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regrettablewritings · 3 years

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Cobb Vanth x Reader Ship Meme

Select prompts taken from this ship meme

Who is a morning person?: Cobb is, though it’s questionable if that’s by nature or a lack of nurture. As much as he’d prefer to not dwell on it, his past as a slave has left its marks in many more ways than what he can think of -- and it’s always popping up in the most surprising (and annoying) fashions. By the time he’d reached adulthood, waking up at the crack of dawn had been grilled into his circadian rhythm much the same way data is processed into a droid. And even long after his peoples’ liberation, the charge of waking up before either of Tatooine’s suns could breach the horizon compelled him. And for years, it plagued him. It wasn’t that he was necessarily incapable of sleeping in, either -- he could do it if the previous day’s events tuckered him out enough. But sometimes, even just the seconds of consciousness, greeted by a dawn sky, would be enough to make him sigh morosely. He was blessed to have even woken up this many days, he knew. But some part of him couldn’t help but wonder in just how many ways his past could still reach him. It took some time, but eventually there was a change in that thought process. Not necessarily because Cobb began to wake up early less and less but because even when he did, the thoughts often didn’t get a chance to wander as far. After all, now he had you. You, of course, would still be asleep (as anyone at this time ought to have been) and therefore couldn’t offer him so much as a delirious conversation or two. But you did offer him a distraction. And a reminder: Even as you lay there, gently breathing, chasing whatever dreams you’d wound up in, you were reminding Cobb that even though his past still had him in some ways, his present and hopefully his far future had you. And so long as he had those to think about, he could bare to cherish waking up just a little bit more. After all, it gave him time to think about you, and that was some mighty fine fuel for some sweet dreams . . .

Who is the big spoon and who is the little spoon?: Being the protective sort he is, Cobb tends to veer more towards being the big spoon himself. He’s not against being the little spoon -- lord knows he enjoys that sort of comfort whenever he’s had a particularly rough day -- but it’s because he’s aware of the sort of power being a big spoon can hold that he more often than not takes it upon himself to be one. He’s witnessed so much loss and danger in his lifetime and even though things have surely changed for the better in more recent times, he still can’t help but be a little on edge. He doesn’t want you to get hurt or be lost; as the marshal of Mos Pelgo, it’s his job to keep you safe. And as your significant other, its his honor to be able to do so even in the form of simply hugging you from behind as the two of you drift off to sleep.

What is their favorite sleeping position?: As a whole, Cobb is content with just about any position he can get into where at least some part of him is in contact with you. But if he needs to narrow it down to a favorite, it would have to be one where he both asserts his dominance as a protective figure while also making you feel comfortable. The most recurring one, however, is when he gets to lay on his back while draping an arm about your waist, your head laying against his bare chest as you listen to his heart beating. It makes Cobb feel big and strong, and even though it also may leave him with a case of dead arm, he also knows that it helps you feel safe and warm.

Who steals all the blankets?: Being located on a desert planet, the nights on Mos Pelgo can get mighty chilly. Having grown up there all his life (and just naturally running hot), Cobb is quite used to it. You, on the other hand, never quite got accustomed to the occasional soft breeze that might whisper into your little abode. As a result, it’s not uncommon for Cobb to wake up in the middle of the night to find only small corners of the blanket covering himself with the rest of it cocooning around your unconscious form. He’s more than happy to remedy that with some good old-fashioned body heat, however, once he gingerly unravels you.

What they wear to bed: You thought he might’ve been trying to tease you when the first night you shared a bed had you seeing him stroll into the bedroom, donning only sleeping pants. While you certainly didn’t mind the view of his chest, you thought he was being a bit too cocky: Surely he already knew you adored him, there was just no need for him to try and further seal the deal by using his good looks. The fact of the matter was actually no, he really did naturally sleep without a shirt. The heat of the hut was more than enough to keep him warm in his humble opinion, and frankly he’d survived on less. Though, he’s certainly not above using his looks to sway you when it comes to the bedroom . . .

Who likes seeing the other in their shirt?: While he wouldn’t mind it if you joined him in being shirtless, it also drives Cobb insane in the best way when you enter the bedroom sporting one of his shirts. It's strange how something so simple could instill feelings so intense in a man, but he just can’t help it. It’s almost primal in a way, seeing you quietly marked as his and his alone, the way your body is essentially wrapped up in him without him even touching you. At the end of the night, you’ll smell like him, and his shirt will smell like you . . . (The shirt might also be off of you at the end of the night depending on how good he is at controlling himself but that’s a matter for another discussion.)

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares?: Over the years, Cobb has experienced fewer and fewer nightmares. But that doesn’t mean they don’t lurk in his psyche, rearing their ugly heads from time to time. Malformed versions of memories of his past, of traumas he thought he’d forgotten, of fears that thankfully didn’t get a chance to manifest but now lay in eternal incubation inside of his own mind . . . Of course he hates when these things happen -- nobody would like it, after all. Nightmares weren’t meant to be liked. But pouring more salt into the wound whenever he gasped himself awake, his body flinging itself upright into the night air before fully gaining consciousness, would be the impact it left you with. Of course, it was silly of him to be concerned with that (he was the one suffering after all), but he hated the look on your face whenever those moments occurred: You’d be so scared, of course. But then the fear would turn into worry. And sadness. You never had to ask him what was wrong, you already knew. You always knew. And he was thankful that you never pressed it, and that you also knew that the best way to console him was to coax him back into bed (and never let him argue otherwise; threaten to knock his block off if you have to) and to lie there in the quiet, the only sounds being your gentle humming of some distant tune and the sound of your fingers carding through his silvering hair. There was no shame in having fear; Cobb knew that. But that still didn’t change the fact that he felt some shame in still feeling it. He wanted to be the man the town could count on, the man you could count on. Logically there was nothing that said he couldn’t still be even with the occasional nightmare, but that didn’t stop the thoughts and worries from invading his already fragile mind -- “G’night, m’marshal...” you’d slur, your movements becoming sluggish as sleep began to take a hold of you once more. It’s quiet, groggy, and yet strong enough to break both the silence and your partner’s spiraling. It almost makes him want to laugh: That you’re so tired that you’re oblivious to just how much power you have when it comes to bringing him peace. Just one of the many ways you make falling asleep so much easier for him than it ever has been . . .

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep?: Oddly enough, in spite of everything, Cobb isn’t particularly active in his sleep. Mos Pelgo isn’t necessarily what one may call a hub of activity -- so he honestly has no idea where you’re getting all these punches and kicks from. At first, he thought it was cute to wake up to you wriggling around in your sleep. You always insisted after the fact that you weren’t having a nightmare, you’d just always been an active sleeper. But he just isn’t sure what kind of dreams you must be having where the situation isn’t terrible enough to frighten you, but enough to cause you to make a mean left hook where his kidney should be. On the one hand, he’s rather proud that you have that kind of strength going for you. But on the other, some days he heads to the tavern, hissing when whatever part you hit aches, and he has to lie to his buddies and play along like you both had a particularly kinky night together. That, and some part of him is convinced that eventually you’ll work your way up into snapping his neck in your sleep.

Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?: Neither of you can, but Cobb is especially guilty of it. While he’s not exactly touch-starved, he simply can’t help but have some part of himself touching you when the both of you go to sleep. It reminds him that you’re there, that he’s not alone, and it reminds you that he’s there and that you are therefore protected. So even if you two don’t wind up in your favorite position or spooning or what have you, one thing is for certain: There’s a good chance that when you wake up, you’ll at least be doing so to find his hand entwined with your own, or his leg between yours. Or his hand resting on your chest (which he will insist happened in his sleep but you dunno, his hand palm seemed to rest a little too cup-like on the swell of your breast).

#cobb vanth x reader #cobb vanth #cobb vanth imagine #cobb vanth imagines #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagines #regrettablewritings #i wanna write for this goon eventually but guh he stumped me when it wasn't about kinda tragic stuff #what does this say about me????

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tessaliagrey · 3 years

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Day 7 - Free Day

Summary: A family visit.

Author’s notes:

Okay, you guys (may) know I’m a sucker for BoFenn. I mean, yeah, I know, we see them together in only two episodes of Rebels, but I mean, come on! They just have that “I made heart eyes at her/ at him when I was younger” dynamic. To me, it feels like they have met before, most likely during the Mandalorian Civil War when they were much younger and maybe again during Bo’s regency. The fighting scenes in those episodes look like they have fought side by side before. And the way they talk together about Sabine; they are no strangers. Face it, they have potential ;-P

I like the fact that in order to save Satine, Korkie teams up with Bo-Katan. It’s like “Let’s break Auntie Satine out of prison – again – but this time, we’re gonna bring guns”. To me, Korkie feels like someone who knows that violence is always the worst answer and who will always try to find a better solution to a problem. But he’s no one to just sit there and watch things go overboard. He will take action if needed. I like the idea that he is kind of a middle ground between Satine and Bo-Katan.

This is written from Fenn’s POV.

I wrote this in one sitting tonight because I didn’t have anything for today until today, so be merciful with your judgement 🥰

Tagging: @bokatanweek

This is quite long, so maybe its more confortable to read it on AO 3.

07 - Free Day

It wasn’t the first time that Fenn had been to Evaar’la Yaim, the colony of the New Mandalorian exiles. The place at the edge of the galaxy that Bo-Katan and Korkie had picked to hide the survivors of Maul’s and Death Watch’s coup on Mandalore and the subsequent rise of the Galactic Empire almost twenty years ago. Evaar’la Yaim was one of the best guarded secrets in the galaxy. A safe haven for those Maul and the Empire would rather see dead.

Bo-Katan had deemed it sensible after being made Mand’alor, that, as leader of the Protectors, Fenn should know about this place. Just in case.

This time, it wasn’t a visit out of necessity, but for joyful reasons. Korkie’s wife had given birth to their fifth child a few weeks ago, and now Bo-Katan had finally found the time for a short visit. Two nights was all they could spare; Mandalore demanded Bo-Katan’s full attention.

Fenn walked out of their ship and onto the grass-covered clearing they had landed in. He had taken his armor off and just wore some gray pants and a black shirt. Though Korkie seemed to have no problem with his aunt being a warrior and wearing armor, others on this planet would always frown upon it. Korkie and Bo-Katan had deemed it sensible that for the durations of her short visits, she’d forgo the armor. And since he accompanied her, Fenn followed suit.

The planet Bo-Katan and Korkie had picked was a mixture of everything. Woods, lakes, mountains, plains,… You name it. It must have been inhabited at one point by others; ruins of a different civilization dotted the planet’s surface all over the northern hemisphere. The people, however, must have been long gone.

The Mandalorians in exile had taken the ruins of the larger settlements and used them as a base for their own permanent settlements. Bo-Katan had explained to Fenn that in the beginning, all it was were tents and mobile command units. There was nothing else left. The rebuilding of the ruined settlements had taken time, but by now, they were viable towns, if not small cities. The planet had gone from dependent on supplies from outside to self-sustaining within just over a decade.

As Fenn walked out into the clearing, he saw that Bo-Katan was already waiting for him. Fenn had seen her out of armor more than once. Mostly in training gear when they sparred. But now and then… He was her Protector – the only Protector, for now – and as that, he was around her almost all the time. He’d had to go and wake her up on more than one occasion, and he was one of the very few who knew what clothes the Mand’alor slept in. Or how she looked with tousled hair. Or how beautiful her face was when she slept soundly.

Fenn sighed and reminded himself that he shouldn’t be having thoughts like that about his ruler. But he just couldn’t help it. Even now, with her wearing just standard black pants and a black tunic, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

At first, Fenn had thought it was just a crush. That she was ‘just his type’. But the better he got to know her, the more he fell for her. Now, a year later, he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t a crush. It was love. But still, she was the ruler, and he was her Protector. And that was all they could be.

###

They walked the short distance from the woods to the small city mostly in silence, enjoying the warm sun on their faces, the fragrant air blowing in a gentle breeze and the sound of small animals hidden in the undergrowth. This world was so different from the dust ball they called home.

After a few minutes, they came across one of the main roads and took it to get to the city’s main gate.

Other people were on the road, too. Some on foot like them, others in speeders or on speeder bikes. Someone was pulling a large, fruit-laden cart tied behind one of the domesticated larger local animals. Some people threw them sideway glances, others even ogled them openly. But most people just ignored them. And some very few even nodded their heads or smiled.

The first time Fenn had been here, Bo-Katan had warned him about all the different kinds of reactions her visits got. But that, given that she was partially responsible for Satine’s death, being largely ignored was probably the best she could hope for.

When they were finally in view of the main gate, Fenn heard a high-pitched squeal and saw a young girl break into a run in their direction.

“Aunt Bo!”, the girl yelled, making everybody around them watch and shake their heads.

Fenn was pretty sure the girl didn’t even notice. She didn’t even slow down much when she reached them, but threw herself into her great-aunt’s arms.

“Hey, Ca’tra,” Bo-Katan managed to say, despite her breath being knocked out of her. Fenn had to chuckle.

“I saw your ship!”, the girl explained excitedly. “Buir said I could go and pick you up at the gate.”

“Thank you, ad’ika,” Bo-Katan said smiling, detangling herself from her grandniece. She pointed at Fenn. “Do you remember Fenn?”

“Sure,” the girl said with a broad grin, waving.

“My lady,” Fenn said and bowed slightly, only to watch the girl role her eyes. He grinned.

