#but it makes me want to do dialogue-focused pieces more often.

[romchat]

The Time of Fever (Ep. 1-3) visual analysis: The Metamorphosis

Ho-tae: "I woke up to find myself transformed into a monstrous insect, lying in bed"...What is this? A story about a guy turning into a bug? Dong-hee: If I turned into a bug one day, would I still be Kim Dong-hee or just a bug?

From this piece of dialogue and the cinematography alone I know The Time of Fever is going to cause me a lot of pain. The only way to describe its style is palpable.

The moment our two main characters, Kim Dong-hee and Go Ho-tae, appear together, we can see the friction and unnamed longing between them.

Notice how often the first episode uses shots with three distinct compositional layers to provide depth and complexity to the relationships portrayed on screen:

In most of these shots, the composition places Dong-hee in the background with Ho-tae on another layer completely--they're distant and never quite aligned on what they want out of the relationship. Despite how these two characters were brought together by their mothers' friendship--I love how the second screenshot uses their bodies in the foreground to frame Dong-hee and Ho-tae--it's that very connection that also creates a wall between them. Although Ho-tae is excited about rekindling their friendship after moving away two years prior, Dong-hee doesn't want to betray his aunt's trust by admitting his romantic feelings for him.

And so he recedes into the background, alone and inscrutable.

The fact that Dong-hee also compares himself to Gregor from Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis hits like a sucker punch.

Like Gregor, Dong-hee lives a sort of transient and almost functionalist lifestyle. After being kicked out of his home by his abusive father, he focuses on his school work and trying to get by. He is isolated and his queer awakening only makes him feel more disoriented and misunderstood--he feels like Gregor in his insect form.

And yet we still see moments where he allows himself to yearn for something more and how Ho-tae begins to do the same.

(Side Note: I love love love the show's use of backlighting to highlight the lines of the actors' bodies. It's so simple but intimate and erotic as if the camera is acting like Dong-hee's artist-eye trying to memorize Ho-tae's muscular beauty.)

One of my favorite stylistic choices of The Time of Fever is how it uses close-ups to represent the characters' subjective POV and desire.

Like Dong-hee's sketches, these shots are the fragments of everyday life that are so small yet feel oh so significant while on the path towards self-discovery.

They're gloriously tactile, the shallow depth of field eliminating extraneous detail, allowing us to experience the heady excitement of accidentally grazing your crush's skin or looking into their eyes during a rainstorm.

I don't think I've seen desire that achingly displayed in a hot minute.

And so it makes sense that as Ho-tae begins to undergo his own metamorphosis and understand his own feelings, we see more and more visual parallelism in how their desire manifests.

(Side Note: The second screenshot above is such a gorgeous shot. That inky black negative space not only showcases Ho-tae's gaze at Dong-hee's lips but also his reaction to the realization that hits him. Great 2 for 1.)

I can't wait to see what visual storytelling the next three episodes bring.

[slayingfiction]

Weak Words To Cut

Here are some weak words than you can often remove to strengthen your writing. I have made these changes as I edit my own novel, so I included examples from my writing to show you the difference.

When editing and cutting words, we are not talking about dialogue because everyone has a unique way of speaking, and it’s important to keep true to their voice.

Note: these are all general guidelines, and you don’t have to use all or any of them. Creative writing gives you a creative licence to choose how you write. Do what works best for you. Always.

Suddenly: technically speaking, everything happens suddenly, so use the word sparingly or it will lose its effect.

I don’t remember ever seeing a man in such little clothes before, and I suddenly despised the one piece left. I don’t remember ever seeing a man in such little clothes before, and I found myself despising the remaining piece.

Keep: When it disrupts your character’s life, and you want your reader to really take notice.

Cut: if removed and there is no change, then it’s not necessary

Then/Next: this is typically a filler word. All events happen in a sequential state, so it’s not always needed.

Then She was gone, her steps echoing through the halls.

Keep: You want to keep the word typically when something is changing in action, description, etc.

Cut: If removing the word does not change the meaning, then cut it. Typically if this word starts the sentence, it’s unnecessary.

Just: this is a filler word, and can almost always be removed.

I was just a game to him, nothing more.

Keep: if removing it makes your sentence confusing or changes the meaning, then keep it. Usually using the word words well as a limiter word. (Eg. it’s just me and my dogs tonight)

Cut: when it’s unnecessary and changes nothing.

Really/Very: these are weak qualifying/descriptive words, and you can absolutely find a better synonym

Your mother is really nice lovely.

Keep: typically these words are fine to keep when not used to enhance an adjective. (Eg. very next day, really think, very back of…)

Cut: if it’s being used to enhance a weak adjective, cut it and find a better word.

Is/Was: this is usually a passive voice, which isn’t usually the best for fiction novels, active voice is always preferred. Naturally this is a verb that you can’t cut from all places, so here are some tips.

Everyone was too busy focusing on their shopping to notice a human sliding between sales booths. Buyers and sellers occupied themselves with their shopping, too focused to notice a human sliding between sales booths.

Keep: when delivering information quickly its always best to just state the facts, so don’t worry about trying to find flowery words to describe everything.

Cut: If you can show what the person or object is doing instead of simply saying it, then change the sentence.

Started: every action has a start, so don’t write it unless you can tell me why it’s important now to know that’s it’s started.

The boy started to rant in his native tongue. The boy ranted in his native tongue.

Keep: if your scene is being interrupted or is still unfinished, then go ahead. This one is a little harder to see sometimes, so just see how you feel with it in vs removed.

Cut: it’s it’s unnecessary information, and nothing changes to the story or sentence when removed, axe it.

Seemed: again, this is more of a show don’t tell kind of thing

Time seemed to slow slowed as I held Vera tight against me.

Keep: if a character knows something intuitively

Cut: if you can show why the character is perceiving what’s happening

Definitely: this is typically just confirming facts that are already known to be true. Repetition is unnecessary without a purpose.

He definitely saw me, but I wasn’t mad about it. (This instance can for sure be removed, it’s unnecessary. However, I want this emphasis here, so I chose to keep it)

Keep: if it’s your character who is confirming facts as 100% accurate and ridding previous doubt

Cut: remove and nothing changes

Somewhat/Slightly: usually this is used when only trying to use a partial effect of a word, so the easiest fix is to change the word that it’s describing.

I looked away, slightly embarrassed.

Keep: if the words is truly the best way to describe what was happening in the sentence.

Cut: when you can use a better word to describe your action/emotion/whatever to be more accurate or it’s unnecessary.

Possibly/Likely/Probably/May/Might: much like some of the other weak words, these are just filler. Something either is or isn’t, and it’s best to describe here you can.

Probably Not with the way he was speaking to her.

Keep: if your character isn’t sure of something

Cut: if you can describe what’s happening, or it can be removed without changing the meaning

Somehow: this is usually an indicator of missing information

I thought I was an average girl in every way, and now I was somehow the first human to ever survive. (I don’t use somehow often. I am keeping it in this instance because none of the characters know how it happened yet.)

Keep: if your character is missing the information and doesn’t know how something became true or transpired

Cut: if you can explain how something came to be.

Adverbs: this is a great category of words to use in writing, but if used too often, it can distract from the story. A good rule is finding an even balance between adverbs and active verbs.

I squeezed her cold hand tightly in mine and made a promise to save her. Clenching her cold hand between mine, I promised to save her.

Keep: if it improves your writing by making it more clear and efficient.

Cut: if it makes more sense to use active verbs to describe what’s going on.

Totally/Completely/Absolutely: all filler words

He grinned at me, his plate almost completely full while mine was near empty. He grinned at me, his plate still full while mine sat devoid of even a crumb.

Keep: if it’s important to the story to know with 100% certainty, and this word gives the most accurate description

Cut: whenever it’s not needed

Thing/It: missing information/ lack of description

I was just accepting all the things they said as truth. I was just accepting all their fantastic explanations as truth.

Keep: if your character doesn’t know what it is

Cut: whenever you can find an actually description or name the object

Have any more words you think should be added to the list? If something does not make sense or you have questions, let me know down below.

If you’ve found this helpful: comment, like, reblog & follow for more :)

Happy Writing!

[archandshri]

28th June ‘24 - [arch] One Page Limitation??? - My process for Traffic Zine #5

Hello All!

A couple months ago, I got accepted to @trafficzine, a digital anthology of pieces by a large group of artists and writers based on the most recent season of the Life Series. I made this piece back in April, but thankfully I kept some notes of my process. 

Heads up - this contains spoilers for Secret Life :D

We were able to choose our own prompt from a list! For this project, I wanted to push my comic making - especially how to communicate a lot of information in a small space. I went through and watched a few clips from the series to see which prompt would fit a comic and settled on Scott’s death.

As usual, I began by getting some reference images and going ham on some big paper. This gets me excited about the project and helps generate ideas. I go for whatever interests me in terms of medium and subject matter, but I try to use a process that doesn’t let me control too much (in this case brush and ink)

initial sketches for fun and vibes :D

During this, I also took the time to transcribe the scene - I wanted to use the dialogue directly, and see how much I could fit into the single page that I was allowed for the zine.

In these early planning stages I make sure to do warm-up sketches to remind myself of the energy I want to communicate. This also keeps things fun and fresh so I'm not ONLY thinking about page composition and making things 'good'. (the expectation for it to be 'good' kills a project prove me wrong)

Dialogue from the clip + warm up sketches

Next up, I started to plan what panels I have on the page. At this stage, some panels might just be a box with some words, and some may have a sketch if I have a clear composition in mind. This stage is mostly for pacing and plot, so instead of focusing on what the panel and page will look like, I will think about:

what will happen in the panel

it's purpose and

what it will communicate

Sometimes I'll illustrate a string of panels that tell the story and fit them on a page after - but this depends on the project and my confidence with the size of it.

