#fic coming tomorrow

[lauronk]

what better way to put off fucking with ao3 formatting than trying desperately to catch up on reading your friends' fics instead???

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride Masterlist

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: the angst, kidnapping and imprisonment, abuse of power, violence, sexual tension, misogyny, humiliation, panic attacks, smut & sex content, incest kink, subconscious parental issues ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7 – Part 8 – Part 9 – Part 10 – Part 11 – Part 12 – Part 13 – Part 14 – Part 15 – Part 16 – Part 17 – ?

Gyldayn's Chronicle (Childhood) Gyldayn's Chronicle Chapters 1-8 Screenshots Chapters 1-6 Targcest in The Price of Pride Floris & Aemond & Lady Royce Case Lady Royce character & inspiration Lady Royce Illustrations Lady Royce Wedding Gown

[irenespring]

Really I think nothing shouts "my first Presidential election as a politically active person was 2016" more than the fact that when I feel hope and excitement for the future (possible President Harris) for more than five minutes I immediately get a crushing, all-consuming anxiety of "feeling this positive emotion now is going to make it so much worse when the worst thing possible happens" to the extent that I'll probably need my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency anxiety medication.

[lovedrruunk]

WE ARE SO BACK!!!

Blushy Sloan :3

the day u guys get a finished drawing is the day i quit tumblr forever

I was actually so close to finishing this one I cleaned it up and everything but alas…

[hotshotsxyz]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

[varpusvaras]

Fox is being punished. 

That has to be it. He had been a bad Commander, a bad soldier, a bad brother. All he had ever done had been mistakes, one after the other, leading up to his miserable end. 

But even after that, even after his body had been broken, even after he had had to lay there, in pain and numb, slowly choking out because no matter how much he had wanted to, his lungs would not draw in another breath. The only mercy he had been granted there had been the fact that he had lost consciousness before the end had actually arrived, so he had not had to actually see it. 

Fox had known when the end had come, though. There had been a flash of something, a landscape of rivers and lights he had fallen through, all the way back towards the hard ground beneath him. 

Then, he had stood there, watching himself laying on that hard ground, unmoving and cold. 

Fox had watched as his men had gathered around him, how they tried to find a pulse, even though Fox himself could tell it had been too late just by looking at himself. He had looked like a doll that had been played too harshly with, and then left behind, once his owner had grown bored with him. 

Fox had watched as his men had gathered his body and covered it, despite the fact that he had still had his entire armor on. He had watched them carry it away. 

Fox had not followed them. 

He knows what happens to all the bodies already. 

He did…he did not want to see himself go through it. 

It is selfish of him, he knows. He should’ve followed them, should’ve watched himself burn, like all of his brothers before him, who had been fortunate enough to make it back. It shouldn’t have mattered. 

He is already dead, after all. 

Still, he had not followed them. Instead, he just continues to stand there, at the foot of the Temple, where he had taken his last breath. 

He had thought he would see his brothers again. 

He had thought that he would finally get to apologise to Thorn. He had thought that Thorn would throw his arm around his shoulders and call him stupid for thinking that he had something to apologise for. 

He had thought that he would get to run to Ponds’s arms again. He had thought he would get to be held, and his older brother, always forgiving, would tell him that he still loved him, no matter what. 

Fox stares at the ground, where his body had fallen. 

It seems that once again, he had thought he deserved more than he was ever meant to. 

— — — 

Fox is being punished. 

That has to be it. He is being punished for all his failures, by having him witness the same things happen over and over again, but this time, he is even more helpless than ever before. 

He watches as his brothers continue to die. He watches as bolts that he could’ve warned them about hit them over and over again, because his voice doesn’t carry anymore.

He watches as his brothers continue to lose themselves, pulling the triggers of their blasters over and over again, because his hands are as much nothing as the air around them is. 

He watches as the Galaxy continues to fall deeper and deeper into the darkness. 

He watches it all, and he knows it is his fault. 

— — — 

Fox thinks about visiting Alderaan, sometimes. 

He misses it. It’s weird. He misses a place that he has never been to. He misses a place that was never his home, and never would be. 

He misses- 

Fox pushes the thought away from his mind, frightened of the possibility of what will happen if he thinks about it, thinks about them too much. He is not tied to the laws of regular travelling of the Universe anymore, and he is afraid that if he thinks too much, the next thing he knows, he will be standing there, looking right at them. 

He can’t do that. 

— — — 

Fox watches Bly die. 

His screams don’t reach him before he is gone, and they don’t reach him after. 

— — — 

Fox watches Stone die. 

He screams, again, even though he knows it’s pointless. He screams at him, orders him to get up, orders him not to leave Thire alone to this place. 

