#Remembrance Bench

[classicmemorialbenches]

Techniques we use to depicting images on memorial bench designs

At Classic we have a number of techniques we use to depict images on our memorial bench designs and one of our favourite things to do is the colour resin inlay. There are several techniques that can be used. Here are,

✅Preparing the artwork

✅Carving the shapes into the wood

✅Pouring all of the colours

✅Skimming off the excess glue

✅clamped

[lustlovehart]

Soft Clipped Feathers

A/n: Really Self-Indulgent for Sundays realese today.

Pairing: Sunday x Reader

Summary: You’ve grown tired of staying in the hidden nest that is Sundays arms, yet you can’t bring yourself to really leave that comfort. So, you do the only thing that can alleviate this want, use Sundays infatuation for yourself. (1.3k words)

Warnings: [Yandere], Possesion, Manipulation, Implied NSFW & Suggestive, Reader lowkey plays with Sunday (And it backfires LMAO), Themes of codependency, Sunday and Reader get filthy? Very unholy you two, Tiny (Big) obsession from Sunday, Uhm they make out on the floor?? Idk if that needs a tag

There’s a certain petulance in the room you sit in. Stained windows filled with colorful sectors, unify into a beautiful image of a Dove… falling victim to the hunter who sang false truths in its flight of freedom.

“You’ve been staring at the window for quite some time.” The man who claims himself to be the representation of the holiest of days, speaks into the once-relaxing silence of the room. He displays himself as a savior, yet you know better than to trust hunters, they’ve always believed their prey to be the lone sustenance for their fortune. “It’s lovely isn’t it?”

“Not really. I just don’t feel like looking at a man flaunting his feathers.”

“You liked when that IPC worker did. Did you not?” Sunday takes a step closer, to the wooden bench you rest on, his gloved hand caressing your skin. He traces up your arm, thumb ghosting your lips, bestowing a gentle tap on your mouth. It’s akin to a kiss really, if you could count it.

It doesn’t matter though, you’ve kissed plenty of times, and it makes no difference whether you do it with or without clothes. Though, the remembrance makes you shudder. Fingers dancing on your skin, blankets surrounding your intertwined bodies. A romantic scene really, if it weren’t for the fact you imagined the cool cruel silver, to be a chilling night in penacony.

“No, that was just jealousy blinding you, Sunday.” The man pulls away, his wings fluttering ever so slightly.

“Jealousy is the trait of men with no virtues, inharmonious men.” He speaks the word inharmonious, like treason.

“Well, it seems this room is filled with impropriety then hm?” You lean further into the mahogany, hoping somehow, someway, the wood will take liquid form and drown you. Yet you know it won’t. A trio of buttons undo on your blouse from the action, Sunday watching with great intent.

A majority of your chest is now on full display, to Sunday and each piece of art in the room. The eyes in the stained glass, those sculpted pupils of those statues, yet the only gaze you feel is his. Halovian eyes dilate at the sight, he’s quick to look into your eyes when you notice his entrance.

The garment was far too tight on you, but you had no urge to change out of it. Perhaps an unconscious act of rebellion to Sundays put together attire, perfectly fitting his form.

“Your clothes are astray.” He points out the detail as if you didn’t know. You don’t have the chance to reply before you feel Sunday nudge his way into your spot on the bench, towering over you as gloved fingers quickly work to redo the buttons. “Still, it would be dishonorable, for you, if someone saw you this way.” He emphasizes the ‘for you’ as if you cared.

You clasp your hands around his, effectively pausing his movements. He inhales when you pull him down, wind rushing through his hair. This adrenaline is further ensued, when the only thing stopping him from touching bare skin, is the cloth he’s attempting to redo.

In truth, this is the only way you feel to have any control of your fate. His affections for you are wide, yet narrow too. Wide in a way you can feel yourself drown in this so-called adoration, but narrow to a point you could never fully move through it. The rare moments you have with him, where you have him in a cage, is when you entangle him in the love he sought from you so deeply.

Though, this cage will always be unlocked for a free bird like him. But for you, you’ll forever be doomed to roam on the floor, those soft feathers of yours, clipped to never breathe air again.

“If someone saw us like this, that would only solidify what you want.” Your voice is low, warm air blowing on Sunday's neck. His knee is placed between your legs, his elbow being the sole pillar from his ravish on your being. His eyes trail between your eyes and your lips, those golden optics widening when you suddenly lean up.

Now you’re truly testing a man of virtue. A dangerous endeavor indeed.

“What do you plan to do?” His question doesn’t match the look in his eyes, you should know, his eyes are centimeters from yours, and so are your lips. The wings from his head flutter down, gentle feathers caressing your skin; successfully covering the visage of your surroundings.

All that’s left to see is Sunday.

“Do you plan to do this, and go to sleep satisfied at testing my countenance?” You don’t answer him, yet again, he didn’t want a reply. “Or will you finally change your ways? As you’ve promised at confessional time and time again.”

Oh, he knew that was you?

“Sunday—” you’re cut short when a kiss is delegated on your temple, any retort dying immediately at his placating.

“It’s okay, I’ll forgive you,” His arm falls to brush your cheek, the leather from his glove squeaking at the movement. “As long as you listen.” he stops talking after the final sentence, only softly gazing into your eyes. It’s uncomfortable, and piercing. It’s a strikingly familiar gaze to that of a husband, which Sunday is anything but.

“You…” Your words are strained, it’s a pain to face the reality you willingly put yourself into with him. “Sunday…” You grit your teeth, roughly pushing Sunday to the marble floor, bodies falling in unison.

Once again, you’re left in the only position you feel comfortable, making Sunday fall victim to your charms. At this point. Your shirt has already fallen down your shoulder, and your back is on cold flooring.

You take a deep breath in, before enacting your act of rebellion to this so-called man of virtue. You shall strip this room of its purity. But, to be transparent…

There’s no purity left in this room, for it’s not a beautiful art gallery of glass and statues. It’s the home you’ve always lived in. It’s the cruelest joke of all, you have the freedom to go where you wish, but you don’t, you stay.

“This world isn’t kind,” Sunday kisses your palm as he lays his head on your chest, the soft beating of your heart turning his own. “Wait until I’ve made it so.” You’re not sure what he means, but you nod… at the time.

Maybe it’s because of his words, or maybe simply fear for the unkind world he speaks of. Sometimes, you wish for a reality where you step into this cruel world, only then do hatchlings grow strength in their wings.

Now though, wings that have been clipped, have no chance of regaining that opportunity.

In one motion, you take his handsome face into your palms, pulling him roughly to your lips, his own hands finding refuge on your waist, pulling you down into him. It’s filthy and self-indulgent, but all you can do.

When you disconnect to breathe, a trail of saliva connects your lips, a reminder of the everbinding hold he has on you. If you think positively, it could also refer to how deep this infatuation with you, has implemented itself into Sunday's core.

Maybe the simple sight of you, reminds Sunday what it is he strives to do in reality, create a sanctuary of peace. Not you though, he’s the only one allowed to feel your comfort.

You dive back in, ready to drown in the essence that is harmony, through his lips.

…

You wake up to the colorful sight of stained glass, the same sight of a Dove and a hunter invading your pupils. There’s something different though.

There’s a hole in place of the Dove's heart, the window shattered, but only in that sole spot.

The blanket draped over you slides off as you leave the marble platform, but you’re stopped when a firm forearm wraps around your waist, effectively pulling you back. You look back at the perpetrator with a glare.

“Sunday, you’re a man of manners, you’ll be late for… whatever you have going on today.” it’s a pathetic attempt to get him off. Of course it doesn’t work.

“You’re right, but I won’t be late.” you continue to stare at the image, only vaguely listening to Sunday's words.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?" Considering it’s only the morning after…. what you’ve done, your urge to be spiteful isn’t as strong as yesterdays. You wish that wasn’t so.

“You’re coming with me.” He says it so softly, it doesn’t register completely in your mind. But when it does, you wonder if the dove was attempting to warn you.

“You’re… Making me leave…?” You turn around, facing the man that continues to lay next to you.

“No, I’m making you stay, with me.”

…

It seems you’re no longer a bird with freedom to walk anywhere you want anymore either. You’re left flightless, and freedomless.

But…

“I see…” You don’t fight, not like he expected you to do. Not like… you expected to do so either. You lie back down, burying yourself into the blanket with him, burying yourself into Sunday. His arms surround you in a warm embrace.

Maybe it’s your own fault for flying into this hunters trap, with your own free will.

Hahaha, please come him with my 0 pity and 80 pulls Mr.Sunday :). Alsooo, I hope this is good, because, confession… I haven’t finished the penacony quest, only the first one 😬

[hawkette-heather]

➶| A Quiet Kind Of Longing

➶| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ➶| Summary: After kissing Kate in the training room...things turn a bit...steamy ➶|Warnings: Smut, Literal Smut, Unprotected Sex [P in V], g!p Kate, public sex? [Kinda? In a training Room], creampie, bit of edging ?, Alternate universe where you and Kate are a part of WC Avengers led by Sam Wilson. You have magic. You're a part of the WC Avengers too. ➶|A/N: New song inspo 😈 But I can't link it for some reason 😭😭[Also, currently writing my first Emily Dickinson fic!]

Word Count: 1.2K

➳

Kate's eyes widen, momentarily stunned from the unexpected kiss. A small, sharp inhale escapes Kate's lips, as she looks down at you with wide blue eyes, before she finds herself succumbing to your kiss, hands moving down to grip onto your hips, leaning down slightly to kiss you better. She slowly backs you against the wall of the training room, moving her lips against yours, before parting them, letting her tongue slide into your mouth, teasing yours. You whimper, eliciting a reaction from Kate, as she deepens the kiss, her hands roaming your body, re-familiarising herself with it, before breaking the kiss, her lips moving to your cheek, jaw, and neck.