After messing around with these and coming up with a pretty clear direction, I draw a bunch of boxes to see how the panels could sit nicely together. At this stage I might realise I have too many panels, and need to cut a few or come up with a creative solution. Nothing is set in stone at this point.

sketching panel layouts

Now begins the fun! I decide on the layout I prefer and I can start putting planned compositions into the boxes. I often do this digitally, or a digital editing process will be involved.

Once planned, I print these out to do a more refined sketch over. I find that my traditional drawings have a lot more life and character to them than digital ones, so I try to keep the majority of the process traditional, with passes of scanning and digital editing.

I tried a version with her looking out at the distance - ready to face the oncoming battle. But it still felt off. So I turned to my slides to ask myself some questions!!

I tried to think of more things that were working - but I really felt like it was lacking a lot. I was going for this slower emotional feeling because that came more naturally to me, but it just wasn't working for this image. The original clip is quite rushed and chaotic - which would be harder to communicate in a comic format but the challenge interested me. Either way, I knew I wasn't happy with this direction so... i decided to start from scratch! Back to the drawing board!!!

In the previous version, I had cut out a lot of the dialogue, but I decided to go back to the original clip and use AS MUCH as possible. Since passing the bow was my favourite part of that first composition, I really wanted to lean into it as the emotional height and final goodbye before Scott's death. It's a moment to slow down and absorb the vibes :D

I made a list of panels along with their descriptions to refer to when trying to figure out the order of panels. there were SO MANY and it was VERY CONFUSING when they were too small to read.

These thumbnails were super small and would not have made sense without my list, I swear.

I printed this tiny thumbnail out at A4, so I could sketch over it and get a clearer sense of flow. Then began a loooong process of printing out tiny photocopies and rearranging the panels to be legible. It was a difficult balance of communicating busyness while making sure the hierarchy/reading order made sense.

After some tweaking, i printed out an A3 copy to draw my panel borders and text.

Doing this on a separate piece of paper means I don't have to worry so much about messing up the text or borders when drawing the characters. This allows me to be more free and expressive with my illustration.

Woah! Quick trip back in time!! During the thumbnailing process I drew these warm up sketches! I looooved the way the linework came out. I drew this on an A3 piece of paper - and the shocked Gem would, in theory, be one of the smallest panels. So I decided to do a crazy thing.

I touched up the sketch digitally, compiling some of my favourite warm up sketches, some traditional sketches made for the panels, and filling the rest in digitally. Then I printed this image out in QUATERS at A3!! This meant the final sketch layer, printed out was A1!! (aka very large, considering the final file would be at A4, about 8x smaller)

I did this so I could get fairly small detailed lines with my pencil while being quite expressive and firm with my mark-making. Slowly, I dlined all of the panels traditionally and scanned them in. Then I assembled the finished linework on Photoshop, along with the text and panel borders and got to colouring :D

final linework :D

For colouring, I played a little bit with halftone but I found the texture made it feel a bit too busy - the panels are already doing enough. Because of this, I also decided to use a limited colour palette. Here are some images of the colouring process, which I won't go into today.

I'm really happy with how this came out - I think it captures the chaos of the moment, while taking time to linger on the emotion of it. Keeping that bow moment really made it, I think.

I think the last panel is still quite weak. Earlier in the process there was a low-angle shot of Gem about to kill Scott which may have been more powerful, but I think I was struggling with my actual drawing skill when it comes to perspective. A lot of learning how to draw, and in particular with comics, is about knowing where your skills are at, how to utilise them best and how to test and push them.

I'm glad that I started again, instead of finishing that composition I wasn't happy with. It was a tough project but I learnt sooooo much from it, and it's been essential skill-building for.... the current comic I'm working on (stay tuned!!! :0) Thanks for reading this incredibly long post! Go check out @trafficzine and look at all the other cool art Cool vibes and silly men,

Archie :D

[crxshed-skxlls]

Hello there, I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to do something with Bloody Painter for me.

Thank you in advance.

Oo I'll gladly be willing. No worries, your sins are my command 🙏

— ❝ 15 Bloody Painter x Gn!Reader headcanons

NSFW tags: Mention of mirror sex, Exhibitionism, breath play, Blood play, S&M elements, aftercare headcanons, breeding, mentions of "pussy/ass drunk"

Viewer discretion is advised, as always.

NSFW headcanons:

Bloody Painter (or Helen) is a switch. He isn't too use to the idea of sex, but he prefers to dominate in situations. Helen only bottoms maybe once or twice of you catch him off guard.

Speaking of bottoming -- you may have to show him how to properly be intimate with you your first couple tries. After he gets the hang of it, you two should be on your merry ways.

Helen totally has a blood kink. He would find it arousing to see you covered with dark crimson, whether it be from your own or from his blood paints.

Helen isn't really a noisy person when it comes to sex. He'll let out a couple now and then, but he usually let's out breathy sounds and grunts.

Helen likes to tease you sometimes with the areas he picks for sex. He loves to fuck you in front of a mirror just to mumble how pretty you look in the reflection. His blue eyes wandering the spectacle like a marvelous work of art.

Helen likes to be choked. Whether you top him or not, the buzzed feeling to his head always gives him pleasure. He doesn't mind giving it either, his strong grip to your throat as he watches you let out choked moans is pure pleasure.

Helen isnt much of a talker during sex. He'll give a couple bits and pieces of dialogue, but sometimes he's just too focused on giving you pleasure to think of words.

Compared to the other creeps, Helen is actually pretty vanilla amongst them. He doesn't exactly like bondage, and definitely not voyuerism -- but he can have his experimental moments.

Helen is a sadomasochist. You can't win when it comes to pain with this painter. He wouldn't mind inflicting pain on you anyways, listening to your beautiful voice.

Helen has a breeding kink. He loves to babble on as he thrusts into you about how beautiful your children would look, and you had to admit sometimes it makes you blush more than ever.

Because of how unused he is to sexual intimacy (hes often busy with his "work"), Helen is incredibly sensitive. Hell, if you put in enough work you could get Helen pussy/ass drunk. His blue eyes flickering as you ride his cock, his breathy moans leaving him shaky.

Aftercare Headcanons:

Helen is incredibly good at making you feel comfortable after sex. Whether it be just cuddling you or giving you a tender bath, he is just skilled at letting your body untense and wind down.

Helen loves setting up intimate bubble baths with you when he can. He definitely spoils you after such intimate moments.

Helen appreciates any praise or compliments after sex. He loves listening to you mumble praises as you both cuddle together.

When you end up drifting off to sleep after a long session, Helen loves to tuck you in and make sure your okay if he ever needs to leave. He usually presses soft kisses on your head, mumbling a goodbye as he reluctantly slips out of bed.

[erisweekofficial]

We're thrilled to shine a light on @zenkindoflove!!! Amanda is an absolute gem in the Elucien fandom AND Eris fandom and has also blessed us with Alexius, her incredible OC for her Eris x OC fics.

Alexius stands out as one of the few male OCs in the community, and the dynamic between him and Eris is nothing short of captivating. Think forced proximity, delicious yearning, witty banter, political intrigue, and all the tension you could dream of. You can see them in both Summer Heat (which has Elucien) and Pull Me in Deeper, which... y'all you gotta read this asap😍🤭🥵 Also the mods are begging you to read Taste of You, a short and delightfully smutty one shot.

And PLEASE admire this amazing art of Alexius and Eris!

Read more to learn about how @zenkindoflove was inspired to create content about Eris AND her extremely helpful tips for writing content about him. (We're taking notes)

What inspired you to start creating content about Eris?  I became curious about writing Eris after he was featured in some of my Elucien fics. When I started my multichapter Elucien fic Summer Heat, I decided that I would give him a male love interest in that fic and create an OC - which ended up being Alexius who you see featured in all of my Eris work. I originally intended for it to be a background relationship, but I decided to experiment and write the scene of their first meeting (a very smutty scene) just to do some character exploration. I didn’t intend to include it in the fic, but then once I wrote it, I knew that it was something special and Eris x Alexius became a true B storyline in that fic with a fully fleshed out love story. After that, I wanted to expand and write fics that focused on them which I've written several now and more to come for Eris Week! It's a bit niche. Hardly anyone writes Eris x Male OC but I'm obsessed now.

What's your favorite piece you've created featuring Eris and why? 

That would be my Eris x Alexius multichapter fic - Pull Me in Deeper. I love it because it was a way for me to explore Eris’ character when he is out of the watchful eye of his father and others in Prythian. It’s also just a fun action/adventure/romance story and I got to explore more lore and character building for my OC Alexius as well. Alexius was designed to be, in my opinion, the perfect person for Eris and that means often standing in contrast to a lot of his personality traits and pushing him outside of his comfort zone. So it was an incredibly fun dynamic to explore. And it’s two gay men who are on a quest to find out (*spoilers*) if unicorns exist XD.

How do you approach writing dialogue for Eris? 

I tend to lean into Eris being more careful with his words - so he is sharp, concise, and efficient in his word choice. Depending on who he’s sharing a scene with and the context, he can be severe and short or he can be long-winded and eloquent. And of course, he has banter and jabs a plenty. So I try to balance all those sides of him depending on the context.

Do you have any advice for other creators wanting to make Eris content? 

