Schmetterlingsuniversum

Things you might find here: fanfics, headcanons, meta and other stuff

[pippin-pippout]

I CAN'T

Jiang papa: That LECHER

Emperor: In front of my salad?

Stoic guard: wait I wanna see

Jiang Papa: Won't you do something about him?

Emperor: Unfortunately I'm not permitted by the bro code

Stoic guard: *ready to knock either of them out if they interrupt*

Jiang Papa: I'll do it myself

Emperor: You can't I'm also unfortunately his wingman

Stoic guard: I don't want to have to knock out future furen's fake dad but I will if I must.

[nunafilms]

✩ The Double ─ Episode 34 (墨雨云间)

[calcedon79]

Hi! Your Mines Monday Anniversary Gift Swap giftee name is: Weirdcatperson1 (likes/dislikes to be DM’d)

Here are links to the prompt combiner and the instructions! Post your gift anytime during the month, but before Monday, August 11th! Have fun! :D 

Mines Monday Anniversary gift for dear @Weirdcatperson1

Prompt: Tradition + blue In the beginning

Although the planet has long had spaceports and cities and trades with many worlds, its oceans are as wild and untamed as they were when it was first settled, and the fishing clans adhere to ancient rites. Weather and tides dictate their lives.

“The old gods are everywhere,” they say on Minashee. They drift in the currents, grow in the depths, and sing in the dancing spray. They are in the sunlight on the glittering sea and in the spray of the surf. They gather at the edges of the day, at dawn and dusk.

And the gods are not always benevolent.

The years are hard. Currents change, deadly storm surges increase, nets remain empty, and with them the stomachs and pockets of their inhabitants.

So the clans follow their oldest rule: give the sea what is most precious.

Such is the tradition.

And what is more precious than the future?

This time, the future is called Sifo-Dyas. The youngest child of the oldest clan. Barely a year old, lively, laughing, with curious eyes that openly marvel at the wonders of the world. The pride of his parents.

At dawn, they leave the sleeping child to the ocean. The basket rocks, slowly drifting away from land. Above him is the blue of the sky, below him the blue of the depths—two mirrors between which he drifts.

When the boy wakes up, his world is blue.

And bright.

Too bright.

And he is alone.

His skin, accustomed to the sun but not to its merciless harshness, glows deep red. Hunger gnaws at him, tears salt his lips. He cries out for his father, for his mother – cries out his confusion and fear aloud into the Force.

Hours pass.

The waves lift and lower the basket.

His cries grow quieter, soon reduced to whimpers, then fall silent altogether.

His consciousness fades.

But before darkness envelops him completely, a warm presence surrounds his feverish mind, carrying him away from pain and fear.

[purple-ant]

Hi! Your Mines Monday Anniversary Gift Swap giftee name is: Calcedon79 (likes/dislikes to be DM’d)

Here are links to the prompt combiner and the instructions! Post your gift anytime during the month, but before Monday, August 11th! Have fun! :D 

Mines Monday Anniversary gift for dear @calcedon79 :D

Prompt: Tradition + Sifo & Lene

“Jedi have survived worse.”

Sifo-Dyas couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene of the Zeigaran apocalypse unfolding at their feet - or rather, a meter and a half away, which was still too close. The air was burning with blue flame, with new stars periodically bursting into flame as the heat found a new, previously hidden particle of powder. As it turned out, buying decorative fakes of artifacts, among which something truly valuable had accidentally turned up, was just a side hobby of a local spice dealer.

Which wasn't Sifo-Dyas's or his master's job. Or so he thought. This was only his fourth mission as Master Kostana's Padawan. They were supposed to call the Shadows, he guessed. But they really didn't know what they were getting into, and apparently when ignorance meets poor safety procedures, scared workers, lazy guards, and highly flammable chemicals... You found yourself on top of a loading crane, out of reach of the flames pooling below.

The only sign that the situation had affected his Master in any way was the scorched heel of her boot, the melting leather adding an interesting twist to the already funny, rapidly burning air around them.

“I really hope so, Master.”

