#Star's Peril

[slitheringss]

I would like to thank @mdoodlerfandomart for their vigcup same age au art + fic, for totally uprooting my plot points + aus I had for my fic. Its fixed plot holes and the flow of the fic, but at what cost

[cj-kenobi]

Anakin just walked in on something he Wishes He Hadn't

reference under the cut!

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Pondering whether I should start treating 7 seas danmei translations like pokemon and y'know buy them all.

[tmos-time]

guy whos been using the zosan tag like diet erisol for months: yeah i think eridan could be convinced to get into one piece. yeah ill do that for @erisolweek free day

(if any of the japanese parts are clunky or off in any way, thats on me for only having translation pages and absorbed one piece knowledge to go off of, LOL. unfortunately, headcanoning that trolls can use languages like theyre just accents doesnt give me the power to depict it flawlessly)

[norman-smsl-guidancecounselor]

@insertdisc5 don't mind me I just redrew yer sloops so that they're riding a sloop :sifThumbsUp:

[mxtx-ships]

Edit: So I hate slow burns, so getting into danmei WAS HARD!!!! So I'm looking for romance, and I don't mind pining a bit. But most danmei are slow burn with pining, so I don't think I'll ever find a danmei where it's mostly romance. I got into SVSSS cause I really liked the couple and didn't know it was gonna be a slow burn. TGCF I got into cause i saw so many romantic things, HuaLian! Didn't know I was gonna have angst city!!!! I got into MDZS cause I honestly read all of MXTX books so let's just read the last one! I didn't know they were all slow burn or just everyone pining forever😅😅

Another Edit: I don't mind angst! I live for it! I just want a lot of romance!

Last Edit: ok kings and queens and everyone else! I think I will give The Disabled Tyrant’s Beloved Pet Fish, Ballad of Sword and Wine, and maybe The Husky & His White Cat Shizun! I honestly heard a lot about Ballad of Sword and Wine, and I'm liking it! Them getting together early and just doing shit together which I adore! Thank you to everyone!!!!!🩷🩷🩷

[skywalkr-nberrie]

I was rereading some chapters of Queen’s Peril, and I just love how the book talks about how as a kid Padmé use to travel off world with her dad, Ruwee, to other planets and doing public service, like food distribution, relocating citizens, etc. Padmé even suggested to her family that they grow a kitchen garden in their backyard, and save the crop (vegetables, fruits) they grow and donate it to starving families, on world and off world.

I also just love how the story parallels Anakin and Padmé in the narrative, in the sense that they both come from modest origins, and humble beginnings, (Of course, Padmé’s dad is well endorsed in relief movements and public service, but the Naberries still aren’t noblemen.) but are destined to become prodigies whom were both identified as gifted and brilliant young people at an early age. Also they’re strong sense of justice, with Padmé wanting to aid anyone in need, and Anakin vowing to leave Tatooine someday and free the slaves. It’s giving ✨ “made for one another” and “soulmatism” ✨

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Characters, book, and author names under the cut

Nico di Angelo/Will Solace - The Camp Halfblood Chronicles by Rick Riordan

Whisper/Prince Julien Sandry - Prince and Assassin by Tavia Lark

Wylan van Eyck/Jesper Fahey - Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Lark/Rosethorn - Circle of Magic by Tamora Pierce

[naboopalace]

“You overthrew the chancellor," Sabe said. “I wish you had seen it." Padme sounded sad. “So many people from all over the galaxy, and all they could do was squabble. I told them that our people were suffering, and they would have made us wait until some committee flew out to the Chommell sector and checked. They were more concerned with voting along the lines of their alliance than they were with listening to problems and trying to find solutions. It was a mess, and Chancellor Valorum did nothing. Nothing.” —Queen's Peril (E.K. Johnston)

[wassupmygays]

controversially i dont think many of the soc gang actually knew about parry until after it was over. this is obviously all headcanons in my brain but listen. those teenage boys are not that observant. especially bc imo i think paul and darry were The Childhood Friends, obviously their bond has to be Tight for darry to be able to mesh with the rest of the socs. and, paul and darry are a year or two older than the socs (i can get more into how i think of their hs dynamics later).

