same time still grieving over the lost of her husband and taking up as boss after his mysterious murder. Which is still up in the air on who could've actually killed Altas amongst the rumors of Mitzi being involved, but reading & re-reading the comic more than often and taking in the little details of dialogue and how Mitzi speaks of Atlas within parts of the comic or even in the pilot, I deeply think that you can feel also see that she truly did loved Atlas a lot.

Like Mitzi is doing all that's she can to try to keep her late husband legacy and his once booming empire in tack. Although...very obviously struggling to do so, Since after Atlas death about most if not a good half of the Lackadaisy staff and those who where super loyal to Atlas rolled on out completely. With only a few of the original staff members left such as Viktor and Horatio including the band.

I'm not sure how super involved Mitzi was when it comes to the business side of handling a speakeasy and dealing with the "Dirty work" aspect of it when Atlas was still alive? From some parts of the comic it's seems that Mitzi obviously knew the dangerous surroundings and dealings of her husband business affairs.

It seems pretty apparent that Mitzi most definitely knew the dangerous surroundings of what her husband was doing. I mean it's being during prohibition and all and running a underground illegal speakeasy and dealing with comparators. Of course it be a bloody dangerous way of living and business life and I'm certain from parts of the comic and even bits of the mini ones is that Mitzi knew of the dangers of said business life, but back then with her husband around she was just the boss wife and maybe wasn't as super involved with that side of the speakeasy except for the entertainment aspects. Now Mitzi is very much desperately trying to hold everything all together of what her husband left behind. Now I can get on some levels when it comes to Mitzi actions being questionable and some fans not caring for the way she can go about things.

Honestly I too don't always agree to the some of the lengths or certain things Mitzi does. But I can see her were she coming from sometimes and the fact that she doing all she can to keep Lackadaisy up. Also, I think her desperation in some cases and her trying so hard to keep the speakeasy going could be tie to some parts of her upbringing. Which I remember hearing from one of the Lackadaisy streams from the Official Youtube channel, on dealing with parts of Mitzi background and how she came from poverty growing up and honestly its really makes sense on why she so desperately doing all she can in terms of trying to keep Lackadaisy going.

From living and having to grow up in poverty to being constantly on the road as a musician with Zib and the rest of the band gang most likely getting gig after gig and probably maybe, perhaps not always having a whole lot of money when doing so. Until suddenly you find yourself performing at an fancy hotel and catch the attention of a highly esteemed gentleman that you thought you would probably never had the chance of being close towards.

Also, the fact that the woman literally sold everything she had to keep everyone feed. Like seriously she sold her and Altas likely huge house and all the cars not mentioned she sold off all of her wedding china's. I mean I feel she wouldn't do that if she didn't actual cared about the band and what's left of the staff members or simply trying her best to hold onto what her husband built. Now who truly killed Atlas is still a mystery and I can see why some might assume and feel it's Mitzi, but this little scene right still gets me. When reading this specific scene and part of the comic on Mitzi selling off everything she had expect for the pearl necklace Altas gave her for the first time and how at that moment she truly felt like she was somebody and how Altas made her feel like a special girl.

Honestly, there's so much going on with Mitzi that I seriously can't help but deeply feel for her and what she is dealing with. I can understand on some levels why she might not be everybody favorite, but I truly feel for her and her trying her hardest and best to keep things going...while not always using the greatest methods....but I do believe Mitzi deserves some love because lord the woman been through some rough shit.

#lackadaisy cats #mitzi may #lackadaisy #lackadaisy comic #lackadaisy spoilers #lackadaisy meta #lackadaisy pilot #meta analysis #webcomic #character meta

[dailydragon08]

The Right Moment

See my masterlist and read on AO3 here.

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: You and Luke try to improve your track record with cliffs--and he has a not-so-little surprise in store for you. Warnings: none, other than maybe a steamy makeout session and tooth-rotting fluff. A/N:  "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no  particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Also windswept Luke is so adorable I can’t get over it (please tell me I’m not the only one).

***

You tugged Luke’s hand as you climbed the crudely made mountain path to what was now one of your favorite spots on Ahch-To. You’d discovered it while exploring the other day as Leia, Han, Chewie, and the others finished getting all the information they could from the abandoned imperial base. Luke had been meditating and you didn’t want to disturb him, so went off on your own and found the most peaceful spot with the best view. 

“Are you sure about this?” Luke asked as he trailed behind you. “We don’t have the best history with cliffs, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to change that—and you’ll love this view, I promise.”

You felt him squeeze in close behind you as the path narrowed. “I like my current view just fine.”

You turned to give him a fond eye roll and shake of your head as he grinned. You suddenly gasped as you stumbled slightly and may have even plummeted down the rockface if it weren’t for Luke’s strong hands steadying your waist. 

“Careful, starflower.” He chuckled. “See? Terrible track record.”

“Well, it’s your fault,” you grumbled, taking his hand and resuming your trek with your eyes now firmly focused on your feet. 

He laughed and his voice rose an octave. “What? How is it my fault?”

“Well, if you weren’t so hot, I wouldn’t have gotten distracted!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.”

You chuckled as you reached the landing you’d spent so much time on earlier. The vast ocean waves crashed against the mountain below, their gentle thundering relaxing your mind. You glanced up as a bird took flight from a nest in a ledge above you, its babies following awkwardly behind it. You breathed deeply and smiled at their cute, fuzzy bodies doing their best to stay afloat on the wind. 

You turned to see Luke staring out over the waters, completely mesmerized, but found you liked this view even better. As the sun began its descent, it cast everything aglow and he looked almost God-like in the golden light, his blue eyes bright and soft hair blowing in the wind. He took a few steps in front of you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. He’d forgone his jacket and was just in a simple black shirt and you couldn’t help but admire the strong curve of his back through the fabric. He inhaled deeply before blowing it all out in a calming exhale and you could tell he needed this just as much as you. With the empire nearly gone and the New Republic ready and waiting in the wings, you were all so close to your goal, but now deeply felt your exhaustion. 

The wind picked up and you dropped Luke’s hand to gather your hair behind you. Before you could slide the hair tie off your wrist, however, he turned to you and gently grabbed your wrists. “No, keep it down. It’s pretty.”

You laughed. “It’s going everywhere and is probably a mess.”

He moved to stand directly in front of you so both your sides were facing the ocean and smiled softly, gently moving some hair away from your neck and tucking it behind your ear. “No, it’s beautiful…like the rest of you.”

You stared at him for a moment, sure the love in your eyes was mirroring his own. You took a step closer and pressed your chest flush against his as his arms wrapped around your waist. You let yours slowly slide up his chest to rest on his shoulders and couldn’t help but just stare. You’d brought him up here to admire the scenery of Ahch-To, but now it felt more like a backdrop for him. His eyes looked especially blue in the setting sun’s light, and you marveled at the way his golden hair danced across his forehead. 

Your eyes followed your fingers as they weaved into the hair at the nape of his neck before meeting his eyes again. Your face fell as you noticed the intensity of his gaze and the tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head and laughed as you gently wiped a tear away. “Nothing, you just…you look so beautiful. I love you so much.”

You struggled to hold back your own water works. “I love you too, handsome.”

“I mean it, you look…” he paused and let out a shuddery breath. “Maker, you don’t even look real.”

You beamed, laughing softly and cradling his face in your hands. You tilted your forehead against his and he sighed, holding you even tighter as his cybernetic weaved into your hair. He’d forgone the glove like he always did when it was just the two of you, and gently stroked your jaw with his thumb. He planted a soft, but passionate kiss to your lips, lingering against you and sighing into your mouth. 

There was silence for a moment after you broke away. You let yourself sink deep into the Force and enjoyed the feeling of him around you and could feel him doing the same. “You really do look…just…in this lighting…”

You opened your eyes and pulled back to look at him, tracing the curve of his neck with your fingers. “Look what?”

He shook his head, at a loss for words for a moment. “Ethereal.”

You blinked and bit your lip, your cheeks now sore from how much you were smiling. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

His thumb traced a path under your eye to gently flick your earlobe. “I’m not trying to. I just…We’ve all been so busy and things have been so dangerous the last few years. Just knowing it’s finally coming to a close is…” he laughed, “inspiring me, I guess.”

You couldn’t resist kissing him again. “It’s been a lot. But…I’m glad I did it all with you.” 

“I’m so glad you’ve been here. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You stared at him for a moment, committing the sky blue of his eyes to memory before laying your head against his chest and watching the sun sink even further below the horizon. He kissed your forehead before pressing his cheek to your hair, his hands moving to smooth up and down your sides and back. 

After several minutes—you weren’t sure how long—of silence, you finally said, “Is this easing your fear of cliffs?”

He laughed. “I don’t have a fear of cliffs. We just seem to always get in trouble on them.”

You hummed as you nuzzled into his neck. “I’ll try not to fall off this one.”

He snorted. “Don’t jinx us.”

You tilted your head up to look at him and he met your gaze, a smile gracing his face as his eyes held you softly. He seemed to have a talent for holding you in his eyes—something you’d never experienced with a lover before, and you would forever cherish it. You tangled your fingers in his hair again and kissed him, reveling in the feel of him squeezing you tightly and returning the gesture with enthusiasm. You doubted you’d ever tire of his taste, his smell, or the feel of him both under your fingers and through the Force. After three blissful years, he felt like a part of you and had admitted on several occasions that he felt the same about you. You tried your best to convey that with your body as his lips slid in perfect synchrony with yours. You gently reached out through the Force and could feel his love flow back to you, along with a sudden nervousness that perplexed you. 

Your lungs finally burned enough to force you to break for air. He panted a bit with you and laughed breathlessly. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, just as out of breath. “I just wanna kiss you forever.”

He held your gaze for a moment and your heart skipped a beat at the blush that suddenly bloomed up his neck and the tips of his ears. “You could…if you wanted to.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly in your confusion. “Kiss you? I thought that’s what I was doing.”

“No, I mean…” he took a deep breath, “the forever part.” Before you could formulate a response, he continued, suddenly shy. “You’ve made my life incredible and I’m so glad I found another Jedi—and that Jedi was you. You’re so…” he stuttered an inhale again, his eyes glassy, “brave and selfless and kind and just…you have the most wonderful soul, wrapped in the most beautiful person in the entire galaxy.”

You didn’t bother to hold back the sudden flow of emotion from the Force. “Luke…”

“I…” he glanced behind him and stepped out from the circle of your arms. “I didn’t really have a plan fully formed yet and I hope this is all right, but…this just feels like the right moment.”