*

"Jedi have survived worse, Jedi have survived worse," Sifo-Dyas muttered, digging his heels into the ground and his back into the rock wall, trying to squeeze himself even deeper into the crevice he had found. It was almost too small for his latest growth spurt and the ancient rifle he was clutching like a life preserver.

Luckily, that also meant it was too small for the local megafauna, who were none too pleased that someone had entered their territory and taken the shiny thing. That was what happened when old outposts were left unattended and reclaimed by nature. The huge figure crashed into the mountain with a thud, causing the stone to shake, and Sifo-Dyas with it. But they both stood. Absolute darkness enveloped his small shelter as a scaly body pressed itself against the only entrance, a three-fingered paw scraping the stone, two claws managing to squeeze in, grazing a little too close to Sifo-Dyas' boots for his liking.

He finally managed to exhale, his heart still pounding in his ears, but he could think through it. Animal kinship had never been his strong suit. Dooku, with his love of animals and the strange respect he held in those who wanted Sifo-Dyas dead, would have already reached out to calm the raging beast as if it were a street tooka.

Sifo-Dyas had trouble connecting even with them. Even in a calm atmosphere, when his mind was focused on another, wary one. Maybe it was something in him, maybe he wasn't trying hard enough. Still, he tried to calm his thoughts, to breathe, and he reached out, and there he found a focused rage, and underneath that, fear. Had the Padawan gotten too close to the nest?

It didn't matter, his touch slipped, unable to catch, unable to comfort. He was a threat, and a threat had to be removed.

The paw struck the ground hard again, and Sifo-Dyas's hands twitched on the barrel of the rifle, his fingers sliding into the empty slot of the magazine. Earlier, his lightsaber had only scorched the creature's thick scales. That was good. Just because he couldn't reason with it didn't mean the Padawan wanted to hurt the beast. Then again, he might not have had a choice.

His lightsaber was a standard cylindrical shape - unlike some of the show-offs - to fit the old rifle that could multiply the power of his peacefully singing kyber many times over.

Then a familiar presence touched his mind. Relief washed over Sifo-Dyas, unexpected and refreshing, as if one of the younglings had doused him with water while playing in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The beast drew back, its massive head turning away from Sifo-Dyas's refuge. The Padawan counted the seconds. Finally, it turned and walked away, its heavy tail slapping the rock one last time. Sifo-Dyas exhaled.

His Master appeared in the doorway, her damp hair more a function of the jungle climate than the strain. The pack on her shoulders was full of old things, forgotten by past Jedi in their rush to leave. She examined Sifo-Dyas, making sure he was unharmed.

“Is this the last one?” She nodded towards the rifle.

“Yeah.”

The rest had already been delivered to the TruthSeeker and crated for transport; the Temple would find a place to store the ancient arsenal so that it would not fall into the hands of arms dealers or wild animals. Someone would have gotten hurt.

Master Lene extended her hand to him, helping him stand and climb into the light. Sifo-Dyas looked toward where the beast had disappeared one last time: it was good that the Jedi were not the only ones who survived difficult situations.

*

Contrary to Sifo-Dyas's limited experience, they had not been invited to this shootout, nor had they started it. Their ship had simply been ripped out of hyperspace in the middle of it. Had this been a routine pirate gang firefight, they might have simply flung themselves aside and jumped back into the path, prioritizing the safety of their special passenger. But the vessel under fire was a civilian liner, and it was sending frantic signals for help.

Of course, Sifo-Dyas instantly found himself in the co-pilot's seat.

The little legs followed him excitedly, fear pulsing in the Force behind the brand new shields that he and Master Lene had managed to teach the child during their short acquaintance.

"Don't worry, Jedi have survived worse," Sifo-Dyas smiled over his shoulder and raised TruthSeeker’s shields without looking.

"Am I a Jedi already?" Rael asked, too seriously for a six-year-old.

Will I survive?

Sifo-Dyas saw a Jedi Master with wild curls and an infectious, crooked smile standing before him. A smaller shadow beside him, not yet formed into all the many possible futures.