anyways what im saying is i dont think the socs (minus like. bev) really knew of the extent of paul and darrys relationship until it was over and something in paul changed. he started drinking to cope again like bob. he started picking fights more and more. he had to be pulled off of sodapop curtis one time because he just wouldnt stop punching. he starts letting himself get with all the girls that have been hitting on him since the freshman year. him and bob grew closer, bonding over how they somehow felt so much and so little all at the same time.

paul holden doesnt have the support system or coping skills to deal with the secret, the love, the heartbreak, and the guilt that has been building up his entire life, and it shows. im sorry man </3

[slitheringss]

I think my favorite part of this AU has been dealing with the different dynamics/bonds. For instance, I've been enjoying coming up with things/adventures Hiccup and Viggo would have done as kids while they grew up together. Building it up as they grow older till they hit 15 where it all comes to head when Viggo is told Hiccup is "dead", his journey and struggles through life as he grows, and then an unexpected reunion.

Viggo's mind came to a halt. It wasn't real. It wasn't feasible. No matter the forlorn look in Stoick's voice and eyes, it wasn't true. Hiccup had died. His best friend and growing crush had been killed, leaving him with the sour confirmation that Hiccup wasn't his soulmate; even if he wanted so badly for him to be. He would have felt it, and he's devastated at the loss of him. He made Viggo care when nothing else really mattered. He grows colder and distant, his presence far more chilling. He puts all his focus on dragon hunting and becoming chief. He may still occasionally feel pain from a person who's supposedly his other half, but what would that matter when they're still here and Hiccup isn't? No one would have been as worthy or acceptable of such a title as Hiccup. Hiccup had complimented him in ways he hadn't truly known till he was gone. No one would do such such a justice as him, and it'd be an injustice for anyone else to try.

So imagine his surprise to going up against the Archipelago Wraith and finding it a worthy adversary. Something more intelligent and quick than others believed. That this "creature" was far more sentient. A new player on the board. Another to rival his intelligence. It makes him yearn for all that was lost and taken from him. He won't let such an opportunity such as this go to waste. But in the quiet moments, when the world is quiet, his room bathed low in candlelight, and all is seemingly right with the world, Viggos mind wanders of Hiccup. What'd he'd think or do in the face of these situations.

When his 20th birthday comes around and no one has teleported to him, he's understandably concerned. The tribe worries, and his counsel is in an uproar. While they debate, Viggo finds that this is a much more suitable outcome. With the current circumstances, it would have been more of a detriment to drag a stranger along. Someone who probably couldn't hold a conversation or a flame to his own intelligence. No, this was far better. Besides, if it was meant to be, the gods would have brought them to him. They didn't. Therefore, they weren't meant for each other.

Months later, waking up in a room not his own, being stared down by twin shadows from above was not something he could have ever expected. Even more so for his elusive Wraith to reveal far more than they probably wanted and into a world known by only to few. To behold secrets the world would kill for. To find the one thing he's wanted, yearned, and mourned for for years. For him to discover Hiccup Haddock, lived. And just for a moment, everything was right.

[blorger]

“I didn’t know you were friends with Luna,” Harry said levelly, looking Malfoy in the eye. Malfoy stared right back. “Since first year!” Luna said from behind the rail. “Some of the other children teased me, you know, but Draco was always so kind. He appreciates my vision.” “Really,” Harry said doubtfully, and Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Everyone loves me, Potter,” he said, with deep, displeasing smugness. “Didn’t you know?” “Yes,” Harry said through gritted teeth, and he took a seat on one of the hard chairs by the mirrors. “But . . . even so, don’t you think it would be better if things were, you know, back to normal?” he hissed at Malfoy, feeling unable to be more explicit because of Luna’s lurking, cheerful presence. Malfoy raised his eyes to the ceiling as if considering this. “No,” he said eventually, and shot Harry a hard look. “I can’t say I do.” “So you won’t help fix things, then,” Harry said flatly. Malfoy was still looking at him – hard, and fierce, and inscrutable. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Did I hear you say please?” Harry thought about this, and the idea of saying please to Draco Malfoy seemed a mountain he just couldn’t climb. Had Malfoy ever said please to him, over anything? Or, more to the point, sorry? Of course he fucking hadn’t.

from Star Quality by who_la_hoop

[lichqueenlibrarian]

I can’t edit for beans but I am constantly thinking about Queen’s Who Wants to Live Forever and Kirk/Spock.