Stone doesn’t hear him. He dies, bleeding out in front of Fox, his blood flowing through Fox’s hands, no matter how hard Fox tries to hold it all in. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

He still tries, for some reason. Tries to hold them, tries to keep them from falling apart, tries to tell them they aren’t alone as they fade. 

He tries, because he has to. Because he didn’t try hard enough when he still had the chance. 

— — — 

He thinks of Rex a lot, whenever he sits by one of his brothers during their last moments. 

He thinks of Rex and the ARC Trooper in Rex’s arms and with a hole in his chest, and he sees himself holding the weapon. 

Fox is being punished. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

He stays with them until the end. 

All of them leave Fox after. 

— — — 

Fox surrounds himself with his brothers. 

He sits there, among them, the living and the dead. He listens to their voices, he watches their faces, he searches their eyes for recognition as they look towards him. 

It never comes. They can only look towards Fox, but not at him. 

Fox doesn’t know if he even wants them to see him. 

He doesn’t want them to leave him. 

He closes his eyes and listens to his brothers’ voices.

— — — 

Fox watches Wolffe. 

He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and closes his eyes whenever he pulls the trigger. 

Fox watches Cody. 

He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and holds his hand whenever he pulls the trigger. 

Fox watches them destroy themselves, and all he can do is cry silent, invisible tears. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

As he sits there, in a pool of blood that cannot stain him any further, he knows that he is being punished. 

He can’t take it anymore. 

Fox is being punished, and there is no place left for him that won’t hurt him further. 

He still goes, wishing for the reprieve of a different kind of pain. 

— — — 

The sun is setting when Fox arrives to Alderaan. 

He stands there, at the gates to the Palace, and watches the sun disappear behind the mountains and paint the sky with the colors of the warmth he can not feel anymore. 

He only has enough courage to enter through the gates once the sky has begun to turn dark. 

He remembers the stories Bail and Breha had told him. He remembers the terraces Bail had told him about, the ones where he would sit with Breha whenever he was back home. He remembers the halls Bail had described to him, the ones where he and Breha would dance in when they had the time, when they had a moment just for themselves to enjoy. 

He remembers the corridors and hallways Breha had told him about, the ones she had grown up running through, her shoes forgotten in the haste of seeing the ships leave in the morning. 

With the stories playing in his mind, he wanders through the Palace, all the way to the living rooms of the Queen and her Consort. 

Fox can hear them, through the door. He recognises the low, gentle sway of Bail’s voice, and he knows the melody of Breha’s voice as she speaks. 

He stands there, outside their door, and listens to them speak words he cannot make out. 

Bail says something. Breha laughs. 

Fox smiles. His tears don’t burn his eyes anymore. 

He sits on the floor and leans against their door, and he listens. 

— — — 

When the morning comes, Fox hides. 

He’s not hiding because he fears they will see him. He knows painfully well by now that he is invisible to the Galaxy as it is now. 

No, he hides, so that he can’t see them. 

So it goes. Fox hides in the halls and rooms of the Palace, living as a shadow in the house that was never his home, and he listens to the voices of the people he had once hoped would be his home. 

He knows the sound of Bail’s footsteps already, and he quickly learns Breha’s as well. Sometimes, he catches a glimpse of them, and he averts his eyes, no matter how much he wants to do nothing else than just look at them. 

There’s pain waiting for him in their faces, and there is pain here, where he doesn’t see them. 

Fox is being punished, after all. 

When the night falls, he sits by their door and listens to them talk. 

Bail says something. Breha laughs. 

There is silence. 

Breha cries. 

It’s an awful sound. 

Fox thinks that it’s his fault.

— — — 

Breha is not back to the Palace yet. 

Fox still sits in front of their door, even though there is no conversation going on on the other side. 

It’s silent, for a long while, but then there is noise. 

Bail is crying. 

It’s an awful sound. 

Fox thinks it’s his fault, too. 

After all, had he not ruined everything that Bail had worked so long for?

— — — 

They have a child, now. 

It’s impossible for Fox to not know that. Everyone around him is talking about her. 

The little Princess of Alderaan. 

Fox knows that they always wanted children. They talked about it often. So often, that sometimes, when Fox had been foolish enough for a moment, he had imagined a little girl himself, a little girl with dark eyes and dark hair, with a toothy smile and bright laugh. 

A little girl, just for them. 

He’s happy for them. He really is. He knows how much they wanted to have a child. A little girl, just for them. 

Fox had always known that he had been nothing more than a pawn on the board of war. 

Somehow, there is still a new pain to be found, from the realisation that the Galaxy and the lives in it would continue to move forward even without him. 

