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#kem fic
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Where Angels Fear To Tread
Rating: T Characters: Plo Koon, Commander Wolffe, the Jedi Council, assorted Jedi & Clone side characters, a whole bunch of OCs Chapters: 9/? Fic Contains – star warstrek crossover, a whole lotta culture clash, discussion of genocide and war and other Clone Wars-typical topics, Jedi culture/worldbuilding, and the authors playing fast and loose with both canons.
THEN: In the midst of the Clone Wars, a newly-minted Jedi Knight vanishes, suspected of defecting. But the woman brought back to face the Council is not Knight Tulin, but an officer of an extragalactic organization that calls itself ‘Starfleet’. Curiosity, and a determination to rectify the mistake, drive Plo Koon to take the lost Commander Chester under his wing. But between Republic Intelligence’s sinister interest in their extra-galactic visitor, the growing Separatist determination to capture her for themselves, and the good Commander’s own determined escape attempts, keeping Chester alive is hard enough–let alone getting her home. NOW: In the horrific wake of Order 66, a badly injured Plo Koon stakes his survival on one last desperate hyperspace jump, to a mysterious anomaly that might offer hope for him–and for what little remains of the Jedi Order. For Captain Diane Chester, Plo’s arrival is confirmation of all her fears. Now, she’s got to keep the Empire’s grubby hands off the Alpha Quadrant with only one ship, one Jedi, and that greatest Starfleet tradition–a hell of a lot of showmanship.
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sooooo a few months ago @severeannoyance and myself were yelling excitedly at each other about, respectively, star trek and star wars, and somehow this turned into inflicting our assorted blorbos on each other. Then @squireofgeekdom joined the crew, and suddenly we had approximately 150k words of narrative collision.
I have been meaning to post this link for like six weeks and I kept forgetting skjhgjdhf
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kemendin · 1 month
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How We See In The Dark
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“What good is a drow who can’t see through the dark? Who cringes from the shadows instead of becoming them?” Unsettled by the atmosphere of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, Dhamari tentatively accepts Gale's invitation to spend the night in the comfort of the wizard’s tent. But the drow feels uncertain, wary of the affections growing within him, and Gale is weighed down with darkness of his own. Seeking solace in each other's company is all well and good, but Dhamari is about to discover that becoming truly close with someone is an even more convoluted experience than he has imagined.
Gale x Ace!Tav Words: 13,700 A/N: Hurt/comfort with both angst and fluff. Spoilers through Act II. Content warnings for canon-typical violence, discussions of death, suicidal imagery, and implied abuse. I promise there's also lots of cuddling and hand holding to balance it out.
Read on AO3 (excerpt below cut)
Lost in trying to make sense of the indistinct shapes formed by the shroud of gloom overhead, Dhamari’s normally keen senses fail him. His ears give a belated twitch at the pad of nearby footsteps. He rolls quickly to one side, and sees a pair of elegantly embroidered slippers shuffling past. A curious contrast with such bleak and broken surroundings, but then, their wearer has never been one to stint on the comforts of home, even out here in the wilderness.
Gale pauses in his path, his attention caught by Dhamari’s movement. He turns, glancing down, and offers a small, tired smile to the drow - an expression that only accentuates the lines wrought on his face.
“I see I’m not the only one finding it difficult to sleep.” His voice is low, and sounds faintly distorted, as though the very air refuses to let his words pass easily through its thickened veil. “I thought I might wear myself out with a walk around camp, but instead my nerves feel more tightly wound than ever.”
Looking up at him, Dhamari experiences a quick flurry somewhere inside that has nothing to do with his readiness to jump at shadows. It’s hardly hidden anymore, how he feels about Gale - and certainly Gale has made no secret of his own attraction to the drow - but a kind of awkwardness still lingers between them, keeping them at arm’s length from each other. An uncertainty of when, and how, and what does this even mean, when they are both, in a very real sense, dead men walking; because if the parasites curled inside their heads don’t take them, then the black magic lodged within Gale’s chest surely will.
