#LOA star wars

[echoing-locations]

I’m sick so take shit posts ft Joetetee and morning frost

[crustycrackhead]

Star Wars Au x Ouaw

Simply because Morning Frost would love it, like he would slay in the Jedi outfit

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

Surprise small PAC

For some positivity today, please select one of the three following groups. Let your eyes draw naturally to one of the items in the picture, or your mind to stick on one, two or three.

Left to right, group one is a peacock badge. Group 2 is a woo-hoo badge. Group three is a symbol pendant.

___________________________

_____________________

Group one:

Affirmation: I am brave. Shows a picture of Leia from star wars.

I take action to define my role in the story. I rebel against expectations and forge my own path.

Affirmation: I am optimistic. Shows a picture of rose from star wars.

When everything seems lost, I never lose sight of what's really important. I always fight to save the things I love.

For some reason I see a need to express yourself in the way you look or dress. Take the leap if you've been contemplating a change. This could just be a metaphor though, in regards to being yourself despite expectations that are set upon you. This could be confirmation to never give yourself up, at least not in your heart, even if you have to pretend in front of a family member, or less crucial people. You are not lost just because you had to hide for a time. You are always there, and important even if no one tells you. Keep going so that you can express yourself, or do what's most important or what you love most. Never let anyone define you or tell you who you are, never believe them, not in your heart of hearts.

______________

Group two:

Activity: Don't look to others to give you the hope that you will succeed. That hope is already inside of you. Shows a picture of Leia in a later star wars film.

"Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you see it, you'll never make it through the night."

Notice the number on the card is 22. You may be seeing repeating numbers as signs from spirit. Maybe this number is a birthday or age. This is likely to remind you that you have everything inside you already that you need. You don't need permission to do the things that are important to you, either. You may also not be getting reassurance from spirit in the way you might want regarding a desire or activity or goal. This isn't to say you wouldn't do well, or that it's not a good idea. It's more that you are the most important judge in your life, and faith in what you can't see is such a strength. Let it carry you. Your life is yours to lead, and your actions need to be what you're most happy with.

_________________

Group three:

Eat something new. What seems different or unusual to you right now might end up being your new favourite flavor. Shows a picture of jabba the hutt looking smug as ever.

This is probably a green light to give into a craving, or allow yourself a treat. Perhaps there has been a difficulty with diet, health or perception regarding food. Perhaps there is guilt, or perhaps someone here is a picky eater. You really never know until you try if something could be a new comfort food. Life includes enjoyment, let yourself enjoy.

_______________________

Hope you enjoyed 🌟

[anomaly-vee]

nikkie’s animal crossing talk got me thinking… has anyone acnh-ified the LoA characters yet? i mean like- THE POTENTIAL IS THERE

[tomfoolerytime]

My Jedi youngling Ocs!

We have Mala-ki Memenwa she/her an iridonian zabrak, Loa he/him a torindsaanan human variant, and Kalitkal Dzhwe she/him a human. They are all a part of Tauntaun Dog Clan.

We also see the full range of youngling foot wear of socks, boots, and nothing. Kali is gross don’t be like Kali. Most Jedi wear shoes some wear tabi shoes but Mala-ki is just wearing normal tabi socks.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC Prompt: Amnesia Danny learns a lot more about himself than he ever did before.

Danny ends up with amnesia after a recent ghost fight that landed him straight into the Kent's family farm.

He had no reason not to believe he must be an alien too- from Ma and Pa's reactions to his powers to his acceptance into hero circle.

That is until he met Jon's friend Damian- who recognized him immediately. Was he not from space? Despite his love of stars- if he wasn't from space then where did he come from?

When he slowly discovers more and more of his past nothing makes sense. What version of his past is true? Who was he? Why did so many people claim to know him?

He hoped he can figure it out soon before a war develops between fractions that lay claim to him.

(not demon twins but perhaps siblings ;3 or some secret third thing) Below just continuation of my thoughts I posted on discord ;3

Just makes me think the more Danny learns something else throws a wrench into! Like- Imagine he starts learning about the LOA and what Damian knows- then bam GIW are claiming Danny's hero persona- to be Phantom.

And everything keeps going down a rabbit hole.

Even ghosts or perhaps the ghost he was fighting that caused this confronts him to- or to the media at large. Revealing something else to him. Perhaps it was dan or a version of- or its Plasmius

Or a new ghost entirely with ties to that.

Or could add ghost king to really mess with stuff- and its Pariah wanting his crown back.

Just so many ways to make this into a shit show.

Danny's friends and sister getting involved too- happy to see Danny safe- but Danny just confused.

His brain hurts and he's at a lost at who he is.

Even worse if his dna did show him as part alien. So his world is flipped on its head even once he remembers himself- or the part of himself he knows the most.

I think it would be a fun idea to play with. Creating more and more mystery. And by the time Danny gets some idea- something else happens.

LOA is pissed, GIW are too- Ghost problem is ramping up - everyone wanting to take claim to Danny and Danny just wants to know who he is and how stop the fighting.

But imagine Danny getting acceptance from the league- and maybe they finally get answers who Danny's parents are- why does he have alien dna Danny actually going through puberty with his powers same time as his accident so he never knew and imagine Danny saves the world and becomes into himself. He still doesn't have all the answers but he has enough to know WHO he is- and he's not going to let others taint that image for him.

He's sure he'll find out more as time comes but for now- he's who he strives to be. it definitely be such a big ass story but it would be fun to play with different identities maybe a few red herrings if you want to be extra- but i think just even knowing all of danny's identities be interesting. how people have perceived him to what he actually has done and was. maybe before they use slade to make respawn they experimented with another hero dna or an alien dna in general that was unfortunate to cross their path- and the two grew up together- but found Damian's compassion towards the other as a hindrance. maybe booster gold or impulse know danny from the future due to time travel and/or how he was seen. or if anyone from bad time line before traveling back only remember Dan. ewe luckily Ma and Pa kent supporting Danny through this and protecting him- bats too

So he isn't all on his own but he's certainly confused.