The girl, Ca’tra, took Bo-Katan’s hand and started to pull her towards the city.

“Come on,” she said impatiently. “Dinner’s almost ready. And Ka’ra is like having a growth spurt, so if we’re not home on time, she’ll have eaten it all.”

And so, Bo-Katan let herself be pulled through the city gates by an eight-year-old, a big grin plastered on her face. Fenn followed smiling.

###

Like the first time he had been here about a year ago, Fenn marveled at the city the exiles had built. Or re-built, in a way. Everywhere, the old structures could still be seen. It was a symbiosis of old and new. Some houses had the ground floor made of the yellowish stones that all ruins here seemed to be made of, while the top floor was all dura- and transparisteel. Classical Mandalorian architecture, intertwined with the remnants of a lost civilization.

The city itself was positioned on top of a hill, and the three of them had to walk uphill to get closer to the city’s center. Bo-Katan and Ca’tra made easy conversation.

“How is everybody else?”, Bo-Katan wanted to know.

“Well, Elyria has been taking flying lessons, and I think she’s kind of good at it. Evy is kind of annoying right now. She’s like super giggly and she starts to think boys are cute.” The girl shook herself, like she couldn’t fathom how that could possibly be. Fenn raised his eyebrows, Bo-Katan snorted.

“And as I said, Ka’ra is having a growth spurt. I mean…How much food can possibly fit into a five-year-old? Apart from that, she’s as annoying as ever.”

“And your parents?” Fenn inquired.

“Tired,” Ca’tra said, grinning. “But that’s all Ijaat’s fault. She cries a lot.”

“She’s just a few weeks old,” Bo-Katan tries to reason.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Ca’tra answers with a sigh, and Bo-Katan affectionately ruffled the girl’s hair.

Fenn realized suddenly that the girls name, Ca’tra – Night Sky – was very apt. The girl had the pale Kryze skin, but dark brown hair and rosy cheeks like her mother. Her eyes were a deep blue, just like the night sky.

About halfway up the main street, they turned right, and the girl guided them through several smaller streets and alleys, before she stopped at a door that could have been any door in the city.

“Home sweet home,” Ca’tra said and punched in the key code that opened the door.

As the door slid open, the noise of several people talking all at once suddenly flooded out into the street.

“We’re here!” Ca’tra yelled into the hall. “Tell me you haven’t started dinner yet!”

Two other girls suddenly appeared. One about fifteen; tall, and with red-blonde hair and green eyes, she looked much like Bo-Katan, though her face looked more like her mother’s.

“Aunt Bo!” she said and embraced her aunt, though much gentler than her younger sister had.

“Hey, Elyria, how are you?” Bo-Katan asked, hugging her back in return.

“Good. There is-“

“Move over, I wanna say hello, too,” the other girl said, tugging at her older sister’s clothes.

Elyria let go and let her younger sister throw her arms around Bo-Katan’s middle. Apart from the blue eyes, this one – Ka’ra, Fenn remembered – looked like a miniature version of Bo-Katan. The same face, the same flaming red hair. Even the same freckles. Just the eyes were the pale bluish-gray eyes of her father.

“Come on,” Ka’ra said, tugging at Bo-Katan’s hand. “I’m starving.”

“So we heard,” Bo-Katan answered grinning.

The rest of the family was inside the large living area. Fenn liked the Kryze’s house. It felt…yaim’la. It was a place so full of life. A bit chaotic, a bit loud, and lots of love.

“Aunt Bo!” Korkie Kryze exclaimed as he walked over to hug is aunt.

In Fenn’s memory, Korkie Kryze was a lanky fourteen-year-old with a talent to attract trouble. And though he had seen the boy – no, the man – only a year ago, Fenn still hat trouble to reconcile the adult in front of him with his mental picture. Korkie Kryze was just a tat taller than his aunt, his hair blonde, and his eyes bright blue. And one point, he had grown a well-kept, close-cropped beard.

The biggest shock, however, was seeing Korkie’s second daughter. Evy Kryze was the spitting image of Duchess Satine in her early teens. The twelve-year-old just waved over from the table she helped setting.

Korkie’s wife was walking up and down in front a large window front, gently rocking a small infant in her arms. She smiled at them and came over.

“Sorry for the chaos,” she said, gesturing at the general surroundings. “You’d think that by kid number five, we’d get the hang of it…”

Bo-Katan waved her off. “Who cares?” she answered.

Before they got any further, Ka’ra yelled across the room. “Can we eat now?”

###

Dinner had been a joyful and delicious affair, and Fenn felt stuffed and content. He was now sitting on one of the comfortable couches next to Bo-Katan and had to take care not to doze off.

It would be all too easy. He was sitting on one of the sides, being pushed into the downy cushions. Bo-Katan was right next to him, being pushed into his side by Ca’tra, who was leaning into her. All Fenn would need to do was rest his head at the back of the couch and close his eyes.

It was slowly growing dark outside, and the younger children were yawning now and again, though they tried to hide it.

“All right, girls,” Korkie eventually said. “Time for bed.”

He was met with loud wailing from his daughters, but in the end, he managed to usher them all upstairs.

Bo-Katan now had a lot more room on the couch, but to Fenn’s great surprise, she didn’t really move. Korkie’s wife flopped down on next to them, the baby asleep in her arms.

“I though Ca’tra might have exaggerated when she said how much Ka’ra is eating right now,” Bo-Katan began. “But dang…that girl really is on a growth spurt, huh?”

“Oh, and you haven’t even seen the worst of it,” Soniee replied. “It’s moments like that I’m glad we don’t have any boys. I remember how Korkie and Amis used to eat at fourteen… Nothing was safe from them.”

“I bet,” Fenn answered, and the women chuckled.

“You were like that, too?” Soniee asked, looking at Fenn.

“You bet I was.”

Before their conversation could get anywhere near other topics, the noise level upstairs escalated again.

“Mom!” yelled one of the girls. “Can you come up?”

Soniee sighed.

“Here, can you take Ijaat for a second?” she asked Bo-Katan. “I’ll be right back.”

“Uhm, sure,” Bo-Katan answered, but Fenn thought he detected a hint of panic in her voice.

Soniee placed the infant in Bo-Katan’s arms and headed up the stairs.

Next to him, Fenn could feel Bo-Katan let out a long, low breath.

“You alright?” Fenn asked quietly.

“I’m always afraid I’ll break them,” Bo-Katan answered, an apologetic smile on her face. “I mean sure, I carried Korkie around as a baby, but that’s like almost forty years ago now. And Ursa used to shove baby Sabine into my arms on occasion. But it’s not like I got any real practice or experience.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Fenn answered. And he did. Both of them had no children of their own. And though Fenn knew that neither of them actively regretted not having children, it were moments like this that still made you think of the what ifs.

