#The premise is too good it's crushing me 😅

[lemonandpie]

I talked about it a while back, but the gist is this:

Dick goes undercover while investigating a series of missing persons cases. Accidentally gets himself in the clutches of a hunan trafficking ring that brainwashes their victims into being perfect sex slaves. This fic is the aftermath.

The problem is that I am drowning in ideas for the rest 😅

Slade turns up one day to do a job for them, and comes across Dick while being given a tour of the facility. Kills everyone who works there, rescues Dick and the others. Dick imprints on him, but Slade finds their brainwashing methods to be lazy. Still, Dick ends up begging Slade to let him indulge because trying to be a person when you were halfway trained to be a mindless sex toy is hard, y'all.

Dick admits to the Bats that the brainwashing hasn't worn off the way they assumed it would, and instead he has to fight his conditioning every moment and it is getting harder.

And this is where I get lost entirely. Do the Bats successfully remove Dick's brainwashing? How do they do it? Having to re-brainwash Dick into being a full person again would be great. But would they? If any of them are pining for Dick, would they want to take advantage? After all, Dick is so desperate it would almost be cruel not to. And who?

And like I said-- the trafficking ring was destroyed by Slade, but Dick still has that brainwashing in his head. Immoral, yes, but wouldn't Tim have the imperative to study Dick's mind and see if he can reverse enginneer the process? Wouldn't a part of Bruce start to wonder if maybe he should keep a piece of Dick for himself, something that makes Dick a better hero?

The problem with the whole "Everyone trying to help Dick after he was partially brainwashed to be a sex slave" plot bunny is that, even if it wasn't sexually, Tim would absolutely take advantage

[zeebee3]

Mother!! Your last fic slapped so hard? Omg. You're genius.

I wanted to ask you for some recommendations.👀 I love everything you've ever written, so I'm sure I'll love what you've enjoyed reading too.

If/when you have time, of course.💙

Ahhhhh okay this is going to be a long list, I can already tell 😂 I've tried to limit myself but there are SO MANY fics out there that I eat up again and again, and there will never be a comprehensive list of stuff I've enjoyed because so far, it's truly endless.

That said, here are the first handful that jumped to mind which I've read at least twice (that's got to be a metric of something, right?). I'm going to do the absolute barest summary for them because really, the author's summary and tags do more good than I ever will.

It also goes without saying that every fic by any of these writers is a 10/10 slam dunk, so make a cup of tea and scroll their work lists for more gems. I hope you enjoy!

Note: all of them are rated E

In no particular order...

Dramione

While They Were Sleeping by Dizzle00. The sexual tension in this one!!!!!! pls. I die, even on rereads. Mind the tags as it's an infidelity fic (dating not married).

Full Tilt by Khakis. BDD and a Hermione who is determined to take it. You're welcome in advance.

I Won't Kiss a Death Eater by Orolin. Wartime, forbidden love, clandestine meetings, THE SPICE, the moody vibes!! The podfic of this (linked at the bottom) is also insanely good.

A Healer's Guide to Mating with a Werewolf by sad_millennial. The build up and storytelling is so wonderful, it's truly mind boggling that this clocks in under 8k words for how rich and full of life it is!

The Horny Virgin Chronicles by SilverDragonGemini. 8th year, Hermione asks Draco to help her learn what she likes in bed. Every chapter is amazing, I read it in a single sitting and will be rereading for sure!

Serpents & Skulls by Wanderingfair. Muggle uni AU, secret society, mystery and romance! The moody, dark academia vibes are exceptional.

horny devil by SultryNuns. Draco grows horns, and they are sensitive. I know, I know--say less.

Mount by molivier. Brazilian Ju Jitsu as foreplay. AGAIN, say less.

I was just thinking about it, I'm not gonna do it by malfoyesque. Draco pulls out every time...until now. This is the Draco POV of our dreams.

The Wandmaker by Charingfae. Draco makes magical sex toys; Hermione buys one 🙃

A Marriage of Inconvenience by Beforetherealbook. The title says it all--add in virgin!Draco, pining!Draco, and baby we're cookin'

The Summer After by youhavemyswordandbow. Set in the summer before 8th year, Draco is sent to live with the Grangers. I have a crush on this whole story.

Triads

The Cock Tongue Incident by neilistic. (Hermione/Draco/Astoria). Hermione is summoned to Draco and Astoria's home to help with something. I'm full-on on my knees for this Astoria, and the premise is so unique and so so well done!

