#lady wren:: writing

[lady-wren-of-tella]

angst snippet!!

@foxannethemuffin who specifically wanted the angst lol (and @miirohs who loves zira almost as much as i do. good luck.)

trigger warnings: graphic depiction of injury!

this is a flashback of the time zira got the first injury that lead to her chronic problems! very angsty ppl

Zira looks up at the crumbling archway of the ruined temple, “The targets are in here,” she says lowly, just loud enough for her squadmates to hear. “Her Majesty asked for a clean assassination today, understood?”

“Yes, General,” her squadmates chorus quietly.

Her Second, Rukiya, snaps her fingers and sparks dance over her skin, and she’s standing close enough that Zira can feel the heat. “You all know the drill. Quick kills and then we leave the Lazian’s to deal with the bodies. I don’t want to see yours among them.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” the rest of them say, readying themselves.

“We’re ready, General,” Rukiya says softly. “On your move.”

Zira reaches out with her Ferrokinesis, making the mechanisms of the lock move and the doorknob turn. “Clean kills, soldiers,” she whispers, and opens the doors by manipulating the hinges.

Her squadmates pour into the abandoned temple, weapons and powers ready.

Something whistles through the air and Zira ducks. She knows the sound of a knife slicing through the air. 

Jada hisses as the sleeve of her uniform rips, leaving a bloody graze on the side of her upper arm. “I’m hit,” she calls out to the team. “Icicle.”

“We found our Cryo,” Rukiya announces. “Now we just need the Pyro.”

Zira lets her ferrokinetic range extend, feeling out for the inevitable pull of buttons, zippers, and blades. Her eyes widen when she senses three separate clusters of metal instead of two.

“Rukiya,” she whispers harshly, and her Second makes the miniscule shift backwards so Zira barely has to draw a breath to be audible. “There’s a third.”

The woman frowns. “The rest have the two handled. We have the third.”

“Tell the team.”

“They’ll figure it out.”

“Fine.” Zira slinks around the corner down a corridor, stepping over a chunk of stone from a broken section of the wall, drawing daggers from one of the little pouches on her suit. She chances a look up, frowns at the cracks in the mosaic ceiling.

“Sense?” Rukiya asks, using code as she asks Zira to try and sense where the third person could be by finding the metal they’re wearing.

Zira blinks, pushing out her ferrokinetic awareness, and finds them. “Block one,” she answers in code too. “Right.” She tells her Second that their target is at the end of the corridor and to the right.

Rukiya takes the lead, creeping forward and looking around left and right, Zira following only a few steps behind. 

Trusting Rukiya to warn her of any danger, Zira focuses on finding their target by tracking metal again, vision going a bit blurry as she devotes energy to her ferrokinesis. Her heart skips a beat in her chest when she realizes how close the other two metal signatures are. “Ruki–”

The loud whoosh of fire cuts her off as the pyrokinetic they’re looking for fires a powerful jet from his hidden position down at them.

Zira dives to the side and hopes Rukiya did the same. Before she can jump up to her feet, the sickening sound of crumbling rock makes her look up. The ceiling crumbles as a massive chunk starts to free itself.

The princess scrambles backwards, hands slipping on the dusty, smooth floor.

She can’t do anything but brace herself for agony as the hunk of ceiling falls right onto her leg. Zira can’t help the guttural scream that rips its way out of her throat as her knee shatters under the stone’s weight, vision swimming.

“We’ve got a Terra!” Rukiya shouts to the rest of the team, and Zira can do nothing but watch as she strikes. “Metal’s down!” Her Second finds the pyrokinetic and terrakinetic swiftly, their attack having given their positions away. 

Without even a moment of hesitation, Rukiya, an aerokinetic, steals the air from their lungs and drives a knife through each one of their hearts. Their lungs shred themselves apart as they spasm against the blade in their chest and both targets crumple to the ground.

Rukiya turns back to Zira, calling something out to the team, and the princess gags because of the pain as her Second nears.

“General, can you hear me?” Rukiya asks.

Zira tries to answer, but all that comes out is a drawn-out, pained groan. Everything turns to blobs as her head lolls backwards, body trembling as she holds back tears and whimpers.

Rukiya’s voice is close to her ear when Zira hears it again. “General, we’re going to get you out of here.” She turns to the rest of the team, who Zira hadn’t even realized had arrived. “Owen, lift the rock. Kailune, Gilryn, help me carry the general.”

The team’s terrakinetic, Owen, lifts the chunk of ceiling with a wave of his hand.

Zira can’t hold back her whimper.

Rukiya, always composed Rukiya, swears colorfully when she sees Zira’s knee finally uncovered. “Don’t look, General,” she says hoarsely. “It’s bad, but you’re going to be okay. We’ll get you to a healer and you’ll be back on the field in no time.”

Kailune and Gilryn’s arms arms slip under her shoulders and thighs, lifting her up gently.

Zira screams again, but it’s cut off because Rukiya takes the air out of her lungs for a moment, quickly giving it back before she could actually start suffocating. Zira’s head falls forward, neck muscles giving out as her body spasms with agony.

She can’t close her eyes in time, and the sight of her ruined mess of a knee nearly makes her stomach heave so hard she convulses.

Rukiya’s hand, still stained with the terrakinetic’s and pyrokinetic’s blood, comes up to cover Zira’s eyes gently. “I told you not to look, general.”

Zira’s voice is rough from her screams and shaky from her nausea when she speaks. “Rukiya, it’s bad. It’s really, really bad.” She gags and grits her teeth as Kailune and Gilryn take a step to the side. “The queen–” she whimpers when the people holding her move again. “The queen will–”

“The queen will give you time to heal.”

Kailune and Gilryn lower her back down onto the ground and Zira bites down on her tongue so hard it bleeds.

“General?” Rukiya starts gently, and Zira hates the sound of pity. “Do I have permission to knock you out? Just for your own sake.”

Reluctantly, Zira nods.

Nodding once, Rukiya snaps her fingers and Zira feels her lungs empty.

The princess tries to keep her body still, but as her head grows fuzzy, she succumbs to her biological instincts and panics. Zira thrashes violently, and only Kailune and Gilryn’s steady hands keep her from ruining her knee more with her wild movements.

“Sleep, General,” Rukiya urges softly as Zira’s spasms grow weaker. “Sleep.”

Again, she succumbs to her biology, and passes out.

----

ofc, more happens in the chapter after this, but I haven't finished it, so yall are just getting this flashback for now :]

hope you liked it!

#writing wip #my writing #wren is writing #lady wren:: writing #ladywrenoftella

[lesmisscraper]

The Last Moment of Valjean, Volume 5, Book 9, Chapter 5.

Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.

#Les miserables #les mis #My Post #Jean Valjean #Cosette #Father and daughter #Owl and Wren #Marius #Lark and Booby #M. Madeleine #The Silver Candlesticks #Bishop Myriel #Little Mlle. Lanoire #Poor Lark #The Dark Forest #When Two Anxious Hearts First Met #Fantine #Lady all in White #Angel and Lark #Poor Mother... #Sister Simplice #Fantine's Death #They had a child! #Valjean's Death #Finally this moment has come. #The journey of a convict who turned into a saint. #It's such a Nice Thing that Tumblr allowed more than 10 images so I can write the entire quote of Valjean's last words into a single post! #Also I love this adaptation since they used the Bishop and Fantine as two angels instead of Eponine like in the 2012 film #The Brick #Il cuore di Cosette

[skiitter]

Kes pre and post illithid tadpole as the former Chosen of Bhaal. Doesn't get her cool tiefling eyes until the tadpole shoved into her brain sort of resets it. She was far more understated back then, especially to stand in contrast to Orin's chaos.

Her name was Bitter, in keeping with tiefling naming conventions, though Orin obnoxiously called her Blank, since she her expression would go unnervingly empty whenever the Urge was upon her.

#Kes the Durge #I just think she's neat :) #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #The Dark Urge spoilers #bg3 spoilers #I never bother to develop these OCs outside of my head and any fics I write so I'm trying to actually show them off to people #Kes is far easier than Wren since Wren was just Some Lady before the tadpole #Where as Bitter was literally killing and eating and fucking her way through a lot of corpses #love how fucking unhinged the durge is canonically before the tadpole #like yes we love it you were Depraved babe

[ladyddanger]

Hey guys I wrote a silly little story about mine and friend oc’s. You should read it 🥺

#bastion smp #bsmp #c!max #c!jo #c!wren #c!raid #lady writes

[wayward-wren]

okay Eric has shown up in Girl Meets World and given the very broad hints my flatmate had given (she is so bad at hinting) I was legit thinking all yesterday 'if Eric ends up as a hermit like in that one flashforward everyone gets a bad ending episode of bmw I'm gonna be so mad' and he DID and I am so mad.