Fenn leaned in closer to get a better look at the small child. She looked so peaceful in her sleep.

“She’s a lucky girl,” Fenn says, though why he says it out loud, he doesn’t know.

“She is, isn’t she,” Bo-Katan agrees. Then she sighs. “I don’t think I could live here all the time,” she continues. “But it’s good to be here now and again. With family.”

Fenn nods. Family. His family used to be the Protectors on Concord Dawn. But now his family was gone.

Before Fenn could get melancholy, the child moved in Bo-Katan’s arms, giving off small noises.

“What do I do now?” Bo-Katan whispered.

“I have no idea,” Fenn whispered back, and they both quietly chuckled.

###

Fenn couldn’t sleep. He tried; he really did. But every time he closed his eyes, he could see his fellow Protectors being slaughtered by Saxon and his men.

So, he had gotten up as quietly as possible and was looking out of the window of the Kryze’s guest room.

The last time he and Bo-Katan had been here, they had separate rooms. But with the addition of Ijaat, only one guest room was left and he and Bo-Katan had to share. Not that Fenn minded. But he didn’t want to wake her, so he tried to pass the time by looking at the foreign sky.

But Fenn heard the rustling of sheets behind him and turned around. Bo-Katan was pushed up on one elbow, looking at him.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

Fenn shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” she assured him. “I…have trouble sleeping through some nights myself.”

Fenn nodded. He understood.

With no more need to be overly quiet, he went back to his bed and sat down at the edge of it.

“What do you dream of?” Bo-Katan asked him, sitting up herself.

“Concord Dawn,” Fenn answered.

Bo nodded. She didn’t really need any further explanation.

“And you?” he asked in return, though he wasn’t sure if she would answer.

“Satine.”

To Fenn’s great surprise, Bo-Katan got up and walked over to him, sitting back down right next to him on his bed.

“Do you think we’ll ever be free of our ghosts?” she asked, looking down at her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know,” Fenn answered honestly. “On the one hand, I wish they wouldn’t haunt me. But on the other, I don’t want to forget.”

Bo-Katan nods, and, to Fenn’s even greater surprise, she carefully leans her head against his shoulder.

###

The next day passes in a kind of blur. Maybe because all Fenn could think about was Bo-Katan’s head on his shoulder, and how, eventually, her fingers had laced with his. Fenn knew it had been for comfort, but poor mind had a hard time to leave it at that.

And even worse – or best of it all, depending how you looked at it – was that fact that at one point, they must have fallen asleep. In the same bed. Because when they’d woke up this morning, they had done so next to each other. They weren’t cuddled up, exactly. But still.

It was probably a good think it wasn’t a workday on this planet, as it meant that all the Kryzes were home and kept Fenn and Bo-Katan very much occupied.

As Ca’tra had already told them yesterday, Elyria had been taking flying lessons, and Bo-Katan had told her over breakfast that Fenn was – and those were her words – an extraordinary pilot. Fenn had felt himself blush like a schoolgirl. After that Elyria had talked him into letting her fly Bo-Katan’s kom’rk (with Bo-Katan’s permission, of course). And Fenn had to admit that girl had talent.

When they were done, the girl had headed off into town to meet friends, and Fenn had returned to the house. When he got back, only Korkie was home, carrying little Ijaat around.

“Where is everybody?” Fenn wondered.

“Grocery shopping,” Korkie answered. “How was flying.”

“Elyira is very talented,” Fenn answered. “It comes to her very naturally.”

Korkie nodded, a proud look on his face. But Fenn thought he also detected a hint of worry.

“Something on your mind?” Fenn asked, deciding that in his experience with Kryze’s, it sometimes paid off to be blunt.

Korkie grimaced.

“You know,” he began, “it’s easy for us grown-ups. We chose to live here. We chose to hide from the rest of the galaxy. The generation of our children, however, did not. They know there is a whole wide world out there. And eventually, they will want to see more of the galaxy than Evaar’la Yaim, beautiful as it may be.”

Fenn nodded. Then he had to grin.

“Five more Kryze women running around the galaxy…”

“Oh stars,” Korkie groaned, but then laughed.

###

Fenn felt almost a little wistful that their time on Evaar’la Yaim was coming to an end. They would be leaving tomorrow morning after breakfast.

Tonight, there was a small festival all around the central town square, and the girls had talked everyone into going. Bo-Katan had objected that a lot of people might not feel comfortable with her being there, but the girls had just told her that other people were free to go home if it bothered them.

Fenn was glad they had gone. It was a beautiful summer evening; warm, with a soft breeze. And the town square looked amazing. Lights were strung up around and above it, and groups of chairs and tables were placed everywhere. Street vendors were selling food and drink. Music was playing and people were dancing in the square below the lights.

The girls were running around here and there, talking to friends, but regularly coming back to their table to spend time with their great-aunt. Who knew when they would see each other the next time?

The adults had gone from water to wine and from dinner to desert. Fenn watched Bo-Katan try some uj cake. She took a bite and closed her eyes.

“Oh stars,” she muttered with a full mouth. “This is so good.”

Korkie snorted. “Of course, it is. This may not be Mandalore, but we are Mandalorians. Of course, we know how to make damn good uj cake.”

“Stars, Fenn, you gotta try this,” Bo-Katan said, and pushed her plate toward him.

Fenn obligingly broke off a piece and put it in his mouth. Dang, it was good.

The evening passed into night and if it were for Fenn, it might never end. Bo-Katan was sitting close to him, and at some point, she had put her head on his shoulder again. Fenn wasn’t even sure if she had noticed. He didn’t mind. Everybody else at the table had most definitely noticed but had the good sense not to say anything.

But it was getting late, and Ka’ra and Ca’tra had a hard time keeping their eyes open, and so they eventually headed back to the house.

###

Back in their guestroom, Bo-Katan leaned against the door of the ‘fresher and Fenn had a hard time keeping his eyes off her. She was wearing what she always wore at night. Comfortable pants and a tank top. But stars, she looked good in that.

Fenn cleared his throat. “I think your worries about other people’s reactions tonight were mostly unfounded,” he said.

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow, but then smiled. “Yeah, I think after twenty years they trust me enough to not ruing their evening by blowing the place up.”

“Imagine how it’ll be in another twenty years.”

Bo-Katan grinned. “In twenty years, I might even dance and nobody will take any special notice of it.”

“Don’t you always say that you don’t dance?” Fenn wonders.

“True,” she admits. “But I will make an exception in twenty years jus to see their faces.”

Fenn snorted. “Maybe you should practice before that.”

“Ey, I said I don’t dance, not that I can’t dance,” Bo-Katan said. “I was raised at court.”

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the uj cake, and maybe it was the lingering feeling of Bo-Katan’s head against his shoulder that inspired Fenn to make a bold move. He got up and held his hand out.

“Prove it,” he said.

“What?”