Imagine they help him the most in accepting who he is.

[msallurea]

Things to manifest because you can pt 2 🎀🧁🌸

Becoming a top model

Sex appeal/pole dancer abilities

Be super strong/fast

Be a famous supermodel

Turning into a fairy on command

Having a fairy godmother/godfather

Being a mermaid/siren

Having your desired beauty

Ability to talk to nature/animals/being a natural bug repellant

Easily remembering trillions of info easily

Never ever failing at anything

Waking up with the perfect hairstyle/outfit

Being a master manifestor/shifter

Controlling time

Being able to grab stars out the sky and turn it to jewelry pieces

Making constellations move

Becoming a queen/king/princess/prince

Having perfect vision

Having magical abilities

Never being sick

Healing global warming

Healing worldwide diseases/sicknesses

Immunity to bullying, abuse, etc, others being immune to bullying abuse etc

Racism/colorism/misogyny/texturism/evil capitalism/negativity/war/slavery/abuse in power/terrible government n school systems/segregation/poverty/workd hunger/mass genocides/shootings/killings/generational trauma etc never existing/erased (my black and POC sisters and brothers in this LOA community baby it's time to stand up but generally just everyone we are all entitled to live in peace as human beings)

That's all folks, I love you darling stay tuned for more ♡ also I need more post ideas comment for any suggestions!

[readychilledwine]

Okay I have like a slightly out of pocket request/idea that I don’t think I’ve seen before and if this is not your cup of tea you can straight up IGNORE but it’s taken over my brain 😂 let’s pretend in this story that eris and mor are mates but it’s a rejected situation bc obvs mor isn’t into males. And helion and the lady of autumn are also mates. This is post Hybern, maybe during or after ACOSF. Beron (I know ew right but stay with me now) ends up finding HIS mate. And she’s like the sweetest thing ever and she’s terrified of him. (Beron is infatuated with her because of whatever power she may have but he’s still an asshole don’t get me wrong this is not a beron redemption request) It becomes public knowledge that beron found his mate and he plans on marrying her. eris REFUSES to let another female be subjected to what his mother went through so this is what spurs the whole murder beron and become high lord plot. I have no thoughts on what happens between but eris succeeds and becomes high lord in the end, but falls in love with beron’s mate during the process and it’s mutual love and it’s angst with a happy ending. Usually fated mates is my jam but I just needed every mating bond to go wrong in this one LOL. Except for Helion and LoA of course 🫡

A Game of Fate

Eris Week - Day 7 - Free Day

Summary - After the bond between Beron Vanserra and Eris's hidden lover makes itself known, the cycle of tyranny in Autumn is put to the test

Warnings - assassination, poison, Beron, mentions of abuse, food and sleep deprivation, beron x reader mating bond.

A/n - I've been holding on to this, and I am so sorry 😭. I played with it a little bit, but I this ultimately was the version I am happiest with! Happy last day of @erisweekofficial . It feels like I'm like leaving a long-distance friend after too short of a visit.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

The Cauldron was wrong. Eris understood Azriel's claim in every sense now. The Cauldron had to be wrong.

There was no other explanation for why his father was currently signing papers to end his marriage because you were his mate. Sweet, kind, soft spoken you. You dreamed of far-off places, peace. You once told Eris you liked to imagine what the stars whispered to each other late at night.

You were a dreamer, and you were his. Eris had hidden you in plain sight since you became his peace. You were there for him after Mor rejected the bond. You were there for him after every beating, and you loved him through everything.

And now your father had to go and ruin it. You were 505 years old, and he finally felt the need to present you as a lady to the court to be married off however Beron saw fit.

If it was a massive payout your father wanted, he had it. Everyone knew what had happened the second the High Lord of Autumn laid eyes on you. The reactions ranged from jealousy to sympathy to shock. And now, two months later, the reaction was silence.

Without even speaking, you had changed the course of Autumn's history. You had ruined Helion, Rhys, and Eris's plans. You had freed his mother at the cost of yourself and your safety. Your words behind those closed doors would haunt Eris until he died, "I will marry you only if Lady Autumn is freed and allowed to leave to wherever she sees fit, safely and with your blessing."

Eris sighed as the other two High Lords, the inner circle, and his brothers all sat in Helion's war room. Eris's boots banged with each anxious and angry step, "Any ideas," he asked. "I would have to outright declare a blood duel now, which requires gaining the support of the rest of the courts beforehand, and we do not have time for that."

"We can not declare war," Rhysand contemplated. "No other court had claim to the girl, and you have no known claim to her."

"Even if he did, Autumn court law says the mating bond trumps it," Eris's mother, Anala, said. "Especially when it is between two members of the Autumn Court. Our laws allow males to claim their mates without her accepting the bond."

"Well if that isn't misogynistic-"

"Let me know when you actually ban wing clipping, and you can bash my court's laws," Anala spat at Rhysand. "You know, as well as I do change doesn't come overnight with a dictator."

Rhysand blinked at the former Lady of Autumn before glancing at Helion. You entered the room at that moment. The air seemed to tense as you did, but Eris rushed to you, holding your elbows. "Are you alright?"

Beron has been trying to manipulate you for weeks. He played games with your mind no long talks with Eris could prepare you for. Beron was a monster, and this was only your second week continuously being with him.

Helion stared to his love, his long lost mate, and stood, "Give me a week with your mother, and I will do it." The silence was screaming as the former Lady of Autumn shook her head. "There are no other answers, my love." Helion knew the look in Eris's eyes, the ache, the desperation, and the struggle.

He knew immediately what you were to Eris and what you could be to Autumn. Helion, much like Eris, knew he could not let you fall victim next, but you had no intentions to. He had watched his mate suffer for far too long, and the rumors of Beron's so-called adoration for the female in front of him did not mask the concern the Lord of Day felt.

You and Eris held eye contact. The room noticed the wordless communication. It was a bond that could only have been built through love, trust, and years of understanding. "I can not risk you like that."