You frowned. “For what—” You felt your eyes nearly bug out of your head as he got down on one knee, pulling a small box out of his pocket. Your hand that wasn’t clasped in his flew to your mouth of its own accord. “Kriff, Maker, Luke.”

He gently flicked the lid open to reveal a simple, elegant, and timeless band with three stones in the middle: a circular centerpiece with two smaller stones bordering it, all your favorite color. 

You were already nodding before he could even say anything and he emitted a watery laugh. “Will you marry me?”

“YES!” You crashed against his chest, sending you both tumbling to the ground. 

He held you tightly and laughed, and you could feel his elation through the Force. “Yes?”

“Yes,” you repeated, pulling back and kissing him hard. 

The beam that overtook his face would’ve been enough to make anyone giddy—and knowing it was now all yours, forever, made your stomach somersault in a way that jerked tears from your eyes. He carefully sat you both upright and took the ring from the box, tenderly sliding it on your left ring finger and letting out a relieved breath. “Perfect fit.” He reached up to wipe a few of your tears away with his thumb. “Do you like it?”

You nodded. “It’s perfect. Where did you even find this?”

“Do you remember when we went to Naboo and the Naberries gave Leia our mother’s wardrobe? This was one of her rings. She couldn’t wear it since their marriage had to stay a secret, but my father bought it for her for their wedding ceremony.”

Your heart swelled. “Are you sure you want me to have it? Leia’s okay with this?”

He nodded. “She even helped me pick it out.”

Your mind flashed back to your most recent Naboo excursion. “Wait, when she very loudly said the ring didn’t fit her, shoved it on my hand, and yelled out the size—”

Luke chuckled. “We may have been conspiring.”

You laughed and shook your head, sniffling as you admired how the last rays of sun reflected off his cheekbones. “I love you so much.”

He rested a hand on the small of your back as the other cupped your cheek. “I love you, too.” He laughed. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

You buried your face in his shoulder as he squeezed you tightly. You would’ve been content to hold him forever, but darkness was beginning to settle over the planet and traveling the already hazardous footpath in the dark probably wasn’t the best idea. “So does this mean you like cliffs better now?”

He laughed, giving you a gentle pat on the butt like he always did when it was time to extract yourself from his lap. The pair of you helped each other stand and he placed one final kiss on your lips. “Yes, this definitely helps the track record—but we should head back before something happens, just in case. Plus, Leia’s going to be thrilled.”

#luke skywalker #star wars #luke skywalker x reader #star wars x reader #luke skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #luke skywalker fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars remnants #my writing

[someone-took-lost]

it’s aj kiddos time ! each of which i am pretty happy with, particularly creme and empire. though unfortunately once more, i don’t think i’m keeping one of ‘em. particularly liberty. he’s not a character i preference writing for, and i just don’t think there’s any plot point he could be used for. so he’ll be available for adoption later~ anyways! 

great banquet [she/they|pansexual polyamorous|youngest]

boisterous and loud , banquet has always had a sort of “old family soul” to her. she’s a wild spirit, who will shout to the absolutely high heavens about how wonderful those closest to her are. and how much she loves and adores her siblings, cousins, mom, ma, uncle, aunt, cat, dog, mouse, sheep--everyone really! her favorite past times are making huge feasts for others, and sharing all the love that comes with the food she serves. and no matter who you are, how long you’ve known each other. big banny will be there to give you a hot meal, and warm hug .

apple creme brûlée [she/her|lesbian|oldest]

hot-shot business mare, creme is the headstrong, anchor of her family. she’s a strong armed fighter for her family’s ability to stay afloat, for more than just their farm. and she’s a entrepreneur aimed to expand her catering business, while also dreaming of opening up her very own high-end restaurant one day! her mother on the other hand, tries to keep her much more “grounded to reality” and lead her to working only on the business side of sweet apple acres. causing the two to butt heads quite a lot, as creme’s big aspirations fight against aj’s small town, near and dear-close family mindset.

liberty lionheart [he/him|straight|second oldest]

seeker of truth, pillager of lies, strength of the ponies--liberty is the great and powerful arm of the civilians. the activist of all rights for those who seek them! he is always there! dedicating himself, and all with the voice to do so to speak up and tell the world what he thinks! he will not be silenced! this devoted stallion is the “voice of a generation” as tabloids would say. he’s a kindhearted pony, who seeks to use his passion for those who can’t find it in themselves to. liberty spends his days protesting in towns, making headlines, and tying himself to trees so they don’t get destroyed. and one can’t deny his dedication,,,one could try to get him to relax. as he always seems to find a way to bring up the exploitation of the earth ponies in the lower class every time he visits, and while his family would love to talk more on that! they’d also like to get to know more about what he’s been doing, and how he’s been feeling-and oh. guess not! it’s protest time!!

empire estate [he/him|bisexual|second oldest]

prim, proper, and elegant in most all ways. empire is the pretty face of the blue-apple siblings. he’s cool headed, and speaks only when he deems most necessary. he’s a pretty secretive guy, who doesn’t exactly fit the whole “vibrant-family man” that one would expect of an apple family member. but he doesn’t especially care. empire keeps to himself mostly, and rarely is found doing anything but working. he is very wise when actually getting him to talk, and has a lot of introspective thoughts and perspectives. but his persona doesn’t exactly tend to get that from him all the time, so most ponies opinions on the guy is “mysterious and pretty.”

#art #digital art #artwork #oc #ocs #illustration #horse #horses #mlp #mlp fim #my little pony next generation #my little pony fanart #my little pony friendship is magic

[mermaidsirennikita]

Hi, any recs with businesswomen?

Contemporary or fictional are also good but I am more interested in historical. Their struggle to establish themsleves and staying firm in the face of heavy disapproval and sabotage from everyone, tells us how much comfortable we are living of course women still face so many problems but we are much better off than them.

Something along the line of Nora Robert's Bride Quartet (Though I only like Vision in White, rest are kind of boring) so as a group or even if fmc is doing it on her own also works.

Thanks

For sure!

Lorraine Heath actually just did a book big on business--In Want of a Viscount. The heroine essentially inherited this invention/floundering business from her father, and the hero is a part of a group of investors she's pitching to. Her passion about being a businesswoman is a big part of the book.

Sierra Simone's Molly O'Flaherty books are big on how passionate Molly is about her business and what she's done to keep it afloat. She runs a shipping company. The series is VERY racy and SA does factor in as part of Molly's backstory that still haunts her, so be aware. However, I found her romance with Silas, the friend she realizes she's been in love with a long time, quite touching. And also hot.

When a Duke Loves a Woman by Lorraine Heath has a heroine who runs a tavern and is determined to stay independent, which is a big part of her internal conflict. She's also lower class, which I love.

In Grace Callaway's Lady Charlotte's Society of Angels, the heroines are all a part of a lady detective agency, basically (it is Charlie's Angels But Victorian). It's super delightful and I was really into the female friendships. The first four books are about the "employees" for want of a better word (I mean I honestly don't know if these girls get paid lmao) but the last one is about Charlie herself, who runs it. I really loved her attitude.

Melissa and The Vicar by S.M. LaViolette stars a heroine who runs a brothel (fairly and ethically). Looooove this book, though the heroine was sold into the trade as a child so be aware. M

In Which Winnie Halifax is Utterly Ruined by Alexandra Vasti focuses on a heroine who runs her own farm, which is why she's in the plot predicament she's in (to avoid issues, she made up a husband who happens to have the hero's name, and when he finds out years later that he apparently has a wife it's problematic). Not a huge part of the book, but an aspect I found added a fun spin to the romance.

The Duke Gets Desperate by Diana Quincy has a really interesting take. The heroine doesn't initially run a business, but she's American and inherits a castle that's basically crumbling and very in the red financially. So she's like "well, we either sell it or we make it financially feasible", which puts her at odds with the hero, a duke who a) doesn't want to admit she's inherited over him and b) is horrified that she wants to do things like give PAID TOURS!!! GASP! of the castle.

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller is GREAT on this front. The heroine runs her family's hotel, which has been passed down through the generations. But it's about to go under, so she's also scrambling to find a way to keep it afloat. It's a huge part of her character.

A Caribbean Heiress in Paris by Adriana Herrera--another great fit. The heroine is in Paris to essentially sell her family's rum distillery to investors and get them on board. An excellent example of what the historical romance genre can do with businesswomen if it wants to try.

Devil in Spring by Lisa Kleypas--the heroine is still in the early stages, but a huge part of her character is that she wants to build a BOARD GAME EMPIRE!!!!

Devil in Disguise by Lisa Kleypas--the heroine runs a shipping business she inherited from her late husband.

Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean--a big part of this book is that the heroine is very excited about getting into the family business and pushing forward. Daring and the Duke also has a heroine who runs a business; she's a madame, but her club caters more to women. Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover also features a club-owning heroine.

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs

[karlheinz-sama]

👬

Muses childhood

tw// suicide, mentions of child abuse

Look after each other...

"All children must begin somewhere, after all, they are biologically wired to crave the love of their parents; so what a pity for those who strayed, some still hear the breaking hearts"

It's hostile, to say the least, Karl is no exception or outlier to the generational trauma that is instinctively bound within the Sakamaki family..

The environment he grows up in is also a lot different, it’s very censored and elitist on what information you are fed, his family house is this traditional design of roman architecture, that inspired the Romans to build the Domus Flavia.

During his childhood the more tame parts are spent in droning lessons, listening to his sisters talk about balls and people and male nature, and his mother and father fighting. His older sister would read poetry with him as they discussed the fragmented society they lived in before he called her stupid and she called him a moron and another one of their squabbles began till his other sister twisted both their ears, and he would sneak away from balls with his sisters to bring out his paint palettes to try and re-create the stunning exotic scenes smearing the colours over each other official clothes, and on the toughest of nights, they’d all fuddle in his oldest sisters room listening to the shrieks of his parents as his sister muttered it’ll be fine if we look after each other over and over and over… Till the sunrise.

 Karl got bored easily as a child, it’s been a habit since young to pick up as many things as possible so he doesn’t feel the gut-wrenching knots that coil within him making him feel oh so empty.

He takes up classes upon classes feeling no fatigue as he absorbs information like a sponge, from medicinal herbs to the current cabaret fashion, the art of warfare to painting scenes that beauty encompasses far more than the eye, if there is one thing he truly and wholly enjoys is the pursuit of knowledge. He’s a massive nerd.

