#shadow's writing

[shadowlight17]

Have a prompt that could go either funny or serious. Cody/Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan starts to say he has a bad feeling, Cody cuts him off with a stern "Don't finish that sentence." So....what happens next?

ANOTHER ONE DOWN HERE WE GOOOO Thank you for your patience!! “I have a bad-” Cody didn’t feel himself moving until his finger was gently over Obi-Wan’s lips. “Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence.”

Commander Cody followed his Jedi General through the forest, frowning at how bad visibility was with the low fog. They’d gotten separated from the main attack force and now it was just them and it had Cody’s heart hammering in his chest slightly. He had no idea how Obi-Wan didn’t sense his heightened emotions at being alone with his Jedi. But he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place. Up ahead, Obi-Wan paused, bright blue eyes scanning the fog around them. “I have a bad-” Cody didn’t feel himself moving until his finger was gently over Obi-Wan’s lips. “Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence.” He very nearly growled and looked around at the fog in paranoia. Nothing good ever came from that Force-forsaken sentence. Bad Feelings™ were BAD, and Cody had no intentions of getting wrapped up in some Force karked adventure in what was supposed to be a normal mission for once. Obi-Wan chuckled and Cody flushed as he lowered his hand. “Cody, now why can’t I finish that sentence? It’s true, I don’t have a very good feel-” Cody glared at Obi-Wan. “Don’t you dare.” He threatened, adjusting the sights on his blaster and looking around the area, waiting for something to jump out of the fog at them, to hear the telltale signs of droids, anything. He hated the waiting and bad stuff always happened after General Kenobi pointed out that something was wrong. Cody hated that about it. “You finish that sentence and something is going to try and eat us. I just know it.” Cody grumbled, tentatively leading the way now.

Obi-Wan chuckled and followed Cody as the Commander paved a path through the fog. “Fair enough, my good Commander.” They walked in silence and Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut. That is, until they both hear the low growling. Cody grumbled something and put his back against Obi-Wan’s as the animals emerged from the fog, boxing them in. “You just had to say something, sir.” Cody griped, adjusting his grip and Obi-Wan reached out, lowering is blaster. Cody nearly snapped at Obi-Wan, but he trusted the Jedi. “They’re just mad we are on their territory. Let me…” An odd and tense silence fell over the large feline creatures paced around the two Republic officers. One gave a yowl and they all melted away. Cody stared, partially in awe and partially in frustration. “Was that your bad feeling, sir?” He quipped, relaxing slightly and Obi-Wan laughed, gently nudging Cody into the fog and brushing it aside with the Force, showing that they were right next to the path. “We almost walked into their den. They were going to try and encourage us...to get us back on the path.” Obi-Wan explained, and Cody quickly climbed onto the path. “That makes sense. But sir, you still haven’t answered my question.” Cody was not leaving anything up to chance. “Yes, Cody. Relax. We are out of danger for the moment.” Cody chose to ignore the ‘for the moment’ and simply enjoy the sound of trooping feet he recognized. Their battalion. “Not a moment too soon! Come, Cody! We have a battalion to lead and a campaign to win!” Kenobi picked up the pace and Cody hurried after, watching the 212th battalion march up the fork in the road, Wooley letting out a relieved cry of “General! Commander!” Just another day escaping the Bad Feelings™. Hope that lived up to your expectations!

[melted-wax-wings]

When I wake up, I always take the time to appreciate your figure, I always notice things you label as imperfections, and appreciate them for your beauty. 

Before I even attempt to wake you up, I dot you in kisses and tender strokes. I look at you and thank whatever deity is up above that you are here with me. 

I stopped drinking coffee because of you, I use to like bitters and dark flavors, but ever since I fell in love with you, and how you taste. I’ve been drawn more and more to the sweeter things in life. 

You are my sugar and cream, you are my rays of sunshine on gray days. 

Every morning we sleep by one another’s side, I wake up happy, knowing we both made it to the sunrise. 

I dream of a day where we don’t have to leave one another’s side. A day where I can spend all morning kissing you and letting you know how truly beautiful you are.

I promise that no morning will I ever awake to not love you, my soul is intertwined with yours. 

Love, 

Your soulmate 

[shadow-writings]

Death's Carriage

It was a Wednesday evening, two days before Halloween, Dylan, like usual, was returning to his apartment on the outskirts of the French Quarter. As he walked, Dylan took in the historic buildings that lined either side of the cobblestone street, illuminated only by ancient street lamps. A cold wind sprang up rustling the man's black hair and caused him to hunch his shoulders in an attempt to keep warm.