[tarisilmarwen]

Whumptober 2024 - "Restless"

(Lil' bit of Ezra whump for the girlies. And, well, anyone who likes to see him suffering and then getting soft comfort.

Set sometime late Season One-ish, after "Idiot's Array".

Prompts used were:

No.8 Sleep Deprivation: Isolation Chamber/Forced To Stay Awake/"Leave the lights on."

No.30 Recovery: Hospital Bed/Holding Back Tears.)

---

Ezra tried to stretch out his limbs again. They were cramping from the angle, and the restraints were beginning to dig in uncomfortably.

He had been left alone in here for hours, strapped to an interrogation table that, instead of laying backwards like normal, was tilted forwards at an almost fifteen degree angle. It pushed Ezra's balance off kilter just enough that he constantly felt like was about to slip, his boots squeaking on the little foot platform as he tried to get better traction. Ezra was fairly certain that without the ankle, wrist, and chest bands holding him to the metal slab, that he would simply fall off the table flat onto his face.

...Which wouldn't exactly be unwelcome right about now.

His eyes had since grown used to the dark, but there wasn't really anything else to look at in the circular chamber, his prison since he'd been brought to this place, wherever it was. The Inquisitor had knocked Ezra out when he'd captured him, and the Stormtroopers had kept him blindfolded on the way in, so he honestly had no idea where he was.

He shivered.

He hoped Kanan and the others could find him.

Then again...

Doubts crept through his stomach, a cold, uneasy curl.

Would Kanan even want him back, after he'd been so easily cornered and caught off guard?

It had seemed so pitifully easy for the Inquisitor to disarm him, sending his new lightsaber clattering away out of reach. He should have known the mission was a trap, should have been on guard, should have paid more attention, but he was just so eager to prove himself, that whole embarrassing mess with Calrissian had done a serious number on his confidence.

He definitely wasn't feeling too confident or sure of himself now.

His misery was steadily giving way to an overall sense of weariness, though. His eyes blinked and drooped; in spite of his uncomfortable position he was tired, and sleep was beckoning him just on the edges of his hearing, fluttering behind his head.

The Force suddenly flared with a cold warning spike; Ezra prickled alert and craned his head towards the door.

Along with the bristling Dark Side presence that was approaching, Ezra could hear the faint sound of footsteps, coming closer.

There was a buzz and a snap and the room abruptly lit up, harsh white light blaring out of panels ringing the floor.

"Ngh!" Ezra flinched and squinted in the sudden brightness, his eyes adjusting slowly, painfully.

The footsteps stopped outside the room as he was still blinking, a loud mechanical hiss! sounding as the door swished open.

"Enjoying your accommodations?"

Ezra breathed carefully and flicked his eyes up, glaring, trying not to show any fear.

The Pau'an Inquisitor smirked, flashing his pointed yellow teeth.

"I must say, I thought you would have known better than to infiltrate an Imperial forward operating base all alone, no matter what intelligence they purported to have," he mused, stepping into the chamber, hands folded behind him. "Though that does beg the question..."

He stalked closer, coming to a stop a few feet away from Ezra. Ezra had to lean his head back and press it against the surface of the metal table in order to maintain eye contact, hackles raising defensively.

The Inquisitor bent in, looming from his great height. The yellow Sith eyes glowed, reflecting the light.

"Where is your master, boy?" he asked chillingly. "And the rest of your intrepid crew?"

"Where do you think?" Ezra scoffed. "They're back on the ship."

"Ah..." the Inquisitor said, beginning to circle him. "And where exactly is the Ghost right now?" he pressed.

"I don't know," Ezra answered automatically.

The Pau'an tutted. "Come now, you can give a better answer than that," he chided.

Ezra's eyes tracked the Inquisitor as he slipped out of sight to Ezra's left. "Yeah? Too bad. Because that's the only answer you're getting," he snipped.

He felt the Inquisitor at his back, the footsteps sounding behind him, and his heart ticked nervously.