“There’s an almost tangible discomfort in the air, isn’t there?” Gale goes on. “A weight.” He glances towards the glow of the campfire, then out past the shrivelled trees, where shadows and spectres reign. “It makes you wonder if, when you close your eyes, you’ll ever manage to open them again.”
Dhamari slowly pushes himself into a sitting position. “They might as well stay closed, for all the help they’ve been,” he replies. The sullen tone of his words is mirrored on his angular face - a shallow scrunch of his aquiline nose and a slight baring of sharp teeth. “What good is a drow who can’t see through the dark? Who cringes from the shadows instead of becoming them?” 
He gives a rough shake of his head, his long ears lowering moodily. He feels uneasy here, out of place - floundering where he should be formidable. Even years spent on the surface hadn’t eradicated his instincts for navigating the Underdark, instincts that had proved vital during the party’s recent venture below-ground. But here, those same instincts feel weak, nearly ineffectual. And he does not care for it.
“Ah, but what you’re used to is the absence of light,” says Gale. He lifts a finger and then leans forward slightly, in the way he often does when he’s explaining something. “What surrounds us now is an actual presence of darkness - and a magical presence, at that. Not an obvious distinction, in many cases, but when one considers the curse that plagues this land, the difference becomes quite blatant.”
Dhamari casts a look out at the nigh-impenetrable fog, and his lips thin. “I’m not sure that makes me feel any better,” he mutters.
“Perhaps not.” Gale tilts his head as he considers the drow for another moment, then straightens up. “But as they say - and I can attest to this, emphatically - knowledge is power. Even simply knowing what it is that’s causing you such disquiet can give your mind the chance to lessen its hold, if you’ll let it.”
Dhamari pushes a sceptical tch out between his teeth, a sound remarkably reminiscent of Lae’zel. “Knowing what the problem is doesn’t make it magically disappear, Gale.”
“Alas, no,” Gale concedes, with a wry huff. “At least, not entirely.” Perhaps sensing the drow’s still-simmering discontent, he spreads a placating hand and adds, “I merely offer what wisdom I’ve gleaned from enduring many a sleepless night of my own.”
But this wisdom feels like only the feeblest of lights when compared to the shadows around them, and Dhamari does not reply. He hunches forward, tugging the single roughspun blanket higher upon his legs as another shiver passes through him. He can feel Gale’s eyes upon him still, and somehow that makes it worse - that the focus of his unversed affections should be standing there, watching him come unravelled in the darkness.
An awkward silence descends between them, thick as clinging cobwebs, until at last Gale clears his throat and speaks again.
“Of course… it can also help to have someone with you,” he ventures. “Someone to tug your mind away from your troubles.” 
He hesitates, then proceeds more carefully:
“Perhaps you and I would both find ourselves resting easier… in company?”
At this, Dhamari goes quite still. His suddenly quickened heartbeat sounds very loud to him, drowning out the eerie echoes that are filtering through the campsite. And louder still, a memory of Gale’s voice from only a day or two ago, pushing to the forefront of his mind:
“But standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair… it only makes me want you more.”
Another flurry of emotion twists through the drow; but this time, the affection that wells within him is sullied by something distinctly nervous.
He wets his lips. “In… company?” he repeats, questioning, maybe even stalling, and feeling more than ever that he is stumbling blindly through the dark. He considers his simple, narrow bedroll, then flicks a dubious look up at Gale. “You mean - here? With me?”
“That is… certainly an option,” Gale replies, with a thoughtful back-and-forth wobble of his head. But he seems to share something of the other’s doubt, because he is quick to add, “Or, if you so desire - you may also consider this an informal invitation to stroll across our camp and join me for the night. No slight intended, but I daresay that what I laughingly call my living space these days is still a tad more comfortable than a skin spread out across a rock.” His lips quirk with a rueful little smile. 
Dhamari dips his head in acknowledgement of this, even as he swallows against the mass of growing confusion that’s taking hold inside him. He and Gale have hardly shared more than fond words, bright yet bashful looks, the occasional deliberate squeeze of a hand. Once, admittedly, a bone-crushing hug on Dhamari’s part, when he’d welcomed Gale back from the dead following a disastrous encounter with an Underdark bulette, and several heartstopping minutes spent scrambling to revive the wizard in the aftermath. The ferocity of the drow’s sudden embrace had taken both of them by surprise; Dhamari can still recall Gale’s eyes going wide with startled gratitude, and then warming with a flicker of something more, as the still-cold breath of his thanks brushed past his saviour’s cheek. But Dhamari - still unsteady in his own heart, and deeply flustered - had quickly disengaged, and before he could think again Gale had drawn back, turned away, and the moment had passed.