They have a child, now. A little girl, just for them, like it had been before Fox, and how it is now without him. 

— — — 

The little Princess has not been sleeping properly, lately. 

Fox doesn’t know a lot about babies, but he has heard some say that it is quite normal for them to sometimes go through periods where they seem to be doing nothing more than cry, day and night. 

The little Princess has certainly been doing that for the past week. 

Her cries always start the same. First as a few hiccups, that will eventually grow to sobs, and then to loud, demanding and shrill screams, that will go and and on, before she grows tired, and her little voice becomes hoarse, until she has the energy to just whimper. 

Fox hates the sound. He hates every second of every part of it. 

There is a need inside of him. A need that tells him that he must stand up, that he must walk through the door, that he must take the child and soothe her until she stops crying, that he must do so until she is happy again. 

He wonders if this was what the Prime felt like when he had been given his son. 

The little Princess cries. Fox listens to it, his teeth drawing blood that will not flow from his lip as he bites down on it, in order to keep himself composed. Breha and Bail sound both exhausted, as far as Fox can hear through the door, but still, they carry on, trying their best to soothe their daughter, as she continues to cry. 

Eventually, a silence falls. 

It draws on, far longer than it has in many days. 

Fox listens to it for a while, until it becomes simply too much. For a week, he has been holding himself together, and now, during a moment of peace, he has run out of any patience he had still had left.

He stands, and moves into the rooms on the other side of the door. 

He moves slowly and quietly through the dark living room. It feels appropriate, still, even though he makes no sound anymore for anyone to hear. He glances at the marks of a long life together, a life that he was just a small, brief moment in, and makes his way to the bedroom. 

Fox does hesitate for a long moment before he actually steps in. It feels like he is intruding, no matter how many times there had been promises, promises of this place, promises for his place exactly here. After all, those promises had never been able to come through, all because of Fox himself. There is no place for him here, anymore. 

Bail and Breha are both asleep. Fox can see them lay on the bed, turned towards each other in their slumber. Breha is curled against Bail, and Bail is curled around her, his back to Fox, like he is protecting her. 

Fox finally looks at them properly, now that they have their eyes closed. 

He feels like a stranger, stumbling upon a picture of a perfect life. It has been a while since he has wished for anything else than the final mercy of true death be granted upon him, but now, there is a longing for a life inside of him, burning him cold. 

He stands there and he longs, longs for two things he cannot have at the same time. 

Fox is being punished. 

There is a small, dim light on at the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and next to it, is a small cot. 

Fox tiptoes around the bed, and he slowly, so slowly and carefully, makes his way to the cot and looks in. 

She is sleeping there, the little Princess of Alderaan. She has a round face and small body, and tiny arms and legs with even tinier hands and feet. 

There is a tuft of brown hair on top of her head. 

Fox has a feeling that if her eyes were open, he would see that they were also dark. 

A little girl, with dark eyes and brown hair. 

A little girl, just for them. 

There she is, just like Fox had imagined her. 

There she is, now that Fox is not. 

She makes little sounds when she sleeps. Tiny gasps and soft sniffles, and even tinier whines every now and then as she shifts around a bit, her eyelids fluttering for a second before she settles back down. 

Fox cannot look away. 

He stands there, looking at her, at her round cheeks and tiny nose, at the tiny shadows her little eyelashes are casting on her skin, at the way her hair is longer at her forehead and curls ever so slightly towards the left side of her head. 

She whines a little, then again, a little louder. Breha shifts a little on the bed behind Fox. 

She needs her rest. 

Fox knows it doesn’t matter, but he hums. 

There hadn’t been any songs for them when Fox had been little. No lullabies or nursery rhymes. The only songs that had been sung to them had been the endless melodies of the ocean and its waves, and the songs of war, of bravery and brotherhood. 

None of them are suitable to be sung to a little Princess in the dead of the night, to lull her back to sleep. 

It’s a good thing, then, that she cannot hear him. 

Still, despite all of this, Fox hums the song to her, the song of his brothers and their hearts. He hums the song over and over again, with his voice that cannot tire anymore, as it is as soundless as it was eternal. 

The whines stop. She squirms around a bit, before she settles again, and stays there for the rest of the night. 

Fox flees when the morning comes and he hears Bail awaken. 

— — — 

Now that Fox has given a part of himself, he cannot take it back anymore. 

He goes in the next night, stands there next to the cot and looks at the little Princess, and he hums the song for her. She sleeps through night after night. 

Fox knows he is only deluding himself in thinking he is actually helping in any way. 

He still leaves every morning. 

— — — 

Babies grow fast. 