Admittedly it sounds like there are people around which does soften the blow. Eric is a people person he needs people and I do appreciate the episode acknowledge that. But STILL my guy is more than Idiot Man 😭

The more I watch of girl meets world the more I want to write a longfic

#Wren rambles #Boy meets world #Girl meets world #Don't even get me STARTED on Shawn #I don't hate that he's getting together with Maya's mother #But I DO hate that they basically just thew out his entire relationship with Angela foe it #And he has no reason to be in the show except being mayas father figure #Side note the flatmate who hadn't seen it before was asking if Shawn WAS mayas father #And ngl that would have made a way more interesting storyline imo and I might write it one day #Shawn had a kid maybe without realising and dipped #Realised he's turning into his father #Having to make an effort to break the cycle and being in her life #Anyway that's beside the point Eric. #My guy deserves to have depth #I love the later seasons of BMW so much #But I HATE how Eric just gets relegated to idiot man #Like there that one episode where he throws his dignity away to do everything the rich nepotism new boss lady said #And Jack is trying to be like bro she's using you #But Eric just ignores him and does whatever she says #I Hate It #Fjshfjsjfsjfjsifj I'm gonna have to write a full character analysis aren't I #Or at least a fic #Something about Eric hearing he's stupid from everyone EVEN HIS PARENTS and internalising it #Not seeing any worth--or point in trying--and ending up with a crowd that's taking advantage of him #He's SMART #He's good with people! Stop calling him stupid! #(I also have a headcanon that he had an e ating dis order in highschool #Wanna write something expending on that one day) #ANYWAY I NEED TO GO TO BED NOW ERIC MY BELOVED IM SO SORRY THEY DID THIS TO YOU

[jessequinnfirstofhername]

The Rules:

Every twenty-four hours there will be another round. After every round, the character in last place will be eliminated.

If there are multiple characters tying for last place, there will be a special elimination round. In these rounds, every character in last place will be eliminated, even if all the characters have tied equally.

When there are only two characters remaining, they will face off against one another in a week-long poll to determine the victor.

If the character that you consider the hottest isn't listed here, hit the 'what about ___???' option and reply to this post with the overlooked character. The character with the highest 'write-in' votes will be added to the next round. Unless the 'what about ___???' option is the least voted for, in which case it will be eliminated. Welcome to the party, Jyn and Cinta!

This is all for fun. Don't take it too seriously ;)

RIP to our first casualty: Rose Tico.

I have a lot of questions. Number one, how dare you?

...I mean, I'm an impartial observer, and have no comment on who wins or loses.

Everyone, please give a warm welcome to our two new options! Jyn Erso and Cinta Kaz!

...and let's also acknowledge all of the other fabulous ladies who didn't quite make it.

Shaak Ti, Satine Kryze, Asajj Ventress, Mon Mothma, Fennec Shand, Elia Kane, Bix Caleen, Kleya Marki, Darth Talon, Qi'ra, and Visas Marr.

Round Two!

#star wars #leia organa #rey #ahsoka tano #padme amidala #sabine wren #bo katan kryze #shin hati #aayla secura #hera syndulla #captain phasma #jyn erso #cinta kaz #star wars prequels #star wars rebels #andor #rogue one #star wars the original trilogy #the mandalorian #star wars sequel trilogy #hottest star wars woman #round two

[jymwahuwu]

@blbrrymilk wren I can't stop my brainrot Dr. Ratio + spanking we talked about yesterday 😫��� I tried to endure it but failed… have to write it out. This is extremely self-indulgent. I'm a little embarrassed lmao

And I’m sorry it’s not you as the second person perspective, because I think some of the descriptions of you may not be accurate 🥺🫶💖

You never thought about taking Dr. Ratio's course. Actually that's out of your control. On the selection day, after you entered the damn subject selection system, other students had already rushed in and snatched up all those simple electives. There are a few elective courses left, some that you don’t even know what they mean from the course names. The professor teaching these courses is: "Dr. Veritas Ratio", and there are a large number of student places.

Veritas Ratio…you remember classmates talking about this name. Ratio has taught 52 courses during his tenure, and the completion rate is no more than 3%… That is an impossible challenge!! You put your hands in your hair, groaning in distress.

But… you can't choose other electives… just take classes first and then think of other options… the worst you can do is just retake the electives.

This is your first lesson in the Dr. Ratio course. Before class, you bought a cup of milk tea as usual and wanted to take it to class to drink. This is a way for you to boost your spirits and relax. No professor ever criticized you. When you entered the classroom carrying milk tea, you saw a professor with purple haze curly short hair standing in front of the lecterns. You were slightly intimidated because you had never seen such a young and…muscular professor. His sleeves are bare and you can observe his well-developed muscles. He glanced at you, the laurel accessory on his head was shining, and then returned to the students in the audience.

You stepped lightly and sat on your seat holding milk tea.

The class started soon… about 12 students were sitting in different corners. And you found a corner to drink milk tea while listening to those principles and knowledge…you couldn't understand. This is so boring. You pouted, thinking that you really had to retake the class this time. At this time, a girl walked in wearing a decent and neat college uniform. She first confirmed the classroom number before walking in and planning to find a seat.

"Excuse me, Miss. Do you need to apologize for being late?" The professor stopped her.

You looked at the time on your notebook in surprise, huh? Is it just 20 seconds late? The girl was obviously frightened. She apologized quietly and ran to a seat. You feel sorry for her.

What a fussy professor. No wonder so few students take his classes.

When you listen to those lectures, your eyelids feel heavy. You use your laptop to browse the web and drink milk tea. By the way, you participate in a department store lottery belonging to IPC (what you want is a spaceship ticket. You did win, but that’s a cup of ice cream wtf…).

"The lady sitting on the left side of the sixth row." The endless stream of knowledge lectures came to an abrupt end. Dr. Ratio suddenly started calling the student - you. You took a few sips of milk tea before you noticed all the eyes in the classroom were on you. "A-are you calling me, Professor?"

He ordered with an expressionless expression, like a calm volcano. "Yes. And the lady fourth from the right in the third row. The one who was late just now. "

What? Is he going to drive you two away? Is he some kind of middle school teacher!?

Thinking of this, your fear was overshadowed by fun. Whether he wants to reprimand you or expel you or something, this should not be allowed in college.

You stood in front of him and the girl with an impatient look on your face. She looked confused. You obviously don't know why the professor ordered you two to stand here.

"Okay." He ordered. "Take off your uniform skirt and underwear, both of you."

"What?!" You have never heard such ridiculous words! What does he want to do to you? This is an absolute abuse of power! The girl next to you also frowned and argued with reason. "Professor. What are you going to do? This is unacceptable in college." The students in the classroom immediately started talking and whispering to each other.

"I can, and if in fact you don't comply, you will be expelled and go back to your planet to rest." He waved his arm, waiting for a reaction from the two of you. "You can call the principal or the university office immediately if you don't believe it. I never tell useless false information."

You stared at him for dozens of seconds, trying to see any falsehood in those damn golden eyes…but there was no such thing. He means it. Courage and morality tell you to run out of college and report him, but something inside tells you…that's just not working.

You slowly unzipped your uniform skirt. The girl next to you is more courageous than you. She just picked up her bag and wanted to run out of the classroom, but the cost was that Dr. Ratio grabbed her directly, pulled down her uniform skirt and panties, and bent her waist. The slap immediately hit her buttocks loudly. You watch in horror what's going on, what? Is this really happening? Spanking? Spanking in public?

"It's a pity that you don't have enough concentration, miss. I would appreciate it if you put your energy into class." His firm palm slapped her buttocks, delivering heat and unrelieved pain. There was no predictable rhythm, three slaps on her left hip, five on the right. "By the way, lateness is also unacceptable."

The girl put her hands on the lecterns and whimpered. The slaps from behind fell like a storm, causing her to occasionally kick her legs to relieve the pain. You want to stop Dr. Ratio's unreasonable abuse of power, but how? Witnessing these cruel and inhumane atrocities (referring to spankings), you wince from time to time, and some hallucinations of pain appear on your buttocks, just like those slaps have fallen on your body.

Quietly, you pulled up your skirt again.

After twenty more particularly loud and humiliating slaps, it finally stopped.

You hope it's Dr. Ratio realizing the inappropriateness of his behavior, but he just orders the sobbing classmate to stand in the corner (still without her skirt or panties on! What a pervert!). Then he pulls your shoulders and pulls your skirt and panties down to your ankles. The shame of public exposure washes over you immediately.

"Stop - I hate you!!" You screamed, but your waist was restrained and your bare ass was slapped continuously. He literally lights a fire in your ass… Slap. Slap. Slap. This hurts so much! You can't help but admire that classmate. With such pain, she didn't even scream like you…

"I noticed you've been drinking some high-calorie drinks and you're obviously not paying attention to class. This is just an appropriate punishment for your behavior." He announced the reasons for the punishment calmly, as if he had the authority to do so. “I hope you have a basic respect and reverence for the place where knowledge is imparted.”

"Stop fussing or making noise or I'll use the ruler."

You held your breath, not believing what you were hearing. ruler. That big, long, transparent ruler on his desk? A brief moment, but it felt like centuries of ravage. Not only the shame of being spanked in front of everyone, but also the pain and frustration...

You still ended with more than twenty particularly hard slaps. By the time it was over, you had tears streaming down your face and you were put in the corner by him.

Corner time...

He is a barbarian...a scoundrel...a violent maniac..

"Turn around," Dr. Ratio ordered. You looked weakly at the two hard chairs that had been placed. He told the two of you to sit down.

You sat down, the soreness worsening from the hard material. You squirmed uncomfortably. A textbook has been thrust into both of your hands.

"Good. Listen intently now, because I don't mind another round of punishment for you two." He turned around and drew on the holographic blackboard with electronic chalk. "Let's continue with class."