And now - quite suddenly, it seems to Dhamari - Gale is offering the drow a place in his bed.
Dhamari’s twilight fingers grip at his blanket in trepidation. He wants to be closer to Gale - very much, in fact. So much that he’s caught himself physically drifting nearer the man as they traverse these desolate roads, until he feels the finely woven fabric of the wizard’s robes brushing against his shoulder. 
The issue is - he is not at all convinced that his definition of ‘closer’ aligns with Gale’s own. 
But when he looks up again, it is to find Gale’s hand extended out towards him, and a more earnest smile - oh, that smile - broadening the other man’s bearded lips.
“Come on,” Gale invites him, and then, softer: “Please.”
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yansurnummu · 28 days
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9 and 27 for an oc of your choice?
I'll pick Drals for this one!
Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?
I think it depends on the person and situation! He'd definitely like to think that he's one for giving tough love, but a lot of the time it really comes across as more like... awkward love. He struggles with being earnest and sincere, and his prickly exterior is a bit of a defence mechanism. He can be kind of rude and mean at times and push people away without meaning to. He's very self-sabotaging but he's working on it! He will get better :)
As for receiving, I would say it's sort of the same deal. He prefers tough love most of the time, and will respect someone who can call him out on his bullshit, and doesn't trust it at first when he's shown a more sympathetic approach.
What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?
Throwing Kem under the bus once more: the one and only time the two of them celebrated New Life a few years back (Kem's idea, Drals thought it was a waste of time) Kem gifted Drals a box with a pair of dirty, inky socks.
"Mortals like socks! Besides, yours have holes in them," Kem had said.
"This is disgusting. Did you find them on a body? What is WRONG with you?" Drals replied.
(He did wash them and use them, of course.)
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jacksothereye · 2 months
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Six Sentence Sunday
The game where you say you're only gonna preview six sentences from a fic and then totally completely sneak in more than that!
I got tagged by @kemendin but was outta town at the time. So a whole-ass week later I'm doing the thing!
“Aw, don't worry about the eye thing," said Karlach as she plopped down beside the gnome. "You're almost like Wyll now! Except, you know, shorter. Grubbier. Hairier. Meaner.” Mudgamble didn't look at her, instead choosing to stare out at the river while he sulked. “You forgot 'funnier'," he said drably. "I didn't," soothed Karlach with a toothy smile. "I mentioned the short thing.” Okay. Now it was time to look at her. “Remind me why we're friends.” Suddenly Karlach lit up. Her entire upper half inflated with the breath she took in, and with it the flames that licked at her shoulders swelled higher. Mudgamble held up a hand. “Wait-” “Ohhmygods you just called me your friend!”
And OOF, y'ALL - I don't know enough people who for sure do fics. So I'ma tag Kem back (HI KEM) and add @thana-topsy, @whoredmode @xwexgotxcactusx and @bumbledd33
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dukeoftheblackstar · 2 months
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ngl, squeed more than a bit when I saw you reblogged our fic! (Where Angels Fear To Tread). I really enjoy your blog, so it made my day!
I'm excited for it because I know Kem mentioned that some months before when we interacted. I have it queued up and I promise to give a proper reaction / read for it!
And thank you for enjoying my blog of absolute foolishness! I updated my to read list for it and I am super psyched to get started!
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aceghosts · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday
Hey Everybody, I know it's been a while, but I feel like I have something to share! I was tagged by @direwombat, @clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @captastra, and so many others. Thank you so much for tagging me; It is always a joy to read what you are working on! 💙
I'll throw a few tags to @sstewyhosseini, @marivenah, @hoesephseed, @confidentandgood, @thomrainer, @derelictheretic, @detectivelokis, @strangefable, and anyone else who has anything to share!