Tarnished by westxnorthwest. (Draco/Theo/Hermione). 8th year, the start of a triad, no prior Dreo (which is very very fun to see bloom).

Drarry

Only for October by DodgerKedavra. Every chapter is written based on the 2023 HP Cocktober prompt. Every chapter is also FANTASTIC 🫠

Former Things Come to Mind by DodgerKedavra. Okay I'm cheating on my self-imposed "one fic per author" rule but I simply can't not suggest everyone read this one. The prose. THE CHARACTERIZATIONS. I tear up every reread.

That Old Black Magic by bixgirl1. God-tier marriage law fic. This is the one that got me into that trope to begin with. PHEW.

Lumos by birdsofshore. Another classic Drarry but hey, if you haven't read it, let this be your cue!

OKAY that's it for now, but I am curating a list of my favorite other/rare pair fics as well so once I get that together, I'll do a follow up post.

Annddddd now I want to go reread half of these AGAIN 😅

[meowthefluffy]

Hi! I just wanted to ask about your superhero au thing! I just saw some art for it and I was wondering if there was a storyline to go with it? If not, could you tell me about it? Whatever you want to tell me. I just want to know more!!!

Oh my dear there is so much story!!! Like you have no idea what floodgates you have just opened!!!

It took me multiple days to write this response because I kept getting excited and going on tangents and then editing them out, but let’s go through the premise  first and then I’ll explain the characters. 

Premise: 

So in this world lots of people have superpowers, and said superpowers are given out by the Greek gods who will “sponsor” a hero or villain’s career and be the source of their power.

Virgil is a superhero and Roman is his supervillain, but when they aren’t fighting each-other the two are best friends and also crushing on each-other HARD, shenanigans ensue!( note they don’t know each other’s secret identities)

(character descriptions under cut)

Virgil/ Fear monger :

Sponsored by Pan

Virgil is a super hero with a relatively very villainous power set that he has to actively fight against to use for good. Virgil can inflict severe terror and nightmarish visions upon anyone who makes eye contact with him while using his powers, one side effect of said power is summoning large swaths of brambles and sharp vines. Virgil uses this “side effect “ as his main ability and refuses to use his fear powers for anything because they are too cruel for his taste. (Thus the blindfold in his hero design)

He’s been rivals with Golden-boy since they were both sidekicks so the two have a lot of history. Basically to a point where they consider each-other friends, or at least Virgil hopes they are (they’ve never actually talked about it)

In his civilian form Virgil is the child of two very wealthy businesses people and goes to a fancy private school. He’s got a lot a familial pressure put on him and fighting crime is his main outlet. Virgil is pretty popular at school but I the way where like everyone knows him but no one really KNOWS him ya dig? So he really laches onto Roman when he starts going to his school because Roman’s the first person to ever really see him.

Roman/ Golden boy:

Sponsored by Dionysius(but only through his old boss not directly)

Roman is the super villain Golden-boy! He used to be the one of the main minions of the supervillain King Midas, but king Midas perished and now he’s trying to make it one his own as a big time villain. 

His power set is that he can turn anything he touches into fools gold temporarily, he doesn’t use this power super often tho cause it’s pretty destructive and he just likes causing mischief. Instead he uses the winged sandals he wears to be a kinda speedster type 

In his civilian form Roman is a very poor kid who live much closer to the “bad side” of town. He lives with his sole caretaker Remus (who is like 10 years older than him in this au) and is generally not super well liked at school. He’s struggling with an illness he refuses to disclose with Virgil that means he misses a lot of school and is frequently bedridden. 

(His “illness “ is actually not anything cure-able by modern doctors. Roman actually has a curse that he obtained via King Midas’s experiments to create gold that would be permanent. Roman is slowly turning to gold, and said process is slowly killing him. He has told no one about this)

Here’s a crush equation 

❤️=crush

👍= besties 

Roman ❤️——> Virgil 

Roman 👍———-> Fear Monger 

Virgil ❤️———-> golden boy

Virgil👍————->Roman 

The other sides are this au too but that’s even more stuff and this post is long enough 😅 I’m sorry this took so long to write!!!

[maudus1]

Two things: 1. Can you share some of the wips and fic ideas you’ve got squirreled away on your laptop with us? 🥺 2. I wish you loved your writing as much as I love your writing and self doubt or overthinking stuff didn’t hold you back from posting. You are so talented!! Don’t let your brain tell you otherwise!!!