Just one more block and I’ll be home, Dylan thought.  The only thing that he didn’t notice was the gathering fog behind him and the slow, steady hoof beats of a pair of onyx horses.  

Half way up the stairs to his door Dylan notice the bilious clouds accompanying the incoming fog as well as some sort of echo.  Making his way inside, he was greeted by the typical silence that filled his home.  Deciding to relax after a long day he switched on the TV to the news which blocked out the noise of the approaching carriage from outside.

The large, black Victorian style carriage being pulled by the onyx horses, made its way through the fog towards Dylan’s home.  The carriage driver, in a dark gray, woolen hooded robe kept the onyx pair at a funeral procession walk down the middle of the street.  The slow, steady cadence of the horses continued until they reached the front of the building then came to a halt.  A figure, dressed in a similar robe to the carriage driver but only black as night, exited the carriage carrying a glass jar and a dark walking stick.  The figure makes its way to the door and knocks with its left hand.

Inside, Dylan who was watching TV had the volume up so he didn’t immediately hear the knocks at his door but eventually he heard them and got up to answer it.  By the time Dylan reached the door the figure was finishing his 13th knock.

Who could that be at this time of night, Dylan wondered.  A sudden sense of fear gripped his heart but it was already too late for the door was halfway open.  The piercing blue eyes were met with a frightening sight.  With the door fully open, the mysterious figure was fully bathed in light and Dylan was able to see what stood before him a skeleton.  Too scared to say anything Dylan backed away from the door unintentionally inviting Death into his home.  Once inside the young, healthy man’s house, the door slammed shut behind Death, trapping Dylan in the apartment with the Grim Reaper.  

“Wh- what do you want?” Dylan stuttered.

“Besides your eternal soul,” Death quipped in a deep, gravelly voice, “I’m here to tell you that you have a day and a half to live before I come back and you die.”

“But I don’t want to die, I’m too young and I haven’t lived a full life,” Dylan pleads.

“That’s what they all say but when your time is up it’s up for good,” replied Death.  And with that Death turned to the door and left Dylan standing in shock, there in the middle of his living room with only a day and a half to live.

Outside Death made his way slowly back down the walkway, but before he entered the carriage, the driver asked in an aged and withered voice that had seen nearly a thousand years of service, “I thought you were to collect him today?”

To which Death replied, “I was but there’s something different about this one.”

“He’s a young gun isn’t he,” stated the driver.

“Yes, yes he is...only a quarter of a century,” Death replied as he got into the carriage as the driver snapped the supple, leather reins with his withered hands. Glass jars clink as the horses resumed their march and they disappeared into the foggy night to fill the jars with the souls of others whose time was up.

The rest of the night Dylan went through nearly all of the stages of grief: first denial, then anger and bargaining, and then depression however instead of accepting that he was going to die, he planned a hair-brained escape from death.  While we leave Dylan his planning let’s take a look at the path of the Grim Reaper.

After leaving Dylan’s home the next stop of many was a home near Baton Rouge where an elderly woman passed peacefully in her sleep surrounded by her family and Death was there beside her.  As she took her last breath and exhaled a light blue smoke which Death gently captured in a mason jar marked with the woman’s name.  Once sealed the jar was stored in the back of the carriage before they set off again.

Next was a Lafayette hospital where a woman and man had died from a murder-suicide that left a child without a mother or father.  The parents had already passed by the time Death and his carriage arrived to collect the souls.  The boy, only 13 years old, was hunched over his mother’s bed, sobbing uncontrollably, by the time Death entered the room after having trapped the father’s black soul.  The mother’s soul, a soft pink orb of energy, was resting on her chest near the fatal gunshot wound.  Her spirit however was attempting in vain to comfort her crying child by hugging him but her arms only phased through him, upset and frustrated her specter began to weep as well.  Death moved to the opposite side of the bed so he could collect the pink orb but was noticed by the mother who gasped in fright at the sight of him.

“Don’t worry I only collect the souls of the deceased, not their spirits ma'am,” said Death answering the unasked question.  Death continued as the transparent woman started at him, “Your spirit will remain here with your son for as long as you wish.  And when you do move on you will always be able to come back to visit him.”

All the while Death was speaking to the woman, he opened her glass jar and contained her soul inside it.  Even to his skeletal hands he could feel the warm, motherly love coming from her.  By this time the boy had stopped crying and was humming a lullaby, the very same lullaby that his mother had started humming not a few seconds before.  And that was how he left them, humming the same lullaby together in their now two different worlds.  But Death’s job is never done for people continue dying and their souls need reaping, so Death continued his rounds all throughout the night and the next day never forgetting about young dark haired man whom he would collect.