Eris inhabits a unique space in canon where he is truly a free agent when it comes to relationships. So, I would recommend if you want to write romances with Eris to lean into self-indulgence and write the pairing/story you really want to tell and try to let go of what you think will be popular. And if that ends up being Eris x OC rather than a canon character, know that it can actually be such a rewarding experience even if you don’t have a built in audience. Creating an OC to pair with Eris has been immensely fun and has broadened my creativity. Eris is a complex, interesting character with so many layers and building someone to fit him and find out what is underneath all of those layers can lead you down quite an obsessive path. But a fun one. 

Please give us a name for one of Eris’s Brothers

Kian. He is the third oldest and is more of a scholarly type. Now that second brother Conan is dead, he is next in line after Eris.

Please give us a name for one of Eris's Dogs.

Lithia. She just had puppies in PMID and Eris is worried about her. 

[kerryweaverlesbian]

A friend of mine asked for advice on writing a poem so, I figured I'd share it more widely. This is how I personally tend to go through the process (although sometimes poems just come in a stream of consciousness and I'm like damn where'd you come from???)

This gets long so, under the cut

To me, a poem is circling around an idea through building a structure, so:

1. Figure out a key idea that connects two things together("smoke is a metaphor for hidden places" + "Mary Supernatural's relationship to motherhood" = "Mary Supernatural's hidden feelings about motherhood explored through the metaphor of a house fire")

OR a scene where something very sensory is happening ("eating a live octopus", "running on a cold day")

2. Write a short paragraph of whatever comes into my head as I think about that. Connections to other works, random lines, images, concepts. The ideas can be cliché and shit and not be used in the final piece!!

I'll do one rn for the octopus concept:

"What could the octopus be a metaphor for? Struggling to create a piece of work? Like how I rotate pieces of media around in my head for a while sometimes without getting a clear thought on them, as I am with Mouthwashing right now. The struggling kick of life. A life without hands, only senses. A constant reaching forever. Maybe a squid would be better, it releases cloudy ink...? But it's not as big as an octopus. Poem speaker confused between squid and octopus. The sensation of being strangled from the inside by the octopus tentacles. Fighting against yourself and your own instincts to give up. Tears forming as ideas form. Salt and copper. The tongue is kind of like a tentacle in itself. 'I swallow it, until it becomes mine'."

^ this helps solidify the ideas of the poem without having to battle through 3 or 4 drafts while looking at a blank page willing ideas to come out. Sometimes I just do that part in my head but it can be helpful to refer back.

What I love about poetry is that you can just skip to the exciting bit! You don't need a bunch of characters or scene descriptions or dialogue. It can all be the bit that makes you go hell yeah cool cool cool!! (<- guy who finds literary analysis cool)

3. Whichever of those ideas speak to you, use some to write a first stanza. The rhythm can be whatever sounds good in your head:

"I'm eating an octopus

(Live)

With gusto,

It's fighting me back but I bite."

So now we have an established rhythm! For this one it's

7 syllables [no comma]

(a short aside)

3 syllables,

8 syllables.

Now for the rest of the poem I can use that same rhythm, which keeps me focused. If you don't want to come up with your own rhythm, there's plenty of established poetry rhythms and rhyme schemes, if you google "types of poem" they will appear as if by magic. And of course you don't have to use a pattern at all. Again, this is just what I do.

To be clear, I don't tend to literally count out the syllables, you can feel what the rhythm is by saying the poem out loud (which you should do FREQUENTLY as you write to make sure the emPHAsis doesn't go ON the WRONG word). There's poetry terms for emphasis but I don't know them because I only did up to AS level poetry 😉

If you ever find the rhythm isn't working, change it. It's your poem. Do whatever you want. Changing the rhythm can also be used to show "this is a change/escalation in idea". It's a song with a bridge.

4. Keep talking about different parts of the metaphor in that structure:

"The tentacles writhing

(I chew, I chew)

A battle,

A hunt for the truth.

The hinge of my jaw

(It hurts, it hurts)

Unkindly,

I stick in my tooth."

^ I often slip into rhyming, this also helps not get stuck thinking of literally any word from the english language that could be used. As Monica from FRIENDS says, "rules help control the fun!"

"The [something] of muscle,

(My tongue? Its leg?)

My burden,

My begging for proof."

^ my close personal friend square brakets when I can't think of a description this instant! Wooo!

"[Some sort of 5th stanza that has an end rhyme for proof, maybe with the "salt and copper" concept?]

I'm eating an octopus

(Live)

But I'm winning

It's hard, but it's worth it, the fight."

^As you can see I added an extra syllable for the second to last line, you gotta just listen to your heart sometimes. When ending things I like to harken back to the beginning! It can be a little cheesey sometimes but that's okay, poems are allowed to be cheesey!

That's my general approach. Something that really, really helps with writing poetry is also... reading poetry. You get to experience a lot of rhythms and rhyme schemes and ways of talking about ideas and how different poets use the foundation of a poem to express their meanings. Reading this poem back, I was writing spontaneously but I can very clearly see influences of A A Milne (my mum's favourite poet!), The Jellyfish by Marianne Moore and my dear friend @lesbianjoannaharvelle 's poem I wish I could draw for the theme of wrestling with creativity. Our works are in conversation! Isn't that cool!!

Anyway. Kiss kiss.

[alpaca-clouds]

Baldur's Gate 3 and the Grooming Theme

I am on my second playthrough by now (the Astarion origin) and it really becomes even more apparent how grooming is kind of a central theme with all six of the origin characters. And funnily enough, I am not entirely sure whether it is intentional or more accidental. Mostly because I am not entirely certain whether the creators have realized how much the Gale-Mystra relationship reads as grooming and how much the entire Gith culture is basically about grooming their young into those perfect warriors.

The abuse aspect is fairly clear with Astarion and Shadowheart. If I am not entire mistaken, there is even dialogue in game that calls out Shadowheart's experience as grooming explicitly.

Let me go through all the Origin Six one by one.

Astarion gets basically groomed by Cazador, which kinda partly gets clearer if you consider that while under humans he would have been considered as an adult, among elves he would not have been. With him it is a clearer abuse situation, due to all the torture and violence we know he was subjected to. But Cazador in general tried to turn his spawn into what he imagined them to be. (There is a lot of speculation going on that he focused so much on Astarion, because Astarion reminded him of himself.) We also learn from Astarion that he tried to be what Cazador wanted him to be - though he clearly never succeeded.

Shadowheart embodies one of the most classical grooming scenarios. Often these day we use grooming to refer explicitly to sexual grooming - but the word is also often used in religious contexts, especially when it comes to cults. And yes, basically Shadowheart got kidnapped as a child and quite literally brainwashed to be a follower of Shar. We do not have that many details, but those we have actually do fit rather well with grooming inside of cults. And in her case this happened very clearly with the implicit knowledge of the people doing the grooming of what they were doing.

With Karlach we do not quite know how old she was, when she started to work for Gortash. But from all we learn she was probably in her teens. We have not many dialogues of her referring explicitly to what exactly happened between her and Gortash, outside of him selling her off to Zariel. But we have bits and pieces that sound a terrible lot like lovebombing. Of Gortash always knowing how to praise her that she would feel good about herself. Which, too, is a very typical grooming tactic. And what we know sounds like he kinda groomed her into the perfect bodyguard - before he sold her off.

With Wyll it is the clearest in so many ways, because we see him and Mizora interact with each other quite a bit. And make no mistake, Mizora very much groomed him. He was fucking 19 when he made that contract - and all we learn sounds like tons and tons of gaslighting happening between them, denying him to have any sense of reality. And I mean, just look at the official artwork with the two of them. While canonical there is nothing sexual happening between them (unless you do a Wyll playthrough and do the one night stand with Mizora)... It definitely feels at least somewhat sexually charged and she is quite touchy with him.

There has been a lot of discussion about Gale in this regard. Most of all because we do not get to know that much about how his relationship with Mystra went on. With Gale we do not know how old he is now, we know even less how old he was when Mystra took him in. But it for sure feels a lot like grooming, especially once you consider the inescapable power imbalance between a god and a mortal human. Given that Gale is still very enarmored with Mystra as we meet him - despite her abandoning him - we mostly hear rosy memories from him. But just his entire interaction when she fucking commands him to kill himself... Yeah that sounds a lot like grooming.

Finally there is Lae'zel. With her it is also more the cultish kind of grooming. Because the entire Gith culture under Vlaakith is basically a cult. We kinda see it when we interact with the Gith kids in the Monestary, who very much have absorbed this idea of the culture, going so far as killing and torturing each other. We also see that in Lae'zel if we talk with her about it and she looks at this and is like "Yeah, nothing wrong with that." Personally I found Lae'zel hardest to deal with because of this. Because she has absorbed all this stuff from her culture and when she follows those ideals she still thinks she is doing good/right. Like, Shadowheart can be a shitty person and Astarion definitely is. But they both kinda get that their behavior at times is shitty - while Lae'zel goes "this is right and good!"

Technically speaking we even see this partly in the villains. Orin definitely was groomed into the murder hobo she is. That makes her not the least bit less evil - but it was not as if she ever had a choice to become anything other than a murder hobo. And while I would argue that technically speaking Gortash was not exactly groomed (or maybe he was groomed by Bane?), he definitely also has been turned into a shitty person through childhood trauma.

To be honest, it is all this trauma that comes from all those experiences, though, that makes me just wanna write for this fandom so much. Because... Well, there is so much healing to do for those characters. And all those healing stuff is kinda the stuff I am all here for, when it comes to writing.