So, I don't have anything Far Cry 5 related to share. I'm hoping to work on the final edits for Chapter 6 of the Five Years Later AU this weekend. I would love to have it out by the end of January, but I'm not sure that I will.
I do have something Resident Evil related. Here is a small snippet from Chapter 1 of Hunter's long fic (TW for Death and Anxiety):
“You’re wrong.” A foreboding feeling falls over Hunter, and they swallow, slightly swaying. What Dr. Griffin was saying wasn’t true. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it couldn’t be fucking true. “I’m not-I’m fucking not…” They can’t get the rest of the words out.
 “You’re infected, Captain Delaney. I’m sure you are competent enough to understand what that means.”
The world falls out from Hunter as they grip the terminal tightly, trying not to fall to the ground. He’s wrong; They’re not infected. “You’re lying, You’re a fucking liar,” They plead, inhaling panicked breaths. Yet, Hunter knows that is not the truth. They’re infected, and there is only one cure for infection. A bullet, preferably in the head.
“I am not lying, Captain Delaney. You know this,” His tone is harsh, as if he doesn’t have time to deal with a dying person’s hysterics, “Although, you should have mutated by now. None of the subjects lasted this long.” He tilts his head, his gray eyes pensive. “I wonder if there is something special about you, Captain Delaney. To last this long means the virus has found something in you, unique to the other subjects.”
I also have something P*kem*on related. (What can I say? I'm having a lot of fun writing for these two nerds.) Here is a small snippet from a 5+1 style fic:
Riley shakes their head, purposefully ignoring Ingo’s reservations. “Trust me, Ingo. This train is making it to its destination no matter what! Even If I have to swim through the ocean or fight a thousand Wingulls!” The Wingulls would surely lose, no match for Riley’s overwhelming tenacity. Yet, Ingo still feels a sense of anxiety about Riley leaving. They sigh, reaching up to touch his arm. “You know I’m coming back, right? It’s only going to be a year.”
“A year is a long time,” He counters, “It’s possible that you may find something to keep you in Hoenn, something that you feel you are missing in Unova.”
They shake their head, amusement bright in their eyes. “Yeah right,” Riley snorts, “Hoenn is just another place to see; another place to battle trainers. I promise I’m coming back.” Riley’s grin morphs into something truly mischievous. “And when I come back, the first thing I’m doing is kicking your ass in a battle.”
That one is a little rough since it's still in the first draft stages, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it.
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finn-m-corvex · 6 months
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Read thru all ur whumptober fics and i WILL be reading them over and over bc u write the ninja so well and I thrive off of jay angst
<33333
KEM THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Please feel free to scroll as much as you want to!! I sometimes scroll through your blog just to look at your art cause GAH it gives me so much lifeeeeeee and I love it so much! You and me both bestie Jay angst is 💪💪💪
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tagged by @kiwikipedia and @inquisitorius-sin-bin (thank yall <3)
Rules: Write the latest line from each of your wips (or post where you last left off in your art) and tag as many people as there are wips you are working on.
The aftermath could always be worse.
“darrviolence <3” — Darrash taking out a small problem of the Empire, the way he did would on Hutta. (He’s on Nar Shaddaa; it’s more than justified.) Kaliyo ….. is afraid for her life. And for once I wrote a LOT
it really isn’t that hard, not as hard as SOME people made it seem (ahem, thanaton)
“instigator ghosts” / “Instigation” — Yechnically the LAST line is just my copy-pasted Whumptober prompt I planned but never filled. But the last one I specifically wrote was just shit-talking Thanaton. imagine being named Teneb Kel. Rukota my love,,,,,, this is Kem’s influence I swear.
Hunter has no true name.
They have always been known as Hunter, and always will be.
“Righteous Violence” — basically my obligatory everything-went-so-wrong au. everything went LEFT. i haven’t written any of it yet but hoowee,,,,,, i’m excited to see how fucked up it gets
When he woke up, a young Dathomirian Zabrak was sitting beside him in the grasses and offered him a sealed container of water - he learned their name was Klaprika Vranai, and they too were a runaway from the Sith Academy.