Thank you sm 😭🥺

Sure, I can share some stuff! I have a doc I fling ideas into whenever they hit me, no matter how detailed or small or stupid. PWPs, crack, AUs, slow burns, fix-its, etc. They're usually little more than stream of consciousness rambling, and sometimes just a link, or song lyrics, a reddit thread, meme, or fanart - whatever inspired me in the moment and made me think, "I should revisit this later."

To give you an idea what the former looks like (though I'll be honest, this is tidier than most lol):

Psychologist/Client Modern AU

Premise: Obi-Wan realizes he’s becoming attracted to his beautiful young client and tries to refer him to another doctor. Little does he know, Anakin has been harboring a crush for years.

Anakin comes in one day for a session and Obi-Wan seems off somehow, nervous almost. It's unlike him. Immediately, Anakin is wary. Before he has a chance to say anything, Obi-Wan gets right to the point and tells him he's referring him to another doctor. Anakin demands to know why and he won't give him a straight answer, or at least not one Anakin believes. He's heartbroken, but the more Obi-Wan dodges his questions, the more frustrated he becomes. Obi-Wan opens the door and tells him he should probably go.

As Anakin is passing by, he gets a little too close, and that's when he notices it. A hitch in Obi-Wan's breath, dilated pupils. And he knows. There's no way he's letting it go now. So he tests his theory. Boxes Obi-Wan in. Obi-Wan is becoming increasingly agitated, holy shit he's actually stammering - that never happens - not to him, the man who's always so smooth and professional and careful with his words.

“If you're referring me,” Anakin says, leaning closer, “I guess I'm not your patient anymore then, am I?" 

Obi-Wan blinks, eyes falling briefly to Anakin’s lips. “No,” he breathes, “I suppose you aren't.”

Anakin grins. "Good.”

And then they kiss! Blah blah blah cue the hot desk sex.

Okay, the rest of this got pretty long so I'm dropping the WIPs under the cut.

First, there's Troubled Water. I have bits of multiple chapters written already but most of my focus is of course on chapter 4. Idk why but I've been struggling with it. 😅 It takes place on a different point in the timeline than originally intended (it was actually ch3 but what was supposed to be a flashback ended up turning into an entire scene of its own and thus the whole club disaster lol). It's, again, so long that it will probably end up split into two chapters but as of right now I'm kinda wingin' it.

And am I being entirely self-indulgent by using my own OCs (and some friends')? Yes.

I'm a writer, I can do anything.

Also I just thought it'd be cool to introduce a new species or two lol. The GFFA is vast okay, there's always room for more. Anyway, here's an excerpt:

“Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Da’riel of Clan Sarel. You have already met my Captain. The big guy behind you is my personal bodyguard. Don’t mind him, he only looks terrifying.” His grin takes on a mischievous edge as Bull huffs what might be a grunt or a laugh and he gestures toward the room he just emerged from. “And last but certainly not least—”

Another Dua’vian materializes in the doorway as though summoned, leaning her shoulder against the architrave. Her hair catches Anakin’s attention first; red as Queen’s Heart blossoms, it cascades in thick waves around shoulders draped in the black silk of a shirt several times too large to be hers, its hem halting mid-thigh. Her legs are bare beneath it.

Cheeks flaming, Anakin turns his gaze resolutely away.

“—this absolute vision is Liv Viventoly. If Preia is my right hand, Liv is my left.”

“What does that mean,” Anakin blurts, and everyone looks at him. Though Obi-Wan never rolls his eyes, the expression on his face is about as close as he gets to it. It’s a very particular brand of fatigue and mild annoyance entirely unique to his master, translated via a blank stare and slightly raised brows. He doesn’t even have to hear the “Honestly, Anakin,” aloud to know that’s exactly what he’s thinking.

“It means”—Liv straightens, smirking—“that I work in the shadows.” Anakin flinches back as she saunters past him and slides smoothly onto one of the tall stools at the well-stocked bar.

Like that answers anything. Why is everyone so cryptic all the time?

“What’s important is that while you’re here, know that you can trust them as I do,” Dua’primia Sarel says.

Obi-Wan nods, though Anakin senses apprehension through their bond. “We appreciate your hospitality, Dua’primia. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is—”

Anakin jolts forward. “Anakin Skywalker. We are at your service, my Lord.”