Fox notices it all by himself without anyone having to tell him. She seems to get bigger after every week. 

Leia. The little Princess. A little girl, just for them. 

She is five months now, Fox had heard Breha mention it the day before. 

Fox realises that she must’ve been born right after the Rise of the Empire. 

It feels like it has been a lot longer than that. 

— — — 

Fox hums. Leia had fallen asleep an hour ago, so it was still early into the night. Bail and Breha were also in the bed already, trying to catch as much sleep as they could. 

Fox had really thought they were asleep. 

Until he hears a quiet, choked sob. 

Bail pushes himself up instantly at the sound. Even though Fox could disappear instantly from where he stood, his mind had stopped working for a moment right then, and it’s already too late when the thought to do so finally crosses him.

“Breha?” Bail murmurs. 

Breha doesn’t answer instantly. Fox hears her draw in a deep breath that comes out accompanied by another sob. 

“I-” She says, and tries to breathe in deep again, but her voice just wavers more when she speaks after it. “I miss him. I miss him so much. He was supposed to be here.”

“I know”, Bail says. “I know. I miss him too.” 

Breha buries her face into Bail’s chest and cries.

“He was supposed to be here”, she sobs, digging a hot, burning blade of pain deeper into Fox’s chest with every noise. “He was supposed to be here, with us.” 

It takes Fox a moment to realise that they are talking about him.

He looks Bail in the eyes properly for the first time since before his death. 

They are full of tears, already making their way down his face, steadily and quietly as he holds Breha through her cries, steadfast and strong as always. 

Fox remembers how much he loves them again. 

He wants so badly to reach for them in that moment, he wants so badly for them to see him, to hear him, like he is still there. 

But he is not there.

He continues humming, through his own, quiet and weightless tears, and Leia sleeps through the night. 

— — — 

Fox stays when the morning comes. 

He cannot look away from them anymore, either. So he watches as they dress themselves and then dress Leia, and he follows them when they walk out of the Palace and through the gardens, down the hill and to a smaller garden, away from the main one at the central courtyard. 

Fox didn’t remember either of them ever mentioning it to him. They had both talked so much about all the plants and flowers of the Palace in detail when Fox had asked, in wonder of having living things in such abundance all around, even indoors. 

The little garden looks new, as Fox takes a better look at it. The stones around the flowerbeds have no weather to them yet, and the ground on which the flowers themselves stand is dark and loose and looks like it has just been placed there. 

There are young trees at the center of the garden, their blooming branches arching over white stones in the middle. 

It takes a Fox a moment to realise that it’s a grave. 

There are some petals that have fallen on the stone in the middle. Bail sweeps them away, before resting his hand on top of the stone. 

“Good morning, our love”, he says, and with air that he doesn’t need to breathe stuck inside his throat, Fox reads the writing on the stone. 

Where he lives now is in our hearts

Eternal, everlasting

Like love

Fox Organa

Remembered and lived by his wife, husband and daughter

Oh. 

Fox had thought- he had thought- 

Breha takes Leia’s little hand to hers, and she presses both it and her own hand on top of the stone as well. 

“Good morning, love”, she says. “Say good morning, Buir.”

Leia is five months old. Fox knows that she is too young to know how to speak yet. 

Still, she babbles happily, her little fingers curling against the stone, and Fox-

Fox stands beside his own grave and cries. 

— — — 

He looks at Leia that night as she sleeps. He looks at her round cheeks and tiny nose, her dark hair and tiny hands and feet, the way her chin is shaped and the way her mouth curves. 

He looks at her, and hums a song for her, to their little Princess. To their little girl, a little girl who is just for them. 

Fox sits on the edge of the bed once Bail and Breha are both asleep, and he feels like he somehow belongs, even though he is not there. 

— — — 

Leia is six months old. 

She is still rather small, as far as Fox has understood, but Bail and Breha are not worried by that. Fox trusts that they have a good reason. 

He is sitting on his spot on the edge of the bed, humming the song, as Leia suddenly scrunches her face, looking very much like she is about to cry. 

Fox stands up in a hurry and leans over the cot. 

“Shhh”, he hushes. “Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” 

He only realises that he is trying for nothing, like all the times before, after he has already said the words. 

Indeed, Leia does open her eyes, her face still scrunched up and her mouth drawn tightly, and she blinks rapidly, and- 

She looks up, her dark eyes locking in on Fox’s. 

Fox freezes. 

No. No, she is not looking at him, he reminds himself. She cannot see him, since he is not actually there-

Leia’s face relaxes as she continues staring at him. Her mouth goes lax for a moment, and then it curls into a toothy smile, and she reaches her hands towards him. 