"I would be careful," your reply was so soft but filled with confidence. "He won't even know if we use small amounts."

Eris couldn't help but hold your arms a little tighter, "I will not risk you." His eyes were pleading for you to reconsider to think this through.

"Would anyone mind including the rest of us in this... touching conversation?" Rhysand picked a piece of lint off his jacket before crossing his arms.

You spoke before Eris could, "There is a plant that grows in a certain place. It is highly poisonous and undetectable. The symptoms are no worse than an allergy. It can cause death within 2 weeks."

You watched as Anala shook her head at Helion, "I know of no such poison."

"That's because I made and grow it," Eris flinched at your admission and the questions it would bring.

Helion started to laugh, "You made it?"

Eris glared at the Day Lord, "y/n has a certain.. gift.. from the Mother."

"I can combine poisons," you rolled your eyes at Eris playfully. "Create new ones with no antidote or cures." Rhys and Helion turned to each other, clearly not assumed by the new information. "I only used it once. And they deserved it."

Anala's whiskey eyes went wide, "The human smuggler. You killed him?"

"Eris did. I just provided the supplies."

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eris, why was this information not provided to any of us earlier? Do you understand how useful she is?" You shook your head toward the red-haired male. He seemed to calm down instantly at the sight of you. "Ah, I see. She's your lover. Not just your friend."

His mother seemed stunned at this information, "But Morrigan?"

You flinched at the mention of her name. "Has the same taste as I do, mother," Eris was only looking at you. "And I do not support this idea," his grip on your arms grew tighter. "He is not a common idiot."

"Nor am I," you declared. "I would be smart. I'll be close enough to him to make sure he gets it every day. Even after just a week-"

Rhysand finished, "He'd be weak enough to call an emergency meeting or for one of us to declare the blood duel."

You nodded at the Lord of Night, not even stopping to admire his dark beauty with the grace of Autumn and Mother Nature stood before you in Eris's eyes. There was no world where you planned to be without him, no world where you could see yourself in arms besides his.

But for a week you would not have a choice. For a week, you would play the part you were expected to, and it began before you even had breakfast the next day. You were woken up by two handmaiden ripping you from your bed in the former Lady of Autumn's private chambers and throwing your half awake and now naked self into a bath.

Every inch of you was scrubbed almost raw before your hair was washed and scented to Beron's preference of roses. You were dried and dressed in almost no time, the heavy traditional gown feeling like shackles on your figure.

No cotton dresses if this failed.

No more nights in Eris's sweaters and nothing else.

Once your hair and makeup we're finished, you were not taken to breakfast. You were taken to lessons. Beron had assumed you knew nothing of formality, nothing of etiquette. You had not been presented to his courts, so what other assumption could he have made as you were retaught the differences in dinning utensils.

You would not see food until that even came, and then the mood quickly fizzled away as the table for two was filled. The only sound in the room was meat being cut, your breathing. You knew not to speak before the High Lord addressed you. You knew he was testing you with silence.

You did not see Eris in this male. There was no sign of the life that burned in Eris's eyes. No freckle of Beron's seemed to mimic the night sky the way Eris's did. There was nothing special to you about Beron Vanserra. Not even the bond was strong enough to make you want him.

"How were your lessons," his voice was falsely sweet. "I assume based on your manners they went well."

"They were lovely, High Lord," you responded. "A good refresher for everything my mother had already taught me."

Beron glanced at you, "Are you inferring you did not appreciate me setting you up with the finest tutor in my court?"

Eris would be whispering to you to tread carefully. Beron's very body language told you this was beginning to enter dangerous territory. "No, my lord," you said softly, "But I would hate for you to waste time and resources on me when I am sure there are better things to put them towards."

Beron leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he cocked his head, "You know how to play. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy breaking you, mate."

And you thoroughly enjoyed watching him drink the whiskey laced with 3 drops of poison.

The next day was different. Beron himself was dragging you places without food right away this morning. He was showing you off to different advisors all day, bragging about your beauty, your ability to manipulate flowering and fruiting plants into harvests sooner.

You had used your magic so much to show off for him that you could hardly stand as he affectionately held your chair out for dinner. "You did wonderfully today," he began eating after forcing you to say a prayer to the Mother.

He didn't get to hear the silent plea you sent her. The silent begging for mercy.

You sid get to hear him start coughing as he drank his tainted whiskey that night, though.

Eris was worried for you the third day. You had been sent to bed late, awoken early. Once again, not allowed food. He had stayed by your and Beron's side in meeting that day.

His amber eyes never left your form. He was openly staring at the way you couldn't help but lean on Beron in your exhausted state.

And when Beron stole you for dinner, Eris made sure to add extra poison to his drink, watching as you played the part of the perfect mate, rushing to help him as he began to cough up blood.

Illness among the fae was rare, but when it struck, it was deadly. By the end of day 4, the Forest House was a much quieter place. Beron was bed bound due to Eris's choice to expose him to the poison morning, noon, and night.

You had warned him that this poison was aggressive in large doses. He had also tested it on more brutal lesser fae tracking to attack innocent children to see that. It was brutal, focusing on getting into the smallest cells of blood before shutting down major organs quickly and painfully. You were sat beside his father, crying, playing the part, and Eris beside you, a distraught son.

Day 5 Eris slipped the poison in a high dose into Beron's pain medication before finding you. He had cornered you into a hall closet. You had been forced from bed far too early again, forced to skip meals again.

Eris knew this tactic. Had Beron been healthy, he would continue this until your brain associated Beron's presence with food. It was a way to make you comply, to rely on him.

Eris put an end to it right that moment. He ordered you to be given food, then rest. His father refused the tea Eris offered him that night. Took weak to even open his eyes.

You had underestimated yourself and your powers, or perhaps the smug male above you had more to with it than he let on, bit day 7, Beron was unresponsive. Eris held you down on the bed you two had shared so many times before, kissing your neck and whispering words of how he'd move the very foundations of this world for you when the knock came on his door.