Your eyes flutter shut, a hand moving to Kate's back, gripping on the sports bra, as one of her hands slide down to your booty shorts. "C'mere.." Kate whispers, as she pulls you away from the wall, panting softly, her hair slightly covering her face, as she sets you to sit on the bench. You're trying to calm your breathing, as she gets onto her knees, hands moving to the soft curves of your hips once more, before trailing down, starting to gently remove your shorts. You let her, eyes focused on her calloused, strong hands pulling your shorts down, before her fingers move to your panties, hooking a finger under the waistband, before letting it too, pool down around your ankles.

"I missed this...I missed you.." Kate whispers, her breathing heavy, as is yours, as she parts your legs, settling herself between them, before her head moves between your thighs, her jet black locks falling down her head, covering her face. The remembrance, of moments you used to have like this, with her, instantly hit you, as her breath ghosts over your thighs, before her lips gently press against your inner thigh, then to the other, slowly inching closer.

"Kate...please.." You manage to whisper shakily. Her head moves up, just to look at your expression, cheeks flushed, aching for her. And within a second, her head ducks back down, and you instantly feel her warm tongue drag across you. Kate lets out a sigh, as she gently kisses the middle, before going back to soft drags of her tongue. Your back arches, one hand grabbing the back of her head with weak, shaky fingers, the other gripping onto the edge of the bench.

Your head falls back, eyes focused on the ceiling, the intense sensations flooding your system, as you feel her tongue gently probing into you, her hands grabbing your thighs, gently squeezing, as though encouraging you to grind against her. To which your body instantly does. A soft moan of her name escapes your lips, to which Kate groans at.

"A bit more...a bit more." Kate whispers against you, as you grind against her mouth, seeking the friction you so need, as her lips finally wrap around your clit, sucking at it roughly, causing strings of soft moans and whimpers to escape your lips, as one of your hands fly up to your mouth, covering it to muffle the sounds. After all, you're both still...inside the training room. Anyone could walk in. Kate's tongue circles around your clit, before moving to delve back inside, gently prodding for a few seconds. And finally, when she feels your impending release, your inner walls fluttering, her head moves away.

You gasp at the loss of her mouth, your body lightly shaking, your hand still gripping her head. Kate pants, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, before getting up and unbuckling her belt. You're too out of it, feeling overstimulated, from not having your release, to hear the sound of Kate unzipping her pants, and stepping out of it. Kate's eyes are focused on you, at your dishevelled appearance, your hair covering your eyes, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving heavily. She scrambles to get out of her boxers, before a hand wraps around her cock, pumping it a few times to prepare herself.

Kate moves her hands under your thighs, before lifting you up, your legs spread out for her, as she moves a hand to wrap your slim, smooth legs around her waist, walking over back to the wall. Your head falls limp against her shoulder, hands sliding under the back of her sports bra to grab onto her back tightly, as she grinds herself against you.

"In-Inside...please..." You beg, panting heavily, forehead against the crook of her neck, as she guides herself to your entrance, before her hips push upwards, sliding inside easily with the help of your wetness. A soft mewl escapes your lips, nails digging into her back, causing her to let out a small moan, as she starts to thrusts her hips up, hands bringing you back down onto her cock, using the wall as leverage to help her bounce you on her cock.

It's all such a blur. All of this. From kissing her, due to being affected by the desperation, and longing in her eyes, to...having sex again, after a long year of not being with her. You don't know what you want. To get back with her? To be able to love her again? But that would end up like last time; after all, being in love with a hero...is...one of the most stressing things anyone could ever experience. How do you know Kate will keep her promise- how do you know she won't put herself in danger, like she always does?

Kate grunts, her head pressing against the wall, as her movements move into slow, rough upwards thrusts, hands grabbing you back down onto her, the sound of your whimpers and moans, her grunts and groans, and the sound of your hips colliding echoing through the training room. The wet sounds of her plunging back into you fill your ears, making you both desperate for your releases.

"I-I can't...K-Kate.." You gasp out, the overstimulation building up, begging to be set free. Kate whimpers, as she continues driving herself upwards into you, in slow, rough strokes, before whispering huskily.

"Let go...I'm here...let go."

And you don't need to be told twice, as your body shakes against Kate, biting down onto her shoulder to muffle your shaky moans and gasps. And at the same time, Kate's fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, continuing to bring you down on her cock, as she releases thick ropes of her essence inside you, bringing you through your high, before finally, her hips still, and so do her hands on your thighs, both of you a hot, sweaty mess..

➳

Your bodies are intertwined, your head against her chest, eyes closed. You're both laid on one of the gym mats, Kate basking in the after-effects of the intense moment. Luckily, you're on birth control, or you could've both faced the consequences of the events from half an hour ago. Your breathing is calm, steady, signifying you must've fallen asleep a few minutes ago. Kate looks down at the bottom of your head, before sighing, looking up at the ceiling. You both haven't changed back into your pants, your bottom halves naked, connected. Kate's hand moves to your hair, gently stroking, before she mumbles quietly. "What are we, Y/N?"

She gets no response, only the sounds of your soft breaths against her chest. She leans her head down, to press it against the top of your head. "If we...can't be together...whatever we are...whatever this is...I want it." Kate whispers softly, before she lets her eyes close, a hand moving to your back, keeping you nestled against her.

[sorrowsofsilence]

echo of my shadow • ns

pairing: noah sebastian!ghost x fem!reader

words: 1.7k

warnings: implied death, not necessarily 18+ but implied smut (fem!masturbation w/ mention of orgasm), mention of afterlife / paranormal existence

summary: his soul was lost, bound to find yours again in this life…and in every lifetime to come.

authors note: one of my fav movies is Just Like Heaven, and this was kinda inspired by that- and by auroras song Echo of My Shadow. I’d have to say this is probably one of my most emotional pieces other than “desolate love”, and I’m so proud of how it turned out. The “cover” pic is inspired by @veronicaphoenix s layout! (I adore how you present your work!)

“If I stay here any longer, I will stay here forever And the echo of my world will fade Will the edge of my sorrow be gone in the morning?”

Seasons changed and the years moved on, yet he remained the same.

Noah never knew why he stayed. Perhaps it was heartbreak, the loss of his love that restrained him; years dedicated to the mourning of his first and only devotion.

And as he wandered the earth he never knew what he was meant to find, until he saw you, the oak bench you sat upon withered with age.

At that moment his world stilled as his feet stopped carrying him across the gravel, the air around him stagnant as though the clock finally stopped, after all this time.

The sun was warm against your skin as the pencil scribbled across the page of your notebook. The dream was always the same, and reality faded as thoughts floated to the scene that had bothered you for months.

You sat along the river, waiting, and once his eyes met your own, the smile he gifted you made everything disappear- everything except him.

You swore he was a stranger, someone you never met before; but with each subconscious greeting he felt familiar, like a blanket being wrapped around you as you basked by a window, enthralled with the nostalgia of a thunderstorm.

It was as if his memories were being woven into an intricate tapestry, placed in your mind for his narrative to shine, ready to entangle with your own.

His voice was the only whisper evident in your realm of sleep.

As time passed the memories began to consume you, blurring the lines between reality and fiction; the image of him surrounding you even when awake.

These dreams carried on for months, and everything felt like it led up to this moment as you finally sat in the place that beckoned your name.

If he wasn’t here, perhaps you lived in a world of delusion, fated to fall into an abyss of lost vitality.

How would one mourn the loss of a dream?

As your pencil took over you let yourself rewrite his stories, the presence of him stronger with each stroke.

Noah stood further ahead on the path, a slight breeze inviting him closer, causing his long brunette hair to sway as his heart raced, knowing that pieces of himself were amongst the words you wrote.

He tried not to smile as you jot down the remembrance of him from your subconscious, watching as your leg bounced in concentration, fingers rising to tuck your hair behind your ear.

After all these years he thought you were gone. That his eyes would never find yours again.

With each step his soul yearned harder for yours, legs carrying him down the path.

He then stopped, mind rushing: what if you didn’t want him? What if you didn’t love him the way he had always loved you?

And as he stood there, vulnerable and afraid, you closed the notebook.

Shivers ran down your spine despite the sun that graced your skin, and your heart began to pound. His presence engulfed you as you pulled the book to your chest.

There was no one else in this world that could make you this nervous, it had to be him.

So, was he real?

Noah’s ears echoed as he watched you suck in a breath, leg bouncing faster as seconds passed.

Should he say something? Should he just walk away?

But then your head turned and your gaze met him, his October eyes staring into your spirit with longing.

He had been a soul with no home until he found you.

As he smiled with awe you couldn’t help but let one fall upon your lips in mimicry, the anxiety you once had leaving, replaced by the manifestation of him.

“If my life is just a moment and this world is ancient Then the light through my window will fade Young mountains, old rivers, I let them become me Right now”

Your skin grew cold as he stepped closer, and he hesitated to sit beside you for a moment before joining you on the bench.

Your eyes never left his, afraid he would disappear if you looked away.

He smiled again, and you melted, immersed in the world he had to offer.

Noah’s gaze was fixated as his eyes danced across your face, entranced, “You’re here.”

He knew you were in a different body, but you were the same soul that once encaptured his own; his very being devoted to you in every single life, until the day he perishes completely.

And although he was bound to this earth, the mere idea of you existing once again eased his racing mind, memories of the past leaving him something he hadn’t felt in a long time…hope.

“You’re not just a figment of my imagination,” You laughed quietly, almost reassuring yourself as it took everything in him to not reach for your hand, afraid to scare you away.

Noah shook his head and you studied his brunette locks, immersed in how they flowed and caressed the sides of his face. Your eyes trailed across his tattoos which had faded due to time, and somehow in the back of your mind, you remembered the stories of what each one meant.

You relaxed as he lingered next to you, his presence innately familiar and comforting. You recognized the way his hands rested on his thighs and the way his inked fingers brushed his hair away from his cheeks.

Your eyebrows narrowed in contemplation as if you’ve lived this moment before, not just in a dream. The Deja Vu made you feel like you’ve known this man for years- as if you’ve spent countless hours with him.