Fox cannot help it. Readying himself for inevitable disappointment, he reaches his hand into the cot. 

Leia’s hands reach for his. First they don’t seem to be able to grasp on anything, but then, all of a sudden, they curl around Fox’s thumb. It feels like there is static between them, as a layer on Fox’s skin, but he can still feel the pressure and a hint of warmth through it. 

Leia looks at him, and smiles. 

Fox smiles back, wavering and on the edge of tears yet again, but he smiles back at her. 

“That’s right”, he says. “It’s alright. Buir is here.” 

Leia falls back asleep that night holding onto Fox’s hand. 

— — — 

There are limits to what Fox can do. 

He cannot lift Leia up properly. He can put his hands under her and lift her maybe half an inch for a second or maybe two, at max. The static feeling is always there whenever she touches him, but Fox can let her hold onto him, and he can lightly brush her head to soothe her. Leia giggles every time Fox runs his finger down the bridge of her nose. 

Fox has no other option than to exist with the fact that there is one person in the whole Galaxy who can see him. 

He cannot touch her as much when she is being held by someone else. He cannot pry her away from Breha or Bail, not that Fox even wants to. 

Breha is holding her on her shoulder as she mixes her a bottle. Leia is a little fussy, hunger making her impatient. 

Fox calls to her, and when Leia looks up at him, he sticks his tongue out at her. 

The fussiness and the hunger are completely forgotten. Leia laughs and clumsily claps her hands together. She shrieks out a louder laugh as Fox does it again. 

Breha turns, and looks around the room. There is still a bang of loss in Fox’s chest as her eyes pass right by him. 

“Something caught your eye?” Breha asks. She is smiling as she looks at Leia, and Fox loves her immensely. 

— — —

Bail stands next to Fox at Leia’s cot. 

Fox had always leaned against him whenever they had stood this close to each other. It had been a habit, born from the fact that Fox had always run cold while Bail had always run warm. 

Fox misses that warmth. 

Bail looks at Leia, who stares right back at him. 

“The last time I checked”, Bail says slowly. “It was way past the bedtime for little Princesses.” 

Leia only grins at Bail, who looks extremely dejected. Fox cannot help but laugh a little. 

Leia’s eyes move to Fox, and she laughs back at him. 

Bail frowns, and turns to look. For a moment, it feels like he is looking straight at Fox, but his eyes never stop searching. 

Fox wants to just lean forward and fall against him. 

He stays put, until Bail’s eyes turn away. 

— — — 

Leia stands up against the couch. 

Carefully, she lets go of it. She looks at Breha, who is sitting just a few meters away from them, and then she looks at Fox, who is sitting on the couch. 

Fox smiles at her. 

“Go on”, he says. “Go on, Leili’ika, you can do it.” 

“Come on”, Breha says, extending her arms towards Leia. “Come on, you can do it!” 

Leia takes one, hesitant step away from the couch. Then another, and another, until she has made it to Breha, who catches her in a hug. 

“There you go!” Breha laughs, and kisses Leia’s cheeks. “There you go, I knew you could do it!” 

Leia giggles, and then looks over at Fox. 

Fox claps his hands. 

“Good job!” He says. Breha puts Leia back down, and Leia turns around, and makes her way towards him with small, wavering steps. She grabs at the couch right in front of Fox, and looks up at him, with a wide, toothy smile. 

Fox glances at Breha.

Breha is looking at Leia, but slowly, her eyes move up, following Leia’s gaze. 

She doesn’t see him, but she keeps looking, almost like she is expecting to see something there. 

She is not smiling anymore. Fox swallows, and turns to look back at Leia. 

Leia is still smiling, and Fox quickly smiles back at her. 

“Good job”, he says again, and runs his thumb over her cheek. “Good job, Leia.” 

Leia giggles again. Breha is still looking when Fox looks back at her. 

— — — 

“Sometimes, it just…” Breha trails off. “....it just seems like she’s really seeing something we’re not.” 

“I know”, Bail says. “But…she always looks happy, correct?” 

Breha nods. 

“Yes”, she answers, and then pauses. “...do you think it’s because of…” 

Bail takes her hand into his. 

“Maybe”, he says, almost whispering. “Maybe. Though I…I cannot imagine what she is seeing. I’ve never heard of anything like this. Obi-Wan or Master Yoda could know, perhaps, but…” 

He cuts himself off, and shakes his head. 

“It’s too dangerous”, he says. 

Fox stares at his hands as he listens to them speak, his mind trying to catch up with what had just been said. 

They aren't all gone. The Jedi are not all gone. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive.

— — — 

Fox goes to see Kenobi that night, after Leia has fallen asleep. 