“The Balmorran Change of Heart” — Balmorra has asserted herself as the planet I’ve become obsessed w in the most painstaking way, so naturally I had to bring back the World Story conglomerate fic about what the Imps and Reps get up to. Something something first and last taste of war, something something indiscrimination of violence, blah blah blah. This part was about my baby Ffon <3
Upon being informed that Darrash was the new Commander and he was to become a Lieutenant, the Rattataki shorted out a circuit breaker in glee.
“Acknowledged & Understood.” Darrash’s lovely canon (mine) storyline, this part specifically being where he claws his way back from hell and finds the Alliance, where Eikutyr (SW) and Anas (JK) eventually hand the reins to him - much to the dismay of Dilieth (JC). But Rukota (SI) is more than gleeful about it.
No, that wasn’t good enough; he needed his hands clasped together.
“dont put nealev in charge” / MOFF HUNTING SEASONNNNNNN this is the part where Darrash once again decides that violence IS the answer against grave injustices not only against himself but also the Empire. Darrash loves it when Moffs step out of live because he loves hunting them for sport.
I think that’s all my wips that I intend to work on rn or else I’d be here for weeks UM . Six tags….. @kemendin @calamity-aims @chiafett @purgetrooperfox @spaceydragons @ermakeys :)
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wltsleakirazine · 11 months
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WLTS Donations made!
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We’re so excited to announce that we’ve finally made our donation to Mary’s Meals, a nonprofit organization that provides meals for children in need!
With everybody’s support, whether as contributors, customers, or anybody who shared our social media posts, we were able to raise $2,700 total to donate!
Thank you so much to everybody who’s supported our zine. Nothing would have happened if it wasn’t for everybody involved, contributors, and customers alike.
A special thanks as well to mods Cafri, Iza, and Kem-- the idea started in a small writing group chat back in 2020 between the three and was able to grow into this project over time. 
Another special thanks to the rest of the mod team as well-- Ruby and Aqua for taking care of our finances, shipping, production (and graphics/formatting for Aqua), and Orion for stepping in last minute to help us finish out our formatting.
We would also like to remind everybody that the entire main story has finished being posted on Ao3, so if you want to read the collaborative leakira fic, you can here!
Stay tuned for one more announcement to close out this project!
Linktree
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diracsea · 11 months
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gần tròn 1 năm sau ngày bắt đầu nguyền ldc bằng những con fic của bản thân, giờ đây tôi đã biết viết em nó theo cách ít chầm kảm nhất có thể 🐧
dccd | Su kem vỏ giòn
cũng đang thèm su giòn lắm đây huhu
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simplymakkari · 1 year
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hi, i just started reading your vampire Drukkari fic and oh my god??? It's so amazing like your so talented I swear!!!! I know it's been a while but any chance for a sneak peek for ch 5? 🥺👉👈 So excited for next chapter and I have so many theories!!!!!
Aw thank you for this wonderful compliment anon! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Apologies for the next chapter not being up as I promised, but hopefully life will let me post it by the end of this month!!! 🤞🤞🤞 And here's your small sneak peek for next chapter! 🥰
___
On a particularly, sweltering humid day, Makkari boils, all-consuming, beads of perspiration rolling down her iwn, Druig close, the bareness of flesh pressed against her khet on this bed.
("Are ye just usin' me for me body?" he asks. He acquiesces, letting her tug off his kem tunic without question. Makkari grins, a pretended ponder forming.
"Perhaps," she teases lightly, her leg hooking and sliding against the back of his thigh. "You do have a lovely khet." In appreciation, she presses a finger to the tip of his nose and watches as dshr slowly creeps into his cheeks, her compliment sinking in.
"I do," he agrees, thumb and index cupping her chin and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. "May the better I service it to ye, m'dear.")
A scroll is held open in her left hand as she reads, his head resting on her chest, pale fingers tracing out patterns, plants and the likes against her areola, her ribs and her sternum, threading and mapping out more veins of coolness. She sighs contently, shivering slightly under his touch. He presses a cooling kiss against the swell of her right breast before his fingers move up to her shoulders, twirling the ends of her hair between his knuckles carefully.