He blinked away the image of what Rael might have become and looked at what he was. A six-year-old child, his skin gray from lack of natural sunlight, slightly underfed and therefore small like all the spaceport street kids. A child whose parents had done their best and it still wasn't enough, so they'd done the last they could and sent him away to a place where he would always have food, a safe bed to sleep in, and proper clothing. He was a star whose core had yet to blossom. He was kind in the way that only a man with little more than his own heart could be.

“Yes, you are a Jedi, Rael. You are one of us.”

The boy relaxed a little.

"Now, please buckle up. We're about to enter one of the many firefights you'll survive as a Jedi," Lene reminded them before leading them out of the line of fire.

Rael's fear gradually subsided as they dodged one volley, then another. He even let out a triumphant cry when Sifo-Dyas managed to hit the attackers' cannons. The Padawan bowed dramatically, accepting the ovation as best his seatbelt would allow.

Rael had a good story to tell in the creche.

*

Sifo-Dyas was going to die.

He was going to die hiding in his Master's seldom-used quarters because, long ago, when he was still a foolish child, he had chosen the Padawan dorms over his own quarters. Because he wanted to share his little time on the planet with his friends.

Dooku was on that list of friends. And on the list of the Padawan dorms. The dorms where he was probably now, weighing their years of friendship against the stupidity of Sifo-Dyas's words. The dorms to which Sifo-Dyas would never return. He needed to leave the Temple, Coruscant, become a wandering Jedi, and let the will of the Force keep him as far away from Dooku as possible.‎

His Master's calloused hand came up awkwardly to rest on the top of his head and stroked it just as awkwardly. Lene wasn't the first Jedi anyone had ever turned to for support or a hug, it just wasn't in her nature. But she had really tried for Sifo-Dyas. He appreciated it, honestly, a lot.

Only Ferana remained steadily indifferent to his suffering. She landed silently on the mats next to his head, only her claws scraping the rough fabric. And then she pecked him roughly on the top of his head, catching a tuft of hair, and began to tug.‎

“Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.”‎

‎Sifo-Dyas didn't even try to drive the old convor away; she didn't see him as a threat anyway. That was his life: humiliated by a bird, and even worse, possibly losing his best friend because of stupid feelings.‎

"Not now, my dear," Lene said, and gently pulled his hair from the beak's grasp and pushed Ferana aside. It eased Sifo-Dyas's suffering just a little, returning it to its former, still high, slightly nauseating level.

‎”Master…”‎

“Yes, Sifo?”‎

"Can we spend the rest of my apprenticeship on the Outer Rim? And, well, everything after that?" Because obviously he couldn't be alone with his visions. It was a whole other topic for endless self-pity, so Sifo-Dyas decided not to dwell on it. No, today he was nursing his foolish heart.‎

“We could. But we won’t.”‎

‎Another groan of pain.

"Come on, Sifo." Oh no, that was a serious voice. He'd used up his pity for the next year. "Have you even talked to him?"

"No..." Sifo-Dyas mumbled into the thin pillow. "I just... ran away. I didn't want to see his..." disappointment, confusion. "Reaction."‎

“Apparently his reaction consists of five messages on your comlink in the last minute.”‎

Sifo-Dyas felt as if he had simultaneously jumped out of his skin and fallen all the way to the natural surface of Coruscant. He did not physically move.‎

“What did he say?”

“I don’t read your correspondence, Padawan,” her tone expressed clear disgust at the idea of teenage conversations, not an invasion of privacy.

‎Sigh.

“Jedi have survived worse…”

“Absolutely.”

* The battle continued without them.

Sifo-Dyas breathed carefully, feeling his side rise and fall slightly around the wound. No organs seemed to be affected. The Force was with him. In all his seventy years of living in close proximity to lightsabers, he had never been wounded like this—full-force, through and through. His mind registered the strangeness of his charred nerves, and the dull feeling that something was missing.

Somewhere at the edge of his vision, lightsabers continued to clash, the crackle of Sith lightning was unmistakable, and the Force seemed to go mad with the swirl of light and dark, all possibilities drawn to this single moment... but for the first time in years, he had a really, really good feeling.

‎Slowly he moved his hands, leaving the lightsaber on the floor, and leaned on his elbows, pulling himself up. His injured knee protested, but he gave the pain to the Force and crawled to the side, toward the other Jedi who had been taken out of the fight.