He quickly hid you, allowing a healer to enter. Eris faked his reaction perfectly. He fell to his knees with a strangled cry, hand on his heart as the healer moved to comfort the young heir.

Beron was unresponsive.

And by night fall, Eris truly fell over. His very blood felt as if liquid fire had been poured into him. His hearth grew brighter, hotter.

It wasn't until your heart-wrenching scream came that Eris knew without doubt what had happened. No one had prepared for the outcome of you losing your mate. No one had even questioned what it would do.

They had been so focused on saving you that they had forgotten the most important part of the bond, Beron was the other half of your soul. Grief. Guilt. Joy. Anger. You had never felt like this. You had never imagined a world where you could feel so deeply it ached and made you sick.

You pushed healers away as you held Beron's hand. You pushed Eris away as he came to kneal beside you. You didn't want to feel this, yet you did. You did as he forced you up and out of the room. You did as Beron's body was burned before his ashes were given to the trees. You did as you watched Eris take his place.

The grief only stopped when Eris concerned you that night, his hands on your hips, and he led you to another room where a separate celebration took place. Anala stood in Day Court attire, laughing as Helion dipped her, laughing as Lucien smiled at her from across the room, Elain safely tucked to his side.

Eris's middle brother stood dancing with his male lover, the two of them just swaying. Mor was there with Emerie, lips by her ear gossiping. "I ache too at times," Eris looked at her, a longing in his eyes as he did. "I wonder if I made the right choice to let her go on my loneliest nights. Then I see you."

Eris kissed your knuckles, "I see you, and I regret nothing. Not even what I did in secret."

You looked at him then, "Eris?"

"I stole the black poison. The one you never tested. Every time he and I ate together, I slipped him that one as well."

Your face fell, "You-"

"Weren't going to risk it. Not with the female I am in love with being involved," Eris drank his wine slowly as he studied your reaction.

"So no big fight needed?"

"Oh, trust me, I wanted that," he clarified. "I didn't realize it would work as quickly as it did. I wasn't sure what you had been crafting. He died before I could challenge him, but before he could break you."

The two of you continued watching Helion and Anala, continued watching Lucien and Elain, his brother, Mor.

The grief did linger, but as you took his hand, it faded more. "Let's go dance, High Lady," he whispered into your ear.

And with each spin, every dip, the raise in laughter, the ache continued to fade.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[mycatishandsome]

How I Shift: a step-by-step

So to start, I want to remind ya'll that what works for me, can and wil work for you, if you assume it will.

For context, I like to believe that the multiverse theory is true, but like mixing it in with the LOA (3D/4D/etc.) theory. I could sit here all day and talk and talk about those theories, but that's not what this post is about. If you scroll on my blog, you'll find plenty of posts that can do it better than I.

SO, where do we begin?

1.) As an obvious start, it's good to pick where it is you'd like to shift/ what you'd like to shift into this "reality". It's not super necessary, but it's great to reaffirm where it is your going/what you're bringing in.

2.) I like shifting at night (like most others), so before a shift, something I'll do is carve out a bit of time to go through my Pinterest boards. This is a great way to visualize what you want (what you technically already have) This is also great for my non-visualizers (or just those who have trouble doing it on the spot). it's a great way to reaffirm.

3.) Then depending on my DR, I'll choose an ambiance sound that is related (for example: star wars-space/ship sounds, harry potter-train sounds, pirates??? ships creaking/wind)(also sounds can be super broad, like rain/thunderstorm sounds) personally, I feel like ambience is crazy helpful for me (as I assume it is).

-The way I see it, and how I use it: The sounds I'm hearing ambiance wise, are the sounds I hear in my DR as well. They will not distract me! I have animals and loud roommates. Rather than sit there and get annoyed, i think to myself, "wow my house mates are rowdy tonight" in my DR. I apply those sounds TO my DR. This goes for the ambiance as well!

4.) At this point, I then pick how I'm going to meditate. So because I have autism, I tend to use the same two mediations because it's what I'm comfortable with (and they help me the best!) I'll tag them here :)

I start with this one: Law of Assumption meditation

Then listen to this one immediately after: Law of Assumption Meditation part 2

I listen to these one after the other using an app called musi. I set them to a timer so i don't have to stop a playlist or anything, just set it and go!

5.) I sometimes strait up fall asleep and shift, and sometimes i shift during these meditations. It often depends on how my mind set is, as sometimes I've had a tough day, or i just can't stop thinking about the exam i have tomorrow. Generally when I feel like this, I listen to another meditation before these other two. I don't have a specific one to link, i usually just look up 10 minute meditations. These will usually help me to relax and empty my mind.

Notice how none of these are shifting meditations. if you think it will work for you, then it will! I've always found that even when i was in the right mindset, shifting meditations were very.....not what shifting is. I always felt like they played against what i was trying to achieve. I'm sure there are some that are great and incredibly helpful!! I personally just haven't found that one yet. Shifting is generally simple, and to the point, there's no need to use complicated steps. (ONCE AGAIN, UNLESS you find they work for you! in your reality they may work just fine!)

I hope this helps, or at the very least gives some of ya'll some ideas on what to try!

Happy shifting!

[lovemyromance]

Oh my god enough about Elain wanting sunshine 😩

Let's run through some facts (and if you don't believe these are facts, please open the books for the first time and read it for yourself):

Elain says she wants sunshine

Nesta takes her to the sunny garden

Lucien does not sit with Elain in the garden

Lucien has one uncomfortable conversation with Elain

He says she needs fresh air (not sunlight)

Lucien has ALWAYS been associated with fox and flame symbolism/motifs (NOT the sun, not "light" in general)

We do not know if the IC (including Nesta) tried to take Elain outside before Feyre arrived.

Feyre & Rhys believe Lucien is the love child of LoA & Helion

There are 3 SOLAR courts: Dawn, Day, and Night. They ALL have sunlight

Helion is the HL of the Day Court. He is the only one in this series that has sun imagery. Not his court, not Lucien.

The NC crest is 3 mountains, 3 stars. The NC crest is NOT a moon.