It’s the middle of the day there, with two suns blaring down on the desert. Fox finds Kenobi easily enough. 

He looks like he has aged several years in just a span of one.

Fox cannot blame him. 

He watches Kenobi for a while, looking for any sign that he can see Fox. 

When none come, Fox steps closer. 

“General?” He calls. “General Kenobi?” 

Nothing. 

Fox tries not to feel disappointed. 

There’s a strange feeling then, like he is being watched. Fox turns around. 

No one around him is looking at him. 

— — — 

Fox goes to visit Cody after. 

He watches as Cody cleans his blaster, just like he always does. He looks like he usually does as well, with his helmet off, and his brows creased in a gentle, concentrated frown. 

Fox wonders what Cody would do, if Fox could tell him that Kenobi is alive. 

Perhaps it’s for the best that he can’t.

Fox returns to Alderaan, and sits on the edge of the bed. Leia makes a sound, and he hums her song to her to settle her back to sleep.

— — — 

Kids are fast. 

Much faster than they have any right to be. Leia especially, because she is still tiny.

“Leia!” Bail calls after her, as she speeds off. “Leia, slow down!” 

Fox can move a lot faster than anyone else. In less than a blink of an eye, he is in front of her, and she hastily slows herself down to a stop. 

“You heard your papa”, Fox says. “Slow down.” 

Leia has the gall to pout at him. 

Bail has now caught up to her as well, and he scoops her up. 

“What are you pouting at?” He asks her, tickling her stomach lightly. 

Leia laughs.

“Buir!” She giggles, which makes Bail stop immediately. 

He looks at Leia, looking a bit confused for a moment, and then glances towards the small garden. 

“Do you want to go see Buir?” He asks her. 

Leia turns to look back at Fox. 

“Buir”, she says. 

Bail doesn’t notice her looking, because he just nods, and starts to make his way towards the garden. Fox decides it’s for the best if he follows them. 

Bail puts her back down on the ground in front of the grave. 

“There we go”, he murmurs. “Say hello to Buir.” 

Leia frowns at the stone, and then looks at Fox. 

“Buir”, she says. She sounds rather confused now. 

Bail looks at her, and then up, straight at Fox but straight past him.

Fox makes himself smile at Leia. 

“It’s okay”, he says. He brushes his hand across the top of her head. “It’s okay, Leili’ika. Buir is right here.” 

Leia looks at him, and then reaches her hand.

“Buir”, she says. 

Fox lets her grab onto his hand. He watches as Bail looks at him, still straight past him, with a lost look full of grief in his eyes. 

Once again, Fox wishes nothing more than to be able to speak to him, make him see, make him hear him, so Fox could tell him that he is right there. 

But he cannot. 

Because even when Fox has found his place, even when Fox has found happiness, even when Fox has found a home, even when he has been granted a reason to be here. 

Even then, Fox is being punished.

[anna-scribbles]

thirteen update ☀️🥀🪰🏚️

chapter 6: march

summary:

(“Be here. For Adrien.”  “Emilie, I can’t…” “For me, then. Love him for my sake.”)  A sob cracked open Adrien’s chest. He ripped away from the wall, clapping a hand over his mouth to try and stifle himself. His lungs wheezed, a crumpled can, and the world slipped off its axis. She was dying. She was dying. She was dying, for real, and soon, and this was what they hadn’t wanted to tell him. 

excerpt:

Time barrelled on after that, like a ground speeding toward him in freefall. 

Lessons slipped through his head and smiles stretched over his mouth and Adrien’s life became, more than ever before, defined by the moment he would next see Maman. It was like his brain couldn’t catch hold of anything else, couldn’t grasp it. Even when he was out doing other things, in other places, he wasn’t really. He was always back with her.  

The shift happened sometime in the beginning of March.

A change in the air, the bones. The house held its breath. Walls stood cleaner and quieter and bigger than before. Or maybe Adrien just got smaller. Maybe it was like a vacuum, like he’d learned about in physics. All the air sucked out of his lungs, crumpled up like a can. 

The silence was the worst. When Adrien was gone, he could lose himself a little. Turn his brain off at photoshoots and fall into the monotony of fabric on his body, skin on his face, hands all over, fixing him and fixing him and fixing him. Dissolve into the rhythm of fencing, blocking and thrusting and parrying and sweating and not thinking not thinking not thinking. But being inside the house was different. He couldn’t do anything but think, couldn’t be anyone but himself. Even his shows started to fall flat; Adrien found himself restarting the same Ouran episode ten times because he hadn’t absorbed a thing. The house was so quiet, his brain so loud. The world was transparent and he wasn’t quite sure he was real. 