[illuminatedquill]

Cyar'ika

A Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger Story

Story Summary: Takes place during Ahsoka Season 2. Making a hasty exit from Peridea, Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger are finally heading home together - only without Ahsoka, who elected to stay behind to finish the mission she started. Feeling lost without the presence of her Master and the grim ordeal of facing Thrawn's resurgent Empire ahead, Sabine is facing her lowest point yet. However, her trial is just beginning as Ezra finally confronts his closest friend with the knowledge about her deal with Thrawn. And the conversation that follows will change everything between them.

*Fan-art by the amazing @rancidsugar! Used here with their permission, since it directly inspired this fanfic.

Author’s Note: With the fantastic news that Ahsoka S2 is now in development, I finally decided to take a crack at writing the next reunion for our favorite duo. It’s a long time coming, and we all know Sabine needs to come clean with Ezra about certain things she’s been hiding from him. Let’s see how he responds.

The star whale's mouth gaped open, as Huyang maneuvered the T-6 shuttle into its mouth. Sabine held her breath as the vessel slipped inside, warily keeping an eye on the enormous teeth that hovered directly over them.

"Easy does it," muttered Ezra. He stood between her and Huyang in the shuttle's cockpit, eyes closed and hand outstretched; through the Force, Sabine could feel her friend communicating with the purrgil. Reassuring waves of calm and peace flowed through the bond he had with the majestic beast, making sure that they were not crunched between its massive jaws.

Sabine gazed in admiration at Ezra's competence, in the easy confidence he had in his abilities. He had grown so much in his time away from home and truly become the Jedi that Kanan wished him to be.

He would be so proud of you, she thought with a pang of melancholy. Not for the first time, she wished Kanan was here to witness all of this.

Her thoughts turned to her own master, Ahsoka Tano, who had elected to stay behind to finish her task on Peridea. Sabine felt guilt trickle into her emotions, remembering their last conversation before she left.

"We're supposed to stick together, remember? I'm not leaving you."

"Thrawn is your mission. What's happening here on Peridea is mine. I must see this through. And Ezra will need your help in defeating Thrawn."

"I can't do this without you, master. There's so much more I need to learn."

"You already know everything you need. I have nothing more to offer you than this: just be yourself, Sabine. That's more than enough."

She closed her eyes, feeling the pang of melancholy sharpen into grief. Once again, another loved one had gone and there was nothing she could do about it.

As if reading her thoughts, Huyang said, "Do not grieve for Lady Tano, Sabine. She was only able to make her choice because of you."

"You mean it was my fault," said Sabine bitterly.

"Not at all. It is because you are going home that she was able to stay on Peridea to deal with the threat there. She trusted you, Sabine Wren, to deal with Thrawn."

You know I can always count on you, right?

Sabine felt a small smile escape through the gloom of her feelings, remembering the young boy who had uttered those words a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away . . .

Ahsoka had told her the same in their last conversation. Her master was counting on her to see this through. And she would. She promised herself, and to Ahsoka, that she would do whatever it takes to ensure that it was done.

And then she would bring Ahsoka home, so they could all finally live in peace.

The shuttle shuddered and a bright spectrum of lights filled the cabin; Sabine squinted her eyes at the dazzling array, almost blinded by the light show in front of them.

"Here we go," said Ezra. She looked at him, seeing the satisfied smile on his face. Sabine, not able to help herself, reached forward and squeezed his hand.

Ezra turned to look at her. "Thanks for coming back," she said.

He squeezed her hand back affectionately. "Did it in record time, too," he teased. "What's your excuse?"

Sabine rolled her eyes. "There was a war still going on, remember?"

"Uh-huh," replied Ezra, sounding unconvinced. "I guess I'll let it slide."

"This will take a while," Huyang said, interrupting their banter. "Ezra, if you would please tend to Lady Wren's injuries? I will stay here and keep an eye on things while you two rest."

Sabine blinked and then a wave of exhaustion and pain swept over her; she had forgotten how desperate their escape had been until now when Huyang had said something.

Ezra blinked and muttered a curse. "Right. Sorry, Sabine." He reached forward and lifted her from the co-pilot seat. She started to protest but another wave of exhaustion slipped past her defenses and only a weak mumble escaped her lips as Ezra carried her to the med-bay.

"You're awfully quiet," observed Sabine while he finished patching up her wounds some time later.

Ezra carefully applied a final bandage to a cut on her right upper forearm before replying, "Huyang's right. You shouldn't beat yourself up about Ahsoka. She needed to stay. And you needed to go home."

He sat back and double-checked his handiwork. "Can you walk?"

Sabine attempted to sit up from the medical bed but was immediately faced with a dozen sharp pinpricks of pain from all over her body. "You mean today?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Ezra smiled briefly at her attempt at humor before saying, "Bedrest it is, then."

Sabine grimaced but laid back in the bed. "This is doing wonders for my confidence," she muttered.

Ezra reached out and held her hand. "Surviving Peridea is an achievement only a few can claim. It's an exclusive club, Sabine. You're now a part of it."

She snorted. "Well," she mused, "if Thrawn can do it, then I sure as hell can."

At the mention of Thrawn, she saw Ezra's face become troubled. A flash of insight from the Force revealed something dark roiling beneath Ezra's confidence . . .

"What is it?" she asked quietly. "I felt that."

Ezra let go of her hand and sat back in his chair. She could practically see the gears whirring away inside his head as he thought through some particularly difficult decision.

Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. "I found the purrgils," he said slowly.

"I can see that," replied Sabine. "Seeing as though we're in one."

Ezra reached up to rub the back of his head. He's nervous about something, she noted. Her stomach began to sink, feeling the direction of his thoughts; small seeds of doubt were sprouting in his mind.

About her.

He looked up at her. "So did Thrawn," he said.

She inhaled sharply. "He was there?"

Ezra nodded. "He guessed what my next move was. I managed to get ahead of him, thanks to Hera's intervention but . . ."

"But what, Ezra?" Sabine felt like she didn't want to know the answer.

He reached down to his belt and took out his comm-link. "He sent me a message," he said quietly.

Ezra clicked on the comm-link and a conversation began to play.

Thrawn: "I must congratulate you on your success today, Ezra Bridger. You've shown great loyalty to your friends, Sabine Wren and Ahsoka Tano."

Ezra: "Not that you would understand anything about that. I'll be seeing you later, Grand Admiral."

Thrawn: "Indeed you will. Perhaps to a changed galaxy. All thanks to your friend, Sabine. How different things would be if she did not care so much about you."

Ezra: ". . . What's that supposed to mean?"

Thrawn: "Oh, she didn't tell you? Unfortunate. Be sure to give her my thanks when you reunite."

The recording stopped. Ezra gazed at Sabine, eyes unreadable, waiting for her answer.

Sabine couldn't bring herself to look at him. She just stared at the comm-link in his hand, wanting to be anywhere else than here, wanting a black hole to emerge and suck her into its void. Any hell would be preferable instead of having to face an Ezra who knew about what she had done.

"Sabine." His voice was soft, not accusatory. Almost pleading.

At last, she finally found her voice, weak as it was. "What do you want me to say, Ezra?" she asked. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"I want you to say whatever it is you want to say. I'm just going to listen," he said.

She folded her arms over her stomach; it felt like everything important inside her was threatening to spill out. "I'm not going to apologize," she whispered.

"Okay," was all he said.

"You weren't there. I had to make a choice. No one else was there. It was just me. Ahsoka - I thought Baylan had killed her. She was gone. And you were still gone, and I had the map." She hated how desperate her voice sounded.

Ezra, true to his word, didn't say anything. He just watched her.

"I couldn't lose you like I lost my family. Like how I thought I had lost Ahsoka. I wasn't - I wasn't strong enough to lose you a second time. My best friend." Tears threatened to blur her vision; a sob, rising in her throat steadily, almost robbed her voice of what little strength it had. She fought through it.

"So, I handed the map over. I made the deal with Thrawn to find you. I betrayed everything you and Kanan and everyone else sacrificed and died for. All just so I could see you again."

At last, she turned to look at him. The tears fell freely now down her face. "I doomed the galaxy for you, Ezra Bridger. And the worst part of it is, I'd do it again. Even knowing how it would all end."

Ezra gazed at her for a long moment and then turned away. Sabine struggled to sit-up and pleaded, "Ezra, please say something. Say anything."

He stood up abruptly. She blinked at him in surprise. "Say that you hate me and just get this over with," she said, resigned. Her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces but this was the price she knew would be paid the moment the map left her hand.

He stood over her. She waited for him to say the words that would end their friendship.

Instead, he clasped his hands over the sides of her face and leaned forward, gently touching his forehead with hers. Her eyes widened with surprise - and then with overwhelming gratitude as she felt the love and reassurance from him flow through their bond in the Force.

Sabine couldn't hold it back anymore. She started to openly weep. "After all this?" she cried. "Even with all that I've done?"

"Always," he reassured her. "I forgive you. Always. It'll be okay, Sabine. We'll figure it out, together."

"I'm weak," she said. "I did something so bad."

"You are not weak," replied Ezra firmly. "You are enough. You are extraordinary, Sabine. And it's not like I haven't done things I regret, you know? The Sith Holocron, you remember?"

Sabine shook her head. "This isn't the same! This is the whole galaxy that's at stake."

Ezra chuckled. "It's not a competition, first of all. And when hasn't the galaxy been at stake? We've dealt with Thrawn before, we'll do it again."