[likealittleheartbeat]

hiyya!

this is something i've seen come up quite often in recent discourse about zuko, and about how he doesn't truly learn to let go of his prejudices linked to his upbringing by the final.

he is often criticized (i think rightfully so) for his treatment of aang in 'the southern raiders' ep: even though his actions may be fuelled by his desperation to make up with katara, and his own feelings of grief and anger, he is still too dismissive of (or one might say offensive towards) aang's advice and, consequentially, the philosophy of the air nomads.

in the final coronation scene, we see him acknowledge the fact that "the avatar is the real hero", and he swears to rebuild his nation "in love and peace", which definitely shows a fundamental change in his values. but. i wonder if he has matured enough to be able to respect aang as not just the avatar, but as an air nomad as well; if he has learned to appreciate not only his heroism, but his philosophy too.

i thought i'd ask your opinion on this since i really enjoy your reading of zuko and aang's relationship. how do you reconcile zuko's often dismissive nature with seeing him as aang's best friend and soulmate, the one who should be the most understanding of him?

thank you if you end up answering this, i'll really appreciate it!:)

I just think a reading of zuko as not fully reformed by the end is...just...a really bad faith take of a show all about hope and belief and (dare I say it?) FAITH.

What the Southern Raiders episode shows and is supposed to show regarding both Zuko and Katara in relation to Aang is NOT their total disregard for his culture but their need to experience and appreciate values of his culture for themselves, which is a core tenet of, at least, Zen Buddhism, but I'm pretty sure it's pretty significant to other Buddhisms and Taoism. Aang points to the moon of forgiveness, but if they were to simply take him for his word, they would have only seen his finger pointing and never have seen the moon he had hoped to show them by pointing towards it.

There is this kind of analysis that people do of ATLA and plenty of other shows that focuses on the dialogue and plot-explicit actions in a series with a literal and almost mathematical approach, ignoring the emotional beats, the narrative arcs, the figurative meanings, and the poetic experiences the show invokes. Often these kind of takes are sociological (focused on societal organizational structures and the identities they impose) and/or super rationalist (interested in the continuities and reasoning within a show as if a work of art and its characters must behave realistically). And they tend to be weaponized to denigrate a show or character (although both critique strategies could be and have been used to praise). The issue with both being used exclusively or even in tandem is how intellectual they are. They disregard emotional experiences for characters, for creators, and for the audience. I'm not inviting people to flip entirely to an emotional response--clearly I prefer a pretty intellectual approach myself. But a path that can bring in the heart and the mind into an analysis that is generous and wise ought to be the end goal, not necessarily of a single piece of writing but of your overall collaborative contribution to the analysis.

To get back to your question now, it's pretty hard for me to see Zuko, as the fucking emperor at his own coronation, saying that he should not be celebrated but instead giving the glory over to "the Avatar" as anything other than Zuko putting the value of humility so important to the air nomads into practice. And then we see him accepting help from Mai to put on his robe, serving tea to the gaang in Ba Sing Se (which demonstrates the reopened connections with the other nations), and naming his friendship with Aang, not the Avatar but Aang! Idk what more people want.

I have a guess, though. People want perfection. They want Zuko to jump beyond the limits of his narrative and history to be a political ideal that will never falter, that can say all the right words (somehow in the last five minutes of the series), that won't provide the springboard for the modernity that comes about in Korra. They want his "redemption arc" to be about "redemption" in the Christian sense, the deliverance from sin and its consequences into a post-show afterlife of purity. The purpose of the Avatar and the lesson Aang both learns and teaches his friends is about aiming for balance and the value of humanity. That is the key value he brings from the air nomads, and it's the one Zuko has integrated for himself by the end of the series. It doesn't mean he did everything right by Aang once he joined the gaang, only that he stopped demanding perfection from himself and others, easing the frustration and self-hatred that had plagued him. He also doesn't need to blindly agree with Aang or Katara's ideas just because they were marginalized by his people (and him directly lol), but Zuko's field trips are all about him observing and supporting others, which requires him to accept that he has more to learn and that's okay.

Humility is so unpopular in the discourse where I'm at rn because it's seen as self-effacement, when, in fact, humility has more traditionally been understood as acknowledging and expressing gratitude for the people, circumstances, and gifts that have allowed you to be in the position your in and have the chance, skill, and responsibility to act. Aang expresses humility in the choices he makes to acknowledge his culture. Zuko does this as he acknowledges Aang and the guiding force of the Avatar.

[technovillain]

I am always thinking so hard about the choice for church imagery in Hollis' mind and what it means for her character. I would say for sure that her inner-sanctum when trying to solve a crisis being a church would suggest that she is religious or had a religious upbringing.

The pews are full of figments of hospital patients. They are nondescript figures but their presence paired with her area to process is by the pulpit suggests that she sees herself as a sort of guide to others in this time, especially helping the helpless find a sense of salvation.

At the very front of this church rest the main dilemma Hollis faces, and based on her train of thought and general dialogue, it is easy to assume that this is a mental connection that she comes back to often. Risk with Death. The stained glass window behind this tableau depicts a shining sun, beneath which lies a cloud, beneath which lies a fade from blue to pink, not unlike a sunset. It could just be pretty decoration or could be indicative of the idea that just beyond any clouded idea or concept (taking a risk) there lies the possbility of an end (death).

I feel it could be argued either way that she has a positive or negative relationship with religion based on the imagery alone, but I feel it is safest and likely more accurate to simply say that it is a complicated one. We don't know anything about religion in the Psychonauts universe, which is why this choice of imagery was so fascinating to me. We have no clue what the major religions are like, or how psychic abilities would possibly play into religious affiliation or scrutiny. Not making any assumptions on that front, the symbolism of this being Hollis' safe space in her mind says that she, at the very least, sees a church building as a safe location, likely due to events in her past. She would want to come here to be alone with her thoughts, sort of like processing thoughts and seeking help for herself or others through prayer or self-reflection.

But this idea of Risk = Death being at the very center of the church could also imply a type of religious trauma that caused her to experience a form of death anxiety, barring her from knowing what risks are appropriate and therefore taking none to protect herself and others.

Despite all of this, there is another route that could be taken to interpret this symbolism that could go hand-in-hand with religious affiliation or could go unconnected. For many of those who are not religious, a church is still an important space which often reflects two major changes in a person's life: funerals or weddings.

After the hot streak section of the level, we see that the church windows now have hearts on the windows. Hollis is kneeling on the ground, something that would typically be associated with prayer, but she is gambling on the table....the table which could arguably be like a casket at the front of the church.

Another way to look at the stained glass motifs could indicate the first one being like her focusing on the idea of death as an impending inevitability to be avoided at all costs. The church being covered in hearts later on has a notably different vibe. I am reeeaching here but the first one could be more like a funeral and the later one could be more like a wedding, a time in a church that has a notably more carefree vibe than a lot of church services (although this does vary from church to church and denominationally) and Hollis does mention having a husband in one piece of dialogue relating to the socks and sandals....

Who knows! I am doing some stretching and just bringing up some symbolism. Please feel free to bring up more symbolism that you might find or other interpretations!

[rayadraws]

Tagged by @criscura !

And in return I tag... everyone who sees this and wants to do it!

How many wips do you have currently?

One, though it remains to be seen if I'll post it or just keep it for myself. It's technically original fiction I suppose, it's starring my dragon, Sorrel. The original premise/visual was a scene where his mother searches out his father, demanding that he helps rescue her - their - son, practically attacking him to get him to agree. Two dragons cooperating to help a third one? Practically unheard of, what happened to that third dragon..?

I also have my oneshot collection and the old boys AU for opm, which are always open for new additions whenever an idea might pop up.

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish?

Well, I do just have the one right now... but it's one of those where you kinda keep going "geez, this is self-indulgent" /// over and over you know? It's as if this original fic, with my OC, was catered specifically to my own interests, weird huh. But it makes me pause or second guess myself sometimes.

Progress IS also slow on it because I'm prioritizing my RPs first.

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

Nope! I just hop between the ones I already have. Actually I tend to write in silence fairly often.

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organized?

I've done both! It depends on the plot, how well thought out the idea is etc. I think it does help a lot to have a solid plan but there's been times where it just worked out going in on a prayer. My last piece of writing flowed very easily, I was surprised. But I've definitely gotten stuck in the past because I didn't know where to go/end up and it can be stressful.

I do a lot of similar plotting with one of my RP partners and it helps a LOT I think, plus you can place openings, hints and so on much easier in your writing if you know roughly what's going to happen in the future.

When I pre-write stuff it's usually focused on the dialogue and then I build the scene around it.

[ddarker-dreams]

Hi! I have a question, you can ignore this if you want to but I’ve found myself really loving the way you write and the range of writing you can articulate as well. Speaking from someone who is nowhere close to that level of skill you possess, would you mind being able to explain your journey of writing, if you practiced any particular methods or anything else to get to this stage you are at right now? Unless you have been gifted the talent of writing from birth and didn’t need to try for much long or long enough to call it a journey. Could you also spare some tips and advice for someone who wants to start writing stories and what to look into/practice?

I love your work a lot and I am constantly waiting for the notification of your new posts, despite not being a writer myself I do love breaking down and analysing writing and your stories are always such good options for me to look into. Thank you so much for writing and sparing your time to produce such well done pieces of work — I felt extremely corny writing this, excuse me for this language, I promise I’m not a pimp!