His father is far worse than he is but at the same time Karl did go mental along the line, he officially has 9 wives and countless concubines; not for any political or moral reasons like he plunged his country into war and sent off the young male heirs of several families whilst he stayed cooped up in the capital thus he decided to marry the widowed women with no protection, or perhaps the young ladies unable to keep their families afloat in the destitute war. No, he did start several battles, and animosities with the surrounding countries but he turned a blind eye to his responsibilities to chase skirts all over Makai. He even went further with his heavily misogynistic views to shun the women whose husbands, fathers, and brothers went off to war and unfortunately died as used and made it taboo to help them without being ridiculed. Moreover, he was the first person to put in statute laws that women would not be able to inherit their fortunes or family titles but rather they'd be donated to the crown for the war effort.

Karl was born in a stalemate between the countries, the actual troops on grounds had been retracted but now it was time for post-war diplomacy, he grew up amidst assassinations and plots from both outside and in, and he watched as hyperinflation took over the empires and ministers and warlords broke into squabbles like children, he watched refugees enter looking for any income possible, Karlheinz was raised amidst intense paranoia and a bleak future.

However, he was part of the royal family, so as chaos descended upon the people, he and his family were stuck in a competition for the throne. See with a father who had sired so many, tensions were due to be high especially due to the fact everyone hated the incompetent man and wanted him off the throne as fast as possible, especially before the frenzied public got their wits together and started attacking the government and organizing coups.

This was of course hidden under lavish balls, and mock fights between brothers to map out allies and enemies, with everyone but yourself against you the mind games started getting to everyone fairly quick, those who wanted no parted either willingly left the capital in fear or those who were not adaptable enough had the luckier fate of death or the unluckier one of ostracization and exile with humiliation attached to their family.

Everyone would attempt to display wealth, constantly rebuilding their manors, hunting houses, or sending out dinner invites of 16 courses with the unmentionable amount of money spent to show off and prove (bribe) to the nobility whose side they should take when it finally came for the showdown of who would take the crown.

His mother was no better, his mother was already a calculative and cutthroat figure before she entered the Sakamaki household, well she only got worse from there. 

To her, Karl and his two older sisters were no more than extended parts of her; she would goad her magnificent children and practically glow as she received praise for birthing such talented prodigies. 

His oldest sister was a talented dancer, music flowed through her limbs as she twirled in golden ballrooms, her bejewelled plum gown trailing behind her as the nobles looked on in awe and envy.

His other sister was a talented linguist, who had not only mastered the demon world’s languages with all its dialects but even learnt more than a dozen of human tongues.

Of course, Karlheinz being one of the obvious choices was pretty much perfect, but his talents in awakening his powers came especially young, everyone in a state of terrified wonder at his mind control and other magical enhancing abilities.

But behind closed doors, she would obsess manically trying to keep her children pure from the outside filth, telling them they were the best of the best and how all their other siblings should've been culled because with them here there was no need for them. 

Sometimes she’d sob in her second daughter’s arms nearly every day telling her what her father did to her and how much she despised him ( crooning at the attention and comfort she was bestowed, clutching onto the child’s arms nails carving crescent-shaped scars as she wailed, and she was especially attentive to her eldest daughter, a perfect lookalike of herself, she would monitor precisely what clothes she would wear as she sent her out on meetings with eligible men ( sometimes thrice her age as she lived through her, marvelling at how much the men would’ve adored her if she hadn’t been the queen), marvelling over a younger version of herself that only became prettier as the days went by stroking her soft cheeks, and silver hair, she even apologised for the bruises that she left on her in fits of jealousy.  It wasn't her fault that their father held her captive within this estate. If all her kids had freedom, why couldn't she? It just wasn't fair.

Oh and her precious baby boy Karl, he would never leave his mother’s side would he? She loved dolling him up, always spoiling him with whatever he wanted. All he had to do was listen to mommy right and if he didn't listen she would have to discipline him. He didn't want that right? 

After all, the pale circular scars on his shoulders spoke for themselves, every time she thought her son might be getting too full of himself, she bought him back to earth like a good mother; pressing the sharp point of her heel into his back, his face held down on the floor as she made repeat what he had done wrong and apologise.

Karl considered himself rather lucky, some of his other stepmothers were far too adventurous in their methods of seeking entertainment through their children.

His most complicated relationships are actually with his siblings; as he’s part of the middle generation in between the 40-year-old mid-life crisis children his father had when he was still young and the 10-year-old children that still ran around the manor in innocent joy, he’s almost come to grow fond of them. Of course not as real people he has never had the emotional range for that but as storybook characters, whose lives he watches develop, he looks at their frivolous adventures, their strenuous turmoils, and mundane domestic life.

This is why when they die so easily even as great vampires it wounds him so, he hates it he does. It’s a tragic thing. It starts with his sister, some foolhardy man who let her rejection of his proposal become a matter of his pride and he accused her of treason with the other demon clans under the cover of seeking linguistic enrichment, his father already senile and paranoid didn’t even look twice at the blotchy evidence before sentencing her to death.

That's where it starts for Karl he always knew he was one among the three of his fathers who were most likely to be crowned whilst he frolicked around with his many occupations but now he supposes he had to finally step into power.

But it didn't stop no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't even the one killing them at this point. It was fate, how unfair was that?

His older brother who taught him to horse ride killed himself in the grief of watching his family get ripped apart. He was always too sensitive.

His other sister was assaulted by her womaniser husband, forced to give birth to two stillborn babies and hired a hunter to shoot her through the head. He found her body clutching onto the small baby shoes she ordered their old nurse to make.

Another sister one of the infamous lanky twins passed away in a political assassination that ended up a mistake. He sent the body to her family and received the letter saying her mother killed herself in grief orphaning one of his brothers.

One of the twins couldn’t bear his brother’s assasination and lay in front of the new flying machines, it ripped him into pieces that not even vampire regeneration could fix.

He watched one of his brothers poison his entire family to get revenge on his abusive mother. By the time Karl arrives with the knights he sees his brother on the floor after committing suicide holding hands with one of his sisters, his daughter his two older brothers slumped on the dining table as well as his wife.

A couple went insane, some became hollow shells of nothing but grief, some even more vindictive, the halls no longer filled with the laughter of mischievous children.

Karlheinz Sakamaki was formed in the bleakest of misfortunes.

So he brought the great purging disappearing for months till he came back down from the highest northern terrains in between the vampire and Adler border, an eerie sense of death surrounding him piercing gold eyes instead of his honey brown orbs, then he wiped out nearly his entire bloodline. Establishing himself as the tyrant king; he re-started the entire vampire clan, started wars with him on the front lines, and brought back diplomacy and riches. Not a single living citizen could deny their standard of living had skyrocketed.

Now the actual logistics of the purging is something I'll have to get into another day.

#jesus this is massive #my bad #clearing out the askbox #and my drafts actually #tw #diabolik lovers #diahell #karlheinz sakamaki #shu sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #yui komori #dl headcanons #diabolik lovers headcanon #karlheinz lore #whoever reads all this yay ig

[adastrafanfic]

Archive   ♦   Chat   ♦   Forums   ♦   Tumblr   ♦   Dreamwidth   ♦   Twitter   ♦   Pillowfort

Ad Astra News - 7/2 - 7/8

State of the Archive

Okay, so listen up. This is important.A lot of people coming to Ad Astra have never been a part of the Ad Astra community back when we were still running on eFiction. They're new authors from AO3, especially, who are used to a certain kind of culture and looking for alternatives to AO3; that culture is often far more passive in its consumption and less interactive in general. While AO3 is an incredible resource, it's not really a fan community. That's not meant as a disparagement; AO3 serves its intended purpose (maybe even too well) of being a place where everyone can safely archive stories. It is not, though, a social platform, nor was it meant to be.

Ad Astra is, by contrast, a community. When you're over here archiving your stories frantically, distressed by what's happening with OTW, you're stepping foot into a place with a very long history that has been kept alive by a relatively small number of people who love it. Who have paid for its survival for years, even when we were broke and literally scraping change together from the core community to keep afloat. Even when we were quiet. Even when we lost two of our own to death by illness. And even when it felt hopeless. We have been, for almost fifteen years, a circle of people -- sometimes larger, sometimes smaller, sometimes just a few die-hards -- telling each other stories and celebrating each others stories around a campfire. This is what you're coming into. So I need you, the new people, to understand that you aren't owed this space. We invite you (general you) into it, and we will gladly -- joyfully -- fold you into our community, but you aren't entitled to this. If you want it to survive, if you want the efforts of those of us who have poured incredible hours of time and money and effort into this just so we could offer it to you for free to continue, then do your part to keep it alive. Celebrate your fellow authors. Write comments. Write recs. Talk on the forums, join a rewatch, host a rewatch. Join the weekly challenge. Get involved. (And, you know, follow my tagging rules and stop trying to sneak around them. LOL! I see you. If it's not useful for universal search filtering, it doesn't belong on the archive and I will cull it with glee. XD) Any fan community starts and ends with its people, not with its platform. I know you like the platform. Now come and celebrate the people, and let us celebrate you, too. Thanks.

Weekly Challenge #10

For this challenge, you get to take a look at a 'turn right' AU. Or left. Or backwards. Pick a canon moment or a moment in the lives of a character, one of your OCs or even just in the universe and explore, in 100 to 700 words, what might have happened if it played out differently. If a different person stepped in front of the disruptor fire. Or if someone had a nightmare and backed out of that assignment. The sky's the limit; interpret however liberally or strictly as you like!

If you post it to the archive, add it to the Weekly Challenges collection with the tag Weekly Challenge: One Reality Over and post a link here in this thread so we can go see!

Challenge ends at 11:59PM Eastern on Friday, July 14th!

Also, a special shout-out to Beatrice_Otter, who was a total MVP this week by compiling about 90% of our Stories Archived section for me while I kept settling in to my new job. For real, she was amazing and thank you so, so much for the help, Beatrice.