The guilt surged up within her, refusing to be assuaged by his words. "But - "

"But nothing," Ezra said sternly. "Sabine. Listen to me. Did you build the gigantic hyperdrive ring that Thrawn used to get back?"

She stared at him, thrown off by the sudden question. "Uh, no."

"Did you put Morgan Elsbeth onto his path as a partner? Did you hire Baylan and Shin?"

Sabine saw where his line of questions was heading. Grimacing, she said, "No, but - "

Ezra interrupted her. "Yes, you had a role in his return. But not all of it belongs to you, do you understand? He couldn't have returned without a lot of help, not just you."

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "I get it. I think."

"Good," he said. "No more feeling guilty. We need to be focused for what lies ahead."

Sabine looked at him. "We?" she asked.

He nodded. "You're stuck with me, Sabine Wren. Whether you like it or not."

She smiled, considering his words. "I guess that's not so bad." She looked him over and shook her head in amazement.

"What is it?" Ezra asked.

"When did you grow up so quickly, goober?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Haven't heard that nickname in a while. Since we were kids," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "Guess I can't really call you that anymore, huh."

Ezra winked at her. "You can call me whatever you like, Sabine."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I'll think about it," she said. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled, interrupting the conversation. Sabine flushed with embarrassment.

Ezra laughed. "I'll heat up some food. Be right back."

Watching him leave, the moment he was out of earshot, Sabine said softly, "I'll be here, cyar'ika."

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #ezrabine #star wars #ahsoka show #ahsoka #natasha liu bordizzo #eman esfandi #sabezra fanfiction

[serendipititties]

my mutuals and why they are superior:

@hyperfixatingdumdum - we're related so im biased but i mean. Shes studying medicine. She paints. She sings. Shes bi. Shes might or might not be cis. She takes meds for ADHD. She has that broken girl swag. She has it all. Shes pretty too and ladies she is hella single.

@luvrli - has the nicest sounding voice ever. She paints too so thats sick. Plus she, @hyperfixatingdumdum and I have that telugu bi girl swag and thats always amazing to have. Probably good in school too. Also was my first ever mutual when i joined tumblr! Love her

@deadaldipshit-jpg - she writes AND draws. Shes aroace and tamil. Coolness needs to observe them and take notes.

@pollywantsacracker - so iconic. Serves cunt like its free. Funny, brave, gorgeous, and awesome. She is so strong. She is the moment. Also pansexual so thats punk as hell.

@imslowlydisintegrating - he possesses a gender so confounding I couldnt do it justice if i tried. Shes so so so sweet. Has incredible taste. Is from louisiana and probably has an accent which is sooooo cool of them. Shes neurodivergent and a writer?? Writes poc characters and tries to do them justice?? Perfection.

@drew-dopamine - aroace trans boy. Need i say more? (Helps that hes funny and really nice too). Love him endlessly.

@beomgyutruther - she and I are studying for the same exam right now sooo. But yeah shes indian and queer and amazing and all that is good in this lonely world.

@katyakazanovas - so pretty. I mean shes a lovely person too probably but i got distracted for a second. And shes a fan of ghost so thats cool. Plus shes texan? And pansexual? Incredible is an understatement. Great taste in music 19/10.

@bassguitarinablackt-shirt - I have to be honest, he's blonde so there really isnt much i can defend here. He makes up for it by being a trans he/they gay boy though! Plus he writes! Awesome. Hes super sweet too.

@bil-daddy - Nuff said. (Really nice tho i did message them and they were super sweet)

@docdust- hilarious and lovable. We havent interacted much but i love this blog.

@70snasagay - i mean theyre hungarian so thats already cool. But theyre bi too? And adorable?? And a good omens girly?? I fear im in love.

@lordcatwich - genderfluid neurodivergent writer. How could you top this? (Super sweet and funny too. 19/10)

@funkyratman - came into my dms offering to fight me for the name wren. Common he/him W in my opinion. We're gonna be highway robbers together now.

@purichana that url is the url of one who fought tooth and nail for it. I respect the hustle and the vibes are quite good.

also. @cheezbot. Hilarious.

Edit: i found out pollywantacracker (mint-mayonnaise rn) is lesbian now so thats awesome. The lesbians are lucky to have her

#wren et al #mutual appreciation #wren left her barbequeue on

[wolfwrenweek]

day one: devouring heavenly bodies ART: graphite drawing on paper by queer-fangrrrl-daydreaming ☆ obsession by shipping1addict ☆ devouring heavenly bodies by thedivergentbatch ☆ with teeth by cmbdragon98 ☆ excuse for physical contact by im-yotsu ☆ Possessive Love by ali-mart ☆ Bandit Shin by rainestorm-days ☆ sick and tired by rubidimum ☆ they did not let it linger by kokonut713 ☆ devouring heavenly bodies by grimdarkqueen ☆ bites bites bites by somewillwin ☆ 🤍💜 by karasyelena ☆ sketches by rainestorm-days ☆ the wolf and her moon by endoplight ☆ scars and bites by luciouz ☆ Devouring Heavenly Bodies by light-fawn ☆ blood by natchosfarfaraway

WRITING: i am all alone and my only judge is me by nightincarnate ☆ biting + blood by oftenlyshitposting ☆ New haircut? by rainestorm-days ☆ Sugar, We’re Going Down Swinging by tamoline ☆ her mausoleum by shinhatisgirlfriend ☆ devouring heavenly bodies by how-do-i-do-words ☆ Miód Malina by mandalorianfleshenjoyer ☆ Chapter 1: The Hunt by asianscaper ☆ you were the one (I’d have starved with) by schlo-300 ☆ A Biting afFair by veditas ☆ moon-drunk monster by the-lovely-lady-luck ☆ Scars by MJTatch ☆ tongues and teeth by tonsillessscum ☆ It's a Long Way to Peridea by melanie-ohara ☆ Artemis’s Possession by kalevalakryze

EDITS/MUSIC: wolfwren playlist by shipping1addict ☆ Wolf Cento by kalevalakryze ☆ shin hati by triangulore ☆ possessive love by erisyuu ☆ hungry eyes by ssapphos ☆ wish by twocrowssinatrenchcoat ☆ the wren by bailey41 ☆ raw with love by armoralor ☆ Where it Begins by tonsillessscum

Thank you to all the amazing creators that participated in #wolfwrenweek2023! 🗡️❤️ to see a full list of all submissions in one place, we've also created a spreadsheet with of participants [here]. Our blog also has a tab that lists all creations [here]! Special thank you to the amazing event mods that helped make this event week possible: @sapphicsparkles, @coldcutfruit, and @armoralor ❤️

#wolfwren #sabine wren #shin hati #ahsoka #star wars #sapphic star wars #star wars wlw #shinbine #sabine x shin #sabine wren x shin hati #wolfwrenweek2023 #wolfwrenweek #shin hati x sabine wren #admin post

[lady-wren-of-tella]

Undeserving (I Love You Too Much to Let You Stay) -- a Zivy oneshot

word count: 5,215 tw// mentions of past abuse, extreme self-doubt I've been working on this oneshot for a while and I'm so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy this very self-indulgent piece.

love you guys <3 (and thank you @miirohs for your help + enthusiasm)

Zira wakes up with her skin crawling. Her eyes flutter open and Zira is greeted by the beautiful sight of Ivy’s freckled face soft with sleep, red hair resting on the pillow around her like a halo of protective fire.

The sun streams through the bedroom window, light blessing Ivy with its golden touch.

Zira looks at the personification of perfection and feels her heart sink.

With grace and stealth learned on the most bloodstained of fields, Zira slides out of bed, careful not to disturb Ivy. She walks around the bed to close the curtains, trying to breathe through the feeling humming under her skin. Everything about this morning feels wrong, and, unfortunately, shrouding the bedroom in shadow doesn’t help anything.

Still asleep, Ivy lets out a deep exhale and Zira feels her body warm with a mix of affection and guilt.

She’s perfect, look at her, Zira’s mind whispers. You’re ruining her.

She dresses quickly, deftly slipping out of her bed clothes and putting on a simple day gown. The tailored fabric feels soothing on her skin, but the steel circlet she slides over her head to rest against her forehead feels better. Zira resists the urge to hold it to her nose just to let the calming smell of metal wash over her.

The sheets rustle as Ivy turns over and Zira’s heart jumps. Her heartstrings strain at the sight of the frown on Ivy’s face as her arm falls through a space beside her that should have been filled. Guilt pools in her gut, but every fiber of Zira’s body screams at her to get out.

The princess ducks out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door as quietly as possible.

Mornings in the Imani palace are bright, sunlight bouncing off the marble tiles in the hallways. The guards draw the curtains away from the windows as Zira walks past, bowing shallowly.

Zira wants to scream.

Hide yourself away. You’ll hurt them if you stay close.

She scratches her nails down her forearm, finds a bit of comfort in the sting.

Walking to the kitchens takes longer than Zira thought it would. The route feels drawn out, with more corners to round and stairs to the basement, but eventually, her hands meet the worn wood of the kitchen doors and she pushes them aside.

Sam Yinlar, the royal cook, looks up and smiles at the sight of her, quickly retying the strings of his stained, white apron.

“It’s rather early,” Sam comments, quietly dismissing the other people working in the kitchen as Zira pushes herself up to sit on the farthest corner of the counters. “It’s been a while since you’ve visited me like this.”

Zira sighs, letting her head fall to her knees. “Hi, Sam.”

“Zira.”