"It would be far more preferable if you could give me something more," came the man's voice, floating lazily, cordial with a threatening edge. "Not to mention... less painful for you."

Ezra shook his head. "I won't talk."

"I don't need you to." The Inquisitor emerged from around the other side of the chair, flashing back into Ezra's field of vision like a swift shadow. A haughty disdain was in his face, and he was pulled to his full, intimidating height. "Your secrets are all ripe for the taking," he threatened.

Ezra snorted. "Good luck," he said, immediately clocking that the Pau'an intended to read his mind. "Kanan says my passive shields are 'frustratingly impenetrable'," he quoted, emphasizing with little gestures from his fingers.

The Inquisitor chuckled. "We'll see," he said.

He raised his hand, extending it palm out towards Ezra's forehead.

Ezra braced, feeling an immediate sense of painful pressure, heavy and oppressive and so, so cold. It pushed down on him, feeling like a weight digging into his head.

He grit his teeth and pushed back, fighting against the sensation.

The Inquisitor frowned in displeasure. Brows narrowing, he stepped closer, his fingers curling a few degrees tighter.

The pressure intensified with a vengeance and Ezra strained, physically pushing himself back against the table for something solid to ground him. Grunts of effort escaped him, and he struggled to hold onto the Force, keep the Inquisitor at bay. There was a sound like low rumbling in his ears; his eyes squeezed closed tightly, grimacing as the mind probe tested his shields.

The pain was so intense now it was almost blinding. Cold claws were squeezing the front of his head, scraping against his skull. The force was crushing; he was briefly, irrationally afraid that the bone would cave in.

He held his ground several more horrible seconds, struggling, face twisting.

The pressure vanished as the the Inquisitor gave up and lowered his hand.

Ezra felt all the weight immediately come off him and gasped, eyes flying open. As he heaved for breath, the Inquisitor stood there looking unamused, lip curling.

"You are unusually stubborn for someone with so little proper training," he admitted, spitting the words out. "But no matter," he dismissed. "You will break eventually, like all Jedi do. Your shields will weaken and your secrets, however carefully guarded, will be mine."

The Inquisitor angled his body and head towards the door as a Stormtrooper trotted in.

"Sir!" the trooper called, and whispered in the man's ear as soon as he was close enough.

The Inquisitor bent slightly to listen, then nodded.

"Unfortunately it seems I have other matters to attend to," he said, straightening back up. The trooper moved back out towards the door and the Inquisitor stepped closer to the interrogation table. "But don't worry." He reached around behind the slab to take something off the back. "We'll continue this conversation later."

He drew back. Ezra squirmed in place when he realized the thing now in the Inquisitor's hands was a metal shock collar.

"Keep that thing off me!" he yelled, eyes fearful, pulling against his wrist cuffs.

"Hush now, boy," the Inquisitor said, unlatching the collar and fitting the ends very carefully around Ezra's trembling neck. "Too much noise and movement—or too little—" he emphasized cruelly, "—will set the collar off."

The man latched it in place and tightened it slightly, making Ezra give a tiny little panicked choke. The collar was thick, heavy, Ezra could feel the metal edges scraping his skin, but it wasn't tight enough to restrict his air.

Small mercies.

Sharp-nailed gray fingers grabbed his chin harshly. Ezra flinched, grunted, glared into the Inquisitor's sneering face.

The yellow-red eyes were eerie as they stared him down. "We'll see how cooperative you are when you're exhausted, thirsty, and starving," he said. "I imagine your shields won't be so 'frustratingly impenetrable', then," he mocked.

With a swift pivot on his heel he released Ezra, folding his arms behind himself once more as he left the room.

"Keep the lights on," he instructed the troopers just outside. "And tilt the table a couple more degrees forward."

Dread and panic shot through Ezra's stomach as someone pressed a control from outside the room, making the hinges of the table whir as they leaned him even further over. His feet slipped, lost grip, the chest band pressed harshly into him as he scrambled to regain footing on the little shelf. Ezra was now forced to stay up on his toes in order to keep from slipping down in the restraints and hurting his wrists and ribs. The awkward position strained his calf muscles, and he couldn't keep his back and head up.