Stories Archived

Star Trek: Discovery

by lah_mrh A Light in the Darkness - T - Michael Burnham, Saru, Philippa Georgiou Know You Better Now - T - Ash Tyler/Christopher Pike Yours If You Want It - T - Ash Tyler | Voq/Christopher Pike

by nonelvis It's All We Know Now to Never Go Back - Explicit - Gabriel Lorca/River Song The Winter Festival - G - Gabriel Lorca/Katrina Cornwell War Games - T - Gabriel Lorca/Ash Tyler A Quiet Empire - T - Gabriel Lorca/Michael Burnham

by Pixie Fear of Falling - M - Gabriel Lorca/Katrina Cornwell Soldier or Musician - G - Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets, Sylvia Tilly I can feel the flames on my skin - T - Gabriel Lorca/Katrina Cornwell Dracarys - G - Katrina Cornwell/Phillipa Georgiou

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds

by lah_mrh Waiting It Out - G - Christopher Pike & Una Chin-Riley | Number One by StarryEyes2000 Extra Scenes, Codas, and Other Stuff (SNW Season 2) - T - Ensemble Cast Captain Honorary Dad - T - Christopher Pike, Ensemble Cast

Star Trek: The Original Series

by IDICdreads What If We Could - G - Spock/Christine Chapel There is no pain. - T - Spock, James T. Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Oh, the places you'll boldly go! - G - Ensemble Cast

by jamaharon Please - Explicit - Spock/James T. Kirk Mating Season (So to Speak) - T - Spock/James T. Kirk Hot Springs - T - Spock/James T. Kirk Care - G - Spock/James T. Kirk Leaving the Table - G - James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy

by lah_mrh Tea and Sympathy - G - James T. Kirk & Spock

by SLWalker Cinderella in a Party Dress - Teen - Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Montgomery "Scotty" Scott Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace - M - Montgomery Scott (Mirror)

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series

by daraoakwise If Only In My Dreams - T - Leonard "Bones" McCoy (AOS)/Montgomery "Scotty" Scott (AOS)

by StarryEyes2000 Dating Advice - T - Leonard "Bones" McCoy (AOS), James T. Kirk (AOS), Spock (AOS)

Star Trek: The Next Generation

by baktag To Boldly Go - T - Data & Guinan

by intothisshadow [Graphics] Star Trek TNG Wallpapers - G - Beverly Crusher, Deanna Troi

by jamaharon Earl Grey, Hot - G - Jean-Luc Picard/William Riker Death Letter Blues - G - Jean-Luc Picard/William Riker Wild, Wild Young Men - T - Worf/William Riker Odysseus to Telemachus - M - Thomas Riker & Kyle Riker Cat Puberty - G - Data, Geordi La Forge, William Riker Mood Indigo - G - Deanna Troi/William Riker Conjoined - T - Deanna Troi/William Riker, Thomas Riker/Worf Parallels - G - Guinan, Ro Laren Live - M - Deanna Troi/William Riker Phantom Pain - T - Deanna Troi/William Riker A Bridge of Brass - T - Thomas Riker & William Riker Haptics - G - Data/Geordi La Forge Changes - M - William Riker/Data Starlines - E - Jean-Luc Picard/William Riker Noli Me Tangere // Touch Me Not - M - Deanna Troi/William Riker The Enterprise Gets a Sex Change - T - Ensemble Worf's Warlike Battle of the Arms - T - William Riker/Worf Five Times Riker Staked His Claim + One Time Worf Staked His Instead - Unrated - Deanna Troi/William Riker/Worf Five Times Riker Didn't Want to Have Sex + One Time He Didn't Have To - E - Deanna Troi/William Riker Absent in the Spring - T - Jean-Luc Picard/William Riker

by kimaracretak the tidings from our fading sun made me wiser - T - Deanna Troi/Ro Laren

by Pixie Lefler's Law 17 - T - Robin Lefler/Sito Jaxa

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

by jamaharon Just Doing His Job - G - Elim Garak/Julian Bashir

by kimaracretak the sky stirred - T - Winn Adami

by LordRobertBruceScott Star Beagle Adventures Episode 1: The Eye of the Beholder - Teen - Pel, original characters

by Pixie Meet Cute - G - Elim Garak/Morn

By sixbeforelunch Soldiers Were Children Once - T - Quark

Star Trek: Voyager

by nostalgia Where No One Can Hear You Scream - Mature - Kathryn Janeway/Chakotay

by Pixie Morale - G - Tuvok, Tom Paris Kindred - G - Kathryn Janeway & Tuvok, Kathryn Janeway/Tuvok,

Star Trek: Picard

by jamaharon The Drowned Girl - G - Deanna Troi/William Riker Head Like a Haunted House - T - Jack Crusher/Borg Queen Safe and Sound - G - Geordi La Forge, William Riker Nothing Heavier - T - Jean-Luc Picard/William Riker/Deanna Troi Boys Don't Cry - G - Deanna Troi/William Riker

Star Trek: Prodigy

by Pixie Limitless - G - Kathryn Janeway, Tuvok, Gwyndala, Jack Crusher

Expanded Universes

by DavidFalkayn Bellerophon: Into the Unknown - Mature - Ensemble Cast Opening Moves - Mature - Multiple Relationships The Big Dance - M - Ensemble Cast

by Gibraltar The Plebe - NR - Liana Ramirez

#st:dsc #st:tos #st:aos #st:tng #st:ds9 #st:voy #st:pic #st:prodigy #trekfic #star trek fanfic #star trek fandom #ad astra fanfic

[contes-de-rheio]

Masterpost

Hi y’all!! I’m Julie (French, mid-thirties, bi). I’m not new to writeblr, but I like only post sparingly my own content now. Life’s been too busy.

I write high fantasy, but when it comes to reading I also enjoy SF and history (essays, not novels). I’ll follow from @julie-oc, and I have a secondary blog @fukusigma where I reblog a bit of everything. Feel free to tag me in games (except for “Search the Word”, this is too difficult because I write in French).

Click to learn more about my wips. Some titles and summary may have changed since I first posted about them.

These stories take place in the same universe, but in different times and places. They're in chronological order of events.

Here, walked Marka | wip intro post | Status: unstrung scenes

Niensheria has been turned into a desert by the reckless acts of Marka and her friends. The gods, angered, force their gift her eternal yout upon her. Until she finds a way to repair the harm she caused, she will witness the fall of her people. Years pass, new generations are born, and the people of Niensheria, stuck between the desert and their unwelcoming neighbours, reduced to extreme poverty, decide to rise one last time to rebuild their lost home.

The Coriant Trilogy | wip intro post | Status: Plotting

The rise, the summit and the fall of the Coriant Empire through the stories of Hermione the warrior queen who founded the empire, then Erinye queen and protector of the arts, and finally Andromeda the last general who was defeated by the powerful queen Iseult of Aqualos.

The Living Library | wip intro post | Status: unstrung scenes

Zhou has faithfully served the Emperor in his quest for the Living Library, but after one too many massacre, he decides to retire from the political affair. For a few years, he lives peacefully as the only healer in a remote village, until people come ask for payback.

The Dragons of Jamaedo | wip intro post | Status: 1st Draft

The Choo royal family reigns over the archipelago of Jamaedo with an iron hand using magic, it reserves for itself, to snuff out all revolts.

Goo Mihee, eldest daughter of her clan, must marry a man she has no love for: Choo’s Dog, Kwon Taeyeon. But, as she tries to keep the appearance of a dutiful wife, the events around her only fuels her anger, until she seizes the chance to maybe end Choo's hegemony once and for all.

The pirates of Hokusho | wip intro post | Status: Researching

Takeru has risen to the top of his pirate band. But profits are drying up as the warriors from the main islands fight for power, and other pirates try to safegard their place before they're forced to disappear. Against his will, Takeru must serve a cunning samurai or see his band die. Meanwhile, Oharu is sent to kill Take's new master.

The Fall of Baschenka | wip intro post | Status: Plotting

Rinka Zima has spent most of his youth in the mines. No longer hoping for another life, he obtains the king's pardon of his father's crime and is reestablished in his titles, but not in his fortune. Struggling to maintain his family afloat and looking for his sister, he rises at Court while his city, under political turmoil, is conquered by the neighboring Valiski.

The Union of Dahran Cities | wip intro post | Status: Plotting

Forty years passed since the fall of Baschenka. The northern city-states have stallen their infights as Southern-Darah army threatens to conquer them all. In Tara, Gleb Polzin and Fenna are the two newest representants of their respective cities and must find the words to unite them all, under the eyes of a disillusioned Rinka.

The Last War | wip intro post | Status: 1st Draft - Paused

Trélyse, queen of Aqualos, is fighting what she hopes to be the last war against Niensheria. The siege on Alhamra is set and she expects a swift reddition, but, on the northern frontier of Aqualos, alarm fires lit up. Suddenly Trélyse is stuck in a foreign country, cut from her own. Little does she knows, the attack against Aqualos is just a diversion. The Memory Tower, library of sorcerers’ knowledge from the past millennium has been burned to the ground. But one book was retrieved from its shelves. With the secrets revealed within, Ketal could rise again and rebuild his empire of terror.

Shadows and Woods | wip intro post | Status: Plotting

In the capital, Niau, young police inspector who can't meet the approbation of his superiors, must solve the disappearance of a judge's son. But as he digs deeper, he only find unidentified dead corpses, until he must questions his loyalties.

Phā is sent to the capital by the prophet of his mountain village. His best friend has mysteriously disappeared, no magic can find her anymore. Only him can track her back, but her last steps only lead to Niau.

A Train in Roue-Champêtre | wip intro post | Status: Plotting

Ludélien has fallen in disgrace with the queen. No longer welcome at court, he joins some friends in Roue-Champêtre. They're working to extend the train line into the town center, but between the unexplainable crumbling of the tunnel and the angry protests of the porters on foot, their task may never come to an end.

Le Randonneur | wip intro post | Status: On hold

Ensemble of stories in various format about a world where an ice age result in the rarefaction of water and the soon impossibility to trade long distance. Two siblings, a brother and a sister, create the first flying ships which will give rise to all powerful Guild Post.

Contes à l’envers | wip intro post | Status: On hold

As a kid, Manon cross to a magical world. There, she learns magic and helps the people of that world reclaim their independance from a powerful witch who destroyed all other witches and wizards. Once this is achieved, Manon is sent back to her world, as a kid again. But she kept all her memories and, while her parents are convinced she suffers of some mental illnesses, she starts a quest to find a way back convinced she cannot be happy anywhere else.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #re-intro #some details in wips descriptions may change #in the future #especially some characters names #and plot of wips still in the middle of this process #sorry for the long post #you can also check some of #my writing tips #they're mostly about worldbuilding

[unclear-contributions]

🖌 If they spray-painted a city wall, what would they write / draw?