Dylan in his emotional state thought that he could outrun death of all things but we can take a look at what he did on his final day of living.  

Having spent most of Thursday pacing and thinking, thinking and pacing, the best that Dylan could come up with was to run from Death, to run as fast and as far as he could.  By the time that Friday afternoon rolled around he had decided to drive in the direction of Shreveport, LA.  Thinking that Death could return at any moment he grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone then got in his red car and left town.  But Death was no fool and knew that Dylan would try something different than all the others.

By dusk Dylan had been driving in the direction of Shreveport for about 3 and a half hours on a deserted, single lane highway.  With not another soul in sight, he reflected back to the events that had transpired a few nights before, still not entirely believing that he had come face-to-face with Death.  Checking the rearview mirror he saw a dark shape steadily getting closer and closer. Recognizing the shape as Death’s carriage, fear and terror gripped Dylan again as he pushed his car to go faster and faster, and yet the onyx horses were steadily closing the distance.  Soon the horses moved along the driver’s side of the vehicle where Dylan was able to see their blood red eyes and the smoke coming from their nostrils, then they passed him so that the carriage was now alongside the car. Death was sitting beside the driver on the side closest to the driver’s side of the car and pointed ahead.  The dead man looked and saw a curve in the road but was going too fast, he lost control of the car and wrecked.

Dylan was alive but barely, unable to move his head from facing the driver’s side window, he heard the carriage come to a halt.  Accepting his fate he looked up to see Death standing there.

In his gravelly voice Death told him, “You put up a good run boy, but no one escapes from me.”

When authorities arrived at the scene of a single car wreck, called in by a passing motorist, they expected to find the typical but gruesome scene and they did. The only thing they didn’t find was a body.  

Dylan had made an impression on Death, either with his bravery or stupidity, but it was an impression none the less.  And so Death took pity on the young man and decided to take him on as the new driver.  So now when Death’s carriage makes the rounds, a new, stiff pair of hands command the reins in place of the once withered hands.

[shadowlight17]

Shadow!! If you’re still taking prompts, could I please request tup and dogma, soft/sleepy cuddles (and maybe some smooches) after a long day? Thank you!!

I FINALLY MANAGED TO RESPOND! (shhh no one needs to know that it's 1AM on a Wednesday/Thursday lol) But here you are Agent!! I'm SO sorry that it took me this long to do!! But here we are :D

Tup was absolutely exhausted. Captain Rex had had them running drills from one end of the Resolute’s large hangar to the other since someone named Fives had decided to sass the Captain when he’d received an order. Dogma was a bit irritated at it, but Tup found he was, in a way, grateful for the 501st captain pushing them to be their absolute best.

That also meant they were extremely tired and dragging their feet. Dogma stopped at his bunk and looked over at Tup hopefully. Tup knew that look. Dogma wouldn’t ever actually ask, but he most certainly wanted it. Tup nodded a little and started to strip out of his armor, shifting as each piece of armor came off so that brothers could slide past him. He could hear a few of them groaning about being sore and Tup ignored them in favor of storing the kit and moving closer to Dogma, who still stood awkwardly next to his bunk in full kit.

“Dogma, you need a sonic.” Tup said quietly, knowing he needed one as well. Dogma made a face at that. Sonics were weird. The vibrations weren’t something Dogma liked, and Tup knew that.

“Snuggles afterwards.” Dogma bargained, causing Tup to crack a smile.

“Yes, Dogma. Snuggles.” Tup agreed.

Fifteen minutes later and Tup was trying to dry his hair. It wasn’t going very well, right up until Dogma’s hands flopped a towel over his head and started helping him dry it.

“Got your back.” The other trooper mumbled.

Tup had to smile at that. Tup’s hair dried as much as it was going to get and then Dogma was tugging Tup onto his bunk wordlessly. Dogma settled down and started to braid Tup’s hair, unbraiding it every time he was unhappy with how the braid had gone. Tup was starting to fall asleep with Dogma’s gentle fingers in his hair, and he might’ve drifted off at one point when Dogma’s lips brushed against his cheek. Tup turned his head with a quiet, sleepy hum to find Dogma’s lips right there. The kiss was soft and fleeting, as Dogma sometimes was himself. Tup gently pulled Dogma to his chest, smiling softly.

“Thanks for braiding my hair.” Tup whispered, laying them back, and planting a gentle kiss to Dogma’s forehead. Dogma merely hummed and closed his eyes, snuggling into Tup. This right here? This was what made it worth it to Tup. Hope you liked it, @agentequus!! Thank you ever so much for the prompt!