She huffs, twitching her fingers and summoning a fork to her hand from right next to Sam. “If you’re not helpful, I’m going to leave.” She allows the ferrokinesis humming in her blood to sing, crushing the fork into a metal ball. “Better yet, I’m going to fire you.”

Sam isn’t phased, he continues cutting the vegetables on the cutting board in front of him, corner of his mouth tugged upwards with amusement. “With all due respect, Princess, you’ve been threatening me with that since you were seven. I’m going to call your bluff here.”

“Sam.”

“What’s bothering you, Zira?” Sam pushes, scooping the neat cubes of vegetables into a ceramic bowl. He gestures vaguely at her with the point of his cooking knife. “And don’t try to get around the question. I know your tricks.”

Zira pinches the metal ball, kneads it as if it was clay. “It’s Ivy,” she finally says, and winces because she knows how it sounds.

The royal cook freezes. He sets the knife down calmly and fixes Zira with a look so focused she wouldn’t dream of breaking eye contact. “Zira. Is everything okay? Is she hurting you?”

Zira wanted to scream, earlier. Now, her eyes water. Now, she wants to cry.

It takes a deep breath to keep the rivers of emotion at bay.

“No, Sam. It’s me.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “Elaborate. Now.”

“I think I’m hurting her,” Zira breathes, unable to help the way her eyes flick down to her hands, as if expecting to see scarlet pooling in the creases of her palms. “She’s too good for me, Sam. Everyone knows it.”

Flinching isn’t something Zira does much of anymore, but the sound of Sam stabbing his knife into the wood of his cutting board makes her tense too obviously to be missed.

“Zira Sevaan,” the man's voice rings, forceful as it bounces off the surfaces in the kitchen. “Look at me right now, and listen.”

She complies.

“Have you hurt her?” Sam asks and Zira frowns, irritation simmering in her gut at his stupid question.

“I just said-”

Sam sighs, yanking his cooking knife out of the cutting board and setting it down calmly once again. “I’m going to be blunt, Princess. Have you hurt her in the way your mother used to hurt you?”

Zira stills.

She swears a shadow shifts in the way it shouldn’t, but that’s just her memories playing tricks. They like creating little hallucinations to mess with me.

It takes work to make her vocal cords work to form the sounds of her answer. “No.”

An encouraging glint shines in Sam’s eyes. “Have you purposefully put her in situations where she could get hurt? Are you manipulating her?”

“She’s with me, Yinlar. I think that’s dangerous enough,” Zira shoots back bitterly. “You likely only know half of what I’ve done.”

Like always, Sam is patient, wise in his rebuttals. “I know you’ve killed people, I know you’ve done worse, and I know you’d do it again in a heartbeat if you had to.”

Again, Zira’s gaze flits down to her hands. Seeing tan, scarred flesh feels wrong. She almost craves the sticky sensation of blood seeping into every little line and crease in her skin, almost misses the sharp, unmistakable scent of it. 

“It’s like I told you. I’m going to ruin her. I’ve done awful things– for Delphine’s sake I practically killed her best friends! She deserves someone so much better than someone damaged and morally unsound.” Zira rips off her circlet and rakes an angry hand through her hair, grateful she didn’t bother to braid it before coming down to the kitchens.

“She still loves you and chooses to be with you?” Sam asks pointedly.

Zira nods, and it pains her. “That’s the probl–”

Sam Yinlar cuts her off. “You haven’t coerced or manipulated her into being your partner, correct?”

“No. Of course not.”

He smiles. “You have done awful things, yes? And you’d do them again?”

Zira hesitates before delivering the honest answer waiting on her tongue, if only because the pause has the potential to make her sound like a better person. “If the situation called for it.”

If she asked me to, goes unsaid. If someone threatened or hurt her.

Sam smiles wider, and Zira braces herself for the killing blow. 

The royal chef may not be a Mythica, may know nothing about what war feels like, but he beats Zira every time. He corrals her into a corner so she can’t escape with practiced deflection before forcing a mirror in front of her face and a basket full of truths into her arms.

“And no matter what, you’d never even think of harming Ivy?”

I’d rather die, Zira could say.

You’ve said that before, she knows Sam would retort calmly, so I don’t think that even begins to describe a fraction of your feelings towards this girl.

You’re right, Zira would admit.

She settles for a simple, “Never.”

Sam knows me well enough at this point to fill in the blanks.

The royal chef nods, as if Zira’s measly answers could solve her problem, the insecurity and guilt chewing at the worn threads of her being. “Then you have your answer, Princess. You aren’t hurting her, and you aren’t going to hurt her.”

Zira groans in annoyance, throwing her head back against the cabinets above her and relishing in the sound and spark of pain it produces. “You’re not getting it!”

Sam frowns. “Zira, you came to me with a concern, and I talked you through it. You said you thought you were hurting Ivy– that you didn’t deserve her, and I explained to you how that clearly isn’t the case.” He leans on the counter, weight on forearms. “What am I not getting?”

Zira wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Now, she does both.

The sob that rips its way out of her throat is painful, it sounds guttural, made worse by the way it echoes in the kitchen. Instinctively, she draws her knees to her chest, clawing at the skin of her upper arms as she wraps them around herself.

She buries her face in the little space her crossed arms create, letting her tears flow freely as her body trembles.

Sam is at Zira’s side in a heartbeat, standing in front of her and gently pulling her into his embrace. He drops his chin to rest atop her head, squeezing her body once to try and stop the shaking. “Hey. Kid. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Zira whimpers.

She feels pathetic, dirty.

She goes to claw at her skin again, but Sam stops her gently, just keeps hugging her until she eventually melts into the steady comfort of his hold. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it, Princess. Do you want to explain it to me?”

It takes a few seconds, far more than a few, but Zira eventually gathers herself enough to answer. 

“I don’t deserve someone as perfect as her,” she whispers, words muffled by the rough fabric of Sam’s apron. “She’s far too good to be with me, and I don’t deserve her.”

The admission leaves her feeling scrubbed raw.

Sam exhales deeply, a thumb rubbing twice at her shoulder when she trembles again. “Ivy’s hardly perfect. She’s hurt and killed people too.”

Zira frowns. “Don’t do that,” she orders firmly. “Don’t try and make her sound like a bad person just to make me feel better about what I’ve done.” She takes a calming breath. “I don’t deserve someone good.”

Sam squeezes her tighter, but Zira knows he’s wrestling with the idea of pushing apart to look her in the eye. “I don’t care what anyone else says, Zira Sevaan. You deserve every good thing that comes your way.” He taps a random pattern onto her shoulder. “No one is perfect. Everyone has done good and bad things. The mistakes you make don’t define you as a person.”

Zira pushes herself away, quickly drying her tears. “They weren’t mistakes, though, Sam. I made the conscious decision to murder and torture people.”

“You realize it’s wrong, though,” Sam tries.

“I’d do it again.” Zira is stubborn.

“Zira,” Sam tries again, firm. “You are not a bad person. You did bad things, but that doesn’t make you a pad person. You were hurt. You are still hurting. The bad things you did don’t cancel out your right to heal.”

“That’s not what my mother said,” Zira mumbles, ghosting a thumb over her forearms as if remembering how it felt to have bruises there. “That’s not what a lot of people say.”

Sam frowns. “Your mother was abusive and I don’t care what other people have to say. You deserve to be happy.”

Vulnerability is terrifying. Vulnerability flays Zira limb from limb, dissects her for Sam’s observant eyes to pick apart. This time, she doesn’t shy away. This time, she sticks it out and steeps in the discomfort.

“Feeling happy feels wrong, sometimes. It feels like I deserve that almost less than I deserve Ivy,” Zira confesses, falling into the embrace Sam offers again.

Sam just holds her, simple and meaningful in his display of affection and comfort. “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it: you deserve the good things that are happening to you, you deserve to have Ivy and all the happiness she brings you, and you are not a bad person.”

The tears start flowing again and Zira doesn’t bother stopping them. She lets them fall, lets Sam’s words soak into the hollow cracks that had formed over the years of her existence.

The two of them take solace in the silence.

“I’m a good person,” Zira tries out saying, just to hear the way it rolls off of her tongue. She whispers it like it’s a secret.

It feels almost instinctive, the way Sam’s hold on her tightens. “You are. You really are.”

Zira keeps going. “I deserve good things.”

“You do, Princess.”

“I deserve the happiness my partner makes me feel.” Her voice cracks and wavers. I deserve to wake up beside her every morning and brush her soft hair away from her pretty face just to kiss her on the nose. I deserve to be able to bicker with her about staying in bed or actually fulfilling our duties.

“I couldn’t have said it better, kiddo,” Sam whispers. “Now how about we make some plica for you to enjoy at breakfast with her?”

Zira smiles softly, drying the final tears from the corners of her eyes as the two of them step apart and she hops down from the counter. “I’d like that a lot. Thank you, Sam.”

Already walking away to grab ingredients from the cabinets, Sam smiles at her over his shoulder. “Go be helpful and grab some bowls for me.”

Anytime, Princess, goes unsaid.

— --

Zira takes a deep breath before pushing open the doors of the library with her foot, tray stacked high with plica in hand. The servants said she’d be here. I hope they’re right, she thinks as she balances the tray while slipping through the space in between the doors.

Sure enough, a head of familiar, red hair whips around at her entry.

Ivy’s face goes soft, eyes sparkling, and Zira feels her heart warm at the sight.