“That you can dance. Prove it. Take my hand and dance with me.”

For a fleeting second, Bo-Katan looked surprised. But then, she pushed herself off the doorframe, and walked over to Fenn.

“One dance, Protector,” she said.

“Yes, my lady.”

And then, she was in his arms, so damnably close that her scent filled his nose, and he felt the heat of her body radiate outward.

People never believed Fenn could dance, but his mother thought it important that he learned how to. And if it was just for this moment, where he danced with his Mand’alor in her nephew’s guest room. Danced with the woman he loved as moonlight filtered through the windows.

Fenn had no idea how long they danced. All he knew was that they moved closer and closer together until her body was flush against his and her head pillowed against his chest. Fenn was certain she could hear his heart hammering in his chest, pounding wildly against his ribs.

At one point, they stopped moving and Bo-Katan looked up at him. Stars, she was beautiful Her green eyes, her freckles, her lips. Damn, those lips. Fenn’s eyes lingered on them, watched how they parted and breathed out his name, and Fenn’s brain short-circuited. He leaned in and kissed her.

And to his great surprise – and great relief – she kissed him back.

#bo katan week #bkw 2021 #Bo-katan #Bo-Katan Kryze #bo katan kryze #bo katan #fenn rau #bo-katan kryze/fenn rau #bo katan kryze/fenn rau #bofenn #star wars #mandalorians #fanfic #ao3

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inanotheruniversemusings · 4 years

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touch down (like a seven four seven)

fill for Supercorptober2020′s prompt: fall

read on ao3

Kara has seen seasons change more often than anything else, on this Earth and the others—in this universe and then some.

Fall remains her favorite though. The marvel of leaves changing from green to various shades of orange and red holds quite the candle to the bluest ocean she’s once seen on a planet one or two lightyears away, or the unfading gold light of the sun from another.

(Maybe it reminds her a bit of Krypton, of red that means life and the rebirth that will follow more than death and destruction.)

There’s really only one shade of color that measures up to how much she loves the season. Her favorite shade of green. But it’s currently on the other side of the world, hidden in the safest place she and everyone in their team managed to think of in the span of a week that’s also been riddled by every sort of attack Leviathan could send their way in their attempts to break Lex Luthor out; and under the most strict instructions of absolute zero contact that Alex has made them both swear to, no matter how much every inch of Kara’s body aches at the mere thought.

But Alex has promised in return that it’ll all be over in two weeks. And Alex never breaks her promises. Kara opts to believe that as she stares at the expanse of the city. Her eyes sweep over the seas of green and red for some semblance of comfort, draining the last dredges of her coffee for the littlest warmth it can offer before chucking the paper cup inside the bin.

Four more days. Kara thinks she’ll be fine.

…

Kara is most definitely not fine.

Two days left—and yes, she definitely has them crossed out in glaring red on the calendar that she’s stuck on her fridge door for this very purpose—and everything that can go wrong has gone wrong.

Everything.

As it turns out, Leviathan has one last trick up their sleeve: an ace in the form of a White Martian that Rao knows how they managed to pull in. It has morphed itself as one of their agents assigned to transfer Lex to the new prison cell they’ve built solely for him, and then switched itself back to its towering form just as Alex has unlocked the gates.

The next thing Kara knows, there’s a hulking alien wreaking havoc all over the DEO, with a gaggle of Leviathan soldiers right behind it. But it’s the boom that ultimately catches Kara’s attention, ringing in her ears in a way that isn’t supposed to.

Loud, and throbbing, and deafening.

Her muscles scream in protest next—or maybe it really is her, her own voice that’s shrieking in pain as she watches the worst shade of green course through her veins. At the corner of her eye, she catches Kal-El not faring well either, falling to his knees in his struggle for air.

Kara’s never been one to hate anybody; has made it a habit to give second chances, a third, a fourth, some fifths.

But she really, really, really hates Lex.

…

Lena though, Kara loves.

Rao, Kara loves her so fiercely. Her unrestricted laughter whenever she and Kara win at game night. The witty retorts she’s no longer scared to throw at Alex’s way.

Her courage. Her tenacity. Her brilliant mind.

Her loyalty. Her good heart. The biggest, greatest good heart Kara’s ever known.

Kara may be the Girl of Steel, but Lena is Kara’s very own personal hero.

It’s something that Lena has never failed to prove. Even during moments when she’s not supposed to.

(Maybe especially then.)

She pops in—quite literally, too, jumping out of a blue portal that pops out in the middle of the fight out of nowhere—armed with two small grenades concealed in one hand, and what might as well be Kara’s heart in the other.

Her broken Lena is pained at first, as she pleads at her to step right back into the portal where she’s come from. Yet, it only gets buried beneath the soundless explosion that follows when both of the grenades leave Lena’s hand and split open at the peak of their arcs, a bright light then filling the room and practically blinding everyone save for Kara and Superman.

What comes next is a blur. Between the much reinforced yellow sun grenades and the adrenaline from finally seeing her favorite pair of green eyes after the longest two weeks of Kara’s life, Kara can’t recall much. Just a ton of punching and kicking, freezing the White Martian until it’s almost a literal block of ice, and the kiss Lena gives her before she goes after Lex’s escaping chopper, wrapped in good luck, kick his ass to the next galaxy, and I love you to the ever expanding universe and back.

…

When it’s all over and Lex is back and finally secured, Kara kisses Lena this time, wraps it in you’ve always been the best out of all of us, I missed you so much, and I love you to the universe and back too.

…

“How—when—but—” Alex sputters as she looks around the mess she’ll have to fix later. Though, ultimately, her gaze settles on Lena, her eyes wide and wild with a mix of utter confusion and unbridled reverence she can’t quite manage to restrain. “You promised!”

“I did,” Lena agrees. But there’s a smirk that takes over her face that Alex can only roll her eyes at. “You made me promise not to contact Kara, and I adhered to that completely. You just never made me promise not to talk to Winn.”

Right behind the other woman, Winn waltzes in as if he’s been beckoned, stepping out of a similar portal that Lena has earlier and gaping at the same mess that Alex is already getting a headache from just thinking about.

(Kara’s sure it’s a mechanism from the future, a technology Lena isn’t even supposed to wield yet, and yet, she does. Of course.)

An exasperated sigh escapes Alex’s lungs, but it’s gratitude that fills the space between them, one that’s soon gone as Alex pulls a surprised Lena to a grateful hug. It’s a sentiment she has no problem letting Lena know, either. “Thanks for saving our asses.”

“I had Winn’s help,” Lena tries to curtail.

Yet, Alex refuses to let her. But she does pull back to give Lena some room, knowing that even after everything and despite all the good she’s done, there are still some things Lena isn’t used to receiving. So she makes a show of looking over her shoulder where Winn is, as if watching his reaction when she says, “I’m sure all he did was send you the blueprint.”