They simply lie together, interwined, enjoying the comfort of each other's company, her warmth against his cold, Makkari soaking in the offering of Druig's iwn against hers.
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Rating: T Characters: Plo Koon, Commander Wolffe, the Jedi Council, assorted Jedi & Clone side characters, a whole bunch of OCs Chapters: 27/? Fic Contains – star warstrek crossover, a whole lotta culture clash, discussion of genocide and war and other Clone Wars-typical topics, Jedi culture/worldbuilding, and the authors playing fast and loose with both canons.
THEN: In the midst of the Clone Wars, a newly-minted Jedi Knight vanishes, suspected of defecting. But the woman brought back to face the Council is not Knight Tulin, but an officer of an extragalactic organization that calls itself ‘Starfleet’. Curiosity, and a determination to rectify the mistake, drive Plo Koon to take the lost Commander Chester under his wing. But between Republic Intelligence’s sinister interest in their extra-galactic visitor, the growing Separatist determination to capture her for themselves, and the good Commander’s own determined escape attempts, keeping Chester alive is hard enough–let alone getting her home. NOW: In the horrific wake of Order 66, a badly injured Plo Koon stakes his survival on one last desperate hyperspace jump, to a mysterious anomaly that might offer hope for him–and for what little remains of the Jedi Order. For Captain Diane Chester, Plo’s arrival is confirmation of all her fears. Now, she’s got to keep the Empire’s grubby hands off the Alpha Quadrant with only one ship, one Jedi, and that greatest Starfleet tradition–a hell of a lot of showmanship.
...
In today's update, Chester makes it back to Coruscant, the Jedi Council takes stock of recent events, Lingo and Joyride discover the joys of Shopping, and Count Dooku very slightly rethinks the advisability of becoming Palpatine's cringefail apprentice...
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kemendin · 1 year
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Contentment
What can I say, I woke up today and chose snuggles. Small sequel scene to my fic ‘Cover Your Crystal Eyes’.
Jedi Knight x Lord Scourge Words: 925
The first morning he wakes up next to Scourge, Cas turns a look over his shoulder, and smiles.
They must have shifted positions during the night. He remembers being settled on top of Scourge, drifting off with his head tucked beneath the other’s chin, feeling the slow swell and fall of the Sith’s broad chest beneath his cheek.
Now Scourge is a bulwark of warmth against his back, his body not so much moulded to Caspian’s as Cas is to him. One weighty arm is wrapped easily around the Jedi, his scarlet hand spread over the dark skin of Cas’ abdomen, where he can feel the steady rhythm of his partner’s breathing against his palm.
Cas studies the Sith fondly for another moment, soaking in the view, before passing an idle glance around the cabin of his ship. Early sunlight is threading itself through the narrow windows, melding with the muted glow of the gold-lit panels that border the walls and floor. With the Seeker at rest in its glade behind the Alliance base, and no other occupants aboard, the entire ship is so quiet, so calm, and the Commander is basking in it.
Sighing happily, Cas shifts himself closer against Scourge, sinking deeper into the Sith’s heavy embrace. Sleep is still dragging at his eyes and his brain, and the temptation to succumb to it again is undeniable. But there’s something to be said for savouring this as well, this liminal place between consciousness and slumber, where his entire existence has been reduced to the softness of sheets and the warmth of unyielding muscles now relaxed against him in repose.
A tiny smirk pulls at the Jedi’s lips. The irony of the situation has not escaped him; that for all the Jedi Order’s talk of finding serenity, and clarity, and peace, Cas has at last found all of this here: in the powerful, protective arms of a Sith.
Absently he seeks out Scourge’s hand with his own, weaves his fingers into the empty spaces between the Sith’s stronger digits. To his surprise he feels a slight squeeze in response, and then a tickle of breath across his ear.
“Awake so soon, Jedi?” Scourge’s voice is a thick hum that Cas can almost feel upon his skin.
Caspian rolls back against Scourge, turning his head around to regard him. The sight of the Sith’s half-lidded yet still-bright gaze causes his smile to broaden into a lopsided grin.
“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here,” he admits.