“Good morning, love,” Ivy says, beckoning her lover over. “You brought plica!” she exclaims happily, spotting the contents of the tray. “Is that what you were doing this morning?”

Walking over to set the tray of pastries down on the big table in the center of the table, Zira settles down on the couch right next to Ivy, settling against her side even as her gut swirls with guilt she tries to get rid of. “I thought I’d pay a visit to Sam,” she answers, shrugging in an attempt to seem casual.

An arm comes to rest around Zira’s shoulders, soft fingers brushing across the nape of her neck, and Zira’s heart jumps. “That early? You should have stayed in bed and visited him later,” Ivy admonishes fondly, thumb ghosting over the base of her lover’s skull

Zira’s breath catches in her throat and her heart skips too many beats.

You’re going to hurt her.

She flinches backwards hard enough that she tumbles off of the couch, knees and elbows making painful contact with the floor. The loss of Ivy’s warmth against her side makes her shiver, but the guilt woven into every fiber of her being keeps her from returning to the other’s embrace.

Hands still outstretched as if she had tried to keep Zira from falling, Ivy schools her face from shock and sadness to kind and contemplative. “Bad day?” she asks.

“Bad day,” Zira answers quietly.

They developed the system a bit ago, and it works better than Zira could have ever imagined. In the early days, Ivy would ask “Good day or bad day?” before even coming close to making contact, because some days, the very thought of being touched made Zira want to both stab someone and disappear.

Ivy nods and readjusts on the couch, crossing her legs and scooting over to only take up one half of the couch. “Good day,” she answers for herself. 

Take what you want, she means. Whenever you’re comfortable, I’m here.

Shame making her face warm, Zira rises from the floor and sits back on the couch, crowding herself as far into the corner as possible. 

Ivy points to her forehead, at the circlet resting against her skin. “You should take that off. Your skin’s going white.” Her eyes soften, voice too. “It’s hurting you.”

Zira’s heart aches and she reaches up to take the steel thing off, taking a deep breath and willing her ferrokinesis to mellow out. Immediately, a headache she didn’t realize was forming begins to subside. 

Reaching out slowly, giving Zira time to pull away if she wanted to, Ivy takes the circlet from Zira’s hands. “For now,” she says softly, “just be Zira for a bit. Forget the circlet and the title. I want to talk through this.”

The circlet transforms into a steel rose in Ivy’s hands.

Zira makes the flower float upwards with an almost missable twitch of her fingers, not looking away from the mesmerizing green of Ivy’s eyes. Just as slowly as the other did, she stretches out a hand, gently tucking Ivy’s red hair behind her ear. Zira grabs the floating rose out of the air and tucks it behind her lover’s ear as well.

“Thank you,” Ivy whispers, her breath ticking the skin of Zira’s palm as she leans into the lingering touch. “It’s beautiful.”

Zira smiles softly, ghosting the pad of her finger across Ivy’s cheekbone. “It’s not the only one,” she says, heart sparking at the sight of the blush beginning to color Ivy’s cheeks.

You can’t have this with her.

The princess’s face falls and her hand drops like a stone into her lap. 

Kindly, Ivy leans away, resting against the back of the couch once more. “I’m here,” she says simply. “I’m here if and when you need to talk, always.”

Zira feels the cracks forming, prepares to shatter and braces for the feeling of accidentally cutting herself on the shards of her being. She steels herself, draws upon familiar impassivity to keep from bursting into tears right there. 

“You’re so good,” she chokes out in a low whisper after a bit. “And you’re good to me.”

Ivy tilts her head to the side in confusion, not having heard her, silently gesturing to ask for an explanation.

Don’t tell her, Zira’s thoughts whisper, in a voice that sounds eerily like her mother did. She’ll realize the truth and leave. You’ll be alone.

“I don’t want us to be together,” she says, trying to sound firm. It comes out weakly, her voice wavering and betraying the uncertainty, guilt, and sadness she had been trying to hide. “We’re– we’re not a good match.”

She had kept an admirably even disposition throughout the entire interaction thus far, but Ivy flinches hard, arms instinctively drifting upwards to wrap around herself protectively. But she doesn’t whimper or cry, even though her eyes water. “Explain – now – because you’re not making any sense.”

See? You’re hurting her.

Zira wants to scream and cry and break herself to pieces so she can’t hurt this being of perfection before her. 

The princess cuts off her connection to metal, afraid of what could happen with her wild emotions and the metal resting so close to Ivy’s skin.

“Take the flower off,” she orders quietly, as if volume could soften the blow. “Please.”

Ivy frowns, a single tear falling from her eye. She wipes it away quickly, hand returning to rest on her opposite shoulder. “Why don’t you do it yourself?” she challenges, but it sounds weak too. “You’re more than capable of controlling metal.”

“Please,” Zira pleads again, panicking at the feeling of her ferrokinesis humming under her skin again. “I can’t. Take off the flower and set it on the table.”

“Next to the plica you made for someone you spent time making for someone you’re not a good match with?” Ivy shoots back, but she complies, setting it down next to the tray of pastries. “There, done. Now–” her voice cracks with emotion and another tear falls. She wipes it away just as swiftly. “Now,” she tries again, “explain, Zira.”

Look! See? She’s crying. You’re hurting her and keeping her close to you when all it’s doing is damaging her more, the ghost of Kamara’s abuse returns once more to say.

“Please go,” Zira asks, desperation bleeding through the syllables that fall past her lips. 

Ivy lets out a bitter laugh and the sound grates on her lover’s ears. “You’re not making any sense right now. You walked in this room with plica you made for both of us, gave me a pretty rose you made out of your royal circlet, and now you want me out of your sight.” Her bottom lip quivers, voice shaking. “Explain,” she begs.

With every second she spends near you, she only gets more hurt.

Zira forces iron-strong resolve into her voice, uses it to mask her breaking heart. Please, love, she pleads in her head, please go before I hurt you more.

“Go, Ivy.”

Zira almost flinches at how cold she sounds, hating how it sounds like her mother did.

Ivy stands up from the couch, expression unreadable. “I want an explanation soon,” she says, defeat weighing down every word. “I love you,” she says softly before turning on her heel and leaving.

The door slams shut behind her.

Zira takes one look at the steel flower and the tray of plica and bursts into tears. 

—

They avoid each other for the rest of the day. Zira hides away in her office, tending to her queenly duties. The title is still new and fresh, and she’s still drowning in work. The servants tell her that Ivy spent the day in town with her friends.

Night falls mercilessly and Zira falls asleep at her desk. 

She startles awake at the feeling of someone’s hand resting on her shoulder, papers fluttering sadly to the ground when they’re knocked off by her wild movements. 

“Easy, easy,” the voice soothes, and Zira recognizes it with a twist of her heart. “It’s late, Zira. You should come to bed.”

Still half asleep, Zira leans into Ivy’s touch. “Missed you,” she mumbles, voice muffled by her arm and slurred by sleep. “Missed you a lot,” she chokes out, groaning as she uses her aching muscles to sit up.

Ivy laughs lightly, and Zira doesn’t realize how forced it sounds. “I’m here now. You need to come to bed, or you’re going to hurt your neck.” She takes Zira’s hand, lacing their fingers together before tugging gently. “It’s a bad day, so I’ll sleep somewhere else.”

“No,” Zira says, and she feels her face burn in embarrassment when she realizes how quickly she responded. “I want— If you want, please stay with me.”

With a sardonic huff, Ivy’s hand falls away. “What I wouldn't have given to have heard that this morning.”

Now look at what you’ve done, child. Just as I predicted, you’ve caused her pain.

Zira’s blood goes cold at the reminder of their conversation that morning. She thinks back to the flinches and the fear, how volatile, dangerous, and guilty she’d felt. “I’m sorry,” she whispers after a moment. “I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

The words tip Ivy over the edge. “Too late, Zira,” she spits back. “You already did that.” She moves away, sitting down in a chair a few paces away from the desk, and Zira finds hope in the fact that she didn’t leave. “I think we’re both too tired to talk it out right now,” she admits.

Zira gets woken up completely by that, reaching out for Ivy instinctively. “No. I’m awake and I need to explain.” She turns in her chair to face Ivy completely. “And I need to apologize.”

Ivy nods. Go on, the gesture says.

“You are a good person– the best I’ve ever known,” Zira begins. “You deserve happiness, a perfect partner, and every other good thing that comes your way.” She takes another deep breath. “I am damaged. I am a bad person who’s done bad things and you shouldn’t settle for that. I don’t want you chained to someone unworthy.”

Zira’s skin crawls and her ferrokinesis begs to be used.

Ivy’s face shutters. “You’re not a bad person,” she says firmly. “And even if you were, that would change nothing.”

“It’d change everything,” Zira argues, frowning. “And if I am not a bad person, I’m a dangerous one. Death and tragedy follow me around like I have them on a leash, and we both know neither take well to being controlled.”

Vulnerability is a demon Zira hates facing. Ivy sees her attempts at loose avoidance and forces her towards the confrontation, somehow both unflinching and comforting.

“What are you so afraid of?” Ivy challenges.

“Myself,” Zira answers simply, watching as clarity and understanding flutter across her lover’s face. “I have damaged everyone and everything that has ever been in my life. I can’t do that to you.”

Ivy sees the twitching of Zira’s fingers and pulls her into a tight hug, one arm around her waist and another cradling the back of her head. “Cry if you want to,” she whispers, pressing a long kiss to her lover’s hair.