We do not know the Day Court crest, or if they have one. Who is to say it would even include the sun?

Azriel was not present in the scene where Elain said she needed sunshine

Azriel, unprompted, takes her to sit in the sunny garden. How did he know what she needed without hearing her voice it?

Azriel even after the war, still sits with her till the late hours of the night, going over Elain's gardening plans

Now, out of these facts, can someone tell me how this foreshadows Elucien? If we are using that logic of Elain wanting sunshine, then are y'all trynna say she wants Helion or something?

Because how is saying she wants sunshine in any way related to Lucien personally?

She said she wants the sun, not the son 🤪 (side note I'm really proud of this one I'm sorry I'm so unserious lmao)

ANYWAYS

An endgame pairing can be foreshadowed, but the clues have to be directly associated with the couple in question.

Ex: Feyre looking up at the night sky, painting the drawers

But foreshadowing of an endgame is not going to be some distant tie between Elain asking for sunlight once and her mate's father being associated with the sun.

Sometimes descriptive writing... is just descriptive writing.

When it comes to giant fantasy books like these with intense world building, a lot of things can get lost in translation. You need a lot more description because what the author is describing likely isn't something that exists in our world today so it's hard for people to picture and understand.

So then how do readers know what to focus on? How do they understand and process books like these?

I saw this a while back but when it comes to fantasy, the rule of thumb is if you are really looking for clues and foreshadowing vs just descriptive writing, look at what the author is repeating.

Repetition is key.

Repeated words, repeated phrases, repeated messages, repeated imagery - these are all ways you can tell something is important, especially in fantasy books.

So - in conclusion -

Elain saying she needs sunlight ONCE is not foreshadowing or code for "she yearns for Helion The day Court Lucien"

SJM constantly repeating how Elain will wed for love and beauty, Elain had hoped that love would trump even a mating bond, the constant questioning of the cauldron -

These are the things SJM is telling us to focus on. If it wasn't important, it wouldn't have been repeated so many times already.

Facts don't lie, people 🤩

[nuclearbleu]

May the 4th be with you

Mando Gideon based off @echoing-locations LOA Star Wars au

[echoing-locations]

A simple supply run

YIPPIE LOA STAR WARS!!!

(This is probably one of my most detailed drawings and you can barely see half of it :D)

[that-one-enby-kid]

People finding it shocking that the loa crew are related/married/whatever is so funny to me because it's exactly how my family is structured

Like most of my aunts and uncles are people who my dad played DND with in college or highschool, either that or they happened to be equally nerdy about star wars

[99aceace]

I bet Tech and my OC Jaspar Loa would be friends. They would just tinker and infodump for hours together.

Anyway, I'm not dead. Just recently, I'm drawing mostly not Star Wars content

[glittering-moonlillie]

Tightrope (Damian Wayne x LOA! Reader)

Warnings: Heavy mentions of abuse, a few curse words. I made this more hurt comfort rather than angst, I'm sorry :<

Summary: Ever since the both of you were younger, you taught Damian the importance of hope and - even if it took years - he was more than happy to help you believe in it again. 

Word Count: 4085

Hope; it was the essence that life was built upon, the attribute that humans cling to in times of despair and grief. It was the shining light at the end of the dark tunnel, the soldier who - with gritted teeth - flipped off the dictator of life and continued to fight, bloodied, bruised and all. 

All you ever did was hope: hoped for a brighter future, hoped for control, hoped to explore and create rather than neglect and diminish. Whether it was in the middle of training, while you were sleeping, or studying, hope was the hidden deity you worshiped with every fiber of your little body. 

As you grew older, it was apparent that you were not born in the correct body. Your mother was a top assassin in an organization called The League of Assassins. She was taught to be a ruthless killer in order to serve the League’s higher purpose - to achieve balance in the world and create environmental harmony through slaughtering most of humanity. Instead of crafting, she helped to steal the lives of thousands, ripping them away from the world with precision. 

It was a responsibility of your mothers to be “the fang that protected the head,” which now meant it was your responsibility as well. From an early age, you were shaped to be a weapon. Your mother’s hands carefully molded your clay body, her expert hands knowing what ridges to smooth and what areas to sharpen. 

But the clay was too stubborn, too hard for her to mold perfectly, and resulted in a dull clump that was useless. One could imagine the disappointment of your mother, who served to be Talia’s right hand woman. When you were born, everyone expected you to have the same instinctual skill as your mother - the ability to contort into the shadows like a lethal chameleon with the ease of a slithering cobra, not to be some mindless dreamer. 

You were useless in combat compared to your mother; the grip on your weapon would always waver and your feet would sway at the thought of killing someone. You always ended up being one of the first spotted in the League’s version of Hide and Seek and subsequently faced harsh punishment. Logically, you weren’t the most competent war strategist either. Sure, you weren’t an idiot, but planning a tactical win against a horde of ninja’s was not your forte. 

And you would never be able to calculate the trajectory you would need to throw a shuriken in order for it to slice someone’s neck. 

A people pleaser at heart, you certainly tried your best to be who your mother wished you to be. Despite your heart wanting to hurdle itself away into the night sky so it could be at peace with the stars, it was trapped in this monstrous clay construction, doomed to kill - doomed to serve. 

Wake up. 

Train. 

Eat. 

Train. 

Meditate. 

Study.

Train. 

Eat.

Shower. 

Sleep. 

Repeat. 

Life was a broken record, repeating its meaningless tune to an empty audience. So you hoped. You eagerly wished for some sort of reprieve, searched for a meaning more than destruction with frantic hands and wild eyes until you struck gold. Soon, your hope bloomed into a boy. 

Damian was the son of Talia Al Ghul, with a soft face and forest green eyes, the raven black hair atop his head swooping to the right. He shouldered the weight of his family, his legacy and it showed. His confidence was as lustrous as an emerald. By the age of nine, he could easily take down every single member of the league (with the exception of his family) and had the tactical brilliance of Sun Tzu. 