-Shadow

[shadowlight17]

Please please please may I request something adorable and cute of post citadel!EchoXFives!lives. I just want them to be happy and they are currently living rent free in my brain and I want to share it with others ☺️☺️☺️☺️

OOOOOKay. Yes, someone yell at me. School swallowed me whole and spat me out while I was only semi-digested, sooo I scraped myself off the ground to FINALLY FINISH PROMPTS!!! woot woot!! Inspired by my cold ass since it was SUPER windy and cold XD I've had this written for a WHILE. EchoXFives!lives post citadel!! Echo grumbled slightly as the edges of his prosthetic limbs ached. It was always the wet weather that had his amputated limbs aching with the metal that had been fixed to help him walk again.

Echo grumbled slightly as the edges of his prosthetic limbs ached. It was always the wet weather that had his amputated limbs aching with the metal that had been fixed to help him walk again. He stared down at the newer prosthetic. The one General Skywalker had made for him and smiled softly at the flesh hand that was holding the prosthetic, stimulating the artificial nerves so that they tingled. Fives was fast asleep. Thoroughly exhausted after another long day of bringing all of his evidence and collection of stuff before the council of inquiry after they’d found him following the trail he’d left Echo. Echo had known he could count on Fives. Fives was smart. He’d been so smart and Echo couldn’t have been prouder of his riduur. He was also thankful to Fox. Who’d scraped Fives off the floor and kept him safe until he could slip away. The scar from that particular encounter was pale against Fives’ tan chest and Echo shifted to brush his fingers against the edges of the raised skin. Fives mumbled something in his sleep and Echo couldn’t help the silly grin that tugged at his lips. The part where his fake arm connected to the stump of his flesh arm ached again and he grumbled, pulling back to rub at it. Fives stirred and Echo frowned. He hadn’t meant to wake Fives, but all coherent thought, including recognizing and registering the pain from his prosthetics fled as Fives’ mouth found his. Fives pulled away from the kiss slightly and mumbled into Echo’s mouth. “Why aren’t you sleeping, Ey’ika?”

He mumbled and Echo had to remember how to even function before he could respond. “My prosthetics hurt.” He said truthfully, knowing that Fives would always pick out a lie a mile away. They just knew each other too well. Which is why Echo had seen the signs Rex hadn’t. Had followed the trail that Rex hadn’t been able to see. And found Fives. Fives moved, gently pulling Echo to his chest. “I’m sorry, cyare. Can I help somehow?”He asked and Echo found himself listening to Fives’ heartbeat more than focusing on the pain. “Mm, this is nice.” Echo responded and he could feel Fives’ smile. “Good, it’s supposed to feel nice. To be nice. Now rest, Ey’ika. I’ve got you. And I’ll keep you safe, even if I can’t make the pain go away.” Fives said quietly and Echo couldn’t help but relax into his cyare’s arms. He knew Fives had him. Would always keep him safe. Now that they were together again. THERE YE HAVE IT - I am working through the prompts now!! Sorry to those of you to have been kept waiting so long!

[shadowlight17]

Jessix, "Not before I've had my caf."

Heyo!! Sorry it's taking me so long to get these writing prompt asks out!! College can be INSANE and I'm just finishing up midterms! XD The thing is here though!! Kix looked up as Jesse trotted through the mess, setting his datapad down and piling the reports next to him. He’d been up all night with a pretty sick vod and was just now able to take a break now that the vod was out of the danger zone. Unfortunately, that meant the day cycle was just beginning. And he was seeing his riduur run through with...were those...he didn’t want to know. He so did not want to know.

Kix looked up as Jesse trotted through the mess, setting his datapad down and piling the reports next to him. He’d been up all night with a pretty sick vod and was just now able to take a break now that the vod was out of the danger zone. Unfortunately, that meant the day cycle was just beginning. And he was seeing his riduur run through with...were those...he didn’t want to know. He so did not want to know. He turned to start on one of the reports when a shadow loomed over his datapads. “Hey cyare. Working on reports?” Jesse asked, sure chipper that morning, but then again, he probably hadn’t been awake the entire night cycle. “Yup.” Kix grumbled. Jesse hummed and tried to peer down at Kix’s work and Kix glared at him. “Sorry! Hey, so I was wondering if you-” Kix cut him off with another glare. “Not before I’ve had my caf.” Jesse chuckled and set a steaming cup of caf down on the table. “Already thought of that, dear. Now drink up, we need you to supervise our stupid karkery.” Jesse grinned and Kix sighed heavily, reaching for the caf. At least they were asking for help this time.