Zira breaks. “I can’t ruin you,” she admits into the warmth of Ivy’s neck and shoulder. “You’re so good – so perfect – and I’m afraid of ruining you because I’m too selfish to let you go.” She chokes on a sob, on the weight of keeping everything at bay.

The metal in the room cheers, screaming and begging for attention.

Immediately, Zira tears herself away from Ivy, scrambling backwards across the massive office to cower in the farthest corner. The breaths don’t come easy, getting caught in her throat. Her chest heaves as the tears turn messy.

Ivy gets up slowly. “Zi-”

“Don’t come near me!” Zira begs, crossing her arms in front of her chest and pinning her arms between her arms and torso. “Don’t come near me,” she repeats, quieter this time as she trembles.

It’s going to happen and you’re going to see. You’re going to lash out and you’ll ruin her and what you have together. Just like everything else, it’ll end with blood on your hands. 

“Take deep breaths,” Ivy soothes as she sits down on the floor too. She starts taking off all of her jewelry, setting it down in front of her. 

And Zira wants to cry, because Ivy understands, and feeling so seen is terrifying.

“Listen to my voice and take slow breaths. It’s going to be okay.” Ivy meets Zira’s eyes unflinchingly, somehow isn’t terrified by what she finds burning in her brown eyes. “You’re not going to hurt me because you’re not that person and you’re strong enough to hold back.”

Deep breaths, Zira tells herself. Focus on one bit of metal and make it your anchor.

She lets her ferrokinesis rip into Ivy’s necklace, uses the overflowing energy to take it apart and reassemble it in the air. The channeling works, slowly, and Zira starts to relax as her heart rate calms.

The metal chain links separate, a thousand little pieces suspended in the air.

Zira takes a deep breath, blinks, and it goes back together. She exhales, and commands the necklace to float back down onto the floor.

Ivy breaks the silence tentatively. “Zira? Good time or bad time?”

The princess looks up, drying her tears. “It’s fine,” she assures, voice scratchy with the remnants of her crying. “I’m okay now.”

As she crosses the room to sit right next to her lover in the corner, Ivy smiles. “See? I was right, love. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

“This time,” Zira retorts, tamping down the anxiety that prickles her skin at Ivy’s proximity. 

Ivy rolls her eyes. She takes Zira’s hand, grip loose enough to slip out of if she wanted. “Do you trust me?”

Zira answers immediately. “Yes. Of course.”

“Then trust my decisions,” Ivy says simply, holding Zira’s gaze unflinchingly. “Trust that I am happy with you and trust in my faith that you won’t hurt me.”

It takes a second, but Zira concedes. “Okay.”

Ivy allows herself to celebrate the small victory with a little smile, but she doesn’t stop pushing. “Trust that you’re not going to “ruin me”– whatever that means. No one can deny that you made mistakes, but you’re a good person and you deserve happiness.”

Zira opens and closes her mouth, not sure what to say.

Stifling a little laugh, Ivy leans forward, kissing her tenderly. “Don’t feel guilty, love. You’re allowed to want this and you’re allowed to have this. You’re not going to mess anything up.

The influx of emotion makes Zira’s eyes water again.

“I don’t know how–” she chokes on her own feelings. “I never want to lose you.”

“You don’t have to.”

It never works like that. We both know that and it’s stupid to pretend otherwise.

Zira hesitates, trying to make sense of the heat in her veins and the pounding of her heart. “I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” she admits quietly, and smiles at the way it makes Ivy’s face light up. “I think, someday, I could be good enough to deserve that.”

Ivy smiles, and Zira knows she’d give up everything to see that for the rest of her life.

“It’s late,” Ivy says softly, brushing her fingers through Zira’s soft hair. “Let’s go to bed.”

— --

Zira falls asleep feeling loved. Her eyelids flutter as they fight the weight of exhaustion and she struggles to stay awake, the repetitive motions of tracing little patterns on the bare skin of Ivy’s shoulder lulling her to sleep.

She brings her hand up to make constellations out of Ivy’s freckles, distracted for a second by the gentle curves in the waves of Ivy’s red hair. Zira brushes it away from her face with a feather-light touch, scared of waking her up.

The princess smiles, overcome by the comfortable warmth in her heart.

Moonlight streams through the gaps in the window curtains, swathing both of them in gentle silver. For the first time in a while, silver doesn’t feel threatening or cold.

Ivy looks peaceful, happy, at home in their bed. She looks perfect, beautiful, good. Even in sleep, the gentle embrace she holds Zira in is comforting. When she was still awake, she’d tighten her hold every few minutes, just to hear the other girl giggle softly with tired amusement. 

Right before she’d succumbed to her exhaustion, Zira brought them even closer to each other, intertwining their legs and lying close enough that their noses brush, comfortable with the proximity and touch.

At every point of contact, Zira feels her skin buzz pleasantly.

She takes a slow, tired blink, and smiles again. This is perfect, appreciate it, her mind whispers. You deserve it.

The stars sparkle overhead as she leans forward to kiss Ivy gently.

“I love you, Ivy,” she whispers against the soft skin of her lips. “I love knowing that for the rest of my life, I’ll have you by my side.”

Zira falls asleep feeling loved.

#ladywrenoftella #lady wren:: writing #writing #creative writing #my writing #writing wip #wren is writing #zivy

[dk-wren]

Thanks for answering my ask @dk-wren, can I ask again but this time for Loid/Yor?

What do you think are Loid and Yor’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

Hello Anon!

Of course! And thank you for the new ask!

(Note: I am so so sorry that I could not respond to your ask sooner. School has been crazy, so I barely had any time to write for non-school related projects. I feel so bad that I could not get to this quicker, but I hope you may still enjoy my response.)

Now, I would like to be upfront and say that my familiarity with Loid/Yor's relationship and all of Spy x Family is a little spotty. I am caught up on the anime and read the first several chapters of the manga. However, I only started consistently reading the manga about a year ago, towards the middle of the Red Circus arc. I generally know what happens between where S2 ended and I picked up the manga (i.e. Yor meets Melinda, Lady Tonitrus, etc.), but I apologize if in my explanation I missed an important moment that happens during that period or contradict something.

That said, I think Loid's greatest personality strength is his ability to fully commit to something. When I racked my brain for what Loid (and also Twilight) moments stood out to me, his line, “Let’s go home” from the first chapter, the castle party, his attempt to have fun during the Cruise Arc, creating a full (educational) episode of Bondman for Anya, and taking Anya on a ski trip are some moments that came to mind. Am I cherry-picking these examples? Yes, but I think each still illustrates how Loid cannot do anything with less than 100% effort.

Now, could you argue this personality trait of fully committing to something can be negative in some situations? For sure. But the way I see this trait present itself within Loid, it comes out of his desire to provide the best he can for his family. And while it was for his mission/cover towards the beginning of Spy x Family, and still sometimes the case, I think there’s been a shift where Loid's motivation for doing all that he can to provide Yor and Anya good/memorable experiences now comes from knowing Anya’s history in the orphanage and in Yor opening up to Loid about her past. 

I don’t know if Loid’s training or general nature are responsible for this trait, but I do believe Loid’s ability to fully commit to something is his greatest strength since it sort of acts as Loid’s way to show how much he cares for (perhaps, even loves) the recipients. 

In terms of Loid's greatest weakness, I think it is his stubbornness. Loid/Twilight knows he is Westalis' greatest spy. And whether self-imposed or from his colleagues' expectations (or perhaps even a little bit of both), he understands his performance during any mission should be of the highest caliber. In trying to maintain this level of proficiency on his missions, I feel Loid/Twilight can easily get into his own head about how things are supposed to go and needing to stick to a plan. 

Especially in the first few chapters/episodes, we see Loid clearly thrown off and flustered by some of Anya and Yor’s actions. When working solo, it is very easy for Loid to be in control over every aspect of a mission. Things can go exactly as planned for Loid, avoiding the need to deviate from his meticulous planning, even if he needs to switch to plan B, C, D, or E (probably more tbh). That is not the case though with Anya and Yor because of their own secret identities and human nature. These two bring in factors or variables that Twilight would not have to typically consider on his missions since they bring their own experiences/perspectives that do not align with Twilight’s view of “normal” or expected.

I know Loid saying “For the mission” is a running joke. But I believe Loid’s stubbornness plays a factor into this. Not necessarily in a bad sense, but Loid can get stuck in his ways and find explanations to justify his actions that do not align with those set ones. His stubbornness prevents Loid from admitting that he loves and cares for Anya and Yor because he is a spy, who should not have any attachments nor the expectation to settle down. He has changed from the first chapter to now. I apologize for not remembering the exact post, but when Loid returns home to Yor and immediately collapses at the end of the Mole Hunt arc, I saw someone beautifully explain how Loid’s reaction is due to his body telling him “He is safe. He is home. He is where his loved ones are,” even if his mind cannot process those feelings. 

In reading the chapters about Loid’s past, I would argue Loid also potentially deals with his own guilt about not deserving the love of others after what happened to his parents. That is a hard mindset to break, which I think his occupation doesn’t help in that healing process either. Therefore, between Loid’s own past and being a spy, I think Loid’s greatest weakness is his stubbornness, especially in his inability to process things (namely love) as anything but a means to an end, rather than the end itself.