Sarel looks at his proffered hand with something like amusement and glides past Obi-Wan to clasp it with his. This close, he realizes the Dua’vian is an inch or two taller than himself—being somewhat tall for a human, it’s not an experience Anakin has often—and his eyes are a vibrant peridot green, accentuated by the black markings curving elegantly around the angles of his face that remind Anakin a bit of a Zabrak’s. A vicious scar bisects one eye from brow to cheek, long healed but still pink against his fair complexion, and Anakin spares a second to wonder if he got it during the war.

“Please,” he says, and is it just Anakin’s imagination, or did his voice lower in timbre? “Let us do away with such formalities. Call me Da’riel.” 

Anakin swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “Oh—okay. Da’riel,” he repeats stiffly, hoping he isn’t completely butchering the pronunciation. By the way the man beams, he thinks he did alright. Da’riel releases his hand slowly, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of his inner wrist before Anakin withdraws it behind his poncho. He glances sidelong at Obi-Wan, but his master’s expression is as inscrutable as ever.

“Well then,” Da’riel declares with a brisk clap, making his way to the bar, “drinks?”

“Can we get down to business, please?” Preia says, rolling her eyes. 

“Such a spoilsport. Would it surprise you to know she isn’t always this uptight?” Chuckling, Da’riel uncaps a sapphire-blue crystal decanter and waves it beneath his nose. “Normally my dear Captain is the one pouring the liquor.”

“And I’ll drink you under the table like always once this threat is dealt with.”

“I shall hold you to that, my friend. And you, Jedi?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replies, a little too quick to be casual. “Thank you.” Anakin shoots him an inquisitive glance. 

“Ah.” Da’riel nods sagely. “So the rumors are true.”

“Da’riel—” Preia hisses.

“What?” Da’riel looks around at everyone, not contrite in the least. 

And his master was concerned that Anakin would be the one to say or do something culturally insensitive. He hides a quiet snicker behind his hand, pretending to rub his nose, and Obi-Wan gives him an unamused look before schooling his expression back to its artificial serenity. 

“Please excuse him,” Preia says, hip cocked, a finger rubbing against her temple. “He’s very—”

Liv butts in, “Reckless, blunt, uncouth?” 

Da’riel merely laughs, and Anakin can feel that it’s genuine. This is not at all the fearsome war General, leader of a revolution, and ruler of an entire planet that Anakin imagined. He seems close to these people, treats them more as equals and friends than subordinates or subjects, yet there’s still an aura about him that commands attention and respect as power or royalty would. 

Preia smirks. “Too honest for his own good.”

Whatever it is, Anakin doesn’t sense cruel intent coming from the Dua’primia, just honest curiosity. Despite the glare his master is drilling into the side of his head like he knows what Anakin is going to do, he can’t help asking, “What rumors?” 

“That you’re, er, monks,” Preia says, chuckling to mask embarrassment on behalf of her comrade and her own curiosity. 

“You know.” Liv sips at the drink Da’riel just poured her, not looking at them as she speaks, and Anakin leaks a pulse of unease into the Force. There’s something about her he simply can’t put his finger on. “No drinking, no fu—”

“Fun!” Preia hastily interjects, staring daggers at the other redhead. 

The corners of Anakin’s mouth twitch into a partial frown. They aren’t entirely wrong. He has his own… issues with the Order, with following rules that often either don’t make sense to him or directly conflict with his own ingrained beliefs. But it rankles for some reason, like he’s being judged, like they’re being judged. Mocked, even, though he doesn’t quite discern their meaning. Jedi are guardians of peace and justice within the galaxy. Maybe he doesn’t agree with the way the Order does things sometimes, but without them, without Anakin and Obi-Wan, the world would fall to disorder. To the dark side. People should be grateful—

“We are simply tired from our journey,” Obi-Wan interrupts his thoughts, sidling close enough that their shoulders graze, and Anakin exhales.

“My apologies, Jedi,” Da’riel says sincerely. “I am merely intrigued by your culture, as I’m sure you are of ours.” Obi-Wan bows his head in acceptance. “The hour is late. Preia?”

She hands Obi-Wan a datapad. “This contains an updated blueprint of the palace and map of the city, including the hidden exits and underground tunnels. I’ve marked the positions of my officers for each shift rotation as well as their schedules.”

Obi-Wan hums, stroking his beard as his eyes flit over the information on the screen. “And the evening of the festival?” 

“We’re tripling security, pulling from both the palace guard and local law enforcement.”

“How many of them know we’re here?” Anakin says.