“Stay right here, stay in the light, my dear Until the love you crave falls in your arms, ooh I know your mind moves like a wave sometimes If you can't rise for us, do it for love”

You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around his torso, head pressed against his chest while he whispered delicate words into your ear.

It was the soul’s recognition of past connection.

“I’ve spent years searching for you,” Noah whispered, leaning toward you for a moment before pulling himself away, hesitating.

His words warmed your heart, the intimacy behind them a testimonial memoir to what once was.

“What makes me so special?” You asked, harboured by doubts at the stranger’s confession. How did he know you this whole time?

How have you not known him?

“You won’t remember,” He said thoughtfully, turning his gaze away from you for just a moment, staring at the water ahead, “Until I show you.”

The two of you watched the river carve through the sediment, years of memories washing along the path it created. Its song mirrored the echo of your love, entranced in the shadows your body created against the soil beneath you.

“I’ve dreamed of you,” the soft words left your lips as you pulled the notebook from your chest, resting its pages on your lap. Your thumb brushed along the suede cover, tempted to expose its secrets to the man next to you; but he already knew what was written.

“I know,” He replied, turning to watch you with admiration, “You called me here.”

Shaking your head you laughed, “But how? You were the one haunting my mind.”

“Your soul was finally ready.”

Noah was radiant, his skin almost glowing from the sun that shone above. He was here, and every other worry and thought left your mind, captivated by him.

You opened the notebook, showing him the pages of your words.

“You’re Noah,” You breathed, and he bit back a smile, beaming as his name fell off your tongue with an elegance no one but you could muster.

“And you’re Y/N,” he whispered, another cool breeze running down your neck as he breathed your name into the air.

⊹˚.

They were inseparable, as Noah got to know who she was in this life. He learned everything about her new being, who she became, and who she will continue to become.

But as the clock continued, the world was ready to let go of him.

He knew it would be time to go.

She stood in the mirror, her lover standing behind her. And when her soul begged for the stories of their past, he grew the courage to finally touch her, arms wrapping around in armoured protection.

Her body cooled, hands reaching up to hold his apparition as his touch passed the memories of them into her heart.

She loved him, then and now; always and forever.

How will she spend the rest of this lifetime without him?

“Promise me you won’t disappear,” She cried, staring at their reflection with the sorrows of silence embellishing her.

He leaned into her, caressing her earthly body as tears for him fell.

“If I stay here any longer, I will stay here forever Till the echo of my shadow is gone”

Noah promised her he would love her again. He would search for her in every world and every spec of existence he is to be in, just as he had finally done now.

As they laid upon her satin sheets she closed her eyes, his lips ghosting against hers in fated promises. His body sunk further into hers, possessing her being with his eulogy of confession.

Tenderness as sweet as honey, passion as strong as his dedication to her. Everything.

Her fingers danced down her skin, guided by his shadow as she pleasured herself. The breath of his touch against her desire made bumps adorn her skin, the chill from his distant lips gravitating their love.

Noah whispered to her that he would find her when this life came to an end.

“There are heroes within us, there are lovers around us They will be here forever, I know I know, I know”

She reached for him as her body clenched from intimacy, climax approaching as her chest heaved from his memory.

And as he began to fade away she smiled at him: a smile of pain and grief; of fortune and faith.

He would be there, waiting for her on the other side when the time came for them to live together once again.

Tags:

@spicywhenspeaking @calleyx13 @blackveilomens @thatchickwiththecamera @thefallennightmare

@xserenax-13 @xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch

@blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @reyadawn @silentglassbreak @lma1986

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@dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies

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[221beloved]

Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

(Link to ao3)

“John?”

John turned his eyes away from the trees, which were slowly changing their colour at this time of year, to look at Sherlock, walking next to him. “Yes, love?”

“They are eating gingerbread.”

“What?” John didn’t see anyone eating gingerbread, nor did he understand what Sherlock wanted to tell him with that observation.

“There!” Sherlock nodded to their left, and indeed, there was a couple sitting on a bench, happily munching, an open packet of gingerbread standing next to them.

John frowned. “Okay. And… what now?”

Sherlock turned to stare at him, his eyes wide, his expression almost shocked.

“John!” he called out in disbelief. “They, are eating, gingerbread!”

“Yes…?” John really didn’t get the point. “We’ve established that. What now?”

“It’s warm enough for them to sit on a bench in the park, yet they are eating gingerbread, John! Christmas is two months away!”

John blinked at the man, a little surprised at Sherlock’s outburst, then broke into giggles and nudged Sherlock’s hip.

“Wow, I knew that you pretend you don’t like Christmas, but that you’re so sensitive to people eating food that’s associated with the season, wow…”

Sherlock huffed next to him. “I do not pretend not to like it. I don’t have to.”

John tilted his head. “You seem contend enough when we’re decorating and having a nice time.”

“Well, you do like Christmas, for some reason that I cannot fathom, and since I like you there is some kind of… acceptance towards it.”

John grinned. “Hm, yes. Acceptance.”

“But only when it’s spend with you,” Sherlock added. “Only you. Well okay, Mrs. Hudson can come up as well if she needs to, but more I just can’t withstand!”

“Hm, I think your mother usually starts calling you in early October to ask you to attend Christmas dinner, right? Shouldn’t be long until her first call.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sherlock grumbled in remembrance of the yearly tradition of her asking and him refusing until the last possible moment.

“You know, it would be much easier if you’d just tell her, yes mummy, I will attend Christmas dinner, thank you for the invitation, yes I will bring John, yes, no gifts this year.”

“It would be much easier if she wouldn’t call me two times a week for almost two months to pester me about the same thing.”

“But would you come then?”

Sherlock decidedly didn’t answer that question, instead he kicked a chestnut that had the audacity to lay on the way.

“Oi!” John blurted. “Don’t you dare treat chestnuts like that.”

Sherlock looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“We used to build little figurines out of them.”

Sherlock only blinked at him. “What?” he repeated dumbly.

“Didn’t you? In primary school? They’d give you chestnuts, sometimes acorns, some toothpicks, and then you could build little chestnut men. I’ll show you a picture when we’re home.”

“That’s…” Sherlock lifted his brows almost appreciatively and nodded. “That’s surprisingly ridiculous. Bordering on hideous, even for primary school.”

John chuckled. “No! It was a very serious matter for us. Once one of us had found the first chestnut of the year we’d look forward to the day our teacher would come to class with a bag of them.”

Sherlock eyed him with a strange look, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that I’m sharing a flat with you, let alone my bed.”

John’s grin turned to a soft smile. “It’s because you love me, you nutter.”

“Yes. Yes I do. And I’ll never stop. Well, as long as you don’t start building those chestnut things again.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then both doubled over with laughter.

The rest of the way home was without any more disturbances, chestnuts and Christmas forgotten for the moment.

--

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@keirgreeneyes @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @helloliriels @221bug

[tartagliove]

LANTERN RITE CELEBRATION IN SUMERU starring ✧ zeno (cyno x zebra)

a surprise celebration, the scent of spices from home, a gifted qipao, tears of gratitude and long hugs, plump dumplings with imperfect folds, citrusy spray of peeled tangerines, lit sparklers burning in the night, a quiet walk to light lanterns in remembrance.

it's the first year that I won't be able to go home to see my family around the winter holidays, so I start to feel especially homesick when the Lantern Rite Festival is approaching. I end up telling this to Cyno—who I've started to become closer with lately—while we're both doing our own research in the library. he nods as he listens and looks oddly contemplative the rest of the day, but I don't think much of it.

on the day of Lantern Rite, Nilou delivers me a note from Cyno, inviting me to his home to spend time with our friends. I nearly decide to not go, but being surrounded by friends might make me forget about missing my family.

the sun is setting by the time I arrive at his home. the air carries a hint of star anise and other spices that remind me of my mother's cooking. when Cyno opens the door, I'm hit with scents of traditional Liyue dishes, but that is forgotten when I take in what Cyno is wearing. he's dressed in purples and gold—his usual colors—but he's wearing a qipao. his hair is half up in a knot, held up with a ribbon. he's handsome, but I won't admit that—at least, not to his face, and not anytime soon.

he holds out his hands, a slip of red between his fingers. "happy Lantern Rite," he says. "this is for you."

tears start to well in my eyes but I laugh, accepting the red envelope with a bow. "I haven't received one of these in years! Cyno, what is all of this?"

Nilou appears behind him, dressed in a qipao herself, and when she sees me crying, she throws herself at me in a hug. "he spent days preparing this for you! we all wanted to make sure you still got to celebrate the holiday. now come, you have to get changed!"

she pulls me inside, and all I can do is give Cyno a teary-eyed smile and mouth a "thank you," before a pink qipao is thrusted into my arms. I find out later that all my friends bought clothes from Dori, but Cyno was the one who picked mine out.

when I'm changed, I step outside to greet everyone else—Alhaitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, and Collei are there as well. we spend a while making dumplings, where I get involved in a debate about how to make the best folds, and though our dumplings are all a bit misshapen and overfilled, they're the best thing I've tasted in a long time.

there are other traditional Liyue dishes and snacks that they've made or purchased beforehand. we end dinner by eating oranges, to usher in wealth in the new year.

after dinner, we go outside and light sparklers, waving them around in the air. Nilou chases Kaveh around with hers, making the rest of us laugh.

Cyno ends up asking me if I'd like to take a walk with him, so we step away, talking as we end up finding a nice spot on the Divine Tree, overlooking much of Sumeru. he pulls out two lanterns from beneath a nearby bench that he had prepared in advance. we light them, both of us quiet and contemplative. they float away when we release them, drifting up and up, light growing smaller, until they are indistinguishable among the stars.

"thank you, Cyno." my eyes are getting teary again as I turn to him, but my heart feels like it's overflowing with the love I've been shown today.

he smiles, then, soft and small but genuinely happy. "I didn't want you to be alone today. I hope this helped bring a bit of home to you."