Damian was not known for his kindness, no one in the League was. You were all raised to be merciless killers, mercy would only display weakness and get yourself killed. Damian seemed to detest everyone in the League, so it puzzled you as to why someone like him decided to show you kindness. 

Due to your inept nature, most leaguers often mocked you for your incompetence in battle. Their insults were displayed on your body like intricate cave paintings. Damian was the only exception, the radiant diamond that made you feel like the luckiest person. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or sympathy, but he quickly became your one and only friend. 

His touch was delicate, as if he were grasping at the stem of a dandelion in order to preserve a wish. Words fell out of his mouth like an uplifting melody. Damian made it his personal mission to train you himself, if not to serve the League, than to at least protect yourself properly. You made it your mission to instill the same hope that burned through your bloodstream.

Training sessions that were filled with monochrome decay suddenly overflowed with special secrets and inside jokes between you and Damian - stories shared, wishes whispered, and dreams dreamt in the massive room that instantaneously felt too cramped. It felt like stealing bits and pieces of your childhoods back, simultaneously feeling enough yet not enough at all. 

The first genuine smile Damian gave you felt like you were just given the keys to a whole kingdom. There was something so uniquely special about it, as if you just discovered the end of a rainbow. He had a couple of missing teeth that you assumed would grow back in a few months, eyes crinkling for what seemed to be the first time ever. 

You expressed to him your desire to leave behind the legacy of your mother, to become a leaf swept up by the wind instead of being the bark that stubbornly grew its roots in one spot since at least the leaf would experience more of life than the tree ever will, even if it becomes brittle rust within a few days. 

More than anything, you wished to be swept away by the wind, the tide, anything would do really. 

He confided that he, deep down, wished to spend his days painting and growing a menagerie of rescued animals instead of living in the shadow of his mother and grandfather. But unlike you, he was also committed to proving himself and making a difference. He was the very best of the best, and his talent would be wasted if he were just a measly painter. 

Just as he trained you to fight properly, you encouraged him to pursue what he wanted, even if it went against everything else he was taught. 

After a few years of growing with each other, blossoms of a strong admiration and affection began to develop. Despite knowing loving him would face scorn, it was hope that made you believe you had a chance.

“I promise you, when I am in charge, you will be able to leave this place anytime you please.” He said to you, giving you that wicked smirk he always did when he was awfully proud of himself.  

  Damian covertly fashioned a simple promise band that day. It was made of softened branches, braided with the delicacy of hair. Tangled between the braids were small baby’s-breath, winking at you as the sun illuminated their features. He slipped it on your ring finger, as if it was a proposal, as if the two of you had a choice all along. 

The ring used to be a sign of innocent childhood romance, the physical embodiment of your hope. You used to clutch it tightly, wearing it with pride wherever you went, not knowing that life was sneaking up behind you to violently snatch it away with its bony hands and cold grasp. 

Now it just hung loosely around your neck, tucked underneath your clothes and hidden from the sunlight. You had walked the fine line between hope and delusion and it was only when Damian left that you realized you had been worshiping gods who would never hear your pleas. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gotham city twinkled under the guidance of the waxing moon, and for a moment, it almost looked beautiful. But it was a city where crime never slept, where screams echoed and smog filled the air. It was a constant reminder of why Damian will keep fighting, even if his body aches, even if he is beaten down time and time again. 

His purpose was to protect and save people, and he would do so even if it killed him. He was so eager to succeed, to strive and be better that it sometimes blinded him. But it was better than facing failure; it tasted of rotten fruit and bitter mugmort and he was not jumping at the chance to taste it again. Letting someone die was worse than making the choice to kill someone. 

Perched on one of the gargoyles, the stone withering from the constant downpours, Damian allowed himself to be consumed by the thought of you. You never belonged somewhere like the League of Assassins, and Damian used to find it amusing. A group of highly skilled killers and one girl who only longed to be a professional dreamer, to soar the skies instead of being trapped in a steel cage - a girl that reminded him that there was more to life than just fulfilling a legacy. The last time he talked to you was almost a decade ago. He recalls the exact way your smile disappeared, the way the sunlight in your eyes was swept away by dark, foggy clouds. 

Remembers how he swore to come back for you, only to be told you were killed right before he came back. Heartbreak consumed him then and it only worsened with time. Despite lashing out on everyone, Damian knew deep down it was his fault. 

That is why he fights. 

But tonight, Gotham was mostly quiet. Damian’s shoulders fell as he let the rain wash over him, letting the tension melt away. The night was growing old and since there was nothing amiss, he decided it best to retire for the night. 

Making sure not to misstep, Damian got up and lifted himself onto the rooftop of the industrial building, gripping the grappling hook and preparing to swing himself to safety. 

The hook latched into the darkened building, allowing Damian to swing across. Tainted air filled his lungs, settling into his body with a delicate sting, wind whipping angrily through his hair. It was the closest Damian ever felt to flying, to touching the same blue canvas you wished to be a part of. 

A loud snap ripped through the air, and before Damian could react, he was rolling on the floor and bumping into a putrid dumpster. Damian grimaced. The pavement sweated with grime, making it more of an  inconvenience for him to jump back up and assess the damage done. 

The cord of the grappling hook had split in two but the cut seemed too precise with the frayed ends sticking up equally, meaning that the rope did not just snap; it must have been cut with something sharp enough to slice through enhanced nylon. 

Damian dropped the rope and slinked back into the corner, his eyes squinting through the dark. He watched the shadows cautiously and slowed his breath to a faint whisper; the grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned a pale white. 

There was a faint scurrying to his right, almost like a rat or another small rodent but the weight of each step did not match. The light steps progressively got louder, allowing Damian to step into the correct fighting stance. 

He caught the small shuriken between his fingers as it whirled towards his face “Tt, whoever you are, you are absolutely terrible at sneaking up on people.” He tossed the weapon to the grimy floor. “Reveal yourself.”