"Lene?" he called, looking at the white back of her head. The hair had grown out, none of them had thought to get it cut before the battle of the millennium.

‎An indistinct grunt was heard in response, and Lene fell backwards with a groan. She had received a glancing blow across her body, but only with the tip of the sword. Unpleasant, but no diagonal cuts. The Force was with them. Her face had turned gray, the wrinkles had deepened sharply, and her eyes were closed, but her eyelashes were trembling.

“How are they doing?”

‎Sifo-Dyas turned his head toward the battle, where the Order's finest duelists—with a ridiculously high percentage of Yoda's lineage—had taken the fall for the Sith Master off their hands. They really should have handed this over to the Shadows instead of going through the motions, but... who was he kidding. Uncovering the Sith had been Lene’s life's work, and by association, Sifo-Dyas's; they weren't about to hand it over to the Shadows that easily.

"They are writing their names in history," Sifo-Dyas fell back heavily to the floor, pain spreading through his body like a blast wave.

“Well, that’s good... the one who takes glory takes... official explanations.”

“Force forbid…”

They fell silent, listening to their wounds and the heated air.

“Lene?”

A questioning hum.

“Jedi have survived worse.”

The Jedi had already outlived the Sith once; the bar had been set.

Don't you dare die.

‎Chuckling.

And together, they would survive even the worst.

[calcedon79]

Ohhh ant, that's so beautiful “Jedi have survived worse” – good heavens, what a tradition!!! “Can we spend the rest of my apprenticeship on the Outer Rim?” – Sifooooo, you drama queen!! Thank you so much for this wonderful little story Sorry I couldn't enjoy it sooner I only got back to civilization yesterday

[calcedon79]

Greetings, dear meinerseits from somwhere in Sweden. There's rarely any net here, so the blorbo anniversary gift won't be here for another week. But I'm writing diligently by hand. Promise.

[charmwasjess]

okay but what if: Sifo-Dyas has visions of Dooku (still holding a blue lightsaber no less) being the instrument of his death and thinks it's because in that future, he is the one who fell and went evil, and Dooku is still a Jedi, hunting him down

[calcedon79]

Please have mercy!!

I'm in the middle of the end of term report stress, there are some big family events coming up and you two are trying to kill me with this!

[izel-scribbles]

first rule of being a rare pair shipper is find a freak or three who can be convinced to enjoy the rare pair as much as you do. second rule is feed each other's insanity

[charmwasjess]

A MINES POST NOT ON A MONDAY?!!

It's come to my attention (thanks @mika1683!!!) that our ✨Mines Monday Prompts 1 Year Anniversary✨ is coming up next month!

That's right, we've been putting Sifo-Dyas in scenarios every week for a whole year now!

We'd love to celebrate, but as ever, this effort is about you, so @bolithesenate and I wanted to turn the question over to the community. What sounds fun? A special theme for prompts in July? A fic/art rec sharing circle? We all get together somewhere and make a giant sculpture of him to commemorate the occasion?!?!? (No one will know who it is.)

As a reminder, the entry fee to becoming a member of the mines is to simply exist as a Sifo-Dyas fan; all are welcome!! If you've never participated in a Mines Monday prompt before, we want to hear from you just as much as anyone else, so don't be shy about jumping in! Our only mission is to generate more love for our rare blorbo and have fun and support each other while we do!

[calcedon79]

[bolithesenate]

do you think there ever was a mandalorian who, after a hunt gone bad, suddenly wakes up in a gigantic farmstead, surrounded by scantily clad (by mando standards), impossibly capable people of all ages, species and sexual persuasions and thinks "oh no, I died and this is heaven"

and all the AgriCorps jedi around them have to try their very best to not break down laughing

[bolithesenate]

#where is my live action series that just follows the drama and sex lives of AgriCorps Jedi in some nothing year circa 70-something BBY

@charmwasjess i need you to be aware that that is LITERALLY my biggest dream. the things i would do for this to become reality. disney hire me.

[calcedon79]

And while we're at it, question for the fam: Can we get a “Jedi Nights” show too? want to see @charmwasjess temple guards and sappy romance! Bring it on! Both!