I throw my arms around him, tears starting to fall. he hesitates, then wraps his arms around me, warm and strong against my back. he lets me cry until my tears stop, releasing me when I finally pull away.

we walk back to his home, where I'm surrounded by friends and warmth all night long.

[devouredlamb]

he couldn't remain locked up in his room forever, when dakota departed, matteo decided to explore their surroundings. he visited a beautiful church, a luxurious garden and wandered into an art gallery as the day was coming to an end. he made his way from room to room, drinking in the culture, exchanging stiff pleasantries with warm locals. it was almost easy to forget the monstrosity of everything that had happened to him lately, to focus on the romance of this trip, the almost novel like circumstances that placed him here.

he stopped in front of a large painting, the familiarity of it hitting him hard. a replica of it hung in the shelby home, in august's office, to be exact. matteo found himself sitting on the bench opposite the piece, trying to deal with the emotions that hit him all at once, all over again. his barely healed scare seemed to ache in remembrance as he imagined what it would be like to see august again. @vorebefore

[classicmemorialbenches]

Restoring and Renovating Memorial Benches

Certainly! I can provide information on restoring and renovating memorial benches. Restoring and renovating memorial benches can help preserve their historical value and extend their lifespan. Here are some steps to consider when undertaking such a project:

✅Assessment

✅Cleaning

✅Repair and Replacement

✅Sanding

✅Finishing

✅Maintenance

✅Preservation and Documentation

[alexa-yukiyu]

Lasting Memories (Shanks x gn!child!reader)

A/N: Yall I am so sorry, I thought I had posted this earlier today but I just checked and I was like wait I din’t , oops. I think I COOKED, PLEASE TELL ME IF I COOKED OR NOT, read this post to see what it was inspired on, cause I don’t want to make you read it twice if ya already know

Dividers by @/Saradika

“Captain, there's a kid out there; they said they want to talk to you,” Yassop said, entering the bar

“Hmm? Hardly a place for a kid to be” he said glancing at the bar him and his crew were currently staying at

“I think you’re going to want to see this one,” he said, grinning

“Well, let’s have a look, can’t leave the kid hanging,” he said. The captain stretched his arm out. His eyes gleamed as he took one last gulp of his drink, walking behind his officer until they came outside of the bar where a small child sat at a bench swinging their legs until they spotted him coming out of the bar

They smile, jumping off the bench and facing the Captain, their bunny-like ponytails raising in happiness

“Are you Captain Shanks?”

“That’s me. And are you the one asking for me?” He says teasingly before he bends down, coming to their level.

“Yeah”

“And what’s your name?”

“Reader”

“Reader, and how old you are you, Reader?”

“Six”

“Six, young lass to be wandering around, what can I do for you?”

“Do…do you remember me?”

Shanks pauses; he tries to recall this child, this face.

“I’m afraid not, but you look somewhat familiar.”

They grin

“You were always Closer to sister; she was older; I was just two, so back then all I knew was that you meant home, safety.

Shanks furrows his eyebrows in thought

“Im sorry, Lass, but im not sure what you mean; who was your sister?”

“You must remember better her better, your former musician, Uta.”

Shanks's eyes widen as he is hit with the sudden realization. Of course, he’d never have forgotten about his daughter.

"You’re…."

“Hi, Dad, it’s been a while,” they said, tears pooling in their eyes

Shanks is utterly taken aback by this moment; his jaw completely drops in shock.

"Y-you're really...I always wondered what happened to you, and I never stopped looking, either. Look at you; you were but a tiny lass always glued to Uta’s arms last time i Saw you"

“Uta told me that sometimes she had trouble getting me out of your arms; she always talks about you, especially after the music guy took over her; she keeps saying how you saved her.”

Shanks's eyes light a loud laugh escaping him after hearing of Uta’s fond memories about him.

"I can't believe it, all of this time I spent searching. . I can't believe my little lass found me instead”

“After the bad guy, sister has been taking a well-deserved break from all the craziness, and well, I was wondering if maybe I can stay with you for a while until sister charges up?”

He grins, scooping the small child up and ignoring their surprised squeal as their feet left the ground, turning around to his crew, who had by now left the bar to see their captain’s reencounter with his child

“Lads, we got a crewmate back; this calls for a celebration!”

They look up at their father, a smile growing on their face as they continue staring at his features. It had been a long time, and they were small the last time they had seen him; the features had become blurred over the years, but now there was no hurry. They had no need to hold onto figments of past memories that needed to be puzzled together just to have a vague remembrance of what their father look as now they would have the chance to create new memories, to wake up and see the face in front of them rather than in their murky memories

“Hm? Do I have something on my face, lass?”

“No, im just happy I found you.”

Shanks gives a bright smile as he sees his kid’s happy expression.

“So are we just going to stand out here, you little rascal? Come on then,” Shanks says, carrying the small one on his hip back to his ship.

“You guys have better start being careful from now on; we’ve got ourselves a child on board,” he said, glancing back at his crew. The smile On his face, betraying any serious tone he was trying to portray

“But dad is the reckless one,” Reader piped in

“Hah? What are you trying to say, reader?! Ask Beck; I am the epitome of responsibility, right Beck?”

“No.”

“Hey! Reader, don’t listen to him; Uncle Beck is just being silly!” he fusses

“Be careful around that one; take your eyes off him, and you’ll end up on the sea.” Lucky Laughs

“OI”

Im sorry for starving you guys, I just started classes so I’ve been trying to get ahead as I always do but eventually when I get ahead I will be much laidback so I will be more consistent ( Hopefully)

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[maldaptivedreamer]

Treats and Reassurances

Part 2

Navarro needs help on the ship and you talk about the argument with Bjorn.

content: Not proofread, not entirely accurate to alien universe, maybe ooc characters, drugs/smoking, use of gwanja (ik it’s wrong), no bjorn just friends comforting reader after argument w/ bjorn, honestly almost a "filler"

wc: ~ 1.9k

a/n:  This isn't my favorite thing ever. For some reason, when I was writing this I was in a weird headspace and the dialogue feels a bit stiff. Since I've been dragging my feet posting this, the next part is almost done. Expect it soontm. Also the next part will have a reader who makes out/flirts with a woman. Sorry not sorry to all the straights lol

Main Masterlist      Next Part

The Corbelan IV looms over you. Patches of rust and scratches cover its surface. The Weyland-Yutani logo is big and obtrusive on the side of the dull gray ship. 

The lower payload area's entry ramp is extended open, its muted orange color standing out against the monotone colors of the surrounding metal.

Slightly paranoid, you scrutinize your surroundings. Looking for any sign of Bjorn. You hope he's not around, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being right.

Maintaining the ship with Navarro and Bjorn had become routine for you, a monthly chore. It's something you didn't plan on, but now you find yourself enjoying it, using it as an excuse to hang out together. It’s the one time where he’s actually civil, but you doubt that he’ll be capable of any of that after having his ego bruised.

With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you cautiously step onto the ramp. The shifting dirt beneath your feet feels like quicksand, threatening to pull you down with each heavy step. Your heart beats in your ears as you approach the ladder, reaching out with anxious fingers to grip each rung.

With a grunt of effort, you hoist yourself up into the ship. The aged metal creaks and groans under your weight. The familiar scent of rust and engine oil fills your nostrils as you make your way inside.

Swallowing, you call out. “Navarro?” The silence that follows only adds to the tension building inside you.

Making your way up to the control room, your footsteps echo in the empty corridor. The ship feels different - almost eerie. You try to shake off the feeling, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans.

As you climb into the cockpit, you knock on the frame of the entrance. Navarro is sitting on a bench, hunched over a datapad. Glancing around, her brown eyes catch yours. “Hey. I’m glad you came.” Lowering the tablet, she continues. “Bjorn was a dick yesterday, more so than usual, so wasn’t sure if you’d show.”

Climbing into the room, you release a breathy snort of amusement through your nose at her blunt words and you can feel the stiffness in your body begin to recede. It’s okay, everything’s okay. She’s not upset.

She offers you the datapad, before moving to a pile of scrap. You look over the maintenance checklist, scanning each item with a critical eye.

Turning to face you, her face brightens with remembrance. "Oh, uhh, I forgot to mention...Bjorn won't be here. Told him that he'd just get in the way." You can sense a hint of annoyance in her voice as she mentions him.

You half absorb the checklist as you examine her in the corner of your eye. “Oh and how’d he take that?”

Smiling sarcastically, she sighs and runs a hand across the back of her head. “Very well.”

Sending her a grateful smile, you hand her the datapad. "Thank you. Fixing this piece of shit takes all of my brain power and I don't want to waste any dealing with him."

As she stands up, Navarro's eyes narrow in amusement and she runs a hand along the rough metal wall of the ship. Her tone carries a tinge of playful annoyance. "Hey now, this is my ship and I don't appreciate you calling it a piece of shit."

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you scoff, "Oh please, you know it's true." Sucking your teeth in mock disappointment, you give Navarro a frown. "You know there’s one downside to not having Bjorn here. He always had the gwanja."

Navarro responds with a light tsk before breaking into a mischievous grin. “That’s very irresponsible and dangerous of you. Operating dangerous machinery under the influence. How dare you.”

As she finishes her sentence, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a sleek case. Sliding it open, she presents four neatly rolled joints.

With a mischievous smirk and shrug, she gestures for you to take one, “He owes you. He offered every joint he had on him. So… take your pick.”

Lifting a brow, you grin at her. Reaching into the case, your voice is sarcastic, “Mhmm. Is that right? He just… offered?” Placing a joint between your lips, you give her a knowing smirk, “Bet he said he was real sorry too.”

She nods sarcastically before lighting her own joint. As you both blow out smoke, her expression shifts, “What he said wasn’t true. You know that right?”

You gulp, shifting your weight and shrugging. Taking a drag, you avoid her gaze.