And then he would see Maman. 

read on ao3

[benevolenterrancy]

@hereticcryptid I appear to be slowly but surely developing an entire series about how Hensheng and Baxia apparently get fed up with their owners' inability to express their feelings and take matters into their own hands...

[jq37]

I've largely been thrilled with the amount of sister content for Adaine and Aelwyn in Junior Year considering that Aelwyn's main arc was more or less completed last season and she could have easily been benched like so many other NPCs were this season. The only thing I was hoping would come into play but didn't was the Nemesis Ward. Even if it never comes up though, I still love it so much as a point of characterization for her. That action says so much about who she is as a person. That she would take a piece of magic specifically intended for evil and make it good in the same way that her protective magic which should have been good was twisted to be used for evil the first 18 years of her life? Mwah. Chef's kiss.

[firbolgfriend]

Im just yapping but there is this fic on fimficton called Discord of Tomorrow that’s about s2 evil discord traveling forward in time right before he can be turned to stone to switch places with the version of himself (reformed discord) that exists when the elements of harmony are gone, so reformed discord gets stuck in the past and has had to snap away and hide the elements of harmony from the mane 6 so he can focus on trying to get back to the future without getting turned to stone, all while dealing with the moral dilemma of him realizing how easy it was to take the elements and how easy it would be to seriously just take Equestria over again vs being worried about what evil discord is currently doing to his friends in present time. It’s only like three chapters but I think the plot is so funny and the author didn’t even get to the part where evil discord is in the future and the mane 6 is trying to figure out wtf his problem is, thinking he has amnesia or something. I want to make a comic expanding on it so bad I’m like seriously obsessed with it I can’t stop thinking about it

[i-am-a-fan]

Did I make a cover for my own fic? apparently so.

[fangswbenefits]

I think I need a break from smut for a few days (and from fucking community labels), so I was thinking of writing a short chapter for Frustration (not counting as Part 4, but as a side chapter) exploring how Miguel first met sweet girl and how and why he got so obsessed with her.

Would anyone be interested in reading it?

[amugoffandoms]

"Just me alone, the warmth starts fading away."

(happy birthday, yuno.)

[serve-cunt]

special topics in calamity physics

by serve_cunt Marc Marquez/Valentino Rossi, 8k, rated explicit! Academia!AU

"You are too busy to find somebody to fuck?" Vale asks, with a smirk. "I don't remember that being a problem when I was in grad school." "That was a long time ago," Marc shoots back, and Vale laughs off the sting. "True," he says. "Times are different. Now, for example, it seems that graduate students only have time to fuck their professors."

lost my ever loving mind and wrote myself a little angsty academia age-gap romance ... as a treat

read it here on ao3!

[internetaddict104]

Tbh this was the only thing I could think of when 15 and Rogue first met

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 115

Part 1 Part 114

Will could tell they were coming well before his bedroom door opened, both their presences shining like a beacon, brighter and brighter the closer they came.

It’s still a surprise to see their faces. Eddie looks excited enough to be verging on manic, the same way he does when there’s a particularly juicy twist in a campaign he’s been planning out. In contrast, Steve looks almost grave. Not worried, but something serious in the slant of his mouth as Eddie tugs him inside and shuts the door.

“What’s going on?” Will asks, looking between the pair for clues, and finding none.

“Nothing serious,” Steve replies. He commandeers Will’s desk chair while Eddie flops into the bed beside Will, wriggling around until he’s stollen all the covers and wrapped them around himself like a human burrito.

“We’ve just got something to tell ya,” Eddie continues, beaming up at Will.

Neither of them continues, so Will looks back and forth between them. Eddie’s eyes are downright twinkling, while Steve stares at the side of Eddie’s head, glaring.

“Fine,” Steve grumbles, finally turning to meet Will’s eyes. “Eddie and I are dating.”

Will nods, maintaining eye contact as he waits for Steve to keep talking. He doesn’t. “That’s it?”

Eddie squawks,  slithering up in bed, still so swaddled in blankets that he looks formless. “What do you mean, that’s it?” he demands, elbowing Will in the ribs, but it’s through all the blankets so Will barely feels it.

“Weren’t you guys already dating?”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open, formless consonants leaking out of him. Steve steeples his fingers and leans forward, elbows on knees.

“It’s just, Eddie said—”

Eddie wriggles his arm free just in time to slap it over Will’s mouth with an awkward laugh. “Shut, up, Baby Byers,” he hisses, a faux smile on his face.

Steve leans back in the chair, lets his hands land loosely on the armrests. He’s smirking like there’s a canary in his mouth, and for the first time, Will can almost see the cool guy everyone acts like Steve is.