Winn gasps aptly. “How dare you. I sent her the materials too!”

Lena laughs, lets herself be pulled by Kara this time, and sinks into Kara’s arms where she knows she belongs.

…

In a tiny park that lies at the outskirts of the city, this is where Kara finally gets to enjoy the beginnings of her favorite season.

She basks in the scent of the cool Autumn air that fills her as she drops her weight on the back of one of the wooden benches facing the small lake. And there’s a kind of warmth that spreads all over her chest that has absolutely nothing to do with the cup of pumpkin spice latte resting in her hands.

It’s Lena. It always has been Lena.

The one constant in Kara’s life that she knows she can depend on—though there was a time that Lena wasn’t, and Kara will spend the rest of her life making up for that—even more constant and sure than the changing seasons.

Lena who knows each one of Kara’s smiles, and the reason behind every crinkle in her forehead.

Lena who probably will never understand Kara’s affinity for feeding ducks, but brings a loaf of bread anyway.

Lena, who Kara is sure now she loves even more than Fall itself.

…

“So how was Undredal?”

Lena hums, burrowing into Kara’s side as another breeze ruffles her hair. “Very green. Very humble. And the people are lovely.”

“Yeah?” Kara replies. She leans down a little bit to plant a tender kiss on Lena’s temple, and then adds with a teasing grin. “Met someone?”

“I did, actually,” Lena says much to Kara’s horror. “He’s cute, and quite the perfect gentleman during our dates. A bit scruffy but it works for him. Comes up to my waist when he stands to greet me every time he sees me.”

The rest of Lena’s words don’t seem to register in Kara’s mind, her thoughts suddenly stuck on a loop that repeats nothing else but dates, and her heart pounding in a way she really doesn’t like—has her sputtering through. “D-dates?”

Her face twists in a way that sends a jolt straight to Lena’s heart, aching to soothe it. She forgets about her quip entirely then; says, “He’s my neighbor’s dog, darling. They were a kind elderly couple that baked scones for me almost every day that I spent there.”

“Oh,” Kara mumbles as realization dawns at her, the rest of Lena’s words finally filtering in; can’t help but whine, “Lena.”

“They do keep trying to set me up with their son though. I must admit I admire their persistence.”

“Lena!”

(But, oh, Kara loves her so.)

#supercorp #supercorptober2020 #myfics

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littlewhitetie · 5 years

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New Year’s Wrap Up!

Thanks for the tag, @bosstoaster!!

Fics this year:

Elementary (Allura & Lance & Keith) (3,734 words)

A poison in the building they're captured in leaves Keith delirious and vulnerable, with only Allura there to take care of him. Unused to comforting others, Allura is completely out of her element. Luckily, she has Lance on the other end of the line to walk her through it.

Perennial (Shiro/Keith) (23,371 words)

Keith and Shiro find each other in every life. (A series of connected AUs) 1. Shiro will do whatever it takes to promote peace between his nation and Keith's. Even if that means staying quiet about the way the prince makes his heart ignite with the power of a thousand suns. 2. Shiro doesn’t have a soulmate anymore, but he finds the next best thing in a boy in his astrobiology course. 3. Selkies are never safe, not when Hunters are near. Keith breaks Shiro out of the laboratory facility he was taken to, but Keith is captured in the process. Shiro needs to go back for Keith, but he can’t when his ability to take his human form has been stolen away. 4. Keith takes care of Shiro after he escapes from a Fire Nation prison, his arm irreparably burned. Hoping to take down the Fire Lord, they search for a new way for Shiro to bend the elements, confronting Shiro's fear of fire along the way. 5. A Galra rebel breaks Shiro out of prison, asking for his help in shutting down a weapon that threatens the lives of the entire planet Princess Allura rests on. Shiro's Altean heritage will allow him to destroy the crystal that powers it, but not without a cost.

Pulmonary (Shiro/Keith/Allura) (7,425 words)

Infected with a disease that feeds off of heartache, flowers bloom in Shiro’s lungs, choking him with petals. He keeps the petals he coughs up a secret, but it’s getting hard to hide. The only thing that can stop its trajectory is if the person he’s in love with returns his feelings.

Shiro doesn’t even know who it is he’s sick for—Keith is Shiro’s anchor, his sun; but Allura is his compass and stars. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Neither of them could ever be his. They’ve each made their feelings for him—or lack thereof—known.

Not to mention the fate of the known universe is contingent on their upcoming marriage.

The coughing attacks get worse, but he can’t let them find out why. All he can do is try to push down his longing and watch as, little by little, Keith and Allura fall in love.

Dissonance (Shiro & Keith & Hunk & Pidge & Lance & Allura) (4,557 words)

Shiro can’t remember anything from before he was kidnapped by the Galra Empire seven years ago, but his life since then has been stable. Everything goes the way it’s supposed to, in accordance with the prophecy foretold by the Score; it’s so routine, it’s almost boring.

That all changes when, hell-bent on a mission, a stranger named Keith breaks into his home, and an unexpected reaction between their quintessences transports them halfway across the world. Shiro finds himself deep in the heart of enemy territory with nothing but a bad headache, his weaponized prosthesis, and a churlish yet protective soldier for company.

Keith vows to get him home safe and sound, but returning Shiro to his old life is easier said than done. They're going to need some help along the way.

Collect Call (Lance & Keith) (2,479 words)

The boy on the screen is wearing his old black t-shirt instead of his Marmora uniform; his bad hair is even messier than usual. “Did you need something?”

Yes, but for once, Lance's words have left him. What’s he supposed to say? Hey Keith, I want you to come home because I feel like something might be wrong with Shiro, but I can’t even figure out what the problem is—if there’s even a problem to begin with. Hey Keith, I want you to come home because I’m not you, and Shiro won’t talk to me again, no matter how hard I try. Hey Keith, I want you to come home because I miss you, and I don’t want to deal with this alone.

Nope, not happening. "I—I can call back later.”

No Matter (Keith &/Shiro, Keith & Lance) (7,104 words)

“You shouldn’t have to put up with this.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Shiro draws in a stuttering breath. “I’ve hurt you, over and over. And I don’t—I don’t know how to stop.”

Keith returns to the Castle to help figure out what’s wrong with Shiro. He’s here for him unconditionally, even when it hurts. He’ll get the information they need to find a solution; knowledge or death.

No Rest for the Blessed (2,307 words)

A series of ficlets based on whump prompts.

1. The paladins build a blanket nest for Keith, but he's afraid to fall asleep. (Keith/Shiro) 2. Shiro has a fever. Allura's stuck on nurse duty. (Shiro/Allura)

Linger (Keith &/Shiro) (3,037 words)

“You should go back to bed,” Keith says. “Get some more sleep.”