Navarro calls your name in a stern tone, drawing your eyes to hers, "Sometimes you’re in your head, but we understand. Whether it's mentally or physically, you need time alone. We all get it. We love you. What he said about you being selfish was wrong and we ripped him a new one for it. We should’ve said something sooner."

You take a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. The familiar buzz starts to settle in, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

"I know," you say softly, leaning against the wall. Biting your lip, you dig a toe into the metal floor, "It's just... sometimes I worry that I'm not there enough. That I'm not expressing how much you all mean to me.” 

Shrugging, you shake your head emphatically. “And I don’t want you guys to feel guilty for not getting in the middle. You shouldn’t have to and us fighting was bound to happen eventually."

Navarro moves closer, her expression softening. "Hey, look at me," she says, waiting until you meet her gaze. "You're family and we wouldn't be the same without you. Bjorn was just talking out of his ass, like usual."

You can't help but chuckle at that. "Yeah, he does have a talent for it."

"Exactly," Navarro grins.

Clearing your throat, your fingers twist the silver band around your thumb. Scrunching your face, a hollow feeling expands in your chest. Bjorn gave you this ring. Told you it was some old one he didn’t wear anymore. You didn’t even realize, you’d still been wearing it... or that you still put it on every morning.

Dropping your hands, you glance at Navarro with a lump in your throat. “I said some really mean stuff too. Stuff that he… might… probably… didn’t deserve, no matter how big of an asshole he was.”

Slowly rocking her head side to side, she shrugs. “Maybe. But he started it. Said some awful things to you and you reacted. If you’re sorry about what you said, you can apologize later. Or don’t.”

Taking another hit, she gestures to the ship. "Now, are you gonna help me fix this thing or what?"

You laugh, feeling the tension dissipate. "Yes ma’am."

The familiar routine of maintenance settles over you. As you tinker with the ship's systems, conversation flows easily between you two, punctuated by the occasional curse when something doesn't cooperate.

The quiet hum of machinery and occasional clink of tools is interrupted as light footsteps reverberate through the ship.

Groaning, you flex your aching fingers and glance at Navarro. She ignores your questioning eyes and hunches over, wiping her hands with a grease covered rag.

Watching the ladder, you see Kay's head peeking over the edge, her curled hair spilling around her face.

Releasing a breath of relief, you give her a smile. Your voice holds a pleasant surprise, “Hey, what yah doin’ here?”

A grin spreads on her face and she joins you in the pilot room, giving you both a hug. “I came to hang out. Missed you and wanted to check in on you after yesterday.” You don't miss the silent look they share and you feel your chest warm at their concern.

With a thankful smile, you nudge her and wipe your hands on your pants. “Thank you. I’m fine. I had time to calm down and I talked a bit with Navarro.” You send Navarro an appreciative glance.

Kay nods, her eyes softening. "I'm glad. We were all worried about you… Just in case you were feeling weird or anything about what he said, I want you to know that I love you. We all do."

She pauses, looking around the room. "So, what are you two up to in here?"

"Just the usual maintenance stuff," you reply, gesturing to the various tools and parts scattered around. "Trying to keep this shitbox from falling apart mid-flight."

Navarro snorts, "I thought we agreed to stop insulting my ship."

"Sorry," you grin, not looking sorry at all. 

Kay laughs, settling into one of the pilot chairs. "Well, don't let me interrupt. I'll just sit here and provide moral support."

"Ah, I see. You came here to slow us down then," Navarro says, tossing a rag at Kay.

Kay laughs, catching the rag effortlessly. "Hey now, I'll have you know my moral support is top-notch. I even brought treats." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small cube shape wrapped in tinfoil. Slowly unwrapping it, she presents squares of chocolate to you. Smiling, she carefully waves it around, “Ta-da. Your favorite.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Your chest tightens at the care of your friends.  “Thank you. Really. I love you guys.” Your serious tone indicates that your thankful for more than just the chocolate and weed.

Navarro rolls her eyes with a smirk, “Yeah, yeah, we love you too. Don’t cry, if you cry, Kay’ll cry."

Huffing out a laugh, you blink away the wetness in your eyes.

As you all silently eat your respective chocoates, Kay suddenly stops and sniffs the air. Raising her head with a confused expression, she scrunches her nose. “It smells… Were you guys smoking?”

You and Navarro quickly glance at each other. She covers a laugh by coughing into her hand and you shake your head with an exaggerated frown. You look down at the half eaten square in your hands. “No, no of course not. That would be dangerous and irresponsible. Both of which, we are not.”

Narrowing her eyes at you, Kay teases. “Uh-huh. Look at me.”

You reluctantly lift your gaze to meet Kay's, trying your best to keep a straight face. But as soon as your red eyes lock with hers, you can't help but burst into laughter.

"Oh my god, you fucking were!" Kay exclaims, a mix of amusement and mock outrage in her voice. "I thought you were fixing the ship. Crying and upset. I wanted to be a good friend, you know, come cheer you up."

Navarro snorts, giving up the pretense. “In our defense, Bjorn gave us his stash as apology.”

Kay scoffs, rolling her eyes with a grin. “Right and I won a one-way ticket to Yvaga.” Kay shakes her head, but there's a hint of amusement in her eyes. "You two are impossible."

Navarro shrugs, taking another bite of chocolate. "Hey, can you blame us?"

You lean back against the wall, feeling more relaxed than you have in days.

As you all eat your respective treats, the conversation flows easily. Kay fills you in on the latest colony gossip, her animated storytelling bringing laughter to the stuffy room. You find yourself relaxing more with each passing minute. The tension from yesterday's argument with Bjorn feels distant.

Next Part

[tavolgisvist]

It was at Stoky Wood* (badge - black and yellow, with a picture of a Spitfire flying over the River Mersey) that Paul and I saw our first film. We were seated on long wooden benches watching Crime Buster Dick Barton**, a great radio hero of ours, when it became too much for Paul. In the flickering half light I watched with great amusement as Big Brother stumbled over me and his pals to exit screen left, scared out of his tiny mind. He wasn't scared when it came to smaller things such as bullies, however, and many's the time he came to my rescue in the school play yard. 'Big Brother have a use after all,' I thought.

*Stockton Wood Primary School, Speke, Liverpool **Dick Barton: Special Agent, was released in May 1948 Btw, Paul's 'I have another memory, of hiding from someone, then hitting them over the head with an iron bar' is the story about Stoky Wood too (Paul was at Stockton Wood Primary School from September 1947 until July 1951)

My memories of brother and I are of two independent little chaps, but Uncle and Auntie,s remembrances are of 'two right little swine', always up to mischief, or with their backs to the wall saying, 'We won't… WE WON'T!' I'm sure they're just a might confused. I do remember a few instances, however, which might give their memories some validity. Like the memory of Paul and me in 72 Western speeding up the growth of next door's apples by throwing stones at the apple tree, and then vigorously denying it. The stones on the other side let us down! Memories of being boss of my own gang in the later Stockton Wood years and charging against the 'enemy' across the school yard in full war cry (obviously why the headmistress Miss Margaret A. Thomas, who used to make the school toys herself, advised the world that one day I would be a 'Leader of men').*** And the came an older bully unto the yard who hit little girls and maketh them cry, and it behove me to teach unto him a lesson: Seeing that I was far too young and weedy to challenge him personally, I chose a friend to talk for me…(no, not Paul)…a housebrick! Being, as I've said, a holy lad it wasn't too difficult to levitate the brick up into the air…over the Bully's thick head…and cut (snip!) the invisible strings. After this bloody, awful incident, he didn't bully little girls, or anyone else for that matter, ever more.

(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI)

***'I remember the headmistress saying how good the two boys were with younger children,' says Jim, 'always sticking up for them. She said Michael was going to be a leader of men. I think this was because he was always arguing. Paul did things much quieter. He had much more nous. Mike stuck his neck out. Paul always avoided trouble.'

(The Beatles: The Authorised Biography by Hunter Davies, 2010, Updated Edition)

They were four tough kids from Liverpool who’d learned their craft playing in hotel-cum-brothels in Hamburg. I mean, they were tough. They grew up in Liverpool, which was a tough city. It’s like growing up in Detroit or somewhere. Somewhere, that toughness always comes out. <…> This just goes back to where they came from. Liverpool is a tough town. I wouldn't particularly want to run into Paul McCartney in a dark alley, if he didn't like me.

(Michael Lindsay-Hogg, May 2024, interview with Rob Sheffield for Rolling Stones)

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Remembrance Chronicles

Part 2: Until Then, Old Friend

*Thwack!*

*Shink!*

*Thud!*

Cassandra's arm was beginning to ache from her hours-long assault on the training dummy in front of her. She scowled deeper and pushed herself even harder for a moment before letting her sword fall to the ground next to her. She flopped heavily onto the wooden bench beside her in the training yard and put her head into her hands.

"DAMN IT!" She shouted suddenly into the deserted space, "DAMN IT ALL!"

The warrior had spent nearly every hour in the small training yard at her home since she had received the letter from Lace 3... no 4 days ago now. It was the only thing she could think to do. Cassandra just couldn't get herself to do anything but come out to the dummies and work herself to exhaustion since she found out... the news.

That day, she had wanted to storm Tevinter herself. She had nearly torn Leliana's office apart with all of her wild gesturing and pacing. Leliana, to her credit, had simply allowed her to rage until she had no choice but to rein her in. Apparently, there was a new apocalypse coming, and she was needed in the south. Cassandra wanted nothing more on that day than to stab Solas on sight and ask questions in the afterlife. How could he, someone Varric trusted, someone she trusted, betrayed them in such a horrible, twisted way. How could he continue on this path, knowing Varric's blood, now stained his hands.

And then, that fiery rage gave way to crushing grief.

"Maker, what is wrong with me." Cassandra spoke in a small voice that would've horrified her had anyone else been around to hear her. Though she ended up being horrified anyway when she felt a hot tear drip onto her hand. She gritted her teeth. This was not who she was. She had lost many comrades over the years, good men and women who gave their lives for noble causes, but for some reason, this time was different.