[jun-c]

High Republic Week day 2: For Light and Life

「This is a day to celebrate all things Jedi and the Force!」

というお題なので大好きなPorterを描きました😊

PorterはフェーズIIの時代からとてもカッコいいですよね！

[charmwasjess]

About to have an unpleasant 24 hours, so I'm sharing some self indulgent TPM Sifo Lives WIP for enrichment purposes:

“Try it,” Sifo-Dyas whispered. 

“Try what?”

“Whatever awful thing you're fantasizing about doing to me,” Sifo-Dyas eyes fluttered shut, as if with infinite weariness and longing. “Come on. I could use the exercise.”

“You are drunk,” Dooku pointed out, to cover his flusterment. 

“And you’re crippled. It might even the playing field between us. Make things interesting.” 

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” 

“I'm not afraid of you.” 

"No," Dooku snorted, despite himself. “Fear has never been your path to the dark side.”

“What is it, then?”

Dooku looked at him. His shadow fell across the lower half of Sifo-Dyas’s face in a way that obscured the burn scars on his lips. Looking at him like that, with the traffic lights from the window glittering in his dark eyes, pieces of his hair falling around his face, he almost seemed whole. 

He understood, then. The drinking at dinner. The reason he had agreed to come to it in the first place, why he was here alone with Dooku right now. Sifo-Dyas had done it all for one reason: to hurt himself. 

“Sadness,” he realized.

“Darth Woe.” Sifo-Dyas’s smile gleamed in the darkness. 

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Dooku made himself shrug. “We don’t get to choose the names.”

“What kind of freedom is that, if you can’t even choose your own name?”

“It’s not about freedom.”

“I know. It’s about power.” Sifo-Dyas’s voice cracked. “Do you feel powerful?”

Dooku considered. He had given Sidious everything for this power. His love, his honor, his friends, his planet, his life. His past and his future. 

Now, here he was, sitting close enough to touch this man after so much absence and pain between them, and having to think of nothing more than the ways he might further damage him. Sidious spoke of the darkness's exquisite layers and complex depths, but it always seemed to come back to the same tired conclusion. Destruction. 

[thats-ee]

Things aren’t going to get better

[charmwasjess]

✨Mines Monday ✨

Hello friends and welcome to Mines Monday, our weekly Sifo-Dyas creative community prompt. Y'all know the deal by now: use the prompt for art, meta, fic, or anything in between, so long as it contains our chaotic dumpsterman, our doom blorbo, our favorite plot device, the indefinable Sifo-Dyas.

Today's prompt comes from wonderful @calcedon79 who nobly and bravely sent in this fantastic submission:

Deaged

Now doesn't that sound like trouble? :D If you're shopping for another idea, our megalist of prompts from as far back as the mines have been churning is here. And don't forget your homework: send myself or @bolithesenate a future prompt to keep the mines chugging along! We run on your submissions!

Love you all, be well, and we'll see you next week!

[calcedon79]

Today is one of those days ...

Haven't been feeling well for days and this morning I couldn't breathe properly so I went to the doctor. (Asthma in combination with bronchitis is really annoying.)

However, on the way home I just wanted to buy some groceries and there were... STRAWBERRIES

Beautiful ripe strawberries. And cheaper than they've been for a long time. (€1.88 for 500g, how cool is that?!)

Friends, who needs oxygen when you can have strawberries?

Well, the end of the story: instead of getting a rest, I made strawberry jam.

[thats-ee]

From time to time, it’s almost as if they still see him

[purple-ant]

so does anyone remember that omegaverse syku fic i mentioned once like a year ago? because it's here

pray before your meal

What a disgrace. The cabin was a mess. Not surprising, considering Dooku had locked himself in there for the entire flight. He and Sifo-Dyas were lying on the floor in a pathetic excuse for a nest, made from a few cloaks, a blanket, and a couple of pillows thrown off his bed. There were stains everywhere, a disgusting testament to his weakness, as if the lingering scent of frustration, desperation, and arousal weren't enough. Force help him... or: On a mission, Knight Dooku is exposed to a drug that induces hormonal cycles. Luckily, his pack is there to take care of him.