THIS ISN'T CORNY AT ALL!!!! ❌🌽❌!!!!

i'm deeply grateful for all your kind words, thank you so so much 😭

i don't mean this in a self-deprecating way, but i've never considered myself a gifted or super incredible writer, i just get hype about story ideas and try to make them as good as i can. due to that, i start sweating when people ask for advice because i don't consider myself qualified... i do have a writing advice tag, but take everything i say with a grain of salt!! if it's fanfic literally all that matters is that you enjoy whatever you're writing.

i'm more than happy to share my writing journey though!! it's kinda fun to reminiscence.

i've loved reading and writing ever since i was a little lock. while thinking about this ask, it occurred to me that what i've always been the most invested in are the characters. i'd think about 275894275 different storylines with them. i didn't start writing fanfic until i was around 11 though, everything was handwritten. or in flipnote hatena.

i did a lot of fanfic writing from 11-14 buuuut then my interest in it kinda fizzled out. it wasn't until i watched hxh for the first time that i took it up again bc chrollo is that powerful. that's when i started conceptualizing HWR. i looked at my early writing folder, the first HWR fanfic i wrote was in 2016 when i was 15 ?? here's a cursed excerpt:

anyway, once i started making googly eyes at chrollo, it was gg. i've been writing often ever since.

what's helped me the most is to focus on the elements i find interesting. for example, i like fleshing out my MCs, focusing on dialogue, and developing a universe around the main pairing. because i enjoy this so much it's (mostly) always easy to devote time and effort toward it.

so i think it comes down to finding out what niches you like and working with those. some writers prefer to write with heavy prose, others are more succinct, some writers like dialogue, others prefer to be more action based... etc etc. this does require a little time if you're completely new to writing, but you know yourself best. you'll eventually pick up on what part of the story you're most excited to write.

this isn't particularly mind-blowing or anything but i hope it helps some 😭 what completely Altered my mindset was when i realized i can be as self-indulgent as humanly possible. cringe is not in my vocabulary. write a MC where every single character is in love with them if you want. write a 100k word fic about your OC being isekaid into x world. post about your f/os, draw art of you with your fav, go ham.

[redgoldsparks]

November 2023 Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Frankisstein by Jeanette Winterson read by John Sackville and Perdita Weeks

This book has three different story lines, one of which is much stronger than the other two, which is making it hard for me to figure out how I want to rate the book. The opening story line, and my favorite, is about Mary Shelley during the period in which she wrote Frankenstein. These scenes especially in the audiobook are beautifully read and atmospheric, damp, melancholy, introspective, with engaging characterizations of Byron, Percy Shelley, and the other guests of the house. The second story line is about Ry Shelley, a trans doctor living in post-Brexit Britain who becomes entangled romantically and criminally with Victor Stein, a researcher focused on AI, cryogenic preservation and reanimation, and training robots to detect human diseases. Ry is fairly genderfluid, and is often described as both a man and a woman, or a boy who is a girl who is a boy. I appreciated having a trans POV character in this book, but wished Ry had more of his own ambitions and plot- he seemed to exist primarily to have conversations and sex with Victor, who insisted over and over that he wasn't gay even after falling for and sleeping with Ry. Ry also interviews and then is repeatedly misgendered by Ron Lord, a Welsh entrepreneur in the sex robot industry- there is a lot in this book about sex bots, including huge chunks of uninterrupted dialogue by Ron Lord that got fairly repetitive in audio. Ry is also the victim of a bathroom sexual assault near the end of the book that felt thematically unnecessary and punishing. I can imagine a different version of this book where Ry was the one conducting the research that Victor does in this book, and his love interest is a modern version of Percy, which might have interested me more. There's also a third partial story line about Mary Shelley meeting a man named Victor Frankenstein who claims to be the character from her book; these didn't add anything for me. Would I recommend this? Hard to say. It's a complicated queer remix of Frankenstein and I was engaged while listening to the majority of it but there were also pieces that fell short of my expectations.

The Hills of Estrella Roja by Ashley Robin Franklin 

High school senior Mari is woken from a nightmare about voices calling to her from a pit in a cave to learn that her grandmother is dead. Mari, her mom, and her little sister drive back to Estrella Roja, their small mysterious Texas hometown. Meanwhile, Kat, a college freshman who runs a podcast about the paranormal with her best friend, receives an anonymous email tip about the "devil lights" of Estrella Roja and decides to solo road trip to investigate it over her spring break. Kat can't find anyone in town willing to to talk to her... except Mari, who is both sad and bored, and can't seem to connect with any of her close-mouthed relatives. The two stumble across something in the desert that was spooky enough to make me wonder if I should be reading the book before bedtime. This story weaves a queer meet-cute with a dark family history into a very effective YA horror tale. The inking and coloring are absolutely gorgeous. Scary, but not too scary for me, a known scaredy cat!

The Dyslexic Advantage by Brock L Eide and Fernette F Eide 

I highly recommend this book to anyone who has dyslexia, is parenting a young person with dyslexia, works in education at any level or is just in general interested in how differing brain structures effect things such as working memory, 3D visualization, problem solving, and other areas of cognition. I've known I was dyslexic since I was about 8 years old, but I had never picked up a book on the topic. I found this very interesting and very easy to read (its printed in a san-serif font with large page margins, and also short well-structured chapters). It contains many real-life stories of people with dyslexia rising to the very pinnacle of their chosen fields as well as a good section of layperson's neuroscience of brain structure and some of the latest research on memory formation. The authors do an excellent job highlighting how so many of the things that are cast as weaknesses or drawbacks in dyslexic students' early education are often reshaped into strengths later in life. Multiple times the authors emphasized that while dyslexic students should receive extra instruction in reading in early childhood, that they probably won't catch up their peers until later in life, often in high school or beyond and that one of the most important things is never letting the dyslexic student give up on their own ability to learn, thrive, and succeed. Most dyslexics are late bloomers, but as the book says, "time is on your side."

Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross read by Alex Wingfield and Rebecca Norfolk

Set in a kind of fantasy WWI, this story follows Iris, a young woman who had to drop out of high school after her brother enlisted and her only other relative, her mother, fell into depression and alcoholism and lost her job. Iris begins working at a newspaper, vying for a regular columnist position against her office rival, handsome and wealthy Roman Kitt. Iris has a magical typewriter, and she writes letters to her brother regularly, even though she's never received one back from him. She slips these letters under the door of her wardrobe and in the morning they are gone. What she doesn't know is that the letters are making their way into the bedroom of Roman, who also has a magic typewriter. They begin a correspondence and a budding friendship. But a series of misfortunes befall Iris and she decides to enlist at the front as a wartime journalist. Will Roman follow the woman he's beginning to fall for? Will he ever tell Iris than he is her penpal confidant? This story was fast paced and interesting throughout, but at the end I was left with some critiques. Primarily, the way the book simplifies war by making the cause of war a divine conflict outside of mortal responsibility. It felt like an extremely watered down version of a wartime romance, with none of the political questions that would have plagued the characters had the book been set in actual WWI or WWII. The book also has a cliffhanger ending, and sets up a plot twist that will probably delight some readers but which unfortunately falls into one of my LEAST fantasy favorite romance tropes. So I will not be reading the second one unless someone else reads it first and spoils some of the plot for me!

Land of Milk and Honey by C Pam Zhang read by Eunice Wong

What a delicious book, in many senses of that word! The unnamed main character is a Chinese-American chef from Los Angeles who is stranded in London by natural disaster. A toxic gray smog envelopes the majority of the world, killing most crops and animals. Countries close their borders as their populations being to starve. The chef is offered an unbelievable job in a billionaire's small private country, a mountaintop in Italy which still has access to some sunlight and caters to a set of unbelievably wealthy residents who bought their way in. The chef lies on her resume, padding it out a fictional degree from a French culinary school and experience at closed Micheline start restaurant. The chef is granted access to the country for a probation period and re-encounters a lush array of ingredients she thought were extinct from the world: fresh berries and greens, rich cream and butter, unpreserved meats and fish. Under the cold eye of her cruel employer and his charismatic and ambitious daughter the chef tries to prove she can cook dishes that will astonish the 1%. Little does she know she was hired as much for her skill in lying as her ability to cook well. This book had more queerness, more speculative elements, and more hope for a world destroyed by human greed than I was expecting. The descriptions of food, flavors, textures, and the intersection of appetite with pleasure are rich, powerful and evocative. I really enjoyed this and I particularly recommend the audiobook.

The Mysteries by Bill Watterson and John Kascht 

Watterson's first offering in many years is a strange little picture book. This fable opens with a kingdom surrounded by a deep dark forest. The people are fearful of mysteries which live in the forest, so the king sends his knights into the forest to capture a mystery. Most return empty handed, or do not return at all. One knight captures a mystery and it is not what the people expected. The art is quite elegant, black and white photographs of dolls posed in blurry but evocative settings. The story is very slight, and I'm not sure it delivered on the depth it seemed to be reaching for. Maybe check this one out from the library rather than buying it.

Everything is Beautiful and I Am Not Afraid by Yao Xiao 

I've been following Yao Xiao's work online for several years and I'm really glad I finally made time to read the collection! The brightly colored pages are full of small, poem-like comics that circle and return to multiple themes: self-esteem, coming out as queer, being a Chinese American immigrant living in the US, trust, taking up space, trusting in one's own strength and the love of friends and community. The artist draws themself as a small character with orange hair and a black elf hat and moves like a spite through urban landscapes, clouds, dreams, gardens, hopes, fears and other elements of the unconscious. There's no overarching narrative, but the many small experiences add up to a greater sum than their parts.