“I promised I would be,” replies Scourge. There’s a light rebuke in the tilt of his browstalks. “And I keep my promises.”
“Well, in that case - good morning, Scourge,” Cas says, more brightly. He cranes his head farther to deposit a blithe kiss on the nearest of the Sith’s chin tendrils.
“Good morning, Jedi,” returns Scourge, before nuzzling his face into Caspian’s silver hair and inhaling deeply.
Cas laughs a little. “Does my hair smell that good?” he teases.
Scourge considers. “It smells - like you,” he answers after a moment, slightly muffled, and Cas chuckles again. He understands that this is as good as a ‘yes’. 
Raising his head again, Scourge lets out a low groan of satisfaction and tightens his hold around the Jedi. “You are a very sound sleeper, Caspian,” he goes on. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up.”
Cas makes a wry expression at this. “I’m not, usually. But this….” He exhales a similarly contented sound, and tilts his head back, and smiles again when he feels Scourge meet the crown of his head with a kiss. “This was the best I’ve slept in… years. No tossing and turning, no waking up in the middle of the night. No awful dreams.”
Scourge hums deeply again. “I have not felt this well-rested for as long as I can remember,” he agrees. “Being bound by the Emperor’s ritual, I was not disturbed by dreams - but sleep was always hollow and unsatisfying. And the return of my emotions only made me more restless.”
With some effort, Cas manages to squirm onto his back while remaining cradled against his partner. He reaches up and brushes his thumb across Scourge’s lips, and the Sith’s mouth quirks beneath his touch.
“Ssshhh,” the Jedi scolds him, still smiling. “Don’t talk about all that, you’ll ruin the moment.” His forefinger strokes along the other’s ridged cheek. “None of that matters right now, remember? It’s just us, here, together.”
He stretches up to catch Scourge’s mouth in a full, tender kiss - only to have this blissful sentiment rudely interrupted by the sound of the ship’s hatch opening. A moment later the familiar trill of an astromech droid burbles from the central deck.
Scourge lifts a browstalk, pushing himself up on one elbow and glancing towards the door, even as Cas falls back with a disappointed groan.
“Just us - and the droid,” the Sith corrects drily. “I suggest you relay to him that there is no more room in the bed, before he starts getting ideas.”
A whir of servos approaches the cabin door. [T7 = bringing breakfast for Jedi + Sith!] comes the proudly beeped announcement.
Cas lets out a loud sigh, and looks up at Scourge. “What d’you think?” he asks ruefully. “Should we let him in?”
Several light thuds vibrate from just outside - like an astromech droid is running repeatedly into the door.
“I think,” says Scourge matter-of-factly, now speaking over the distinctive sound of a lock being overridden, “that we are being given very little choice in the matter.”
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yansurnummu · 29 days
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For Drals : 12 and 42.
Tell us everything <3
What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!
I had to think about this one, because he's someone who puts on a really stoic face and often has a hard time finding joy in things. however, EVERYONE has something that will make them laugh.
anything that makes Kem (his cringefail watchling buddy) squirm. this includes daedric gore, herbal smells, steam or smoke - if Kem is grossed out, it will make Drals chuckle.
he's a pretty Learned dude, but every now and then Azandar will use a word he's never heard before and it will baffle him to the point of having to laugh about it.
the word "stringent". he just thinks it's so... spongy.
If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?
OK SO in my fic I did make a reference to a dissertation he wrote when he was a Telvanni master, on "temporal resurfacing". As for what that actually is; it's sort of technobabble for what I imagine would be the mathematics behind a lot of the more complex magics relating to time & fate. To "resurface" would be to sand down a process to its bare essentials, therefore simplifying the math needed when adding multiple processes on top of the groundwork. Before his fall into Apocrypha, it was absolutely something he gave lectures on. (they were likely pretty boring and had poor attendance, however)
I think if he were to revisit the topic now he'd call it something more fun like "Temporal Resurfacing: How We Can Learn Mathematics from Mycelium"
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dirtyratkai · 2 years
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I wasn't able to keep it in the fic I'm currently writing, but I really love calling Iggy's wife and kids (him included of course) "the Kem household"
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postsofbabel · 8 months
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