Emilia

🍺 What's their favorite drinking game? If they don't drink, their favorite card or board game. What's their approach to winning?

Noam

🤓 What is one thing that they "nerd out" over?

Aria

I'm @writeblr-of-my-own btw

Hullo Mx. Blr! A pleasure to see you in my inbox again.

Emilia: First of all, Emilia is offended that you would insinuate that the Crown Princess would deface public property. Second of all, she would not spray paint it herself. She would hire an artist to spray paint it for her -- a stylized rendition of the crest of the Empire, in honor of its glorious rule and kindness. Public art is an important part of displaying the wealth of the Empire, and extending their cultural reach, and unifying their national identity. Third of all, I'm pretty sure I saw her stencilling a quite amateurish, but very enthusiastic, piece of graffitti about the importance of supporting and elevating peasants. Aria and Noam may or may not have been mentioned by name or by face -- I think she deserves a little dignity, at least, and I'll grant her a little by not specifying any further.

Noam: Noam's favorite drinking game is one where he watches people drink. He will also have a drink. To participate. He likes feeling included, even if he doesn't quite understand all the intricate rules of drinking games and drinking cultures. Emilia has very interesting reactions to being drunk. He does not understand them, but she probably makes more sense than when she's sober, to be perfectly honest. Aria is too good at holding her liquor, but she likes to pretend she's drunk, to flirt outrageously with Emilia. Noam understands this, and thinks it's fun. Noam leans to lightweight, but a fast metabolism lets him drink a lot as long as he measures himself.

Aria: Aria doesn't have a lot to nerd out over -- she's mostly busy trying to keep herself afloat in schoolwork, catch up her muscle and thaumaturgic memory to the nobles, and seduce the Crown Princess. That's a lot to do! But she does find noble politics, and specifically, noble presentation-politics fascinating. She could go on for hours about the different ways that nobles deflect, obviate, evade, imply, insinuate, and otherwise modify and tamper their presentation for various effects. She rarely nerds out -- she displays this knowledge and joy in practice, because she needs to. Or at least, she thinks she needs to...perhaps she'd explain some to Noam. To help him. Explaining it to Emilia is like explaining gills to a fish.

Thanks for the asks!

#uc writes #peasant #i am inconsistent about tagging these dorks #but VOLUME is a tagging system all its own! #< blatantly incorrect

[buttonso]

Harvey had to admit it- he hadn’t pegged Aura for a reader when they first met. That had, of course, been entirely his own prejudices at play, and something he would never dream of admitting to her now.

He leaned back slightly, looking at her as she ran her fingers over the spines of the books in front of her. She already carried two leather-bound books under her arm and had an intensity to her gaze that suggested she was looking for something in particular.

The Pelican Town library was quite well-stocked despite its small size, particularly in the history section, and even more so when it came to volumes on local history, something Aura had taken a particular interest in after arriving in the valley.

More than once in the early days of her new farming career, Harvey had run into her in the library on the weekends, particularly on bad weather days. That had been the real beginning of their friendship. They hadn’t talked much at first- after all, it was the library- but the way she’d smiled at him, first with generic friendliness and eventually with open warmth, had awakened something in him he’d though long since extinguished. And eventually he had worked up the courage to comment on a book she’d selected on the First Gotoro Aggression - a short but violent affair more than a century past, that was a bit broader in scope than the local history he usually saw her with. That conflict had seen the introduction of airplanes as tools of war, and Harvey had read much on the topic from that angle, but he’d found himself curious about what aspect of the event interested her.

She’d explained that her great-great grandfather had fought in the war and spent a number of years traveling the various regions of the Gotoro Empire before returning to Ferngill to settle down in the valley and take up the reigns of the farm that Aura now struggled to keep afloat on her own. His wife, Aura’s great-great grandmother, had been a refugee dislodged from her native homeland by the Empire. Harvey had found himself fascinated by the story… or perhaps, by the storyteller. Gunther had eventually cleared his throat meaningfully, signaling that the talking was threatening the serenity of the library and they’d gone their separate ways, but it wasn’t too long after that that she’d begun to seek him out elsewhere, stopping in at the clinic just to say hello or walking with him in the park or near the river. The conversations were never long, she always seemed to be on her way somewhere, running to and fro across the valley to deliver something or pick something up.

Aura snapped a book closed and Harvey jumped a bit at the sudden sound, his cheeks heating with a blush as she glanced up at him. A smile spread across her face, a hint of mischief to it as she crooked her finger and gestures for him to come closer. He obeyed after only a moments hesitation (and a surreptitious glance from left to right to see if anyone was watching them) and when he reached her, she tugged on his tie, lifting herself up on tiptoes to plant a brief kiss on his lips.

He blinked, a somewhat giddy feeling radiating through his body.

“What was that for?” He whispered hoarsely, the heat in his cheeks intensifying when she put her finger to her lips.

“Just occurred to me I’ve never kissed you in here, and I always wanted to,” she murmured.

“Always, huh?” Harvey chuckled, trying to imagine how he would have reacted back then. Probably would have died from shock on the spot.

“Wanna go make out in the back stacks like teenagers?” She asked, tugging on his hand and smirking. The slim silver band on her left ring finger, the twin to the one on his own left hand, caught his eye. He wasn’t entirely sure that she was kidding. Even after years together, she could still catch him by surprise at times. Did she expect him to get flustered or simply to laugh?

Harvey looked over his shoulder again. No sign of Gunther or any other patrons.

“Actually, yes, I do want to,” he answered and was rewarded by a surprised snicker from his wife as she pressed her finger to her lips once more, gesturing for him to follow her.

#stardew valley fanfic #stardew harvey #farmer aura #breathe with me #I don’t even know what this is just messing around #banged it out on my phone before bedtime #🤷‍♀️

[lacependragon]

#1 Management of Your Time at Patch [title wip]

In a post-apocalyptic society trying to rebuild, Yang and Ruby are recruited to live in the town of Patch, a small settlement at the edge of the Wilds trying to expand despite danger all around. There, they learn the strength of teamwork and the joy of being part of a community that cares. Rated T. My Time at Portia meets Management of a Novice Alchemist

#2 Until Your Heart Goes Numb [final title]

It's the year 2007 in Remnant City, New Jersey, and Taiyang Xiao Long is returning to his worst nightmare: the Beacon Institute for Gifted Youngsters, where he lost Summer and Raven forever. He wouldn't return, but Ruby and Yang are in danger: people from Tai and Qrow's past are surfacing and they'll do anything to get a hold of the girls. As the Institute grows, it becomes harder to keep the existence of mutants hidden, especially as a powerful foe grows her own army of mutants in the shadows. Rated M. X-Men Evolution (among other X-Men) Verse of RWBY.

#3 In the Tomb of an Undying City [title wip]

In the futuristic, militaristic city-state of Neo-Remnant, Espers are outlawed and Dust reigns supreme. Ruby Rose is everything the city hates - hacker, thief, and Esper. Alongside her sister, Yang, the two work together to stay afloat. When a chance at a massive pay-off has them seeking out new members for the crew, the two aren't prepared for the politics or the monstrosities they'll soon be drawn into. And if they aren't careful, then the secrets beneath Neo-Remnant will soon swallow them whole. Rated E. Mistborn: The Final Empire meets Six of Crows meets Swamp Thing.

Feel free to ask questions below before responding to the poll. Please only vote if you read my RWBY fics. If you want to see results, just wait a few days.

#lace speaks #lace writes #lace does polls

[lightningandfireinmybones]

yes yes yes yes and let's just throw in a bigger age difference there for the fun of it :) val is estranged from her family and cut off contact with them (for the time being! rhaenyra and her will reunite at one point... i struggle to accept a universe where nyra doesn't love her daughter with her whole heart) and with that is completely on her own financially. ofc she's a smart girl so she said imma put this pussy to work and her friends help set her up on a fancy sugar daddy site. she goes to meet someone who seems very Serious and Mysterious (but most importantly, filthy filthy rich, and seemingly not as creepy as other men she's spoken too.. he's very polite and respectful and upfront about his expectations!), and lo and behold it's her uncle... who she hasn't seen since she was a scrawny rebellious angry-at-the-world 17 year old (and who she most definitely had a crush on growing up). And of course, aemond, who is on paper extremely successful in life is bone-deep lonely and finds all of his money isn't worth anything when he has no one to spend it on, is losing his fucking MIND because he is suddenly reunited with his long-lost black-sheep-of-the-family niece, and boy wowza she is a woman GROWN. her tits deserve to be encased in something much nicer than her little forever 21 dress!! And of course, he cannot in his good conscience let this beloved niece continue to fuck around on a website like this and meet up with predatory men, nor can he in his good conscience leave her be when he knows she's struggling financially... so he's gotta make her an offer and get her under his wing immediately.... angst and filthy filthy FILTHY shenanigans ensue....

BESTIE BIG BRAIN!!

Gonna combine idea threads

@annoying-leftist-donkey @b-vvitched Anon

Okay so in this world,,, I’m picturing Valaena and daemon getting in some knockdown fight that has her somewhat estranged from her family, with daemon cutting her off to try to a)teach her a lesson and b)entice her into coming back

Except,,, Valaena is stubborn and refuses the reconciliation with nyra on principle of the fact that daemon won’t apologize to her,,, and Luke sneaks her money sometimes but it’s not really enough to keep her in school AND in rent AND afloat with everything else

She’s determined to do whatever it takes to stay independent from her family, giving in to the possibilities her friends float of making either an OF or joining a sugar baby website

And yeah she’s self aware enough to know growing up filthy rich gave her an appreciation for the finer things (and she sold all her pretty designer things to pay tuition, she misses them), AND she knows she likes being taken care of/ordered around, maybe a sugar daddy wouldn’t be so bad

She tentatively makes an account, but is super picky and judicious about potential SD’s

And you know what bestie you’re right let’s go with age gap!!!

Older aemond who is incredibly stressed running the Targaryen empire, who has no interest in dating after Alys broke his heart, who just wants to fuck a pretty young thing with zero expectations behind showering them in jewelry,,, and aegon who never stops teasing aemond about his tastes, who is the one who suggested aemond get a SB in the first place, sending him a link to this girl’s SB profile, where it looks like she does have Valyrian features and her profile is everything aemond is looking for

And maybe,,, the picture isn’t clear enough to really make out whether it’s a scar or an imperfection of the picture or even just a trick or the light, but a scar on the hip of this girl with long silky silver hair, maybe it’s a little similar to the one he saw on his little niece’s hip all those years ago before she and daemon got in this fight and she cut off all contact with her family???