Not the real kind of cool that Steve actually is, but the kind who’d throw parties, and sit on a high school throne he hadn’t even built himself.

“What did you say, Eddie?” he asks, still smirking, and oh, is this flirting?

Will contorts his body until he’s free of Eddie’s silencing hand. “He said he was in love with you,” Will says.

Eddie sags into himself with a groan, burying his face into the blanket he’s still wrapped in. He looks like a pill bug, the only flesh visible a little bit of one of his ankles. Will pokes it and Eddie jerks, raising his head just enough to pout at Will.

“Is that so,” Steve says, but it’s not phrased like a question. Will answers it anyway.

“He said you looked like an angel in the Upside-Down, when we saw all those lights at my house for the first time?” Will feels his own face blushing as he remembers the way the lights had shone down on Steve, painted him in gold like it was his birthright.

Steve’s not smirking anymore, he’s gone all weird and gooey in the face. It only gets worse when Eddie makes a whining noise.

“Is that where the nickname came from?” he mutters quietly enough that it barely carries to Will’s ears. When Steve starts speaking again, it’s at his normal volume. “Wait, where was I for this?”

Eddie sits up at that, uncocooning himself enough to free his arms but keeping it over his head like an extremely unfashionable cloak.

“Uh…” he starts, shifting forward to stare into Steve’s eyes. “You were possessed?”

Steve grimaces, and all Kingly posturing falls away as he slumps back into the chair, crossing his arms in a way that looks more like a hug. Eddie must think so, too, because he latches onto Steve’s pantleg with grabby fingers and pulls until Steve settles onto Will’s bed with them.

“Were there any witnesses to this little declaration?” Steve asks, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Just Mom and Uncle Wayne,” Will replies.

Steve nods, slow as he meets Will’s gaze. “…and your Mom was.”

“She doesn’t care,” Will cuts in. Steve lets out a relieved breath that Will feels in his bones. He’d felt that worry when she’d let out a shocked gasp at Eddie’s declaration, had felt it wither away when he’d seen her hopeful face. “She just wanted you back.”

“We all did,” Eddie cuts in, throwing his stolen blanket over Steve’s shoulders, Will nestled between them both. “And we thought maybe trying to reach you in there would work?”

Steve laughs, but it’s all wet and choked up in itself. “And you said you were in love with me?” Steve asks. He reaches around Will to smooth down Eddie’s mussed bangs, the one cheek Will can see from his angle turning a light pink. “That’s so embarrassing for you.”

Eddie grumbles but leans into Steve’s touch all the time. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he asks. “We could feel you in there. You must’ve heard us.”

Will cranes himself away to look at Steve’s face, compromising the integrity of their ramshackle blanket fort enough that he tears it off Eddie and Steve entirely.

Steve doesn’t seem to have even noticed. His eyes are distant, glazed over like he’s looking at something else entirely.

Will never wants to see that distance on Steve Harrington’s face ever again, not after black smoke and a Steve that isn’t, so he tugs on their connection, and he comes back alive.

“I think I heard some of it?” he says, holding the palm of his hand to his ear like he’s listening to the ocean. He goes distant again, but Will’s pretty sure he’s just trying to remember, so he resists the temptation to pull him free. “What did everyone else say?”

Eddie reaches out and links his pinkie with Steve’s. “Oh, the same sappy shit we’ve all said to your face,” Eddie replies, but he’s smiling. “Baby Byers acted like it was his job to save you, and fawned over you like you’re some goddamn action hero.”

“Hey!” Will cries, but Steve’s laughing, so he doesn’t mind, especially not when Steve tugs on him this time, beaming at him like he’s a revelation.

“Uncle Wayne, the cantankerous old man that he is, said you were like a son to him.”

“Mom just asked you to come home,” Will cuts in. Steve’s eyes are shining.

“And I declared my undying love to you in front of all and sundry,” Eddie finishes, rearranging their linked pinkies so he can tangle the rest of their fingers together as well.

“You’re all so embarrassing,” Steve says, but he reaches out and bully’s Will into his arms. Eddie, never one to turn down a hug, worms his way into the situation immediately and applies enough pressure to make both their ribs creak.

They stay like that for a long time, until Mom calls, “boys, breakfast!” from somewhere in the house.

Eddie’s the first to let go with a contented sigh, scrabbling up off Will’s. He’s skipped halfway out the door before either of them has even stood up.  

“Has Mama Byers learned to cook since the last time we were here?” Eddie asks, leaning back in to grin cheekily at Will. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for eggs that are somehow rubbery and watery at the same time.”

Part 116