There’s a knock at the door before she can answer, and Bull moves to open it, standing back to allow someone entry. It's a man Anakin recognizes. Tall and broad, with neatly-combed dark hair, deep-set brown eyes, and a kind yet serious face. His attire perfectly matches the regal demeanor flowing off him in waves, fine tailored robes of pewter-blue that swish around matching trousers as he walks. When his eyes land on Obi-Wan, a fond grin meets Obi-Wan’s public, Jedi-persona equivalent; a small, polite smile, though his eyes twinkle with equally affectionate mirth as Senator Bail Organa bends to his height to trade light kisses upon each cheek. 

Anakin knows from experience that it’s just a traditional Alderaanian greeting; it doesn’t mean anything. The Senator is a happily married man. And he’s pretty sure Obi-Wan hasn’t been involved with anyone in years, if ever. Whatever illicit affair he’d thought his master had with Vos was obviously just fueled by his own overactive imagination. He knows this because Obi-Wan never did meet the Kiffar before he shipped out for his next mission, and he hasn’t been alone with Vos since. Obi-Wan even stopped going to bars and clubs; stopped going out much at all, in fact, aside from diplomatic dinners and stuff they do on missions. Otherwise, he mostly stays with Anakin, and that’s exactly how Anakin likes it. 

None of that prevents the irritation boiling within his veins or the tormenting memory of a kiss that’s burrowed its way into his very soul, a kiss that should have never been, and the hollow, bitter pang that always follows in its wake.

Goosebumps prickling the flesh at his nape, he glances around and finds Da’riel leaning back lazily against the front of the bar on one elbow, sipping his drink and watching Anakin intently. Face flushing with heat, he plops into one of the plush chairs and out of the Dua’primia's view.

“Obi-Wan. As always, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“And you as well, Bail.”

“Now that everyone is here,” Preia says, “shall we get started?”

This is Da'riel btw:

"But there are no elves in Star Wars," one might say. Well guess what: there are now. 😌

Preia and Liv belong to @jacklyn-flynn & @charlatron respectively.

As for other WIPs; there's one I started before Troubled Water, though my focus was drawn to TW instead so it's been put on the backburner for now. The original idea was some kind of canon-divergent time-travel fix-it, but in the sense that Vaderkin's consciousness from the end of RoTJ returns to his body around the end of the Mortis arc in The Clone Wars. Can't say why that inspired me but it did lol, it felt like a pivotal moment (one of the shatterpoints I like to theorize about, change one thing and they're all altered via butterfly effect etc).

Like, what if he lived the future shown to him in that vision that the Father erased, and how would he react differently afterward, how would he talk to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka about what they went through on Mortis and the implications if he actually, finally understood and believed that he was indeed the Chosen One, how would they approach the Sith situation and the war from that point on... yeah I just have a lot of thoughts idk. I know that arc isn't a fan favorite but I personally loved the metaphor and the entire Prophetic Greek Tragedy vibe.

Excerpt:

“General Skywalker, come in.”

He feels… strange. Heavy yet impossibly lighter. Awareness presses down around him, suffocating, and a sharp pain lances through his skull as he draws the first shuddering breath in what feels simultaneously like mere minutes and several millennia. His mouth is dry, his throat sore, and his eyes burn as he slowly blinks into wakefulness. The crust of sleep clings to his long lashes, the salt-stained skin upon his cheeks pulling uncomfortably as he moves. He rubs them with a gloved hand and groans at the bright flashing lights of a console as they sharpen into focus. 

Wait—

He has a body. 

Moments ago he was formless and adrift, yet he is once again whole. And before that, he was… he was…

Kriff, he has hands. Hands he sees unfiltered, rather than through a tinted transparisteel visor protecting damaged retinas. And he’s breathing. Unassisted by a mechanical apparatus, by endless tubes and wires, no longer submerged under the ceaselessly distracting harsh rasp of a ventilator. Fingers flexing inches before his face, he blinks again, stunned. Not only does he have a body, but it’s his body. His limbs—well, with the exception of one. His gaze drifts slowly down to his long legs, toes curling experimentally in his boots. The sheer relief of it sends him reeling. 

Red light glints off his leather tabards and he looks up, expecting that any moment now, this will all prove another dream, a nightmare; a life free of that shell dangled temptingly before him only to be snatched away again. But the scene does not change. Dazed, he assesses his surroundings. A ship. He's on a ship? Familiar, Republic make. And there is a presence in the Force, a presence he has not felt in—

Hours. Years. An eternity.