He knows logically it’s not her but his dick still twitches anyway, he’s sending her a message against his better judgement

Both of them waiting for the meet up so excitedly, aemond picking out a very expensive little collar necklace to gift her if it goes well

then, the night finally arrives, some very nice hotel bar

And in walks Valaena, surprised but not undeterred when she recognizes her uncle aemond ,,,, she might as well get a drink since she got so dressed up and came all the way down here and maybe she has very found memories of her crush in him growing up

Aemond at a loss for words for once because she is beautiful and so curvy and really,,, she should be dripping in diamonds, not wearing an off the rack dress that he wants to tear to shreds instead of having her wear it for some other man

So aemond tells her there’s no need to leave, he’ll take care of her, that if she won’t reconcile with her family and she needs the money, then he’ll simply do it, he cannot in good conscience let her wear that abomination on any more dates or risk her life with sketchy men, and in fact, he’s going to buy her a new dress right now, one befitting a Targaryen woman

And maybe Valaena is joking when she goes “oh? And what do i have to do to thank you, daddy?”

Except both her and aemond short circuit at the words,,,

#oh please #aemond just wants to take care of her #Valaena’s pride 100% in the way of her asking her mom for money #even though rhaenyra would give it in a heartbeat #that’s okay uncle aemond will take care of her😌 #ask #tdopom fic

[matt0044]

This can be a crushing defeat... or the storm before the calm.

The Empire Strikes Back is an effective second act in the original Star Wars trilogy and would be influential in story structure going forward. It’s the Darkest Hour where the villains have won or at least set the heroes back considerably and leaves you with a harrowing feeling of if hope is still worth clinging to.

However, it’s narrative function serves to make the final victory all the more earned and satisfying. That after all the bullcrap, they didn’t take the easy way out and quit when it seemed like they might lose. They fought because they had to take a stand and give the world hope that they can at least hit back.

Indeed, HBO Max could set a dangerous precedent when CEOs can just cut a show out of the picture and act like it didn’t exist. Streaming exclusive titles can vanish with doubt as to whether their masters will be left to rot or preserved for future reconsideration (also doubtful). The people in charge of these seem too big, too powerful to take down.

But even if the damage can’t be reverse, it can be remembered. It can be learned from. It can set a precedent for those in charge to be held accountable for creative properties that talent gives to them if a vocal amount can hit back. It’s not about making the killing blow but leaving a scar. A wound to a predator that lets those lower on the food chain know that they aren’t invincible.

Little short of legal action should be taken against what has been a worker’s rights violation by any other name. Creative teams should share their voice against those that have abused them and their hard work. WE, their fans, should let them know that we have their back if (and hopefully when) something comes of this.

Too long, many of us have been caught up in discourse surrounding the creators when we should’ve been punching up a lot higher. They try to act like the shows they dropped will be forgotten, burying their heads in the sand to ignore the riff-raff of YouTubers or bloggers of any kind as if Infinity Train hasn’t had massive online movements to keep it afloat.

Lest we forget of the Synder Cut. Lest we forget how Sonic The Hedgehog listened and helped dispel the Video Game Movie curse. Our voices can matter. They could amount to diddy-squat but who gets to decide that we should never try?

Simply put: I’m tired... of being tired. I’m tired of just pirating and acting like that’s all we can do. Yeah, take to the seven seas but bear in mind that those that hoist the Jolly Roger struck fear in the heart of those “good” and “proper.” Are we willing to raise our swords? Or are we just all talk?

#Warner Bros #warner bros discovery #discovery channel #hbo #hbo max #hbomax #animation #animation fans #animated films #animated television series #mao mao #mao mao: heroes of pure heart #infinity train #infinity train book 5 #I stake my life on it

[annisthree]

Chapter VIII: Ghosts of Geonosis

previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~6k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence

Chapter summary: Marla, Cassian and K2 are following the clues discovered by Melshi. It brings them to Geonosis.

A/N: Why yes, I did steal the title of this chapter from Rebels.

Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

*

('Friends of yours?'

'I don't know anybody here. I'm a tourist.'

'Tourists don't run.'

'I'm just going to the store, it's right there--'

'You need to calm down, sir. Droid assistance, please.')

Over the past couple of years, Cassian tried his hardest to hide certain memories in those parts of his brain he never visited. To compartmentalise, to accept and move on.

But, much like an overzealous shore trooper on the Niamos beach, the memories would always catch up. And though the chances of him being captured and arrested were significantly lower this time (he'd gotten much better at this in the past few years), he still couldn't escape that weird feeling that had his stomach in knots, just like that time when he was waiting for his turn in the Imperial court.

('Charges?'

'Civil disruption, anti-Imperial speech, fleeing scene of anti-Imperial activity, attempted damage--'

'I'm sorry, there's something wrong...'

'I wouldn't. You've got enough trouble without a "resisting judgement'" charge.'

'I'm just a tourist--'

'Oh, apologies all around then. This used to be a six-month sentence... Six years.')

He was grateful to have been reunited with Melshi. Surprised, but grateful. But seeing him opened some doors he'd much rather keep locked, and had his brain flood him with memories of Narkina V. And there he was again, trying to stay afloat, desperately trying to force his body to push forward, to swim, even though he sometimes wanted to give in and let the cruel element claim what's left of his life.

('Don't ever look at the number. Double, triple, it doesn't matter. You're in till they don't want you. Understand? Getting out now is just a dream. Those days are over.')

Thanks to Melshi, they had the coordinates where - supposedly - the Empire was shipping parts from Narkina, the same ones that scarred his hands and his mind irreparably. Cross-checking the coordinates with their databases revealed it was an Imperial construction module somewhere over Geonosis. Their records also showed that one of their squads had already attempted to get some intel there - only to be ambushed before they could gather anything of value.

The command was a bit sceptical about sending in another team after all that time. It was assumed the location was just an excuse for the Imperial forces to set up a trap and that, in reality, it was just an abandoned pile of junk.

It took some convincing and additional input from Agent Kallus, who suggested that there might, indeed, be something left to salvage - if not intel, then at least some technology. Supposedly, the Empire fled in a rush (though Kallus wasn't able to tell them why), leaving a certain chance of them leaving behind something useful (thirty-eight per cent, as K-2SO eagerly informed them).

And that's how Cassian ended up on a painfully long trip all the way across the Galaxy, chasing something he'd spent years trying to escape.

('They're afraid. Right now, they're afraid.'

'Afraid? Afraid of what?'

'They just killed a hundred men to keep them quiet. What would you call that?'

'I'd call that power.'

'Power? Power doesn't panic. Five thousand men are about to find out they're never leaving here alive. Don't you think that worries them upstairs...? Whatever we're making here, it's clearly something they need. They can't afford to be surprised again. There'll never be less guards than tomorrow. You know that. And I'd rather die trying to take them down than die giving them what they want.')

But he wouldn't let that affect the mission. He would once again bury everything deep - although not deep enough for Marla, who, bless her heart, was bending over backwards to subtly cheer him up. She had a general idea of what had happened on Narkina V - he'd never gone into too much detail, but he had told her the story once during a very long flight that had them stuck on the Blackbird with too little to do and too much Corelian whisky they were smuggling back to the base. And, as much as Cassian hated to admit it, she knew him too well to miss the signs of his uneasiness. 

Which is most likely why the floors in the common room were... well, maybe not squeaky clean, but not sticky (to the point where Cassian briefly wondered if the gravitational systems on the ship needed recalibrating, because it had never been this easy to lift his feet from the floor).

Or why she fixed the altitude sensors, even though he'd been asking for this for months.

Or why he opened the door to his cabin one day to find Kay with a tray of actual food - which Cassian maybe would have believed was the droid trying to be helpful, was it not for the fact that the meal was criminally undercooked and otherwise inedible. No droid could be so bad at cooking. Even if their programming had been tampered with.

It was all so... nice. But there was also that voice at the back of his head that reminded him that, unlike the altitude sensors, he couldn't be that easily fixed. And Cassian wasn't sure if he could bear disappointing Marla like this, when it inevitably turned out that despite her best efforts, he was still broken and hollow.

So he politely commented on the floor, thanked for the fixed sensors, and pretended he didn't know the food was sent by Marla.

Yes, she'd seen parts of his mind no one else ever did before - but there were still those dark, cold alleys he wanted to protect her from.

'Preparing to jump out of hyperspace. Disengaging in three...'

Part of him wanted to stay in the co-pilot seat, maybe come up with some bullshit excuse, something along the lines of I'll keep the engines running in case things end up the way they usually do. Hell, maybe it would have worked, and he could sink deeper into his seat and stare into nothingness until it was time to leave.

'... two...'

But he also needed to know. He wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to, but he knew he had no choice. He had to at least try and figure it out. If this was it, if this was really where they had been shipping the parts from Narkina, then he had to know.

'... one.'

Even if he was being selfish, volunteering to do a mission that could have been done literally by anyone else. Even if he would learn that all that work didn't mean shit, that it was just a way to keep them busy and break them.

Even if it did mean something, which was probably the worst of all scenarios.

Still, he had to know.

'Jump complete.'

('Whatever happens now, we made it.')

*

'All of them?'

'Well, almost all. General Syndulla mentioned they'd met two of them hiding underground, but the scans indicated these were the only two remaining specimens. Which is what our sensors are saying, too.'

'Fuck,' Marla took a deep breath, staring intensely at the screen that was showing the results of the planetary activity scan as if expecting the results to change if she looked long enough. 'Never met a Geonosian, and from what I've heard, they weren't the most pleasant bunch, but... to wipe out the entire race? Just like that? Even for the Empire, that's... that's really fucking grim.'

Cassian shrugged, flipping some switches on the dashboard in front of him. 'Wouldn't be the first time. Probably not the last time, either.'

'Unless we blow the Empire to pieces.'

'Unless we blow the Empire to pieces,' he repeated, his lips forming a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes.

They had just come out of hyperspace, and the massive golden planet loomed in the distance, surrounded by some space debris. It wouldn't have been anything special - just another desert planet - if they didn't know what happened down there.