He gulped with trepidation as the door was closed behind the Inquisitor, straining on shaking legs to keep upright.

***

The hours dragged on. A long, interminable stretch of constant discomfort and pain, shifting in place again and again to try to relieve it.

When his legs gave out he hung forward in the restraints; when that became too much to bear he pushed himself back up and the cycle started all over again. He was certain his wrists and ribs were bruised from pressing against the sharp edges of the restraints and his neck had a constant crick from trying to hold his head up.

He wasn't so preoccupied with the myriad hurts of the stress position to give no thought to his wider concerns, though. The back of his mind was already worrying about how much longer he could endure.

Hunger wasn't an issue, Ezra had gone without food loads of times before, it still wasn't exactly a pleasant problem but it was one he could deal with. Thirst? He wasn't really worried about that, though he could start to feel a bit of a dry tickle in his throat as the hours passed.

No, it was the lack of sleep that was getting to him the most. He'd already been up most of the night when he'd struck out to do the mission, and he hadn't exactly gotten any rest since, aside from his brief concussion at capture, if that even counted. His brain was starting to crowd with fuzzes, and he could feel his limbs getting sore from more than just physical strain. The effort of staying upright was wearing him down.

He slumped forward for a moment, and tried to ignore the cuffs scraping his wrists, letting his head hang.

The brief relief that brought was almost heavenly. Ezra blinked towards the floor, unable to shield his eyes from the glare of the lights. The relaxation of his muscles sent a soothing feeling up his body, seeping into his head.

His eyelids fluttered. His thoughts... fragmented. His breathing began to slow, getting deeper and quieter. He closed his eyes and tried to meld into the feeling.

He was almost starting to drift—

CRZZT!

A painful shock crackled through the collar; Ezra's heart rattled, blind heat stabbing through his chest. All his muscles seized up and cramped as he was zapped back awake and fully aware, gasping.

The shock released him, lingering in needle twinges and pinpricks in his nerves. Ezra hung there, heaving, feeling his muscles slowly unlock.

Kriff... he thought, blinking furiously.

After several long moments the shock wore off. Ezra spent another minute or two trying to stay upright, before giving up again.

He didn't close his eyes this time, just stared towards the floor thinking. The floor lights were at just the right angle and brightness to illuminate the whole room, bathing him in clinical white. His neck ached from hanging but he didn't want to move, not just yet, just let him be still a little while longer. His front ached, the bruises throbbing, but he could deal with it for just a little bit more.

His eyelids started to droop...

The collar shocked him again, making him jerk back, banging his head. Ezra hissed sharply as the electricity reverberated painfully through his body before letting him go.

He held back a whine of exhaustion and frustration. His ears rang with the injustice and unfairness of it. His fists clenched, jaw gripping, but there was nothing he could do to escape this. He would just have to keep holding on.

He wondered if he even could.

Ezra lingered in his slumped position for as long as he could, as long as he dared, before inhaling slowly and bracing.

His toes found the shelf and pushed up, lifting his front off the chest bar, and the cycle began again.

***

A hefty push with the Force sent the two guards at the door hurtling away, cracking against the opposite wall with a loud shudder and bang.

Kanan lowered his hand, breathing heavily. Blasterfire from further in the corridor echoed back to him. Stirring, he turned and found the button to open the door.

Harsh white light, brighter than the corridor, stung his eyes for a second. But then Kanan saw what—and who—he'd been looking for.

Ezra was hanging limp off an interrogation table tilted forward. His head had raised up and he was blinking blearily towards him.

"Kanan...?"

Kanan's mouth parted, corners twitching up in relief as he exhaled heavily. "Hey kiddo," he called. Worry wretched at his heart still, at his padawan's sorry condition. Lightsaber in hand, Kanan quickly made it across the room to the boy. "You ready to get out of this?" he asked.

Ezra looked exhausted, barely keeping his eyes open, but gave a half-hysterical relieved laugh. "Force yes," he said.

Kanan smiled and quickly set about getting his padawan loose. A quick couple of swipes with the saber cut most of the restraints.

Ezra collapsed forward, crumbling almost immediately into Kanan's arms as the man caught him.