A person languidly stepped out from the darkness -  a walking shadow - with the only light reflected being from the glint of a palm sized weapon, most likely a dagger. Judging from the person’s curves and movement, he assumed they were a woman. If this was his mother’s doing, this would have been the first time she sent a woman after him. 

“Who are you?” He inquired, voice coarse and echoing across the walls of the alleyway. Instead of an answer, he was met with the sudden charge from the inexperienced assassin who’s blade barely grazed his cheek. Damian grabbed the woman’s forearm and twisted it, using his other arm to keep them at a safer distance as she tried to swing the dagger (incorrectly) at him like a magical wand. 

The woman grunted in pain, letting the dagger drop to the floor with a deafening clank. Letting her forearm go, Damian lightly kicked the person to the floor, pushing a fraction of his weight onto the solar plexus. He glared down, his eyes scanning the slick, black material and immediately recognized it as the one he was forced to wear when he was younger.

So his mother did send this person after him. 

“P-please…” It was a hushed mumble mixed together with the person’s frantic breaths. His eyes scanned again and he noticed the way the woman’s eyes were thin and constricted, examining him as he was her. The terrified look on her face seemed familiar, like something from a hazy dream or an old scrapbook. For a split second, Damian thought the person looked awfully similar to you, only for the thought to be immediately swept away as soon as it appeared. It couldn’t be you, you died. 

“Who are you?” He asked again, lightening the pressure of his foot. “Why did my mother send you after me?”

She continued to thrash around and murmur incoherent words, causing Damian to grumble. “If you aren’t going to answer me, I may as well dispose of-”

Before he could finish the empty threat, the hair of the woman, which shifted out of the shawl covering most of the face, leaked out like a tube of acrylic oil. The shade…it was similar to yours as well…

His heart began to leap in the air, long-forgotten hope pumping from his heart to his brain. He completely shifted his weight off of the woman and slowly leaned down. 

Of course, this could have been chalked up to wishful thinking and mindless absurdity. But he, deep down, wanted to believe, to hope. 

“I won’t hurt you…” He said softly, reaching out to the shawl. He tugged at it to reveal  a mess of hair the color of his wishes, prayers, and dreams combined. 

A few tears ran down the cheeks of the stranger, the fabric of the mask covering their mouth absorbing the liquid almost immediately. “D-don’t…shouldn’t…shouldn’t know who I am…”

“Why not?”

“I-I…you…” She paused, averting her eyes up to his once more. “Your mother wants you back in the League.” She finished, her gentler voice turning rigid and empty like a robot. 

“I’ve told her once that I do not wish to be part of her League. I’m not sure how many times I need to make this explicitly clear to her.” 

“No!” She suddenly pounced on Damian, voice quivering as she pressed another shuriken to his neck. “You can’t do that! Please, Damian. You don’t understand, t-the League needs you, I-I….I need to take you home o-or…or else…”

Damian felt his soul tear itself from his body, felt as if every single wound he tried desperately to cover was unearthed and drenched in lemon juice and salt. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to break out into laughter or crumble into tears. 

Dangling between the two was an old and battered ring, decayed with age. Everything began to click together. The hair was the same beautiful shade, the voice was almost the exact melody, even the combat reflected the same clumsy style.

It was you. 

Your eyes wandered down, widening once they saw that the ring escaped the confines of your shirt. You hastily ripped it out of Damian’s view, quickly dropping the artillery and scrambling off of him, your chest heaving. 

“Y/n…” He hesitantly reached for the warmth of your hand, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers again. It was a miracle, a shooting star in the palm of his hand, twinkling with the fiery hope of a phoenix feather. He already lost you once, broke his promise, and he will never let that happen again. 

“You left me…you left me there to die…” You nudged his hand away, refusing to turn towards him. 

“I would never leave you there to die! I came back for you a few months later once I convinced my father and I was told you died on a mission! They said your mother did not want to revive you because you were useless!” He argued. 

Damian reached for you again, desperately, the need to see you smile for him, because of him overrunning every sense of logic he normally abided by. Your shoulders were tensed as the rest of your body trembled, managing to break Damian’s frigged heart even more. 

“I looked for you everywhere. I almost killed every single person in that fucking building when they said you were murdered, as if it did not matter.” He said in a broken mutter. Damian let his arms wrap around your neck loosely, resting his chin delicately on your head. “I’m sorry, Y/n…I…I failed you.”

You placed your jittery hands on top of his and clutched them just as you did when you were both younger. The sleeves of the assassin attire fell down to your elbows, exposing branches of lighter skin, twisting and curling like cruel birthmarks. “What happened to you?”

Damian couldn’t help but trace the scars with his index finger, counting how many he noticed. Blood trickled down his lip as he tried not to let rage cloud his judgment. 

“When you left…m-my mother…she…” As tears slipped down your cheeks, Damian couldn’t contain the urge to gently kiss them away the same way he did the day he left. “Training became more intense…I was sent on more missions and…and every time I failed…”

Your voice trailed off, replaced with painful cries. “I-If I don’t bring you back…if you don’t rejoin the League again she might actually kill me…” 

Damian watched as you erratically took off the first layer of clothing, revealing a plethora of scars along your arms and neck, down to your clavicle.Whatever restraint Damian clung onto vanished as easily as a swift slice; a bomb ticking down to its demise would have been more nimble. 

“They won’t be getting away with this.” Damian got up, dusting off the filth on his pants, a plan formulating in his mind. He could call up Jason who would definitely not mind killing off some Leaguers who stepped out of line. He will call his father as well and they’ll discuss negotiations for your release. You could be safe with him, with his family. He would be able to grant you your every wish and desire, exactly how he promised. 

You tugged on his sleeve. “Damian…I can’t…I have to take you home. Please, I already know I can’t fight you.”

“I am not going anywhere, Y/n, and neither are you. I told you I would free you from the League when I was nine, and I plan to keep that promise.” He managed a soft smile, hoping that it would ease away the creases on your countenance, to paint over your frown and replace it with moonbeams and sunlight. He wanted to restore the hopeful blaze in your eyes.