What they didn't know was why. Geonosis had never had any considerable importance (apart from two battles that happened during the Clone Wars, and that could have just as well happened anywhere else). They didn't have any significant natural resources, and the primary export was droids and other technology - which, again, could always be moved virtually anywhere else. Other than that, it was just deserts, rocks, and bugs. Bugs that had been deeply loyal to the Empire, until the Empire decided to wipe them out.

You couldn't really see it from space - it's not like the planet was bombarded; their intel said it was some sort of toxic gas - but just knowing that the planet below them was one giant graveyard sent a chill running down Marla's spine.

Luckily, they weren't going to be visiting Geonosis. Melshi's intel mentioned specifically a construction module that was supposed to be orbiting the planet - and, indeed, they quickly found a large, spherical station within a cloud of space rubbish hovering in the distance.

'Kay-too, are we expecting any company?'

'There is no indication of any life forms on the station. We might, however, encounter some droids.'

'Oh, I'm not afraid of droids,' Marla mumbled, toggling a series of instruments in preparation for the landing procedure.

'That is not a very wise approach,' she heard a monotone mechanical voice behind them. 'Unsurprising, but unwise.'

'Cassian, is he threatening me? I feel threatened. Can we deactivate him now?'

'We're in position. Activating vertical thrusters.'

'Sure, ignore me. I'll try that next time you wanna have-- a sparring session. See how that works out.'

'I am certain there is plenty of people on the base who would be willing to train with Cassian,' K2 asserted quietly, and Marla almost choked, trying to stifle laughter.

'You know what? You're probably right. I'm sure he has sparred with many people on the base. Maybe even most of them. Kay, do you think you can start keeping statistics--'

'Oh, kriffing hell. Are we gonna land, or do you want us to keep hovering over this stupid station until we run out of fuel?'

'Why so grumpy all of a sudden? Sounds like you could use some--'

'I am begging you to shut up. Both of you. Marla, it stopped being funny somewhere around the Mytaranor sector. Kay, start scanning the landing platform. '

'I don't know, Cassian, it sounded pretty damn funny to me. I'm sure even the tin can would be laughing if he had a sense of humour. But fine, have it your way. Stabilising...' she paused for a moment, adjusting some instruments. The ship began lightly trembling as she engaged the thrusters, positioning them on the landing pad - a large, bright space that looked... well, exactly the same way all the other Imperial docking bays did. Clean. Impersonal. Obsessively white.

Although there was something different about this one, something that Marla couldn't quite place looking out the ship's viewport.

Maybe it was the fact that no one was shooting at them for a change? Because, well, there was no one there at all. Not a single living soul.

'And... done. Landing procedure complete.' Marla did a quick scan of the instruments to ensure everything was in order - as well as to delay looking to her right, towards the co-pilot seat.

Cassian had been uneasy the entire flight. He was trying hard to hide it; she could see it - but she could also see his nervous twitching, the tightly squeezed jaw (even more so than normally), and the thousand-mile stare when he thought she wasn't looking.

But Marla was looking. And she was worried.

She had been from the very beginning, from the moment she'd learnt about the mission. She suspected Cassian never quite processed that part of his life, if only based on how little he wanted to talk about it. Even Melshi was a bit more open, even though - from what she'd gathered so far - he wasn't much of a talker either, and they only knew each other for a week or so.

'It wasn't exactly a leisurely walk through the gardens of Alderaan,' Melshi had spit out between two punches, circling Marla on the training mat back on the base on the day of their departure. 'It really got to ya. Some more than others. If you're asking about our mutual friend, I'd say he was probably in that first category.'

And she wasn't surprised; as much as Cassian perfected the art of looking like he didn't give a shit, Marla had seen beneath that cover many times now. He did give a shit, and not only about the Rebellion - although she had no doubt the Rebellion was at the very top of the list.

(She tried not thinking about where she was on that list. How far behind the cause - or maybe behind some other things, too. She was in no position to expect him to care - not more than he cared about the rest of the crew. And that was probably for the best.)

(She also tried not thinking about where Cassian was on her own priority list. Apart maybe from when she was lying in bed late at night, sleepless and haunted by an unidentified fear. Or when she was spending yet another evening in the Drunken Bantha, completely accidentally ordering that same whisky Cassian got her when they were on Coruscant.

But she never liked the results of that thinking. And not even the cruellest interrogation droid could force her to verbalise her conclusions.)

*

K2's metal feet clanked heavily against the metallic floor as he, Cassian, and Marla stepped out of the Blackbird and onto the abandoned orbital construction module. At first, it didn't look very different from any other Imperial landing pad - vast, practical, and painfully bright. But closer inspection revealed abnormalities uncharacteristic for an Imperial facility.

It looked like it was abandoned in a hurry; there was some rubble lying about, the platform ladders were still on the landing pad where they had last been used, and Marla could spot several broken or nearly-broken droids, one of them stuck in a loop of repeatedly bumping into a wall with a loud, pathetic thump.

There was something eerie hanging in the air, almost as if the station were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Marla shuddered. 'What is this place, exactly?'

Cassian stepped forward, still carefully scanning the area, one hand on his blaster. 'Good question. Kay? Can you see if you can connect to the network?'

'Certainly.'

'The surrounding moons are rich in mineral deposits,' Cassian said to no one in particular, with that perfectly schooled neutral tone Marla knew him to use whenever he was trying to cover up tension. 'Maybe this was a mining operation.'

'Maybe,' Marla replied, carefully watching for even the slightest reaction. 'But why be so secretive about it?'

'The network has been wiped clean,' K2 interrupted them, his long arm still connected to the access port in the nearby wall. 'Likely right before the station was decommissioned. As expected. I might, however, be able to retrieve some information, but that would require me to connect to the mainframe in the station's engineering room. Alternatively, we could also try to search the command centre.'

'We could split up,' Marla offered, trying hard not to sound overly enthusiastic about the prospect of escaping the droid's company for a while.

'Yes, I suppose that would increase our chances of success. In this case, I suggest the two of you start with the control centre.'

'Wonderful. Any ideas where that is?'

'It appears that this is a standard ICM-092792 construction module. Assuming the station preserved its original layout, the control centre and the engineering room should both be located on the main deck.'

'Good. Let's get to it,' Cassian said flatly, fingers still fidgeting around his holster.

'Certainly. Follow me.'

'I stand corrected,' Marla whispered as they started making their way out of the docking bay, following the droid's tall figure. 'Maybe he's not that useless after all.'

She was hoping to force some sort of a reaction out of Cassian- if not a smile, then perhaps a tiny upward twitch of his lips or an amused huff. But it seemed his mind was already somewhere else; somewhere cold and distant, both in terms of space and time. Somewhere she couldn't follow him.

With K2 as a guide, they made their way out of the docking bay and down a long corridor, passing empty storage rooms and abandoned maintenance bays. Marla didn't know if it was the sombre atmosphere of the place or Cassian's hardened expression, but not a single word was said. The silence was heavy, broken only by the occasional creaking of metal or the distant hum of a ventilation shaft, the gentle whirring of the fans almost hypnotic in the stillness.

'The control centre is at the end of the corridor,' K2 informed them after a while of meandering around the station. 'Let me know if you require my assistance. And please refrain from doing anything... reckless.' Certain that the last part was addressed directly at her, Marla threw her hands up in a gesture of innocence while giving the droid the most mischievous grin she had in her repertoire.

'Come on,' was Cassian's only reply, and Marla's heart immediately sank back to where it was before.

She followed him down the corridor silently. Her body was screaming at her to touch him, provide some warmth, absorb some of his pain through physical contact: a brush of her hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze of his hand. But she knew she would be doing it mostly for herself, to calm her own worries; Cassian's reaction would most likely be to retreat even further.

And so she pushed her hands into her pockets, focused her eyes on counting the light panels on their way to the control centre, and tried very hard to not wonder if this was how it felt to begin losing someone.

*

The main control centre was enormous. Marla had been on her fair share of ships and stations, and yet she felt almost dizzy, both fascinated and humbled by the vastness of the room.

The bridge itself was a long, raised platform, running the length of the space, with rows of consoles on either side of the walkway, sunk slightly lower than the rest of the room. At the far end of the bridge was a raised platform, dominated by an enormous viewport that looked out onto the starry expanse of space, the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. The viewport was flanked by a large control panel speckled with a dizzying array of buttons, dials and switches.

Unsurprisingly, the silence was even heavier here. The only thing Marla's ears could pick up was the faintest hum of the ventilation system and the sound of their own footsteps echoing throughout the bridge.

'I'll check the main console.' Cassian's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Right. The intel. 'See if you can find anything else here.'

'Sure. Do your thing. Let me know if you need me to shoot at something.'

Somehow, she doubted she would be of much use. She didn't even know where to start - all the surfaces were empty, the holodisplays black, the workstations clean and identical. But Cassian was already tapping something on the main console, so she decided to do a quick scan of the place. Perhaps somewhere amidst the sterile equipment, she would find a datapad labelled 'important intel, keep away from the Rebellion'.

There was a certain scent to this place, she noted while crossing the room - a scent that was barely noticeable and that Marla couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe it was the dust or the fried circuits; or maybe her mind was beginning to play tricks on her, desperately trying to deliver sensory stimuli in the otherwise bleak and empty void.

On the other side of the room, the tapping stopped abruptly, followed by a loud thump of a fist hitting a metal console. No luck, then. Marla threw a quick glance in that direction, only to see Cassian hunched over the screen, motionless save the rising and falling of his shoulders as he breathed heavily.

It felt almost physically painful to see him like that. And she knew, she knew that she should probably not interfere, that she had no right to interfere, but she wanted him to know she was there if he needed anything. Even if that meant just standing next to him and looking out at the starry sky in silence.

The distance between her and the main console was taking forever, and somehow the quiet vastness felt only more intimidating with each step she took along the walkway. And there were a lot of steps, as she suddenly realised, slowly watching her feet moving one in front of the other.

It seemed almost as if the air was weighing down on her, slowing her down and intensifying that dizziness. Suddenly, it felt like she was learning to walk, carefully placing each step, one foot in front of the other - only now she realised she wasn't sure whose feet they were, because they sure as hell didn't feel like they were attached to her body.

'Something is wrong.' Cassian's voice was suddenly close, closer than she expected, before she lifted her gaze from the floor and focused her eyes ahead. Or tried to focus, because somehow the world became less defined, as if spilling from its original containers, defying shapes and measurements.

But it didn't feel odd or scary. In fact, Marla felt more at ease than she could ever remember being. And it felt so good, so right; she wanted to sit down on the floor, close her eyes, and bathe in the starlight while listening to the quiet song of the Galaxy.