As for Yor, I think her greatest personality strength is her kindness and faith in others. I feel Yor has so much love to give to the people she keeps close to her heart. But due to her past, she didn't have a chance to shower it on anyone besides Yuri. The cooking lessons she took with Camilla to literally running to pick up Anya after the bus hijacking, Yor’s family and their happiness/safety remains her utmost priority in providing. 

I truly believe Yor sees the best in people and wants to uplift that, whether that be celebrating how well Anya did on a test or telling Loid that he’s a good father. I don’t think it’s naivety but rather kindness that Yor embraces the world with. Similar to Loid/Twilight, Yor is trying to create a better tomorrow in her own way. However, one key difference I would say is that Yor sees herself as a part of that tomorrow. Such as in the Cruise arc, Yor recognizes the danger of profession and the fact she may not live to see the next day. But from what I’ve seen, Yor sees herself as working towards that better tomorrow so she can enjoy it with those she loves.

I think Yor’s greatest personality strength is her kindness and faith in others because she sees the best in those around her and wants to bring that out, or encourage people to embrace the good in them.

Regarding Yor’s greatest personality weakness, I think it's her social inexperience. I hesitate to call it a weakness since I think it’s more of a hindrance (and very much due to her upbringing). There are countless examples of Yor responding to someone’s question in a way that shows her misunderstanding of what the original question means (taking things too literally or giving a response appropriate for her assassin job but not in everyday life for example). It could easily paint her as awkward or clueless, but I think it just tells us about the environment she grew up in or is most familiar with.

When in her element, Yor embodies confidence and power. However, more often than not, that’s when she’s Thorn Princess rather than Yor Forger. Being the sole provider for Yuri for a good portion of her childhood and teen years, and also the nature of her profession, Yor is expected to complete things with utter perfection. She received training from the Garden, so that’s likely why she can perform with that confidence and grace as Thorn Princess. In not receiving that same level of “training” or exposure to everyday social situations, I think this causes Yor to second guess herself or fall susceptible to teasing in the workplace. 

Again, while I hesitate to consider it a weakness, I believe Yor’s social inexperience can sometimes hurt her more than help her. This is not a dig at Loid/Twilight, but I admire how Yor recognizes this “weakness” of how her knowledge may fall short in certain social scenarios. And to then take that time to learn about “normal” activities or experience something she was not able to during her childhood (as I mentioned above, cooking with Camilla comes to mind, but also befriending Melinda Desmond and spending time with the Women's Society), I think Yor openly embraces these opportunities in the hopes of learning from them and to increase her own happiness/enjoyment or those close to her.

Finally, for the last question, what do I love about Loid and Yor’s dynamic, I’d have to say I love how they uplift each other and acknowledge where the other can provide something they cannot (whether that’s with Anya’s care or household chores). Yor telling Loid he’s a great father to Anya and expressing her wish to help more around their household (to take some stress off of Loid); Loid telling Yor how her strength is an invaluable comfort to Anya, as well as affirming how her past makes her the perfect mother for Anya, and the way his body/subconscious mind acknowledges Yor as someone he feels safe around. At least to me, these examples alone show how much they respect their partner and understand that they can depend on the other. I'm sorry if I keep repeating myself, but seriously, to be able to trust and verbalize that they need help is such a step forward in moving past the behaviors they learned/developed during their childhoods.

While not tied exclusively to Loid and Yor’s relationship, but their family relationship, I also love how they somewhat represent different parenting styles. Loid is the more strict and demanding parent, though from what I recall, he rarely verbalizes his high expectations out loud (not that it always matters when Anya can read his thoughts). He expects Anya to do well and pass her classes, as well as avoid earning another Tonitrus bolt. Even then though, he phrases his words/expectations generally rather than telling her she must get this percent or higher. With Yor, she’s the more comforting and encouraging parent. She wants to see Anya succeed in school, but at the same time, Yor also prioritizes Anya’s well-being and happiness. I love how Loid and Yor’s parenting styles align with their personalities, and potentially the direct results of their childhoods. However, I love how at the end of the day, despite their varying approaches, Loid and Yor are both motivated by their desire to give Anya a happy childhood.

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Thank you again for the ask and your patience, Anon!

I had a lot of fun diving into the individual arcs of Loid and Yor (so far), as well as their relationship. I genuinely love these two so much and how slow burn this slow burn is. It really provides them the opportunity to develop as individuals and see how their interactions can or do affect the other.

-Dakota Wren

#asks #spy x family #loid forger #twilight #yor forger #thorn princess #twiyor

[ladyddanger]

omg lady hold my hand and give me strength i'm trying to write more of my fanfic and failing

Wren I’m having to rewrite my whole wip because it was trash hold my hand we can do this together

#lady answers #wren my beloved #lady writes

[feathersandblue]

Sometimes it feels like Paul was more quietly feminist than John, simply because women aren't just objects of desire for him, songs like "Eleanor Rigby", "Lady Madonna", "Blackbird", "Your Mother Should Know" and then later "Another Day" or "Jenny Wren" show how he relates to women, to their daily life, their struggles and also their wisdom. It's almost like he can do "granny music" because he doesn't feel the need to dismiss or disparage older women, just as he can write "Silly Love Songs" without any problem at all, even though love songs are "for girls". John later marketed his feminism, but it was always a little performative, whereas Paul, one song after another, made women visible as early as 1966, and, incidentally, not just the women he was fucking.

#Paul McCartney #John Lennon #Beatles

[spotofmummery]

Get to Know Me - Wren

I was tagged by: @hellinheelsxiv - thank you!

Last song: Between the Raindrops - I was coding my microblog and this happened to be a video on one of the pages, so I dropped it on repeat for a while. Oops. It's now on repeat again while I write this.

Currently reading: (Embarrassed but) - The Black Stallion. It was a childhood favorite for me. I happened to recently get a book/model set of The Black Stallion, so I sat down with the book to see how much I remembered and if it was as good as my kid-self thought.

Currently watching: I haven't been watching much in terms of net series lately (though I need to - I have a huge Netflix backlog). I have been engrossed in binging Mr. Ballen videos, however, while coding my website. I guess that counts?

Current obsession: Breyer horse collecting. ╰(*°▽°*)╯ Oh, and the new Horse Ranch Sims 4 expansion. Yes, the author is a horse gal who has never owned a horse.

Tagging: @pinxli @lady-lissette @mimble-sparklepudding @jasleh @dennydraws @kepesktribe ...and anyone else who wants to try it!

#About the author #OOC #Meme

[veneritia]

WTW CHARACTER WEEK | WILDCARD

Meidther, one of the members of the Trinity of High Gods, is the patron god of creation, life, fertility, and motherhood; the eldest of the Trinity of High Gods, born from the birth of a star. Etymologically, her names comes from the old Aelin word "meidir" meaning mother.

Here, we introduce the three most important mothers in WCTD, whose presence--or absence--had major effects on their children and the world around them.

PRESENTING... the late Astaria vi Aetier, once-imperessa of Aetier, half-sister to the Vasilier Dantalion, mother to Aretos

The third child of Karleon III with consort Silvia. The blood-sibling of Aretos vi Aetier. She was Dantalion’s main contender for the crown, with their feud lasting six years as she fought for her crown and revenge for her family. She died at the Siege of Konstantinye, marking the end of the King’s Game. Astaria only had one child--named Aretos, after her twin brother-- though it is rumored to have died during the Siege.

PRESENTING... Her Grace the lady Illysandre vi Soresi, conosrt prima to the Vasilier Dantalion and mother of the first prince, Charles vi Aetier.

The eldest daughter of House Soresi, one of the most noble families in Aetier. Intelligent, witty, and charming, she sits at the center of high society as its leading lady and is more often than not content to enjoy the idyllic life her station affords her. While her marriage to Dantalion was all politics and duty, her love and fierce protectiveness over her son Charles is unparalleled. To ensure his survival (and consequently her own), she will use whatever means at her disposal to advance his position.

PRESENTING... Her Imperial Majesty the late Vasili Titania of Taul, first wife of the Vasilier Dantalion and mother of the first princess, Fenice vi Aetier.

She's known by many names; Areia-blessed, Witch, Kingmaker, Scourge of Men. She is the nightmare of an entire generation of soldiers who have fought against her, and war hero to a nation that still only see her as other. Titania of Taul is the daughter to Eliskander, the formidable leader of the Iskaavar tribe that roam the Taulan plains. A position she was once set to inherit before she forsook it in the name of love. It is said that without her, Dantalion would have never won his crown. She died in the final battle of the Hes-Aei war after single-handedly defeating scores of soldiers. It was said she died standing up. Not even death could force her to kneel.

TAGLIST | (ask to be +/-)

GENERAL → @charlesjosephwrites | @bearunicorn154 | @seasteading| @writting-in-blood | @trapped-inadystopianovel | @inky-duchess | @thats-my-type-writer | @serpentarii | @myhusbandsasemni | @aphaimaniis | @writinglyra | @belialwrites | @amoranza | @pseudepigraphic | @mel-writes-with-her-dragons | @uppoffringar| @fantasydisease| @sourrcandy

WCTD → @zmlorenz | @andiwriteunderthemoon | @ryns-ramblings| @marchdove | @cielnocturnes | @wren-is-writing | @lord-fallen | @tragicbackstoryenjoyer | @bloomingwrites

#wtwevent #wtwcommunity #writeblr #series.wctd #collection.events #collection.my projects