Poor Kix. He just needs his sleep!!

[shadowlight17]

Ooh any era…some Padawan Qui-Gon and Master Dooku bonding fluff?

ooooh I haven't written anything that's not like evil Dooku so this was fun!! Fair warning though: I have read nothing on these two’s relationship. So I’m going off of what I know as their characters later on. Qui-Gon is a brash and foolish young teen who wants to impress his master, but wants to impress him HIS way. And Dooku is someone who has to have stuff done HIS way. They bash heads, but care for each other regardless. That's kind of the characterization I'm going off of. :D ENJOY Qui-Gon Jinn frowned down at the plant he was supposed to be trimming. Master Dooku had called it a bonsai tree and said he could shape it any way he wished. But he’d sensed his Master’s disappointment as he’d cut away at the tiny tree. Had he done something wrong? He gently tilted the leaves and their carefully sculpted-ness and glanced over at Dooku’s own immaculate tiny tree. He sighed and pushed the tree to the side. “Master, what purpose does trimming a miniature tree have to do with anything?”

He asked, and almost immediately sensed Dooku’s irritation as Qui’s interruption caused the Master’s hand to slip and for him to clip a piece off the tree that he hadn’t intended to. Qui-Gon hung his head. “Sorry, Master.” He apologized quickly and the irritation faded away. “Don’t apologize, padawan. I was simply irritated because I cannot seem to get my tree to shape how I would like it. It was not any irritation at you, young one.” Dooku said, serene as always. He turned his wise eyes to the younger Jedi and a rare smile graced his face as he looked over at Qui’s tree. “Your tree looks lovely, Qui. The purpose is simple. To be able to be precise, and delicate with the tree while also having the focus and vision to know what the tree needs.” Dooku instructed, pointing to the little branches that Qui-Gon hadn’t cut. “You saw where the tree would be healthier if you left these branches, and now the tree is happier for your care of it.” Dooku said softly and Qui perked up at that. He’d done well? “You’ve done well, padawan. Take a break and go find your friends. They’ll want to hear about your progress in your saber classes, I imagine.” Dooku said and Qui hopped up from the table, bonking his knees into it and narrowly saving the bonsai plant. “Thank you Master!” He chirped out, bowing hurriedly and sprinting for the door. Dooku smiled at where Qui-Gon had left. They may have their differences, but it was easy to see why the Force had drawn them together. They were good for each other. Qui-Gon learned restraint, and Dooku...Dooku learned to let go sometimes. Thank you for the Prompt!!! Prompt requests are still open!! :D

[shadowlight17]

Hello Shadow, this is Shay from the discord server! 💖

How about a dialogue prompt?

Kix/Jesse

"I can't decide if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge!"

"Can I pick?"

HI SHAY!!! ooooh I like this one!! Love dialogue prompts!! Alriiight lets seee here. Straight up front for anyone else stumbling across this. Cloneshipping/Cloneship is IN THE TAGS :D Prompt #5: Kix/Jesse dialogue prompt --

Kix leaned back against the wall, thoroughly enjoying having a moment to breathe and looked up as Jesse stopped in front of him. Deliberately standing in front of the view Kix had been looking at. “Do you mind?” He grumbled and Jesse snorted out a laugh. “What? I’m better looking than that view. I’m doing you a favor.” He snorted and Kix couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Wow...I’m so thankful.” He said in a complete deadpan and Jesse turned back to him and winked cheekily. Kix had to pause to take in the very different sight of his cyare framed by the setting sun, silhouetted against it slightly, and Kix wished simultaneously that he could both see the sunset in all of its glory and also that he could see all of Jesse without the shadows hiding Jesse’s face. “I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge!” Kix breathed, not even meaning to say it out loud. He could barely see Jesse’s grin as the other clone came closer. Close enough that Kix could pick out the edges of Jesse’s tattoo. “Can I pick?” He asked, and Kix snorted out a laugh, getting cut off as Jesse leaned in to press a kiss to Kix’s startled mouth. Kix let go of his desire to see the sunset. There would be another one. It was better to enjoy the fleeting moment Jesse had just handed him. His hand came up to cradle the back of Jesse’s neck and he leaned into the kiss, both of them silhouetted by the sun. Given one moment of peace in a galaxy at war. -- Wooo!! ALSO, if anyone wants me to make a taglist for this or for other writing I might post, send me an ask or like @ or somEthing :D