"I can walk," Ezra insisted, wobbling unsteadily a few moments as he got his feet back under him. "It just might take a minute." He tilted in place, dizzy. "Don't wanna slow you down," he mumbled.

"It's okay," Kanan told him softly. He held onto Ezra, supporting hands bracing him. "Sabine and Zeb are busy cleaning out our escape route. You'll be home soon."

Ezra's voice hitched, throat visibly tightening as he looked up, with red, shimmering eyes.

"I'm sorry," the boy whispered. "I know I shouldn't have gone off by myself, it just... it seemed easy and I thought I could do it and be back by morning—"

"Don't worry about it," Kanan cut him off, guiding him with a little push towards the door. "Let's get out first. C'mon."

"Wait wait—" Ezra protested, batting once at Kanan's hands before reaching up. "Shock collar," he explained, fingers fumbling at the back, looking for the release.

Kanan found it quicker, depressing the latch to let it fall away and clatter on the floor. Angry heat seared behind his eyes as he saw the electrical burns on Ezra's skin.

The Inquisitor was just lucky he wasn't here right now.

***

Kanan led his padawan out of the prison, out into the hallway and down the escape route, running carefully but quickly, keeping at least one hand on his arm or shoulder or holding him up at all times. Ezra looked dead on his feet as he stumbled after Kanan, unsteady, visibly tired.

Within moments, they gained the ramp of the Ghost, running up into the cargo bay as Zeb and Sabine laid cover fire behind them.

Ezra doubled over panting as soon as the ramp latched in place. Zeb holstered his bo-rifle and came over.

"You look like poodoo, kid," he grunted in concern, helping him straighten back up.

Ezra was still trying to catch his breath. "So tired," he complained. "Bastard wouldn't let me sleep," he muttered.

Sabine joined the circle of people trying to keep him upright. "We've already got an IV stand set up next to your bunk, Kanan," she told him.

Kanan nodded as he slipped his arm under Ezra's armpit and extracted him from the circle. "Thanks." To Ezra, he said, "Let's get you in bed, kid."

Ezra mumbled something in response, but Kanan didn't catch it.

Hera met them at the top of the ladder, hands fisted on her hips, expression furious and scolding. Kanan stopped her as she opened her mouth, holding up a palm and shaking his head.

Biting her lip as she beheld their youngest Spectre, Hera held back her lecture. For now.

Kanan brought him swiftly into his room, letting him slide down into the bed. Ezra struggled to sit up, making it briefly difficult for Kanan to get the IV in him.

"Hold still, Ezra. You're dehydrated. You need fluids." Kanan took a seat as he pushed the boy's sleeve up, frowning at the bruises left behind by the wrist cuffs.

Ezra's eyes were watery and his next inhale was shaky.

"I'm sorry," he said again, voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I should have—" His breath hitched on a sob. "I just wanted—"

His heart pinching, Kanan glanced towards Hera hovering in the doorway, all anger gone now as she watched in concern.

He squeezed Ezra's wrist.

"Hey," he interrupted, voice low and reassuring. "Just rest, Ezra. Okay?" He finished setting up the IV and put his hand on the boy's head, ruffling his hair softly. "Just rest."

Ezra shook as he exhaled, tension releasing from his body. "Okay," he whispered thinly. There was so much more he wanted to say, Kanan could tell, but he followed the instructions to relax and was fast fading as soon as he let his head lay on the pillow.

Wrapping a sense of calm around his apprentice through the Force, Kanan helped ease away the fear and exhaustion, dim the pain he was feeling.

He held onto Ezra's hand as the boy's eyes closed and he slipped into blissful, beautiful sleep.

[pink-peril-art]

A Christmas Coo

I painted this sweet Heilan' Coo under the Christmas Star, as a tribute to the cows in the stable in the Nativity story 🌟

I love the idea of the cow experiencing the first snow of the season while their wee Robin friend nestles into their hair, all cosy! ❄️😃 I gave prints as Christmas presents last year 😊

Derwent Inktense watercolours on 300gsm paper

[regicidal-defenestration]

Most annoying advertising trend is "the new [existing media]!!!" because maybe 7 times out of 10 it's doing a disservice to both the new and old thing