Fool’s Errand by Robin Hobb read by Nick Taylor

This book begins 15 years after the end of the Farseer trilogy. Fitz, the bastard son of royalty, trained as an assassin, who survived torture, a war, a coup, multiple attempts on his life, a long dangerous journey, deadly magic, and the death of his king and close friend, has retired to a small cottage near the sea. He lives a small peaceful life there with his old wolf, Nighteyes, his adopted son Hap, a pony, some chickens, and a garden. He's working on his memoirs. Then the world turns up at his door again, demanding as much of himself as he has to give, again. Kettricken's son, the Farseer heir, is missing and no one knows if he was kidnapped or ran away or something more sinister. This story was EVERYTHING I WANTED AND MORE! One of the best books I've read this year, a rich, emotional, satisfying return to the Farseer world. I love how this book deepened and complicated Fitz's relationships from the previous book: with Chade, Starling, Nighteyes and most especially with the Fool who is once again living at court in a completely new guise. Every character in this series feels so real, so grounded, so impacted by the events of the world, and the consequences of their own choices. I've been disappointed by a lot of the fantasy I've read this year, but this one not only met but exceeded my expectations- especially because I read this book once before, when I was 16, and didn't love it then. Now I am obsessed with it. I think I just wasn't ready to read a book about adults and the uncaring passage of time as a teenager. Literally thirty minutes after finished the audiobook of this book I started the sequel because I couldn't wait to find out what happened next!

[marierg]

Of Light and Darkness: The Rising Darkness pt. 5

Rated: Mature (yeah check the warnings folks)

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi X Reader

WARNINGS!: DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING IF YOU ARE NOT IN A GOOD MENTAL PLACE! Death/ Dying, survivors guilt, depression, Suicidal thoughts/ ideations, PTS flare up, angst, talk of medical procedures and autonomy (previous denial alluded too), stress reactions, cursing, and Cannon typical violence. Uh yeah not light reading...

But also hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, marriage proposals... so not all bad!

A/N: I take no credit for the movie dialogue that is all the work of the wonderful Mr. Lucas!!!! THIS IS A LOVING WORK OF FANFICTION!!! With that said I did take more than a few liberties but I tried to pull from the film/ books and meld it into a cohesive piece. Much love to all the prequels and the folks there in!

With all said I will take this opportunity to say that it will be a minute till the next part! I have to figure out how I want this to follow the series and frankly this part just wiped me out. Hope y'all enjoy!

Picture Credit: Deviant Art and pinterest;

Words: 9000ish... yeah it was worse before i edited. ENJOY!

“Droid get over here with that...”

“I need more bandages!”

“No you will not kriffing take my patient until I'm done with them! I don't care what your CO said, your CO can bite me!”

It was the chorus of an all to familiar ture that you awoke to, smelling blood and bacta and battlefield. Laying in a triage area surrounded by troopers and Jedi alike, cots or the red dirt floor shaking with the ever nearing hits of artillery. Every inch of your body aching as you swung your legs down, the ground began to spin. Yes, you knew this waltz well, but dear Force how you wished the dance would stop.

“Ma'am can we take this bed?”

Glancing up at the medic in his polished armor you observed the trooper on the litter. He bled from the socket where his eye should have been, long painful gashes in the wake of shrapnel. Making a give over motion you assisted the transfer, urging the injured man to lay back as the medic administered a sedative. Defaulting to work mode you began to assess the man. “The wound needs cleaning and fresh bandages then send him straight through to the surgeon.”

“We can't ma'am, surgery was hit. This is it till we can get the ships off the ground again.” The medic tilted his helmet at you in silent resignation.

“Dear merciful Force.” Pain, so much pain and death. “Whose in charge of this mess?”

The trooper points to the loudest of the beings working among the wounded. Braids covered in dust and mud, face weary but focused as she barked orders over the din. “You will return them to this triage and those troopers will receive care! I don't give a flying KARK you fucking droid, they've earned every opportunity we can give them!”

In all of her time as a rescue specialist, even after all the missions Tyra had never seen anything like this. It reminded her of the stories her grandfather told of the war on her home world. The small Jedi who assigned her the task had motioned with his staff and simply replied...

“For the Valkar search the field of battle, and the brave shall they return.”

Her squad had been at it for hours even after the small Jedi had returned with Kaboomie, Speedster and you. Tyra would have liked to see all three of you onto the nearest ship, but with the limited space available choices had been made. She saw to your care personally with some assistance from a Mirialan named Barris. Tyra would give the girl this, she was a good healer. Heck the kid had done her best with every critical case till she'd passed out from the effort and had to be laid down too.

Looking at the next set of incoming wounded Tyra prayed to every one of her Gods for strength. Not that they often listened to her cries.

“Glitch!” Making your way over you waived to the young woman. She was no longer that student you had taught, years in the field giving her a commanding edge. Then again she had always been more an adult than youngling, “Tyra!”

“Boss!”

The women embraced, relief marking both their faces. You were the first to pull back giving her a tired smile, “Report?”

“Same shit, different day. Thank the All Father I won't sing your tale tonight. Scared the hell out of us,” She tried to get you to sit but you waived the effort off. Figures that if the Boss is awake she's back to work. “We barely have transport up and going and even that's sketchy, never seen Deek so steamed. No tower, barely reliable comms, control of the ground is non existent. Top that off no surgery.”

“So I was told. Do we still have supplies?” At Glitch's nod you glanced around. There were two grounded troop transport ships that were heavily damaged near by. While those birds would never fly again they could still serve, “Do those still have power?”

“Yeah, why?”

You'd made do with far less before and these men needed a surgeon. “Get that equipment into the ships, we have work to do.”

Obi Wan had seen Anakin and the Senator to the transport off planet and then rejoined Master Koon at the forward operations. Masters Yoda and Windu were somewhere on the battlefield, but after the droids had barraged the operations center, communications broke down. Light turned to dusk before order was restored. Always in the back of his mind you were there, the image of your unconscious form on the bed as he had left. Were you awake now, had you been sent to a ship already?

“Sir, we've received multiple transmissions of men trapped in the catacombs below the foundry. What are your orders?”

Obi Wan looked to the Clone commander, CC-2224 as he had Identified himself, grim expression falling across his features. Those men would require special extrication, especially if there was structural damage. It would cost time and men that their dwindling forces may not be able to afford. On the other hand it would cost his soul not to at least try. These men had risked life and limb to save him and the other Jedi, honor dictated that he must endeavor to return their brothers to them. Glancing at the Commander's helmet Obi Wan gave a nod, “Gather a team and what equipment you can Commander, I will accompany you.”

“Sir, yes Sir.”

The man beneath the helmet closed his eyes in relief. His trainers had prepared Cody for many scenarios. Retrieval and rescue, negotiations, incursion drops, but never how to bury so many his brothers. Never how to deal with the guilt of sending them to their assured death. What they had taught them was to trust in their chain of command, so that is what Cody would do.

“Vessia raise that retractor... Yeah there! Ok, suction,” After a while the bodies began to blur together. Collapsed lungs, skull fractures, missing limbs... you didn't feel like a doctor, you felt like a butcher. “Alright there's the bleed. Clamp off, sew, then seal him up until we can get a transport.”

Most of what you were performing was considered stabilization procedures until the troopers could be seen on the hospital ship in orbit. As the only fully trained Doctor you had to hop from table to table when there was a question of need. It was a motley crew, former students some of whom you hadn't seen in years. Vessia who was in her intern year after Medical School was beside you, hands once uncertain now efficient and skilled. The Senators daughter had changed much, finding her purpose in healing. Maru, who was currently running the blood donation chair, had left the RRC active branch preferring to work on the admin side of things. Yet here he was alongside you all. You could feel his old terrors coming to the surface again, but he remained stalwartly working. The strongest of bonds were ever forged in the fire of combat, at least that's what Master Melri had often said.

Then there was the Padawan who had been left in your charge. Barris Offee didn't have the same training you'd had at that age, but she was a hard little worker and adapted quickly. She stood at the table to your back while Vessia handled procedures at the other. The normally peaceful Mirialan was now face to face with a healers worst nightmare and you felt horribly for her. Having to remind Barris again and again that she must refrain from any more Force healing and to focus on clinical work set a knot in your gut. It was a simple equation though, she could use her abilities to heal a few while injuring herself or help the many that would surely follow the first. The girl's frustration was ever palpable, but in the end had deferred to your command.

“Master L/n, I require your assistance.” Barris had never felt so helpless in her life. It was as if all the light of the Force had gone out, leaving only the cold of death that now surrounded this place. This man on her table was barely breathing, but surely... “What about him.”

Glancing down at the trooper you could see he was beyond even your ability to save. Multiple blaster shots including the one that had penetrated his helmet, it was a ghastly sight. And yet he struggled still for breath, his brothers looking at the two Jedi with hope in their eyes. You wished there was something you could do for this young trooper to save his life, but all you could offer was a peaceful passing. “I'm sorry Barris...”

“NO! You gotta try damn it! He's still alive!”

One of the mud stained commandos screamed, ripping off his helmet as others tried to console him. The crying man cursed, yelling how they couldn't let his brother die. Not his last batch mate. Storming right up, he barked in your face demanding you save his brother. It was in that moment that you saw Barris cry, silent sorrow rolling down her cheeks. Damn this day, Damn Dooku, but above all damn yourself for failing them all.

“I cannot save him. I would if it were possible, but I cant. I am so sorry.”

“Can't or won't!?” He screamed again, but in truth there was a part of Fi that knew. “Why... Why Why WHY!!!”

“I'm sorry... more than you know.” Turning to the young Padawan you pulled her close, whispering. “Barris. I must ask a difficult task of you.”

The girl wiped her eyes quickly, “Yes?”

Looking from her to the bed and then the other downed craft across the narrow dirt you sighed. As with so many things today it was the only comfort you could offer these poor men. “Take the stretcher and place this trooper in the curtained part of the recovery. Let them say good bye.”

Barris stood stock still, as though doused in ice. “What are you saying?”

“He won't last much longer Healer Offee. All we can do is ease one brother's pain and grant the other dignity in their death.” You could see the light slowly dwindling out of her eyes and hated yourself even more. Giving her a nod you turned to the newest patient on your table and started to glove up again. “Give them however long they need.”