Taking a shuddering breath, Cassandra sat up and looked out across the yard. She could almost hear his voice in her head, taunting her.

"What are you doing out here again Seeker? I didn't think you were even capable of crying, let alone over little old me. Im touched, really."

The sound of his laughter seemed to bounce off the walls of her mind, filling her with nostalgia and then pain again.

It seemed impossible for that pain in her ass to be gone forever. She just couldn't fathom never arguing with him again, never fuming while he simply laughed at her. She had seen him only a year and a half before when he had met with her and the Inquisitor to give them the update on Solas. He had been so full of life (as well as irritating jokes and taunts) then, and now...

"He's gone." She spoke softly into the empty yard again. "Varric, you're really gone, aren't you?" Cassandra nearly choked on the final word as it squeezed out of her throat. Her heart ached horribly, as if something had it in a vice grip. Was this what it felt like... to lose a real friend? The realization hit her hard. She felt like she had taken a blow to her gut. She had never even recognized Varric's role in her life. He had really been her friend, and now he was just... gone.

Cassandra took a couple breaths then, trying to come to terms with her new reality. A world that she lived in, and Varric did not. She was, in some way, comforted by the fact that he was at least at peace now. Years, Varric had spent saving a city that refused to be saved. Then, a couple of years working to hold the world together as an amcient evil magister worked to tear it apart. Followed most recently, by years spent chasing the man who had lied to and betrayed them all to the ends of the earth. Varric had never gotten a break. He never got time to rest, and he never once complained. Now, she supposed he could at least rest. She hoped he got to see Hawke again.

Feeling some of the heaviness in her chest lift, Cassandra tipped her chin up to look into the blue sky. Reveling for a moment in the sun's warmth on her face, she swore she could hear him on the breeze.

"Don't waste your tears on me Seeker, one of these days, you can join Hawke and I for some Wicked Grace. I can finally show you what a REAL game between professionals looks like."

"Alright, Varric." Cassandra whispered with her eyes now closed and her face relaxed at last. "I suppose I'll see you then... old friend."

[cartoonjessie]

Double Dated - chapter 12, in which Maui and Moana finally clear the air about their past. Or start reading from chapter 1 here. (New chapters get posted daily)

As they were seated on a bench that overlooked the ocean, they were quiet for a while, allowing old memories to wash over them like the waves that crashed onto the beach. And while these memories were still accompanied by the perpetual anxiety they’d experienced on the island, there were also remembrances of something sweeter - affection, even love. It was impossible to say it had all been bad, because that would be a blatant lie. Eventually, Moana was the first to speak up. “Why did you ask us to meet up - especially since, and pardon me for saying this - you don’t seem particularly ready for facing me - or your own emotions?” He chuckled and raised his eyes to the sky as he let out a deep breath, unable to even disagree with her on that. “Something had to change,” he admitted, his voice a little rough. “I was miserable."

[Read more here on AO3]

[fred34543]

Poppies

Imagine a field of dead poppies, With a dead sun overhead, Imagine a field of dead poppies, Each petal freshly bled.

Imagine a field of dead poppies, And a bench sitting by the side, Sitting with a view of the poppies Whose memory never died

And in a few days' time, Nothing but bare barren earth, Lest we forget their death, Death for a new world’s rebirth,

Imagine a field of wild flowers, There where the poppies once fought, Imagine a field of wild flowers, Where poppies were once cut short.

I hope you enjoyed this late remembrance day poetry, and if you did be sure to like and check out my blog for more (Fred's Poetry Journal link here).

[alienara-simblr]

⛲ 30 Main Street : Crumplebottom Memorial Park 🚕

🌳 “This park is dedicated in loving remembrance of Robert Crumplebottom, one of SimNation’s most beloved puppeteers and philanthropists.” 🌲

🧺 You need a nice picnic set ? You can grab the IngeJones Picnic Bench by leefish.

🌭 You will need the Hot Dog stand by exnem

⚱️ I don't get why Robert Crumplebottom doesn't appear in the Goth family tree ?

💾 DOWNLOAD : SFS - Mediafire

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 19

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 5.4k Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence; vomiting; graphic descriptions of injury; some talk regarding funerary rites/burials; random info-dump on Seccaya lore cause I spent too long creating that place; has a fully functioning government and everything; a space battle that actually sounds pretty good?? quite pleased with myself for that one; yes I did name all the pilots after birds; they already had Hawk, might as well make it a theme; Lexie is not having a good day; Rex is not having a good day either; Fives is there for him in an instant tho

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Rex was walking next to Lexie through the woodlands, their pace steady as they followed a beaten down stone path. She was really quiet this morning for some reason. She had not said much when they met outside the palace earlier that morning, nor on their way there, as they rode on speederbikes through the still-empty streets of the city. The only thing she had said as they reached the edge of the forest was that they had a bit of a trek ahead of them.

It was unusual for Lexie to be this quiet, Rex knew her well by now and knew how she usually hated the silence, hated the thoughts swirling around her brain and preferred to distract herself from them through conversation. And yet, she seemed eerily calm this morning, a strange determination in her eyes as she led him though the forest, her focus on the destination ahead. After walking for about one hour they reached a tall, durasteel fence that was dividing the woods. The area it was encasing must be quite large, as the fence was extending for so long, Rex could not see any bend in either direction.

Lexie pushed the gate in front of them and it slowly swung open with a screech. She stepped through and waited for the Captain to follow her, before she closed it behind them. Rex looked around, trying to figure out what this place was. Secca trees were towering all around, some were old, with wide, hollowed-out trunks, and some young, with short, thin branches. There were a few stone benches along the paths and at the base of most trees Rex could see small, engraved stone plaques, however he could not read what they said, the writing was not Aurebesh. Other sentients were walking quietly on the paths, or were stood in front of the trees, but otherwise the place was silent, with the exception of the wind rustling through the red leaves and the trill of songbirds that could be heard all around.

“What is this place?”, Rex asked quietly, not wishing to disturb the serene atmosphere.

“The Forest of Remembrance”, Lexie whispered before she started walking along a diverging path.

Rex followed her, realisation finally hitting as to where they were. He quietly took note of the plaques they passed by, how some where faded and covered with moss, while others were brand new. He noted the mournful and melancholic looks on the other seccayans, and the way they lingered in front of certain trees, touching the trunks and bowing their heads. As they continued walking along the path, he even saw, a bit in the distance, two man digging at the base of one of the trees under the sorrowful eyes of a young woman dressed in black robes. By now Rex was correctly suspecting what this place truly was and where they were heading to.

The path they were on took them to an old, tall secca tree. The trunk was wide, and Rex reasonably assumed this tree must be at least a couple hundred years old. However, the biggest difference to the other trees around was that this particular one had two royal guards stood at attention in front of it. The man and the woman dressed in the black and burgundy uniforms he’d seen around the palace bowed their heads and brought their right fist to their hearts as Lexie passed them.

Rex watched as Lexie walked right up to the tree, put her hand on the moss covered trunk and bowed her head. He kept his distance for a few moments before he decided to walk closer to her, stopping by her side and taking her other hand in his. She immediately intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed gently, so grateful to have him there with her.

“There are five generations of queens buried under this tree”, Lexie said quietly, breaking the silence that had settled around them. “As well as their consorts and their other children”. She paused, took in a shaky breath and looked around. “All the trees here represent a family. When a man marries into a woman’s family, he is usually expected to be buried beneath her tree. And can you see how the younger trees surround the older ones, forming a sort of chronological spiral?”, she gestured around them.

“Yeah, I see it”, he nodded.

“Each tree can only hold so many generations. Eventually, new ones must be planted. Or sometimes, a couple knows they want a large family of their own, so they plant a tree near the others—thinking of themselves, their children, their grandchildren… maybe it sounds weird, but Seccaya is really rooted in its old traditions”.

“It doesn’t sound weird”, Rex replied. “I think it’s quite beautiful, having a place like this, where your whole family can rest and you can still visit them, still feel connected to them. I wish we clones had something like that too”, he said wistfully.

Lexie looked at him with apologetic eyes and squeezed his hand a little tighter, and Rex in return offered her a rueful smile.

“Thank you for coming here with me”, she whispered.

“Of course, cyare. I’m always here for you”, he reassured her.

“This, uhh… this is the closest I’ll ever get to introducing you to my parents”, she said with a chuckle.

Rex let out a small laugh and shook his head, taken aback a little by her joke. He was used to Lexie using humour to deflect when she was feeling uncomfortable, but he had to admit that that one took him by surprise.

“Sorry”, she said shrugging. “I just really wish they could’ve met you… I think you would’ve gotten along really well with my father. He was a captain too, have I ever mentioned that?”

“No, you haven’t”, he replied, giving her a curious look.

“Yeah, he was the captain of the royal guard... He was assigned to protect the crown princess, my mother, but they fell in love. They kept their relationship hidden for a while, but eventually had to come clean. However, he wasn’t from a ‘noble’ family, so they couldn’t just marry like they wanted to. My grandparents were completely against it too but my mom knew the legislation and she went in front of the Consuls and asked for a planet-wide referendum, because if the people agreed to have him as the next Consort, there couldn’t really be any objection from anyone else. It was quite the scandal really”, Lexie explained, before turning her head to look at Rex. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the amused expression she saw on his face. “What?”.

“Oh, nothing… just…”, he shook his head and chuckled, “like mother, like daughter I guess”.

Lexie’s eyes went wide. How have I not made that connection till now. She let out a genuine laugh, “I… I guess you’re right”.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments and Rex squeezed her hand a bit tighter. Lexie felt so safe when she was with him, and so content. He meant more to her than she knew how to put into words.

“We should probably head back to the city”, she said eventually. “The other will be wondering where we are”.

“Don’t remind me”, he scoffed.

“Did they say anything last night?”, she asked as they started walking back down the stone path.

“Just the usual teasing about how bad I have it for you”, Rex replied, giving her a smirk. “I almost agreed with them this time”. He felt pride fill his chest as he saw the tender look in Lexie’s eyes and heard her small laugh. It truly brought him so much happiness when he was making her happy.

