Slowly Learning (That Life Is Okay)

Slowly Learning (That Life Is Okay)

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A Little Night Music AU

I’m still writing it, never fear, it’s just slow going. I have this habit of writing completely out of order—especially since this story is based in music, and my song fixations are fickle AF.

(Excerpt from a far-away chapter) We’re Talking Away:

Moon stared at your phone—but to your dismay, he didn’t move to take it. For a moment, you were afraid Sun had been wrong—that not even this kind of olive branch would work.

When he finally moved, you nearly jerked back. He paused. Watching you. Reading you. Moon touched down onto the carpet. Then, he touched the phone at last. And he scrolled. For the longest thirty seconds of your life.

When his hand slid from the device, you frowned at his selection. It was the track you’d been looping since your talk with Sun. He’d been listening.

“…You sure? You’re not bored of this one yet?”

His eyelights shuttered briefly. Then nothing. If you didn’t know any better, you could have mistaken him for an elaborate art installation; standing like a mannequin in the neon light. His stillness in these moments still unnerved you just enough. Which was likely their intention, regardless of the fragile bridges you were rebuilding.

He lifted a hand—the lack of bells nearly startling you; an unpleasant reminder of how you got to this point. But you didn’t flinch. You promised. You waited.

Moon’s faceplate rotated, slowly, the gears clicking mutely. And slowly, gently, his fingers touched the edge of your phone again.

Tap. Tap.

You huffed.

“You’re the boss.”

You hit play.

As the first wave of synth drums pulsed in your fingers, Moon lifted off the ground once more. He regarded you, ever silent—his eyelights glowing across your face. You searched for words. Something, anything, to keep this moment from ending—to delay Moon from taking off into the dark again.

And then he’s soaring. Twisted up in that cable like aerial silk, swinging, tinny laughter floating over the familiar synthesized music. Something in your chest unclenched. You couldn’t help a smile as he passed just a bit too close, brushing your shoulder, the point of his hat nearly hitting your chin. He twirled, hooking the wire around his foot, and swung by again. Like he’s remembering how to fly.

Show off.

Colors of Rage

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He.

Inevitably, I end up here~

Especially pleased with this one, ngl.

Inevitable

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Is this all I’m doing lately? Listen, that’s—I don’t think—hey, you just—

Vacant

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It’s spooky season, but make it ✨aesthetic✨

Peace Is A Lie

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The Force Shall Free Me

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It’s sad lizard hours, bruvs.

Reach

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My hands hurt a lot these days, and it’s not my best, but damn it if it doesn’t soothe my stupid soul.

Listen, Twin Suns is a masterpiece, and my absolute favorite AU is -this-. Maul’s last chance for his ultimate revenge on the man who set him on this twisted path to ruin lies in the hands of two vulnerable and woefully ignorant children; and due to the nature of his own cosmic joke, their would-be protector is both the eye of the maelstrom of his rage and unadulterated hatred, and the center of his desperation for purpose at the end of all things. He came to Tatooine to kill or die, and instead, he lives with the thin hope of seeing this finished. And Obi-Wan begins to hope in turn.

Maul would absolutely take to Leia and loathe every second of it until he doesn’t, I will die on this hill.