Barris wanted nothing more than to run from this place, but that was not the Jedi way. They were keepers of the peace, guardians of the light even when they could not feel it's presence. Wiping away her tears she took hold of the litter and began to guide it. The Commando's brother took the other side, face scrunched in anger. Bringing a chair and a blanket, Barris covered the injured man as the other sat watch. “What's his name?”

“RC-...”

Barris shook her head, “No, I mean what do you call him?”

Fi hadn't expected the Jedi to ask that, it was a very personal and private thing. Most clones' names were known only to their batch mates or their training sergeant maybe. Looking into the young woman's dark eyes though he felt comforted that someone else would do such a kindness as to call them by their chosen name. To treat him and the others as men. “We called him Sen.”

“Hello Sen, I thought you might be cool. My name is Barris,” smoothing the blanket over the man she could already feel his breathing becoming staggered. Biting her lip she began to murmur, “Thank you Sen for saving us, for saving me.”

Fi watched the young woman as she tucked his brother in like a cadet, gently and with great care. She seemed as lost as any of them, hell nobody should be in this place. Taking his brother's hand, Fi gave it a squeeze, “It's what we were made for ma'am.”

“Barris.” She replied quietly.

Swallowing hard, he looked into her sad eyes. “Fi.”

Sunlight rose on the second day, not that Obi Wan could tell really. Deep in the dark of the catacombs he and the troopers searched. Hall by hall, digging into the places where transmissions had dissipated to faint cries and banging. They had come across some of the lost Jedi from the missing assault team as well as tracking down the missing clones. He recalled how you would feel agitated on many a mission needing the balm of action. It was the waiting that tortured him and the other men the worst now. Waiting for an attack, waiting to find even one being alive, waiting for this all to end.

“Sir! Up ahead,” Cody called as he desperately ripped into the rock. The slight glow from a HUD light breaking the darkness of the rockfall. “Hold on trooper, we're here!”

“Commander be careful,” Obi Wan spoke too late watching as more unstable rock started to avalanche onto the man. Racing over with the others everyone started to frantically dig both men out.

“Damn Stupid osik'ri... get himself killed!” Alpha 22, or Deuce, wanted to wring the commanders neck. But as they uncovered the officer, he thought better of it. Lifting the Commander's helmet, Deuce found Cody was struggling to breathe. The rock fall damaged the air intake, the bucket all but dead weight now. “Oiya! Take it easy Vod'ika... There ya go.”

“The...(cough) commando...”

Deuces nodded and continued digging as the medics took the injured Commander to the side. The Jedi, Kenobi, joined in. Digging until they uncovered the still lit helmet, slowly extracting the rest of the man. Shaking his head sadly Deuces thought the worst, until the Jedi gave a rough rub on a pressure point and the Commando drew a gasping breath. “Medic! Medic Up! Hey you keep karking breathing, don't you fucking die!”

“Easy he may have a head injury,” Obi Wan helped to ease the injured commando onto the stretcher. “Commander go with them to the aid...”

“But Sir, we need to...”

“CC-2224 you deaf or being insubordinate? Get your shebs to the evac, MOVE!” Deuces barked, “and get a new bucket while you're at it.”

Cody sheepishly tucked the damaged one under his arm, pausing as Kenobi tapped his shoulder, “Sir?”

“If you should see Master L/n at the aid station, please let her know where we are.” Obi Wan said it before he could decide against it. He wasn't even sure if you were still on the ground, but if you were he knew how worried you must be. “Thank you Commander.”

“Yes Sir.” Cody's curiosity was peaked, but gave a nod not wanting to inquire further. The Jedi had a funny look as he had spoken, but who was Cody to question it. He was a soldier, what did he understand past that?

“All father help us... hey get those new suture packs and IV fluids over here!” Tyra watched as the latest batch of wounded were off loaded. She hated that there was so little to be done, only start fluids and get them to the hospital ship for a dunk in a tank. Shaking her head Tyra lamented also seeing the young Jedi healer in a different form of pain as she tried to comfort the injured. Worst of all she hated seeing you half propped on a stool as you continued to do surgery along with her and Vessia, soldiering on because you refused to leave them in this mess alone when you should be up on that ship like the rest of the wounded.

This was madness at it's finest and Tyra could all too easily now empathize with her former mentor who had been so harsh in their lessons. Muttering to herself she readied to stitch up another incoming trooper, “Forgive me Bern, you were right... Hey Trooper what's your name?”

“Ma'am, CC-2224.” Cody saw the displeased look on the short female's face and offered over his name. “Is there a Jedi called L/n here, I have a message for them.”

“Yeah,” You hollered over the din, carefully pealing off the many layers of extra thick armor from the patient on your table. Turning to the medics you became brusk, “You need to strip them before they get here, I want trauma naked and injuries exposed! Pass it along.”

“I have a message,” Cody tried to stand but the pink haired medic who was cleaning the wound on his head shoved him back down.

“Tell her from here. Hold still or this will scar worse than it's already gonna,” Glitch smirked at her patient, giving him a wink. “Don't worry handsome, the ones who matter won't mind a bit.”

“Don't tease the poor man Glitch. What's the message?”

Cody had to peer at the Jedi from the corner of his vision, “Master Kenobi wanted you to know he was in the catacombs with our platoon. He wanted you to know...”

Your heart swelled and a brief smile crossed your face. You hadn't know for hours where Obi Wan had gotten too, if he was alright. It was a relief, one weight lifted from your shoulders. Closing your eyes in silent thanks you nodded to the man on Glitch's table. “Thank you Commander, I appreciate the update.”

Cody was a little perplexed at your reaction, until he heard the medic stitching his temple chuckle. Raising an eyebrow, the young woman she smiled at him.

“You just made her day, you know that.” Tyra smirked, lowering her voice so only the man could hear. “Boss won't always say much, but it's a great kindness you've done. And for that...”

The small woman bent down as she finished the last stitch, pressing her lips gently on his forehead. Cody froze as she kissed him, it was sweet and stars knew he hadn't imagined his first kiss to be like this.

“...you deserve a reward. Now you best go get another bucket cause this one is toast.” Glitch grinned at the blushing soldier on her gurney. As he began to walk towards supply she yelled to him, “Hey 2224?”

Cody turned back at the edge of the craft, “Ma'am?”

Tyra sauntered over to grip the top of his chest plate. The man was weary, looking perhaps a bit lost amongst the din. With a chuckle she pulled him down and gave him a real kiss. Nothing fancy, just a touch of sweetness on a bitter day. “You be safe out there soldier. And don't go messing up that sewing, huh.”

“Yes ma'am.” He smirked at the little thing as she swayed her hips back to the surgery. He wasn't sure if it was the kiss or the rush of being alive, but in that moment Cody felt he could take on the whole damn planet. Strutting towards supply the Commander felt ten feet tall.

“Glitch stop teasing the men and get back to work,” You couldn't help a slight smirk. Unprofessional as it was, you were pleased by the smile the man had as he left. In the present moment though the patient on your table had severe crush injuries and would need to be evacuated with the next load of wounded. Starting two intravenous lines you took in his injuries, both legs would need surgery and extensive rehabilitation. He was alive though and that was a miracle in and of itself. “Hey, what's your name?”

“A'den,” He tried to keep his eyes open.

You smiled down at him, “Well A'den we're going to get you well again. For now though I'm going to give you something for the pain, is that alright with you?”

He had never been asked before, never given the option. It confused him that this medic wasn't simply doing what was necessary, instead giving him the choice. “Ma'am?”

“It's ok if you don't want too,” You could tell he was uncomfortable in more ways than one, so you tried a different approach. “How about a little something to take the edge off, it won't make you disoriented like a sedative.”

“Whatever you think's best ma'am.”

“Good, lean back. Now I'm gonna have you moved to the staging area and soon you'll be on the ship.” You could see the moment the medication started to work, the man's body relaxing ever so slightly. He was so covered in dust that you had to wipe it away to get a better look. Even careful as you were he was skittish, like a newborn colt. Finally satisfied with your exam and that he would remain stable, you had A'den transferred to staging. Over and over it was like that through the night.

At dawn you saw the Council and other remaining Jedi start to trickle back into the staging area. They, like the troopers, asking if you had seen someone. An apprentice, a master, a batch mate; it made no difference Jedi or clone, all were searching. The lists were posted by the recovery craft; Alive, wounded, missing and dead. You could tell the answer by the sounds or lack there of after people looked. But every so often you would hear something that eased the pain just a little, you heard the happy cries of a reunion. It was few and far between but it was something to hold to.

You were on one of the two final transports out, lifting off as the last troop transport did. It was like a bad case of deja vu, Deek in the cockpit with you, Barris, and Glitch in the back. You felt old, especially looking at the two younger responders.

“Hey kid, how you holding up?”

Barris looked to the girl called Glitch, dazed and uncertain. “I'm sorry?”

“She want's to know if you're doing alright,” You pipped in from across the cabin, “Are you?”

“A Jedi...”

“Barris,��� reaching across to take her hand the girl paused. How long ago had it been that you sat on that side of the jump seat? Had you ever been that wide eyed or young? It seemed now that you had always been this tired and old. But you knew that once, long ago you had been just as this young one here needing guidance. “It's ok to say it. I wish I had the power to save everyone, but I can't... we never can. You gave it your best and that's all anyone can ask or do. It's alright to mourn the losses, not just celebrate the victories.”

Glitch pursed her lips before speaking, “You showed them kindness and compassion whether you could save them or not. Ain't a finer thing you can do than that. It's ok to be human little space wizard, hell makes you one of us.”