Your frown only deepened. “Damian, you don’t understand, I can’t. I can’t run, I can’t escape.”

You shook your head, attempting to wipe away the tears in vain. “The happy ending that I wished for, it was stolen from me, Damian, and I will never get it back. I was wrong to hope.”  

“If you believed that, then you wouldn’t be wearing the ring I gave you. Y/n, you were the one who told me that I wasn’t tied to my heritage! That I could be whoever I wanted to be and do whatever I wanted to do even if it went against my family's wishes.” He fought back. “I won’t allow someone to throw your life away, Y/n. You have a choice. I can protect you.”

Palming your cheek, Damian pulled you into an embrace. The thought of you going back to someone who would only torture you, kill you, hurt him more than he would ever be able to admit. 

“They’d come after me, Dami. They will hunt me down and off me the moment I let my guard down. I would never be truly free, there would be no point.” You lightly pushed him away from you again, hands resting on his chest. For a moment, he wondered if you could feel the drumming of his heartbeat, the way it raced faster than his mind could keep up with. 

“And you don’t think I can protect you?” He replied, voice softening as he urged his legs to step an inch closer, and then another inch. “I would never let anyone hurt you, not ever again.”

Your eyes met with his own, and Damian hoped that the small glimmer he saw meant he was getting through the years of brainwashing, tugging at the strand of hope he knew you had left in you. Your lips parted slightly only to close a few seconds later. With your shoulders slumped, nose bright red, and cheeks gleaming with tears, you slumped into his arms and began to fully weep. 

It caught Damian off guard to see the intense emotion but it did not make him uncomfortable like it usually did; no, instead he felt a pang of sympathy coiling in his stomach, growing into vines and clawing up his throat and daring him to speak. 

“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, clutching onto his cape as if he were as fair weathered as a butterfly. “I-I…I…”

“I know. It’s alright.” He said. “I’m here.” 

Damian made a mental note to thank Dick for teaching him how to comfort others. He pulled you out of the disgusting alleyway and out into the quiet street. Getting you somewhere safe was his first priority and there was no safer space than Wayne Manor.  

“Where are we going?” 

“My family home. My father will be there and so will some of my siblings. It is absolutely the safest place in Gotham for you.”

The cold air seemed more bearable when the comfort of your hand rested in his. The stirrings of a former childhood crush resurfaced the more he looked at you. Despite that though, he knew it would not be fair to push his feelings onto you. If he did, Damian would be no better than the people who controlled you your entire life. 

“I thought you would have forgotten me by now.” You turned towards him, the edges of your mouth twisting into the first smile he had seen from you in years. 

“Forgetting you would be like forgetting how to paint.” He remarked.

A feeling of calmness wrapped itself around the two of you like a snug quilt. Damian could sense that you were still nervous if the constant swerving of your head at any sudden noise was anything to go by, but every time he made sure to pull you closer to show he was not going anywhere. 

By the time that the both of you reached the Manor, your breath managed to settle into a slower rhythm. Damian watched as your lips formed into an O as you stared up at the daunting Victorian-esque building. 

“I’ve always wanted to visit a castle…” You mumbled under your breath, tipping your head curiously the same way you did when you sneakily read the banned fairytales your mother was avidly against. 

Damian chuckled at the response. “And I always said I would take you to one.”

As he guided you through the Manor, the smile on your face began to appear more vividly. His family was surprised, but once he explained the situation, they eagerly welcomed you with open arms. Damian made sure to have Alfred fetch you some nicer clothes for resting while he held you in his arms. 

Ever since the both of you were younger, you taught Damian the importance of hope and - even if it took years - he was more than happy to help you believe in it again.

Did I reread this again before publishing? NOPE

But did I figure out the read more thingy? HELL YES

I consider this a win lol

[frownyalfred]

How do you do your writing? Start writing the story and figure out world building aspects after? Or deep dive into world building than write the story? Personally I write the story then take breaks to write down world building as it comes

Was curious, cause your abo au is very thought out with world building

I think it definitely comes easier with the a/b/o AU since there's a lot of pre-established options within the trope, so I'm usually just mixing and matching the ones I like most, or subverting the ones I don't.

My biggest goal when worldbuilding is to avoid the "this is the world I live in and here are the rules" monologue that sometimes pops up in published novels. I only want stuff to come up that's actually being discussed and thought about by the characters in the scene -- and unless it's being used as a device, they're not usually narrating the rules of the world they live in to themselves at any point. (Again, it depends on the book and if it's being used as a literary device)

So Bruce, in a given scene, wouldn't necessarily be thinking about the fact that omegas use scent blockers to conceal their scents, and wouldn't be thinking about how that works (such as application preference, etc) but he would, theoretically, be thinking about how the new scent blocker he just bought isn't working right, and that he might need to use more than normal. So we get some slightly more subtle worldbuilding within the vein of the scene.

People go back and forth on the "show don't tell" advice in writing, and I know it's contentious. But I'm a proponent of showing worldbuilding whenever possible, instead of outright telling. Whenever I find myself writing a thought/piece of dialogue that seems like it would benefit the reader more than the characters, I take a second to check if I'm telling instead of showing.

Sometimes that means not explaining something until it pops up in the story. An example of this would be in my Mandalorian/Star Wars batfamily AU, where we really don't learn a lot about the batkids' positions or the hierarchy of the Wayne compound until Clark has a chance to talk with various family members and learn.

I think there is definitely an instinct to overexplain off the bat, and it's not always wrong. But if our first scene with Bruce was spent with him thinking over the hierarchy of his own compound, that wouldn't make a lot of sense -- he already knows what it is. He's got other things to focus on in that scene.

If it's helpful, I also put together lists sometimes of worldbuilding ideas that don't necessarily make it into the work itself, but help add context while I'm writing. I did this a lot with Borderline, when I was trying to write the Court/LoA into the fic. A lot of those details didn't make it in for the reader to see, but they affected what I wrote.

That's just my take on it, and like I said, there's a lot of conflicting ideas about this. And exceptions, of course.