Fili twitched when the buzzing sounded even closer than the last time, but forced his fingers to resume work on Kili’s flower crown. There was no need for alarm. The insect was just as likely to fly away as it was likely to –
His fingers crushed the delicate stem of a buttercup when the buzzing sounded much closer than before. Fili grit his teeth, smoothed out the mangled stem and forced himself to pay attention to the task at hand.
It was the height of summer and that meant the Summer Festival celebrations and the time of the flower crowns. To that end, Fili was currently perched in the middle of a gently sloping meadow, up until a few moments ago merrily making a crown for Kili.
Kili, who, curse the little brat, was nowhere to be seen, having gone to fetch some more flowers for the industrial enterprise taking shape nearby.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I’ve been sending @linane-art her 12 Days gifts and forgetting to post them. Whoops! So this was yesterday’s! She gave me permission to write in her absolutely beautiful Between the Boards universe, which she also kindly let me podfic. She puts up with my fangirling with great class. XD
Preview:
Despite knowing Kíli since they were small, and despite growing up constantly underfoot in Kíli’s family’s shop, Fíli knew almost nothing about Jewish holidays and observances.
He knew, from childhood, that Passover was extremely important and that it had something to do with the timing of his own family’s celebration of Easter. He recognized a few of the traditional songs, sung softly by Kíli’s mother and sister as they gently folded egg whites into the matzo shalet or filled hungry bellies with piping hot noodle soup and berches. But he was never invited for any of their holidays, nor did he invite Kíli to celebrate the various saints’ days. It felt disrespectful, somehow, to intrude on the very thing that made Kíli so different, made his family so special and warm, or to imply that Fíli’s own holidays were somehow more important.
He thought of the Jewish celebrations occasionally when Kíli was in hiding, wishing he could bring some sense of history back to his friend as Kíli slowly wasted away in the cupboard. But it was so dangerous just to whisper to each other; certainly, it would have been suicidal to actually murmur words of Jewish origins. Some things he could claim he spoke of to Kíli the cat, but not the traditions of <i>Pesach</i> or <i>Shavuot</i>.
Then, of course, they were running, hungry and frightened and determined, and there was no time to talk of tradition and loss.
Which was why, when tiny Mrs. Liljegren brought in her menorah for repair, Fíli had to ask when she needed it.
“For Chanukah,” she told him, serious as always. Laughter was hard to find in these first years after the world had attempted to destroy itself.
Kili's head snapped up, irises black ringed with heat, cheeks flushed. He shook his beautiful perfect exhausted hard head. "We can't be together yet. But so many. So many. Years. Of wanting and waiting and wanting, and I am taking this."
Fili’s fists clenched. Okay. Okay, I can do this. He just nodded.
“Here,” Fili moved his hand down to his belly and there, the pulse of life met. It wasn’t a beat exactly, but a thrum. “That’s my fire.”
“I don’t actually understand any of this,” Kili determined, before pillowing his head on Fili’s stomach. It was soft under his head and the thrum was oddly comforting.
“I know,” Fili stroked a hand over Kili’s hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
They spent the rest of the day in bed. Kili wouldn’t have minded a chance to get out and explore the caverns further, but Fili seemed determined to keep him there. Even when Kili grew hungry, Fili brought food to him. Even fed him, bite by bite, with a kiss between each one.
“You’ll forget this,” Fili breathed into his mouth. “I don’t know how I’ll bear it. You’ll forget and you’ll move away and I’ll leave you alone.”
“You can’t leave me alone,” Kili swallowed. “You said it yourself.”
“I’ll try,” Fili gritted out and then kissed him again.
--- A Nest of Stars by @dragonmuse
I’ve been meaning to do this one for ages.
12 Days of Christmas - Day 11
with special thanks to @damnitfili who once again helped with inspiration <3
Me and @dragonsquillwrites have made a pact today: whenever one of us posts something new we created, the other will reblog it and leave a comment on AO3 or on Tumblr if it’s not on AO3. Not like, not kudos, not scream at each other on Skype. Comment.
Because comments are important. You cannot overestimate how much.
We will do it every time, no excuses, as soon as we’re able to. Also on the things we’re not so keen on if it ever comes up. Out of the respect for the time it took us to create it. Days, more often weeks, lots of stress and let me tell you some of the things we create are like an excercise in masochism.
And we will have 1 comment each minimum on everything new we create.
And now we want to open this pact to you too.
I am so fed up of excellent writers and artists leaving because they don’t feel appreciated enough. How many have we lost over the years? How many more will go soon?
I don’t feel appreciated (and I don’t care if it sounds self-important).
Dragonsquill posted a story yesterday - it got 100 hits and 0 comments. Seriously? 100 people and not one of them liked it enough to comment? “Fanfiction isn’t much worth writing these days.” No, it isn’t. Except I want it. I want Dragonsquill’s writing. I adore it. And I want to feel motivated enough to draw regularly like I used to. I don’t want it to be a battle each time.