Breath held, he turns. Only his head; as though any attempt to move this foreign yet thrillingly familiar youthful body will snap him out of this vision, send him back to that… that hell. And as he does, he sees him, a shining beacon of pure light, warm and bright and soothing. A man in beige robes, slumped in the co-pilot’s chair beside him, just beyond arm’s reach. Legs akimbo, elbows perched upon the armrests, hands dangling limply over his lap. His bearded chin is tucked to his chest which rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of unconsciousness. Auburn hair spills across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. But he would know this man anywhere.

Obi-Wan.

The desperate beat of his heart and rough, relieved exhale that escapes his lips seems thunderously loud in the otherwise silent cockpit. Fresh tears springing to his eyes, he attempts to stand—to go to him, to sweep Obi-Wan into his arms and feel his warmth, to surround himself with his scent and know for certain that he’s here, he's real, he’s alive—only to wobble and collapse back into the seat like a fawn testing new legs for the first time. 

How is this happening?

He feels himself, and not himself. As though he took a nap and awoke with another lifetime sliced into his brain, a vision he can't shake, an overwrite of his programming, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between it and the reality he's presented with the more he struggles to process it—

A flicker of blue dances in his periphery, repeating a question, and it is only with great reluctance that he tears his eyes away from his former Master. The holo-projection of another man stands at attention in the center console, brow furrowed with worry. Fondness and guilt and confusion flood him with equal measure as he takes in his Captain’s, his friend’s, appearance. 

“General Skywalker, do you read me?”

Skywalker.

The voice of the last person to call him by that name, in that other life, echoes in his mind. It is the name of your true self, you have only forgotten. The son he tried to kill, to corrupt, to save. The son who saved him, and in the end, returned him to the light. Luke.

Clearing his parched throat, he responds, “I—we read you, Rex,” and marvels at the sound of his own voice, so crisp and clear and young, without the distortion of that burdensome helmet. “You—you’re a sight for sore eyes. Can you hear me?”

Fabric rustles behind him and he instinctively reaches for the lightsaber at his hip before the sleepy, curious brush of another Force signature meets his own. Gasping, he whips around in the flight chair.

“Ahsoka!”

She winces, rubbing her tired eyes. “Not so loud, Skyguy,” she says on the back end of a yawn, glancing around the cockpit. “What happened? We were—-mmphh!” Her surprised grunt is muffled against his shoulder as he all but falls out of his seat to the floor at her feet and drags her into his arms, then his lap, cradling her like a child. 

Face buried in her soft lekku, he squeezes her close to his chest, body wracked with silent sobs. All he’d wanted was to protect Ahsoka. To mentor her, as his master before him, and give her the tools she needed to protect herself and innocents across the galaxy. Brilliant, kind, stubborn and strong, and so, so wise beyond her time, she became one of the most talented Jedi he had ever met. Though they’d gotten off to a rocky start, she made him proud, made him feel honored to be her master. Watching her leave the Order tore his heart in two. Watching her leave him destroyed him. Already he’d been questioning the Council, questioning the Order as a whole and their damn inflexible code. But more than that, he questioned himself. He’d failed as her master, failed as a Jedi. 

The memories haunt him. For months he examined the shatterpoints of their lives together, in hindsight—every lesson taught, every battle fought, wondering where he went wrong, what he could have done differently, how he could have fixed things, helped her, kept her close—spiraling down, down into the depths of his own torment and self-loathing. Without Ahsoka, Obi-Wan had been his only remaining tether to the Jedi. To the light. A tether broken, in the end, by his selfishness. By jealousy and hatred and greed, by the fear of abandonment, loss, and… deep, shameful, unrequited feelings. 

But here she is, right here in the secure circle of his arms. His beloved young padawan, the girl he’s come to cherish like a friend, a sister, who he’d met lightsaber for lightsaber in that dark future but even then, corrupted as he was, could not bring himself to kill because he loved her so. Loves her still.

“Master?” Ahsoka murmurs, hands hanging limp at her sides for several seconds before hesitantly returning his embrace with equal strength. Too often preoccupied with and separated by the war, the opportunities to shown her such open affection were far and few between, usually coming after particularly difficult missions, brief brushes with death, and how kriffed up is that? Filled with regret, he promises himself here and now that will change. 

“Are you…” Trailing off, she reaches up to slowly pet his hair and he releases a quiet sigh, finally pulling back to look at her. Her eyes are wide and worried and so very, terrifically, blue. “Master, what’s wrong?”