Shiro’s tired, but no. He can’t go back to his room, not yet. He’s not ready to be alone again.

Not wanting to leave Keith's side, Shiro looks for excuses to linger.

Silence (Allura & Lance & Keith & Shiro, Allura &/Lance, Keith &/Shiro) (9,691 words)

An anti-Galra nanoweapon leaves Keith ill and Shiro badly injured. It's up to Lance and Allura to find them, take care of them, and get them home safe and sound.

As Many Times (Keith/Shiro) (1,439 words)

Shiro has fever dreams; Keith does what he can to help.

Just Enough (3,949 words)

Ficlets and prompt fills.

1. “Hello, Lance,” Allura says, quietly. She cants her head and lifts her lips a fraction: it’s okay; come closer. (Lance &/Allura)

2. It’s easier to pretend the clone wasn’t a he, but an it. Lance doesn't miss him. He doesn't. He can't. (Lance &/Shiro)

3. Allura turns her body to face Keith; he shifts his weight. The hug they share is a shy little thing, tentative and careful, but genuine. (Keith & Allura & Lance)

4. “One of these days,” Shiro says to Keith, voice slurring on the brink of fever dreams to come, “I’m going to tell you.” (Shiro/Keith)

5. Shiro doesn’t know how to lead into it—nothing he could think of of ever felt right—so he just takes the plunge. “I’m in love with you." (Shiro/Keith)

6. The Kerberos mission is successful. Keith is there for Shiro when he returns. (Shiro/Keith)

Sensibility (Shiro/Keith) (1,659 words)

Shiro visits Keith in the hospital and talks about his feelings. It's okay, he thinks, if Keith's not awake to hear it.

The Only Thing Sweeter (Allura/Keith/Shiro) (1,498 words)

“I think I’m in love,” she croons. The look he gives her is as soft and warm as the melted chocolate on her tongue.

Keith shows Allura how to make chocolate chip pancakes as they bring Shiro breakfast in bed.

Make Believe (Keith/Shiro) (15,125 words)

This was a terrible idea. An excruciating, tantalizing car crash of an idea. Keith should never have agreed to this. It was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He was never going to be able to come back from this.Careful metal fingertips traced his jaw, tipping his face up to meet gentle, storm grey eyes. He was close, so close. “Everything okay?” Shiro asked, quietly.“Of course,” Keith said. "Everything is fine.”It was a bald-faced lie; everything was not fine. It was wonderful and devastating and nowhere in between.

In which, in order to form an alliance, Keith and Shiro need to fake a relationship and endure a series of related trials.

Total Fics: 14. 15 if you count The Price of Peace, which was part of a reverse bang--the words are @sonderquill‘s, but I came up with the concept and helped out with the plot. :)

Total Words: 108,022

Ship/character breakdown: Ship breakdown:

A lot of my fics can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic, so depending on your interpretation:

Sheith: 8-12 fics + ficlets Shallureith: 2 Shallura: 1 Allurance: 0-3 Shance: 0-1

Character breakdown:

Keith: 19 Shiro: 17 Allura: 9 Lance: 9 Hunk: 2 Pidge: 2

Not much Hunk or Pidge in there, but I do love them. Maybe I’ll have to write that companion fic to Finding Home sitting in my WIPs that focuses on the Garrison trio.

Characters that had the main focus:

Shiro and Keith, no surprise there. I had fun with Allura and Lance this year too!

Specifics:

Best/worst title? Best title: Make Believe. It’s a double entendre and I’m damn proud of it. Worst title: Linger. I literally just picked a word from the prompt. :/

Best/worst first line?

Best: maybe Elementary?

Something is wrong.

It’s not anything special, but it sets the story up the way I want it to.

Worst: Silence

“Lance? Will you tell me a story?”

Enh.

Best/worst last line?

Best: I’d say either Linger or Sensibility.

Linger:

With a soft sigh, Shiro lets his heavy eyelids fall closed. He’s calmed by the sound of fingers tapping against keys, interrupted occasionally by a gentle touch. A press to his wrist, a stroke of his cheek, a brush of fingers through his hair. He falls asleep to sweet, subtle reminders that he’s not alone, not anymore.

Sensibility:

Shiro’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and it’s not like it’s a secret any longer. So he says, with every intention of being heard, “I love you too,” and the way Keith’s little smirk fades into something soft and genuine is completely, utterly worth it.

Worst: The Only Thing Sweeter.

Yes, she could get used to this. Breakfast in bed with her two favourite people? It’s not Altea, it’s not the Castle, but it’s exactly where she wants to be.

This one was for a flashbang, and I was at my word limit. I think the ending could have been better.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

More for sure! I’m a very slow writer, so I’m impressed by my word count. :)

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year? I wrote a domestic fluff piece! Surprised myself with that one. I don’t think I’d have expected to write Allurance a year ago either, since I only got onboard with that one around season 5-ish.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Hmmm. Maybe Pulmonary. It’s so self indulgent. Shiro-centric, check. Hanahaki, check. Sheith, check. Shallura, check. Kallura, check. Political marriage, check. Angst with a happy ending, check. Pining Shiro, check, check, and check.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Make Believe is most popular in terms of comments/kudos on AO3, though Sensibility got more notes on tumblr.

Make Believe: Fake dating is such a fun trope, and I love writing from Keith’s point of view. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster, and there’s SO much pining. I always love getting comments on that one--everyone’s so frustrated with them. >:)

Sensibility: This one was a bit of a surprise! My writing is usually pretty dialogue-heavy, so having only one character speaking was an interesting challenge--especially so with Shiro, whose emotions are so repressed. I’m glad people liked how it turned out! Story most underappreciated by the universe? Dissonance, by a large margin. It’s sort of a niche AU, so, fair enough. It's a lot of work to write, since I’m a bit obsessive about details, so it’s on hiatus for now. Story that could have been better? I like how Linger turned out, but there are a few things I would probably go back and change. There are parts of Silence, too, that I think could have been done better. Sexiest story?

Haha, my stories are all very wholesome. They’re mostly just cuddling and pining. The closest I ever got to sexy was two years ago with A Game of Cat and Space Mouse, and even that was pretty chaste. Saddest story? I cried writing the scene in No Matter where Shiro attacks Keith. I was sure that would never happen in canon since that would be too emotional... I am delighted to have been wrong.

I wrote a couple sad drabbles, too, with Easier (Lance processing the clone situation) and the Kerberos Success AU (Keith helping Shiro live with his illness post-Kerberos). They earned me some lovely tags, such as “who the fuck needs a heart”, “*sobbing*”, “how dare you”, “fuck you??”, “are you trying to murder me”, and “CALM DOWN SATAN!” Job well done, I guess. :)

Most fun? Make Believe! Fake dating is always fun. Story with single sweetest moment? The entirety of The Only Thing Sweeter is sappy enough to give you a toothache, but single moment? Maybe the end of Linger, where Shiro doesn’t want to be left alone, so Keith lets him sleep in the common room with his head in his lap.