Their moment of tranquillity could not last, unfortunately. Their comms rang almost simultaneously as they were still walking towards the speederbikes, with Anakin contacting Rex and Echo trying to reach Lexie in order to let them know that Separatists frigates have dropped out of hyperspace and were preparing an attack on the planet.

Lexie sensed how Rex’s demeanour changed as he immediately went into full captain-mode. They quickened the pace to get to the speeders then made their way through the busy streets of the capital and back to the palace, where the gunship was already waiting for them. Everyone was so tense and on high alert, they did not exchange a single glance between themselves as their general and captain jumped into the shuttle together.

“How bad?”, Lexie asked her fellow Jedi.

“Bad. Five battleships. We got Fireball and Gold Squadron already engaging with the vulture droids. Admiral Yularen has contacted the 104th, they should be en route by now”, Anakin gave her the rundown. “As soon as we get on-board, Snips”, he said turning to Ahsoka, “I want you leading Blue Squadron and protecting our flank”.

“Understood, Master”, the Padawan nodded.

“Are you good to fly with Indigo Squadron again?”, Anakin asked Lexie.

“Yeah, all good”, she confirmed.

She didn’t usually fly, but on the occasions she had to join a space battle, Lexie led Indigo Squadron. It had only happened three times, but she worked well with them and was feeling decently confident when leading. However, something felt off this time and she tried to shake the bad feeling at the back of her mind. She needed to focus.

There was no time to linger around once the shuttle landed in the hangar. The battle had already started and Lexie and Ahsoka had to join it, while Anakin and Rex headed to the bridge in order to oversee and coordinate their defences. All she and the Captain could do was offer curt nods to each other before running in different directions. They just had to hold the blockade until the 104th could arrive and reinforce them. They could do it, Lexie knew that, or she really hoped so anyway. A wave of nausea washed over her as she realised how high the stakes were. That was her planet they were protecting, her home, she could not allow it to fall into Separatist hands.

“See you out there, Master”, the young Togruta called before jogging to the other side of the hangar and getting in her Actis Interceptor.

Lexie jumped in the seat of her own starfighter and watched how Ahsoka and Blue Squadron took off to join the fight. Be safe, she sent a prayer to the Force.

“Ready R6?”, Lexie asked after the astromech was mounted onto her ship, receiving some upbeat beeps as a response. She flipped a few switches in the cabin and glanced over the diagnostics. The Interceptor came to life and she engaged the repulsorlift, making the ship hover in place. “Indigo One, checking in. How are we doing boys?”, she asked through the comms.

“Indigo Two, standing by. This is Hawk. Over”.

“Roller to Indigo Leader. Three is charged and ready for action. Over”.

“Ready on Four. Heron checking in. Over”.

“This is Indigo Five, Hornbill. Ready when you are, General. Over”.

“Ibis on Six. Group two is waiting for orders. Over”.

“Let’s go join the party”, she said after the check-in was completed.

Lexie hit the throttle and steered the ship out of the hangar, the V-19 Torrent Starfighters following after her. The scene that awaited her was completely chaotic. She could see Blue Squadron on her left, assembled in a defence formation and on her right she glimpsed some of the fighters from Shadow Squadron. All around, blue and red plasma bolts were flying haphazardly as both their side and the Separatists were trying to take down as many ships as possible and there were blasts coming directly from the frigates themselves as well.

“Gold Leader here. Requesting assistance. Over”, she heard in her comms.

Fireball’s squadron was engaged in battle ahead of them, closer to the frigates. Vulture droids were swirling in every direction and Lexie noted that his group had three ships less than it should. Debris from destroyed fighters was cluttered all around and her stomach turned as she saw the familiar white armour amongst it. She averted her eyes, moving her focus back on the fight closer to her.

“Attack formation”, she ordered through the comms. The fighters spread out around her, falling in position. “Group one, follow me. Ibis, you and your group watch our backs”.

“Understood, Sir”, the pilot responded before he and the rest in the second group broke from formation.

Lexie swerved though the floating debris, and avoided the shots fired her way. Cannons charged, she fired on the oncoming vulture droids, looking through the Force in order to skilfully hit her targets. Two vulture droids burst into a rapid flash of light.

“Indigo Three, watch your left”, she heard one of her men through the comm chatter.

“We got incoming”, a voice informed, maybe Hornbill’s? She couldn’t really be sure anymore.

“I’m on it”, someone answered the warning.

“Nice shot, Indigo Four”, another voice crackled though the static, as three more vulture droids were hit and exploded into pieces in front of them.

She pressed on, firing her cannons and avoiding the shots coming her way, her fighter swirling from side to side. They were getting closer to the frigates and droid defences were becoming thicker.

“Ibis, it’s time to make a run for the battleships”, she ordered through the comms.

“We’re right behind you, Indigo Leader”, Ibis acknowledged. “You heard her boys, give them hell!”, he riled up the rest of the men.

Lexie watched as their fighters passed above her, spreading around to intercept the oncoming enemy. She dove down abruptly to avoid a big chunk of a vulture then steered the ship towards one of the fighters from Gold Squadron who had two droids on its tail. She fired her laser canons and neutralised the threat before continuing towards the frigate.

“Thanks for the assist, Sir”, a voice came through the comms.

“Anytime”, she responded.

She did a quick fly by along the hull of the Separatist battleship, firing her ion cannons at it, before having to take evasive manoeuvres to shake the vultures that appeared on her own tail.

“I know, R6”, she responded to the anxious beeps of her astromech, as she swerved to her right then back to the left.

“I got you, Sir”, a voice reassured her. The droids following her were taken care of, bright flashes of light briefly illuminating the area around.

“Thank you, Hawk. Let’s dive by again, we need to take down the shields”, she ordered.

“Understood”.

They repeated the manoeuvre, hitting the hull in rapid successions.

“Got three on my tail, I can’t shake them”, an alarmed voice asked for help.

She looked to her left, finding the fighter that was in trouble. It was one of her men from the second group, Crake. She steered her Interceptor towards him but she could not reach the vultures in time and so she had to watch in horror as a ball of fire briefly engulfed the ship when the oxygen tank burst, before being extinguished by the vacuum of space.

“We’ve lost Indigo Eight”, one of the men announced.

“Kriff”, she swore under her breath when Indigo Ten and two more fighters from Gold Squadron were shot down. “When are we getting those reinforcements? We’re getting butchered up here”.

“They should arrive any moment now, Sir”, Rex informed her from the bridge of the Resolute.

Lexie took a deep breath, steering her fighter back towards the frigate and firing the ion cannons again. “Yes!”, she exclaimed as the sensors indicated that the ship’s shields were finally down. “Get clear, boys”, her instruction echoed through the comms.

She focused the cannon fire towards the main reactors of the Separatist frigate, giving it her all. A bright explosion erupted, followed by another one, and another one, and Lexie quickly steered her fighters away from the blasts. The shockwave briefly knocked her off-course, but she managed to rapidly regain control and readjust her trajectory, however an alarm started ringing in her cockpit as a large piece of debris clipped the side of her ship.

“Are we still good R6?”, she asked. The astromech beeped affirmatively and the alarm stopped. Let’s hope it stays that way.

“One down, four to go. Good work, Indigo Leader”, one of the men praised.

“Lexie, bring Indigo Squadron back on the defence. The Resolute is taking some pretty bad hits”, Anakin’s voice sounded in her comms.

Lexie turned her head towards the Star Destroyer, looking through the transparisteel. Dozens of vulture droids had broken through Ahsoka’s line of defence and were now ramming themselves into the Resolute. Panic engulfed her mind as she thought of Rex and she could feel her heartbeat getting faster.

“Pull back to the command ship!”, she ordered urgently through the comms.

She veered her ship back towards the Resolute, increasing the speed, her men close behind. Her anxiety momentarily shot up as she glanced at her console and saw the sensors indicating that multiple ships had come out of hyperspace.

“Wolfpack’s here”, she heard through the comm chatter.

 Thank the Force for that. She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that what was left of Gold Squadron had help in taking down the remaining Separatist ships. She could focus better now on the task at hand, and that task was taking care of the vultures threatening the Resolute. She and her squad reached the command ship and immediately started firing on the droids attacking it.

“Indigo Leader, you have three on your tail”, Heron warned her.

“I see them”, she acknowledged, trying to take evasive manoeuvres.

A strong feeling of dread flooded her senses. Something wasn’t right, her controls felt off. Something was going to happened. She swerved from side to side as much as she could when suddenly the fighter wobbled violently and alarms started ringing, their deafening high-pitch tone filling the cockpit.

“Kriff! I’m hit”, she shouted.

“I’m right behind you, General. Got your back”, Heron said, shooting at the vultures attacking her.

“The system is overloading. I’ve lost the repulsorlift projectors and auxiliary power”, she informed, hurriedly flipping some switches. “Indigo Leader to Bridge, I’m coming back to the hanger. Don’t think the landing will be pretty…”.

Lexie started coughing as smoke began filling the cockpit. This is really bad. She struggled to steer the ship down towards the hanger entrance, the controls feeling very stiff all of a sudden.

“Navigation’s fucked too”, she cursed, her eyes stinging and filling with tears from the smoke. “Requesting medics on standby”.

The alarms were continuously ringing and an explosion shook the fighter, causing it to start spinning rapidly. Her attempt at landing in the hangar was now an uncontrolled descent. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see out of the transparisteel, she couldn’t regain control of the ship. All she could do was close her eyes as she prepared for impact.

“I’m hit”, Lexie’s voice sounded amongst the comm chatter.

Rex’s blood ran cold and before he could stop himself, his feet carried him closer to the wide viewport of the deck. His eyes searched through the chaos of Torrent Starfighters and vulture droids, finally landing on her ship. Lexie’s Interceptor was badly damaged, two vulture droids still in pursuit. He watched as Heron took them out, but his anxiety didn’t dissipate. He didn’t believe that she was out of danger as it looked like she wasn’t in full control of her ship anymore. He was right, her systems were failing.