So I’m doing the pact.
You’re reading it on the bus / at work / in class / IDK and don’t have the time to comment? Comment when you get back home.
But you never know what to say in the comments? Talk about your fave bits. Talk about what you think felt off for the characters. Gatecrash with a headcanon it made you think of. Quote your favourite lines. Say ‘ANSNJHHBNDKSMSDJHFBD!!!’ All of the above is better than no comment at all.
You only visit Tumblr once a week and then it’s gone. Nobody cares. It’s old stuff. *I CARE!!*
You’re off to aunt Margaret for the whole week and won’t have internet access. Comment when you get back.
But you’ve never spoken to the author before and they probably don’t know who you are. Doesn’t matter. You will now be the ‘thank-you-God-commenter’ to them.
It’s not so hard.
Regularly across my dash roll the posts about how important comments are. Yet I don’t actually see the people who reblog them in my comments. I see about 4 regular people, who as best as I can tell are not on Tumblr. At least recently.
I’m going to do a tag and an AO3 collection. To catch the people who want to do the pact. So I can find it easily without the need to follow everyone coz not everyone will want to do that. And that’s okay.
I’m using #COMMENTPACT (one word) and the same AO3 Collection. I will keep both open in my tabs and this is how I will track it.
If you want to do it too, please let me know and I will pass on to everyone doing the pact. Then start using the tag and collection.
If you don’t want to do it, or you never create anything yourself, that’s fine too. You carry on with what you’re doing. I’m also not going to suddenly stop reading things from people not doing the pact, I just specifically want to target the ones who do with comments.
I hope this makes sense, I have just come down with a cold so what’s in my head and what you see written may not be the same.
This kiss is a gift for @damnitfili. For the bestest bro, kindest friend and an undisputed Satan who sometimes slips into writing me nice things where no one dies.
12 Days of Christmas - Day 10
The angel sits on the roof where he has plenty of space and an excellent vantage point.
He’s wearing a simple gray t-shirt and a pair of jeans so worn that there are threadbare patches over his knees which have nothing to do with fashion.
It’s a cool evening, now that the warm rays of sun are fast disappearing but he doesn’t mind – he tucks his white, fluffy wings around himself like a blanket against the harsh gusts of wind every now and then.
The other creature lands on top of the firewood shed, shakily and having to balance with some desperate flapping.
The angel narrows his eyes, stopping himself flying over to steady his brother. Just.
“How bad is it?” he asks instead.
“A couple of stitches, a sprinkling of dark magic. I’ve had much worse –“ he watches the muscles in angel’s jaw tense and he knows he’s made a mistake bringing up unwanted memories. “I’ll be right as rain in a week or two.”
Screams, blood, so much blood he kept sliding in it, metal thongs for pulling out bullets and overwhelming darkness, which is always harder to keep at bay when he’s injured.
“I’m sorry,” says the angel, eyes lost somewhere on the line of the horizon.
Long gash along his back from where a juggernaut finally got him, uneven edges of a wound along his left leg where the hell hounds found him after.
This kiss is a gift for @mylittledragonhoard who upon joining the FiKi fandom, effortlessly won our hearts over with her wonderful writing. Never give up, I adore pretty much everything that comes out from under your, er, keyboard... <3
12 Days of Christmas - Day 6
One day, their ships just appeared in the skies.
There was a lot of confusion at first, attempts at establishing contact, various levels of alerts.
When it came, the invasion was brutal, but quick. Whole cities burned, between the napalm missiles which rained from the mother ships and the variety of conventional weapons that the governments used to try and take them out.
Nothing worked, save nukes, and once several of those were fired, it became clear that the nuclear fallout wasn’t worth taking a ship down.
Later, when their supremacy was well-established, the first ground troops appeared. They didn’t seem to have any specific aim, apart from destruction and killing. They used biological weapons which wiped out entire districts, as well as plasma guns and mechanised destroyers.
They ate some of the corpses.
Gradually shelters and bunkers fell, one by one.
Erebor was one of the last ones to go. A complex mined inside an entire mountain, with access points small and well-defended.
It wasn’t very practical, but it kept them safe.
They didn’t account for a ship literally crash-landing into a mountain side and ripping its way inside through sheer rock. Once in, it was pretty much over. Only a handful managed to escape.
Fili and Kili were there when it happened, although it wasn’t their home. They saw first-hand the level of destruction that a single incursion could inflict. And then they ran, hid, survived.
Being excellent fighters and knowing the layout of the place made them prime candidates when Thorin announced they would take the mountain back. It was the only way – Erebor had been full to the brim with supplies and resources, latest weapons systems and tech. If humanity was ever going to take the aliens down, it needed a safe place to develop its weapons and strategy.
Besides, it was Thorin’s home; and Thorin didn’t take kindly to those who tried to take it away from him.