Three words come back to him like a beacon, cutting through the swathes of dark memories under Haggar’s influence. “What you said to me,” Shiro says, “When we… when I almost… when you got that scar. You— you really meant it, didn’t you.”

Keith pulls back so Shiro can see his smile, honest and kind. “You know I always mean what I say.”

“Yeah,” Shiro whispers. “You do.”

“I meant what I said about you needing sleep, too,” Keith says. He rubs the tear tracks from Shiro’s face with his thumb, then guides him to lie down, bringing Shiro’s head to rest in his lap. “Get some rest, alright?”

Hardest story to write?

Oh maaan, there were a few. The last AU in Perennial (Sacrifice) was definitely a challenge, the latest chapter of Silence just hated me, and the zine piece I recently wrote for @vldwhumpzine fought me tooth and nail.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Elementary for sure! Allura & Lance’s banter was just so fun and natural. It basically wrote itself.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I don’t know about shift, but Collect Call, Elementary, and Silence all really reinforced how much I love supportive Lance.

Most overdue story?

I need to finish up Silence. There are also some prompts sitting in my inbox that I haven’t gotten around to.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I tried something different with the pacing for Linger. I was reading one of @lightshesaid‘s fics and was in awe of her descriptive imagery, so I tried to slow down a bit and pay more attention to details. I’m not sure if it worked, but I tried!

I also wrote a couple stories without Shiro in them, and that was just crazy.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Finish Silence and Make Believe! Those are the big ones. I’ve also got some unpublished WIPs I’d like to get around to, like a piece set in the Kerberos Success AU, maybe a follow up to Pulmonary, and maaaybe that angsty post-s6 fic where Shiro comes out of the astral plane forgetting how to interact with the world and the people around him. Peer pressure is a great motivator. :)

Tagging: I’m awful with tagging and don’t want to put pressure on anyone, but if you want to please do and let me know--I’d love to see!

#voltron #littlewhitetie writes #meme

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asireadandwrite-blog · 6 years

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1. Is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason? I’m holding off on book 2 of my series, because I wanted to let the first one rest for a while, and now I’ve started a re write...

2. What work of yours, if any, are you embarrassed about existing? I’m not embarrassed by its existence, but I’ve hidden my fist Stargate SG-1 fanfic somewhere and I won’t let anyone read it ever xD

3. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? Chronological? Favorite scenes first? Something else? It usually starts with a scene, a dialogue, a stream of consciousness. Then, it’s chronological, apart from some scenes that get moved from one chapter to another

4. Favorite character you’ve written? I was going to be cliché and say I love all of them. BUT Sedna is my precious.

5. Character you were most surprised to end up writing? Aiden Crey. Honest, hard working military man? I mean what was I thinking. Something is bound to happen to him. 6. Something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now? I am currently changing something in the first book because of the rewrite. I thought it would be too complicated because it’s really woven into the story, but I just sat down and got through the book again and I’m almost there. I’ made the story far too complicated and added unnecessary and lenghty explanations, I’m glad I found the courage to get rid of it.

7. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write? Very enthusiastic, and if they don’t make me stop I’ll just talk people’s heads off with it

8. Favorite genre to write Science fiction, with a bit of magic

9. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration? Watch good shows and films, read read read and read, and listen to film or classical music 10. Write in silence or with background music? Alone or with others? Silence, or music with no lyrics, preferrably alone or with my cats or my SO who knows not to talk to me when I’m writing (I bite)

11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing? Pace. When I reread my early works and even my fist draft for my series, it was awfully paced. I still have room for improvement. There always is

12. Your weaknesses as an author?

Battle scenes. I’m terrible at this. I don’t like reading them, I don’t like writing them, and it shows. 13. Your strengths as an author? Inner monologues. I think. I hope haha 14. Do you make playlists for your work? I have character or couples/friends playlists for my main characters. I also have mood playlists, and one called “Epicness (for writing)” 15. Why did you start writing? As far as I remember I made up stories. I also tried illustrating them when I was a kid but thankfully stopped that after a while. I just love telling stories. I started actually building a proper book-length story when i was about 15 and couldn’t find a book I liked and decided to write my own. 16. Are there any characters who haunt you? Ranea, my queen of the Underground. She’s scarier than I let the reader know in the first series and I can’t help thinking about her and what she’s doing in the shadows.

17. If you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Stop planning and outlining and making lists and start writing at once

18. Were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? What were they? I’m not sure. I try not to read when i’m writing to keep my mind focused on my story, but I read many different authors and styles. Of course my style got influenced but i’m not sure I’d be able to recognize it, being so close to the work 19. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.? I have a family tree for all the characters in my book. I have a system for my notebooks : I put little patches of colour on the side according to an elaborate code I designed where purple is everything about Sedna and so on. Since I write by hand before typing into the computer, I also have a lot of hand written material that I go through with the same colour code 20. Do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts? It really depends on the time I have. I usually write a little before going to work in the morning, but when I have a day off I tend to sit down for hours and get a lot of words on the page

21. What do you think when you read over your older work? I see things I’d do differently, but mostly I like it, and I do that to boost my confidence when for some reason I imagine I can’t write 22. Are there subjects that make you uncomfortable to write? Not really. There’s close to no nsfw scenes in my work, not because I’m uncomfortable with writing them but because they’re really not essential to my story. 23. Any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing? I haven’t had anything really obscure happen to me. My life is as messy as anyone else’s I suppose. Repressed anger surely shows in my work but it’s not that obscure 24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story? Not really. I’ve done research to not write complete nonsense on some things (like how does scar tissue appear after a burn, brain wavelengths and stuff)

25. Copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of.

I don’t want to spoil the story, so I’ll paste something from the very first chapter of the series!

Wesley got up and went on the balcony for some air; it was so hot it seemed too thick to breathe. The suns were still high in the sky, baking the walls of the Mansion, but he shuddered despite the heat. This place had always unnerved him, leaving him an aftertaste of danger, of exposure. The whole world seemed to hurt, but not because of its past heavy with death and destruction; from above, the blood-red globe reminded him of a stilled heart, torn away from its rightful seat in a rib cage. To him, Edin was a long and intense cry of pain, the Ocean carrying to his ears the sighs of a planet mourning its own aridity, and under his eyes the flayed beach was empty but for the ghosts of drums and dances. Every detail made his senses delightfully sore; the suns, the dry sand, the howls of unknown creatures in the desert... And above all, Sedna.

I was tagged by @rosecorcoranwrites a month ago and am only doing this now, shame on me. I love those things, thank you for tagging me!

I’m new to writblr, so I don’t have many people to tag... If anyone wants to play, they can ! :)

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