Letting out a soft chuckle, he shakes his head. “Nothing, Snips.” The old nickname rolls off his tongue without even thinking and his heart clenches, this time with both pain and joy. “Nothing at all. Everything is perfect.”

There’s a crackle of static behind them, then, “Ah, General Kenobi. It’s good to see you, sir. Are you three alright? General Skywalker seems—”

He lifts his gaze to the co-pilot’s chair. Obi-Wan is awake and perched upright in front of the holo, staring silently at them with a frown so achingly familiar a tangled web of affection, longing, pain, betrayal swells within his chest. It hurts, it hurts so much to look at Obi-Wan like this, yet now that those eyes are open and trained so intently on him, he can’t tear his own away. And Obi-Wan’s just as beautiful as ever, just as heart-wrenchingly perfect and good. 

Too late, he remembers that their bond, while not as strong as it had once been, remains. Unlike most master and padawan pairs after the apprentice reaches knighthood, neither he nor Obi-Wan could bring themselves to sever it. They were at war, their connection was vital. It made them a better team. Until— 

His mental shields slam into place but not before Obi-Wan arches a single brow, lips parting as if to repeat Rex’s inquiry. 

“I’m fine,” he rushes to cut Obi-Wan off, “we’re all fine. Just, uh—where are you?” 

He can only beg the Force that his former master and current padawan did not feel too much, did not see the torment buried within him. By the way they appear to be communicating with one another like whispers behind closed doors, however, he’s sure they will have questions. Questions he doesn’t know how to answer. Letting go of Ahsoka, he clambers to his feet, limbs still trembling, and drops heavily back into the pilot’s chair.

“Standing by, sir. We were worried. You were,” Rex hesitates, “off the scopes there for a moment.”

Memories hit him in a rush. Chaotic, lacking order. He's in a dark room with his dead mother whispering poison in his ear. On a balcony overlooking a pristine lake, flowers scenting the air, one hand rising to touch soft skin. In a junkyard, fingers covered in mech oil, the ever-present grit of sand between his molars. At an opera listening to the viper beside him spit lies, lies, lies. The sky above shifts rapidly from day to night, and he's lost in a spinning whirlpool of stars and the obscene rush of power he feels as he brings gods to their knees. Then he's watching the silhouette of a robed man against the backdrop of sunset thinking look at me, look at me, please look at me, I need you—

Sifting through them is a struggle. Everything blurs together, and he can't control what comes or when, skull throbbing from the effort. His thoughts, his feelings, are an amalgamation of eras he can't quite reconcile; the slave boy, the padawan learner, the Jedi Knight, the General, the Sith Lord. It's too much, it's too much and he doesn't know who or what he is anymore and the panic is rising— 

A comforting hand settles upon his shoulder and he opens his eyes. Ahsoka.

“A moment?” Obi-Wan says, still staring at him. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable under that all-too perceptive gaze. At length, his master turns to the holo. “We’ve been gone far longer than a moment.”

Rex’s eyes flit between them. “Sir, I don’t understand. You’ll need to explain.”

Ahsoka snorts. “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.”

Still have a lot of mental fleshing out to do before it goes anywhere but there ya have it.

May the Force be with you, always!

As for the first part of your comment, really, thank you. It's not that I don't love my writing so much as the process can be difficult at times. 😅 I'm a perfectionist, and not by choice so much as my brain simply won't let things go until they feel right. Even after publishing something I have a very bad habit of going back in and editing it a dozen more times. It's very annoying! 😂

Sometimes that single-minded focus gets me stuck in a huge rut because I'm too zoned in on trivialities to navigate back to the big picture. Basically writer's block is the worst feeling ever and sometimes I get down about not being as productive as I should be. But I do love writing, and making people happy with my work gives me a lot of joy and motivation to keep at it. Well, I should probably get back to work on TW but I hope you enjoyed the excerpts! All your kind words made me smile and I'm gonna try to carry that positivity with me. 🥰

[araglas1989]

I'm glad to hear that she is doing great 🥰

Right now I'm into lookism. I found it through Netflix but it's a Webtoon. They started to make an anime Out of it. At least at the start of the Story the premise is of a Boy who is heavily bullied because he is small, fat and wears glasses and also is very poor. so he changes schools. When he moved to Seol he hopes to start a new life but that hope is first crushed by a guy beating him up just because he talked to the girl that guy liked. People recorded that and loaded it up online where he get's nasty coments. Obviously distraught he cries himself to sleep. When he wakes up next he is in a beautiful, tall Body. He discovers that he has now two bodies, when one sleeps his cousioness is transfered to the other Body. He starts attending high school with the beautiful body while working nightshifts in his real Body in a convienent Store. He learns to navigate a world where looks are everything and makes friends but also stands up for bullied school mates while in his new Body what brings some people to Change their behavior too. With his new body he can also fight pretty Well. It's a perfect Body that doesn't change even if it starves or eats many things and he can copy fightingtechnics by just watching.