'Come on, we have to get out of here. Something is wrong. Kay, can you hear me?'

'Yes. I'm afraid I have so far been unsuccessful--'

'Nevermind that. Something is wrong. We need--'

'Something is wrong,' Marla repeated slowly, carefully enunciating each word, mildly amused at the sound of her voice which suddenly felt completely foreign.

'Hey. No, no, get up. We have to go.'

It took her a moment to understand what Cassian meant. But when she looked down, she realised the floor was oddly close. And that her legs were now pulled tight to her chest, arm propped on one knee. And that there was a hand gripping her shoulder, trying to hoist her up to her feet.

Only that she didn't want to stand up. The floor was surprisingly comfortable. And it offered a nice view of the stars outside the massive viewport in front of her.

'It seems you have activated some sort of safety protocol, Cassian. The door controls are unresponsive.' A wave of metallic thumping echoed off the walls. 'I will attempt to override them, but I must first connect to the security systems. I should also inform you my sensors are picking up traces of unidentified gas coming from the control room. I advise you to remain calm so as to avoid increased inhalation.'

Oh, so that was that smell. It made sense now. But it sounded strangely unimportant compared to the infinite expanse of space in front of her: the deep blues, the vibrant greens, and the brilliant oranges swirling together in a cosmic dance and--

'Hey. Marla, get up. We have to-- have to get out of here.'

There was a hand on her shoulder, and soon enough, she felt a sharp tug upwards. But there was something hesitant, something clumsy about the way Cassian was holding her, and before she could think it through, Marla grabbed his arm and focused all her weight on pulling downwards.

The next thing she registered was a loud thump and a quietly mumbled curse.

'You okay?' she giggled, watching Cassian fumble on all fours before giving up and sitting on the floor beside her. Marla noticed his movements were uncharacteristically awkward and unsure, as if he forgot what he was doing mid-motion.

'Yeah. I've-- I've fallen from bigger heights, you know. But we need to get up.'

'And go where? You heard the big guy. Door's locked.' Cassian frowned and looked like he was about to say something, but gave up. 'Besides. If I'm about to die, I wanna die looking at the stars.'

'You're not gonna die. Kay is gonna let us out any minute.'

'Shh. You're killing the mood.'

He raised an eyebrow at her and huffed quietly. But there was still that shadow hiding in his eyes, that coldness he always resorted to when the things he'd buried caught up to him. It broke her heart whenever she looked at him.

'I'm sorry we didn't find anything,' she said quietly.

There was a long pause, long enough for her to start silently scolding herself for saying what she did.

'I just... I really wanted to find something, you know? Something that would make this make sense.'

He sounded tired and broken. But tired and broken was still a step forward from apathetic. At least he was slowly letting her back in.

'Maybe we still will. Don't lose hope.' He let out a quick, bitter exhale and turned away to look out the viewport. 'I'm serious. We'd beaten worse odds. Remember Koboh? Or Nar Shaddaa?'

'You mean, when you blew our cover within the first ten minutes of the mission?'

'I didn't blow anything up. It blew itself up.' Marla shrugged innocently, giving Cassian a small grin. 'And yet, we made it.'

Cassian let out another huff of half-laugh, one that, somewhere along the way, transformed into a quiet sigh.

His expression was still solemn, but there was now a flicker in his eye, and though tiny, it felt more powerful to Marla than the light of a thousand suns. It felt like sitting by the warm fire after hours of travelling through the cold and the dark. Or finding something long lost that you'd already given up hope on.

She didn't understand it, but as she continued staring into his eyes, she could see the darkness slowly subsiding - and with it, dropped the burden of helplessness that had weighed upon her since the moment she first noticed that shadow lurking in his gaze.

'How are you feeling?' he asked after a while, and she realised her breathing had become heavier and more laboured. Whatever was in the air that had hazed her brain was starting to affect her body, too.

'Great,' she lied, giving him a smile that even she knew wasn't very convincing.

It was more and more difficult to keep her eyes open. Yet, she realised she wanted nothing more than to look, take in all the details of the room, the universe outside the viewport, and the stars reflected in those dark eyes, infinitely fascinating and yet familiar, overwhelming and yet comforting, and so precious, dear, disarming...

'I guess--' Cassian started after a while, eyes focused on the stars outside the viewport. 'I guess this wouldn't be the worst way to go.'

'You mean, high?' she chuckled.

His lips twitched slightly upward, and Marla felt warmth flood her entire body. 'No,' he finally said, and there was something in his tone that was equally comforting and intimidating in its softness. 'That's not what I mean.'

It took her a moment to understand. But Cassian kept looking at her, and there were no more shadows in his gaze; there was only the reflection of starlight and that deep longing, and it was the same longing that flared in her own chest.

Cassian must have understood it, too, because soon, his hand slowly moved to cover hers. And it felt right, as if his hand had been the missing piece in some cosmic riddle. It felt like his hand was made to fit hers, with all its angles and curves, and even the scar that ran between his thumb and index finger seemed to fit the cuts and burns on her own hand, matching into some sort of abstract pattern that somehow just made sense when put together.

And yes, it would not have been the worst way to go. Far from it.

But for now, her heart was still beating, frantically and loudly, so loudly that it was now all she could hear. Or maybe it was not her heart that was hammering in her ears like a battle drum; perhaps it was Cassian's, the sound conducted through whatever little air was left between them and amplified by her increasingly drugged brain.

Or maybe it wasn't a heart at all. Maybe it was the thumping of a seven-foot security droid who had managed to unlock the door and cross the length of the room before Marla even registered his presence.

'Oh, hi there-- What the hell, Kay? What are you doing?' Her initial enthusiasm was quickly replaced by surprise when she felt a strong metal hand clasping her shoulder and yanking her upward.

'My current objective is to extract you from this facility,' he replied, and Marla realised she was being dragged towards the exit. A quick look to her right revealed Cassian was in the same position. 'Please comply with my instructions.'

'Well, you're not exactly leaving us any choice...'

'It is imperative that you leave this room immediately, Lieutenant.' The droid continued dragging them both towards the exit like two ragdolls. 'It appears you both were exposed to an aerosolised chemical agent dispersed within the room's atmosphere. Based on my preliminary analysis, this particular substance was designed to impair cognitive function and inhibit motor skills, and prolonged exposure could potentially result in a state of unconsciousness similar to a medically induced coma. Which is why I am extracting you from the premises.'

'So you're saving our lives?'

'Yes, Lieutenant Reid. This is an accurate summary.'

'You know what?' she slurred, finding it increasingly difficult to pronounce words. 'You're okay.'

There was a long pause, and Marla imagined the poor droid's programming trying to process her sudden outburst of unexpected affection. 'Thank you, Lieutenant. I must, however, note that the chemical agent appears to have impaired--'

'You can call me Marla.'

'Excuse me?'

'You can call me Marla,' she repeated, letting out another small chuckle.

Another long pause. 'Noted.'

Marla was sure she wanted to say something else. Was it to K2, or was it to Cassian... Yes, she definitely wanted to tell him something, but what was it...? Hoping it would inspire her memory, she tried saying his name - but the word came out as a hoarse whisper that was quickly drowned out by her laboured breathing and the loud footsteps echoing through the empty hallways.

The lights overhead flickered and dimmed, casting eerie shadows across the walls and floor. Everything was dancing, swirling before her eyes - the lights, the outline of the door at the end of the corridor, Cassian's eyes when she looked over to her right to check on him. Wait, his eyes. That had something to do with what she wanted to tell him, but what was that...?

She looked over to her right again, but this time, there was only darkness. In fact, there was nothing but darkness all around.

And then she passed out.

*

'Good morning,' she heard a quiet, hoarse voice next to her ear. 'Well, not sure what time measurements they used on this station... How are you feeling?' How was she feeling? And why was Cassian's voice so close? And where the kriff was she? 'We both passed out on the way; Kay carried us here. I just woke up, too.'

Slowly, her senses started picking up different stimuli. There was the coldness of metal behind her back and on the ground, but her right shoulder was glued to something warmer and softer. Something that smelled like that other room they were just in, a bit like droid oil, and definitely a lot like Cassian.

I took her a couple of more seconds to register the rest. They were sitting on the floor of their ship's cockpit. Judging by the dull pain in her neck, she had spent the last maker-knows-how-long with her head propped on Cassian's shoulder - a fact that would make her embarrassed, had it not been for the haziness and overall confusion that lingered in her mind. But overall, she felt... better. Definitely more present, if a bit sore in places she couldn't quite justify.

'Why are we sitting on the floor?' she asked, her voice coming out raspier and quieter than she expected.

'Well, the two of you didn't seem to mind sitting on the floor back in the control room. I apologise if I made the wrong assumption about your seating preferences.'

K2's voice sounded somehow louder than usual. Definitely more painful.

'Where were you, Kay?' Cassian asked as he slowly began the transition to the upward position. A very awkward, very clumsy transition.

'Gathering intel.'

'Wait, so you did find something? I thought--'

'Not initially, no. But as I was escorting the two of you back to the ship, I spotted a malfunctioning astromech. It had been badly damaged and incapable of articulating anything coherent, but I managed to connect to its memory cores.'

'You... did?

'Yes, Cassian. It appears that particular unit was in charge of cross-checking the arrivals at the cargo bay with the ships' manifestos. I only managed to decrypt some routes, but it appears that before the station was abandoned, a vast majority of shipments came from - or through - Corulag.'

'Corulag? That's... next to Coruscant, isn't it? Did you find any mentions of Narkina V?'

'As I've said, I only managed to decrypt part of the data. It is possible that Corulag was just a stop on the way from somewhere else. Or that there were different kinds of shipments.'

'I see,' Cassian regained his guarded tone of voice, focusing his eyes on the ship's control panel.

'Well, it's something, right?' Marla let out a hopeful mumble, trying to hoist herself up to her feet and into the pilot chair. 'So, what. Corulag? It's on our way back anyway...'

Cassian was silent for a moment, to the point where Marla started wondering if he'd heard her. But he did.

'I'll have to report back to the command,' he said flatly, and Marla's heart once again sank at the sound of that cold tone. 'But, yes, you can start calculating the hyperspace route to Corulag. Let's hope we have more luck there.'

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original female character #andor #andor fanfiction #rogue one fanfiction #star wars #andor series #fanfic #rogue one