“Indigo Leader to Bridge, I’m coming back to the hanger”, her voice informed them. It sounded eerily calm for the situation she was in.

The Captain was frozen in place, eyes fixed on her fighter. “We need medics in the hangar!”, he heard an urgent voice sound through the ship’s intercom. He sharply inhaled when the left side of her ship exploded, causing it to begin spinning, a cloud of thick, black smoke trailing behind it as it fell towards the Star Destroyer. She was going to crash into the hangar, there was no way to prevent it.

Rex was still paralysed by fear, his eyes frozen to the smoke rising from the hangar. All he could think of was her. Could Lexie survive a crash like that? What would happen if she didn’t? He couldn’t lose her, he couldn’t bear that pain, how would he go on if she died? His breathing was becoming erratic and his fists was tightly clenched by his side.

“Captain”, General Skywalker’s voice finally reached him. Rex turned his head towards the Jedi but could not form any words in response. He was glad he was wearing his helmet, there was no way he could keep the panic from showing on his face. Not that it mattered much, Anakin could easily sense his distress. “Get down to the hangar and get me an update on Master Khalla’s condition”, he spoke loudly, in a commanding tone. “And, Rex, try to stay calm. She’ll be fine… she has to be”, he added lowering his voice, a hint of worry audible in it.

“Yes, Sir”, the Captain managed to say before he left the bridge.

As soon as the door slid closed behind him, Rex started running, his feet automatically taking every correct turn down the corridors. He felt sick to his stomach as he waited for the turbolift to get to the hangar level, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to ground himself. He darted through the door immediately once it opened, turning his head from side to side to locate the crash. It wasn’t hard to do as he heard the loud bang of an explosion and saw all the hangar crew frantically running around and trying to extinguish the inferno of flames. He approached the crash site, the sight in front of him making his stomach turn again. It was bad, really bad. The ship was a mangled mess of metal, barely resembling what it once was. The fire was raging as it tore through the fuel reserves, melting the fuselage with loud metallic groans echoing in the hangar. Rex felt like his knees might give at any moment.

“Did you get her out? Is she still alive?”, he yelled over the crackling noise of the fire.

“Yes, Sir”, one of the clones responded. “The General’s just been taken to the medbay”.

Rex turned back to the turbolifts, heading to the ship’s medbay. She’s still alive, she’s still alive, was repeating in his head like a mantra as he ran down the corridors. But he needed to see it for himself, needed to know she was alright. He needed to make sure that she would not leave him. Rex turned the corner towards the medbay and his eyes landed on the men lingering outside of it, in the hallway. Jesse and Hardcase were leaning against the wall facing the door and Fives and Echo were stood on one side of it. Fives stepped to intercept him the moment he saw him approach.

 “She’s in critical condition, the medics are working on her as we speak”, he informed the Captain.

“I need to see her”, Rex said decisively, trying to walk past the ARC trooper.

Fives took a step to the side, blocking his path. “You can’t vod, she’s in surgery”.

“Get out of my way, Fives”, Rex ordered. His breathing was rapid, coming loudly through the voice modulator of his helmet, and his fists were still tightly clenched at his side. He pushed past Fives, his shoulder hitting the ARC and making him stumble a few steps back. He tried to get to the door, but was met by Echo placing himself in front of it. Jesse also pushed off the wall and came to stand by his brother’s side.

“Move!”, Rex ordered.

“Vod, you need to take a brea-”, Echo tried to plead.

“You need to move before I make you move”, the Captain interrupted, his tone bitter.

“Rex, she is in surgery. Kix has her. What do you think you can even do right now, besides contaminate the sterile environment if you just barge in there?”, Fives asked, stepping back in front of the Captain and gesturing to the door. “Take a breath, calm down and wait”.

“She’ll be fine, vod. We just need to wait”, Jesse added, placing a hand on Rex’s shoulder.

The Captain clenched his fists even tighter by his side, feeling the fingernails under his gloves dig into his palms, before he relented. He hated to admit it but his brothers were right. There was nothing Rex could do for her right now and that made him feel incredibly useless. He leaned against the wall, taking his helmet off and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thud. He swiped a hand over his face and tried to focus on his breathing.

“Were either of you in the hangar?”, he asked after some forced deep breaths.

“Jesse and I were with Kix when he got the call, so we went with him to see if we could help. By the time we arrived, they had already pulled her from the wreck”, Hardcase answered.

“H-How… how bad was she?”, Rex struggled to get the question out.

There was a long pause as Hardcase and Jesse exchanged a look. “She’ll be fine, vod”, Jesse stated.

“That’s not what I asked”, Rex said through gritted teeth.

“She has third degree burns on the left side of her torso and on her left arm. Some broken bones and internal injuries too”, Echo informed him. “Kix said they need to clean the wounds first and then they’ll put her in a bacta tank”.

Anxiety and fear overtook all his senses and Rex felt a powerful wave of nausea washing over him. The images that popped up in his head were too much. He couldn’t stop it, he pictured how flames engulfed her body, how they burnt her flesh, the images of charred, blackened skin appearing in nauseating flashes in front of his eyes. He imagined the pain she must be in and swore he could almost hear her scream. He abruptly pushed off the wall and quickly walked in the direction of the closest fresher, making the men exchange worried glances between themselves.

“I got it”, Fives announced, raising a hand to signal to the others to stay where they were before following after him.

Rex entered the refresher and made a beeline to the nearest stall, kicking the door open with a violent movement and emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet, the bitter taste of bile filling his mouth. Once finished, he pushed himself back to his feet and walked out of the stall, his eyes briefly meeting Fives’ who was stood in the doorway, appraising him with a concerned look. He rinsed his mouth in the sink and splashed cold water on his face.

“She’ll be alright, vod”, Fives tried to reassure him.

“You don’t know that-”

“She will be, okay? She’s tough, she’ll pull through”, Fives interrupted, his tone decisive.

“I hate feeling this useless”, Rex admitted, his hands tightly gripping the edges of the sink.

“I know, vod”, Fives consoled, moving closer to his brother. “But you really need to pull yourself together-”

They were interrupted by the beeping sound coming from Rex’s vambrace, followed by Anakin’s voice. “Rex, come in. How is she?”.

Rex made no movement to answer. His hands were still gripping the sink and his gaze was fixed on the water pouring from the faucet. Fives waited a couple of seconds before he decided to reach for Rex’s arm, gently prying his fingers from their grip on the edge of the sink. Rex glanced at his brother and allowed the ARC to lift the vambrace closer to his mouth.

“She is in surgery. I’m waiting for an update on her condition before I return to the bridge”, Fives answered on Rex’s behalf.

“Alright Captain”, Anakin’s voice responded.

Rex closed his eyes and nodded his thanks to Fives as he let go of his arm. He then took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was drained of colour and there were dark circles under his eyes. Rex wasn’t entirely sure how to appear composed at the moment, his worry was written all over his face. He splashed more cold water over it, then walked past Fives and back towards the medbay, where he took his previous spot, leaning against the wall. Echo, Jesse and Hardcase exchanged a look, but decided not to say anything. Fives walked over to where Rex was stood and leaned on the wall next to his ori’vod. He knew there wasn’t anything else he or anyone else could do but just be there while they waited for Kix to bring them an update.

Rex wasn’t sure how long he had been standing in that hallway. He spent most of that time focusing on his breathing and trying to keep his fears from taking over his mind. The others weren’t particularly talkative either as they waited for an update on their friend’s condition. Safe to say the atmosphere around them was incredibly tense.

The door of the medbay suddenly opened with a small hiss and Rex immediately jumped from the wall. “How is she?”, he asked the medic before he could even step out into the hall.

Kix looked at the Captain with a concerned expression, taken aback by the desperation in his voice. “She will be fine. We’ve placed her in a bacta tank”, he replied calmly.

“Take me to see her”, Rex ordered.

“Vod, she’s unconscious in a bacta tank -”, the medic tried to protest.

“Kix”, the Captain cut him off, his voice determined but his eyes holding an unsaid pleading.

There was no arguing with Rex over this, Kix realised. He stepped back into the large medbay and led the Captain to the room where the bacta tanks were installed. For a second, Rex was worried that he would throw up again as his eyes landed on the one that Lexie was in.

It was not an easy sight to behold. Bright red burns were covering her left arm and shoulder, and were extending up towards her neck and chest. He couldn’t see how much of her torso they were covering as she was wearing a white sleeveless top, however, he could see that some burns were also present on her left thigh, although they did not look as serious as the ones on her arm. Her face was, once again, obscured by a breath mask, just like back at the beginning of the war when Rex would visit her while she was in the coma, but from what was visible, it looked like it was covered in bruises and cuts.

She seemed so fragile and vulnerable, yet her hair was floating in the bacta, creating a blue halo around her head and making it impossible for Rex to tear his eyes away.

“Give me the rundown”, Rex requested, his voice strained.

“Her injuries were severe but ultimately not life-threatening. We cleaned the burns and set the broken bones in her arm. She needs to stay in that tank for a full rotation, but she’ll pull through. We got her in there as fast as we could, scarring should be minimal, if any, by the time she comes out. She was lucky. The survival cell of the cockpit held well and the boys in the hangar managed to extract her from the wreck quickly”, the medic informed him, coming to stand by Rex’s side. He then placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke in a softer tone. “She’ll be alright, vod”.

Rex let out a long, relieved breath, the tightness in his chest and nausea in his stomach finally lessening. He thanked Kix, his voice only a whisper as he tried to regain control of himself. Rex took a few steps closer to the tank, reaching a hand and touching the cool transparisteel. She was alive and she was out of danger, that was all that mattered. He was not going to lose her. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and left the room. There was no use lingerie around a bacta tank while the battle was still raging on. Rex had a job to do, so he walked past his vode in the hallway and towards the bridge.