Though later in the Story it's more and more about fights and gangs. Still pretty cool with deep character designs but I'm sad that it lost much off it's first Idea 😅

The other fandom I'm in at the moment (or rather be Back for) is Eureka. It's more a Sience tv show were a former marshall gets to be a Sheriff in a town full of geniuses. But even though He isn't as smart as the people there he has good observation skills and good ideas because he thinks more simply than them but also more on Point. It's a quite funny Story. Also he has a house with a KI that talks and can cook 😄

Funnily enough that comic that I read and gave me that vibes for the clown fish omegaverse also went a bit into that direction though it was more like because one of those alphas always got fucked and bitten in the neck like an omega made his body change into one... Though I Like my Idea more 😅 the other idea has a bad aftertaste in my opinion 😅

Hi my friend I hope you are doing fine. And that your sister is feeling Well too☺️

I need to share I thought I just got by reading an alphaxalpha Comic and I thought you might appricate it 🤣 (and maybe grab it and running wild with it,If you Like it) especially since you are still in the Witcher fandom (right now I'm Not but I plan to get Back to it after i manage to finish at least one fic for lookism ...) and I think that idea would be great for the Witcher.

So here the thought. Omegaverse au, obviously. But hear me out! What If this second Sex works Like *grins* like with clown fish and some like that. So it's like, If there isn't any omega around an alpha changes into one (or vice versa)

And now just imagine post progrom wirchers who have lost all their omegas. (😭) So they are all alphas for some years, first nothing changes because of grief and stress and stuff (you know how that can fuck up circles) and then suddenly one year in winter one of our sweethearts suddenly wents into Heat and all are 'wtf is Happening?'(also pheromones fucking up thinking)

*grins manical* sounds like a wonderful Clusterfuck to me 🤣🤣

Anyways just wanted to share it

Hello my friend! ♥️ It is so good to see you! What fandoms are you in now?

I love that idea. I don’t think I understand omegaverse enough to write it, but some of my favorite fandom writers write it, so I’ve sampled it for sure and this sounds like just the the thing for maximum Kaer Morhen sexy drama.

ETA: thank you for asking about my sister 💕💕 she is cancer free and doing great.

[vannahfanfics]

OK, so I’m back at it again on my AluSeras bullshit and I’ve been wondering if you have any headcanons for how would Seras react to Girlycard and what would Alucard do to/with Seras while he’s in his Girlycard form? 😸 (Sorry, I had forgotten to add a bit more detail to my question earlier, so I decided to rewrite and resend my headcanon request. I hope you don’t mind. 😅) - Gaanon 🌵🏜🤎

Aww, that's such a cute premise! I love that! I imagine Seras would find Girlycard to be super adorable! :)

I think Seras would be so charmed when she meets Girlycard for the first time! Of course, she’ll be very confused at first-- “Master? Is that really you, Master?” When Alucard is finally like “Yes, Seras, it is me,” she can’t help but squeal and give Girlycard a crushing hug. She just continuously gushes about how adorable this form is, and despite himself, Alucard can’t help but gush. 

Things take a turn for the weird when Seras insists on taking Girlycard out shopping to get some new clothes-- after all, she would look so much cuter in pretty dresses than that suit! Alucard is not for it but when Seras bats her eyes and hits him with that “Pretty please?”, it’s over. He lets her drag him out to all the boutiques, putting him in one ridiculous frilly dress after another-- but he looks damn good in some of them, so he can’t complain too much. More than anything, it delights him to see how giddy Seras gets over silly things like this. 

He finds that Seras is more willing to approach him in this form, so he makes a point to use it more often. He regrets this decision a little when Seras makes him do super-girly things like tea parties and makeovers, but-- she just gets so happy! Integra, of course, does not let him live it down, but hey-- for his darling Seras, he’ll do even the ridiculous...