#sots-adjacent

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Max's theme if he were a pirate king.

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

I actually rather enjoyed this, though it's basically non-stop violence, so if you're sensitive to that I don't recommend it.

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

So I got a Temu ad the other day and one part of it caught my eye...

I could totally see one of the twins buying seven of these for Nell's garden. 😂😂

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Thought you might be interested to know that I was trying to write a dialogue between Celegorm and kid!Aredhel (whom I headcanon to be a good deal younger than him) and realised it basically came out as Riser and Nikki xddd

😁😁😁

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Trinity Anon needs this:

https://youtu.be/KQLfgaUoQCw?si=gLXIM7qRAugN1Vnu

I'm not actually sure how relevant this is to the discussion but I'm going to go ahead and publish this anyway because of how OVER-POWERINGLY the heckling twins made me think of Russ and Red (middle-aged.)

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

iiiiiit's Talk Shop Tuesday! *flops down on the floor* This week I don't have any specific question, so tell me whatever you want to about Sons of the Star or Annaáuchiwee! What've you been chewing on or rotating in your brain? What do you do you want to talk about in regards to them?

(This ask also serves as your weekly pester for the SotS Girl Scout cookies story XD)

The next chapter will come, we're both just... swamped in real life right now, and it needs to undergo some pretty intensive editing that we just don't have time for at the moment.

(Other than that I've just been too tired to think recently. 🙇‍♀️)

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Sometimes I think I should get Sons of the Star published as a novel just so I can make an official category for it on AO3 so I can sort my fanfiction of my own story a little better.

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Look For The Star

One foot in front of the other, red dust puffing up at each step. A harsh sun glaring down on the unforgiving world below, scouring away impurities. The toddler on her back – a fraction of the weight he should be, she knows – gone silent hours ago. She hopes he’s sleeping, not dead. The infant in her arms listless and dull-eyed but breathing.

The wanderer had told her of a settlement out here. A city, rebuilt from ashes and dust, run by a man with hair like flame and a temper to match, an iron rule over the city. A place where she could be safe, where no one would rip her children from her, where they would not be sold into slavery or taken for unspeakable uses that make her skin crawl to think of.

It is a bleak world, a harsh world, and a cruel world, now. The weak die or are preyed on. A city where a lone woman and her children can be safe sounds like a dream, a fantasy, a fading memory of days past. It is every manjack for himself out here, and predators survive while prey dies.

But the wanderer had promised. Had given her detailed directions. Maybe it was a prank. A cruel joke from the man brave and stupid enough to take on these trackless wastes alone. Send her and her children out to die in the desert, chasing an empty hope. But even an empty hope, a fool’s hope, was better than no hope, which is what she’d had before.

He had promised. Had told her to look for the black flag with the white star, had turned to show her the back of his jacket. Look for the star. He’s under the star. You’ll be safe there.

She squinted against the shimmering mirage waves over the sand and dirt. A dark blotch on the distant horizon. Right where the wanderer had said the city would be. Look for the star.

Another weary step. A small scour of dust on a rag-wrapped ankle. Another step. Another. Closer. Look for the star. Look for the black banner with the white star. Look for the star…