“Master L/n?” Barris' voice cracked as the last of her reserve evaporated. She was like a water pitcher that had run dry, nothing left to give and hollow feeling. “How... how do you let it go? The men we lost, the Jedi?”

“In some ways I don't. I remember what the experience taught me and train harder, so that their sacrifice meant something. I wish I could say that this is the last time, that you won't lose someone again, but I can't.” Shadows darkened your face as the ship made it's approach to the docking bay. Giving Barris a kind look, you graveled out the last words. “It's in learning to walk with those ghosts that defines how we move forward.”

Mace waited as the last of the ships arrived from the surface, sentinel till all returned. The battle had been arduous, the aftermath unbearable. So many good Jedi lost, the galaxy in turmoil, and all because of Dooku. He shouldn't have let his bias paint his view of the man because he had once been a colleague. Now the Separatists had a powerful ally and the future of the Republic rested on the shoulders of the Order. Mace knew, felt the shifting in the lines of fate that this was only the beginning of the journey. That the path ahead would be just as painful, bloody, and long.

“Master Windu, have you seen Barris?” Luminara came to stand beside the Council head.

Turning slightly he nodded greetings to his fellow Jedi, “I believe she is with Y/n.”

“Safe hands then.” Luminara sighed in relief, what she wouldn't give to reverse time and ordered her apprentice to stay on Couriscant. What was done was done though, now all of them would have to deal with this terrifying new world. “I suppose we are the lucky ones.”

Watching as the craft door opened he considered the statement. Were they the lucky ones or were the ones who had passed and spared what was to come more fortunate? Mace observed as you escorted the young Padawan. He didn't miss as Master Undulii's breath caught at the sight of her apprentice, wan and weary. At least this Master still had her apprentice, not many today could claim that. “Luck has nothing to do with it. We trained them well.”

Barris walked slowly towards her Master, you and Glitch on either side. You knew all too well that hollow look in her dark eyes. The girl was past done and needed a long rest, more so she needed to stay somewhere the hell away from any action. It had been a baptism of fire and in many ways it reminded you of what had happened to Maru. But unlike the Bothan there was nowhere for this Padawan to hide from the conflict, no transfer to admin. Master Undulii, normally so serene in appearance, now stood with slumped shoulders and only the veneer of calm. Glancing at the more senior Master you knew she understood that this mission had broken the girl.

“Barris,” She paused feeling a ripple in the girls signature, tear streaks marring her face. Embracing her Luminara held tight, like when she had been a frightened youngling. “There now, you are safe.”

“Get some rest, you did very well today. Couldn't have run that aid station without you Barris.” You handed an injector to Master Undulii, a sedative. She took it with a grim nod of thanks. Glitch gave an affectionate pat on your Master's shoulder and left to clean up at the slop sink. Master Windu looked as tired as you felt. “Master...”

Mace pulled you into a hug, “I'm so thankful that you've returned safely.”

The dam within you began to crack, the air rushing from your lungs with a great sigh. Regret, sorrow, guilt all swirling and engulfing you whole. You were unable to draw breath for what felt an eternity, tremors in you hands that indicated a larger storm brewing. Master Windu pulled back giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, ever patient and guiding. Over and over all you could say was, “I'm sorry.”

“This was not your fault Y/n. You and Obi Wan did well. Your Apprentice did his duty and all of you are alive.” He was proud of you all. The three of you had conquered near insurmountable odds to simply survive this slaughterhouse. Mace could only hope that same fortune would continue to carry you through this conflict to come. Yet under the surface he sensed damage, the fissures within your psyche emanating pain. “I do think you could do with some rest though.”

“Pffft.... Right.” Taking a few steadying breaths you stuffed your feelings away for later as you had often done. It did not serve to have a breakdown in front of the head of the council, even if they had been your Master. Wiping away any stray moisture you felt as the fatigue hit, scrubbing your hands across your face. “Kark I could use some Kaf.”

“I believe that the mess hall can assist you,” Mace chuckled and shaking his head, “And there is someone on C deck who would be glad to know you're back.”

Even exhausted you knew better than to let your guard down, “Is Anakin out of recovery already? He should still be...”

Half bemused Mace muttered, “I'm certain that the boy would appreciate seeing you as well.”

Master Windu gave yet another piercing look, you continued to act unaffected. Best not to contemplate the possibilities on days like this. “Has Anakin really been giving you that big a headache?”

“We both know I'm not referring to Skywalker.” While Mace had to admire your extreme level of discretion, he had long known of your relationship with Kenobi. Part of him had made peace with your involvement given the dedication both Jedi continued to show the order; never succumbing to the temptation of possession. You two had been thick as thieves since apprenticeship, even for as many times as he had attempted to separate you with missions and training. After so long Mace had simply come to trust that you would do the right thing. He did however tire over feigning ignorance. “Please make sure that he's actually resting, as should you.”

Schooling your face and giving a practiced calm expression, you bowed. “May the Force be with you Master.”

Dooku had been troubled throughout the flight to Coruscant. He was nearly bested by the Jedi and their unexpected rescue by the clones, but then again he had managed to escape and accomplish his mission. He had not counted on the new army as a factor in his plans this early, it would have been an easier war to manage if the Council had been obliterated. None the less many key pieces had still fallen nicely into place and it would take the Order time to recover their losses

As he saw the glimmer of the city planet his mind fell back to your words. “Qui Gon died defending the galaxy from the evil that you embraced! Had he lived he would stand against you now!”

He was not an evil man. Dooku did as he saw necessary to bring order, but he was not cruel. Yes it was necessary to cull the opposing forces to make a victory swift, but it was not a choice he made lightly. The Jedi's compassion is what limited their vision, far too entrenched in their ways to effect real change. Sometimes one must break the chins that bound one to the old and outdated system, the one which found the Jedi central too. Landing in the abandoned works the Count stood and prepared to disembark.

Sidious watched as his latest apprentice disembarked the ramp of his craft. While not entirely pleased with the fallen Jedi's efforts, he proved a useful tool. With practiced ease Sidious gestured warmly to the elder man, “Welcome home Lord Tyranus.”

“The Force is with us Master,” The Count bowed in greeting joining Sidious as they walked into the complex. “I bear good news, the war has begun.”

“Well done, your skills are no match for the Jedi.” Palpatine chuckled in this throat, “And what of the young upstarts, have they been adequately dealt with?”

“They survived the encounter,” Dooku grimaced as your words rang in his head again, “Next time I shall...”

Palpatine waived off the Count's words, “Spare me. Soon enough they will be eliminated and together we shall control the galaxy. For the people, for the future.”

And what future shall that be, forged in the crucible of war, the Count wondered? Dooku knew well to keep his doubts shielded though, the Sith was a cunning being and not to be trusted. But it was better to reign in Hell than to serve in heaven. “For a brighter tomorrow shall our labors travail.”

Anakin woke in a darkened room, warm and quiet. It took more than a few moments for the fog to clear his brain. Raising his right arm he felt the cold shock of metal and not his fingers. Fingers that flexed and moved but...

“Ani? Are you awake?”

Turning towards the soft voice Anakin couldn't speak for a moment, simply staring. There were no words yet to express both his joy and sorrow. Joy at seeing Padme waiting beside him, her sweet face curved by a genuine smile because he lived. And yet how uncomfortable she must be cramped in this small sparse space. Anakin never wanted to see her deprived of comfort, not for him.

“Are you in pain? I can get the nurse,” Padme watched as Anakin shook his head, still very distracted by the new metal limb. She took his left hand in her own, “It's just temporary till you get a better fitting, they said you were very lucky. Y/n and Obi Wan came to check on you, they were both so worried.”

“Not worried enough to stay.”

“That's not fair Anakin.” Padme gave him a hurt look, “They were both worried sick. The doctor even said Y/n was badgering him from the aid station every hour for an update. Obi Wan stayed here until Master Yoda made him go rest.”

Anakin flushed in embarrassment at rightly being chastised. “I should know my Masters better by now, it was stupid of me to doubt them.”

“You've been through so much,” taking a cool cloth, Padme dabbed it across his brow. Putting the cloth aside she laced her fingers with his again. “How do you feel.”

“Like I had my arm cut off.” Anakin snarked. Then he saw how her face fell and felt all the dumber for it. He felt foolish for a great many things. Shaking his head on a silent curse, Anakin's temper flared, “I couldn't stop Dooku...”

“No one could, it's not your fault.”

“I'm sorry Padme, I should have protected you better.” The image of her laying limp in the sand flashing through his mind again. Regret lacing his voice, Anakin reached up to cup Padme's bruised cheek. Even past his faults as a Jedi, would she want him now that he was this defeated broken thing. A fool of a man who couldn't even protect his woman properly. Would she still love him with all his faults? “I would have liked to have held you with both hands...”

Padme's voice cracked as she took the cool metal prosthetic and pressed it to her other cheek, “You still can.”

“You don't have to stay,” He whispered, not meeting her eyes. People made rash statements all the time under stress, he knew that. Anakin was trying to give Padme a gracious way out of this, trying to do the right thing even if it killed him. Because in the end he loved her and what could he offer her beyond that? “I'm sure that you probably have more important things...”

“How dare you say that,” Padme's face scrunched, hurt to her bones that he had even said it. Her Ani ought to know her better, “I'm not leaving you Anakin and there is nothing more important to me right now than you. So never say that to me again.”

“Forgive me?” A small smile curled one side of his mouth. His heart surged and Anakin began to gently pull Padme into the bed. He needed to feel her safe in his arms, needed to show her the affection that she so deserved. His brave angel deserved every star in the galaxy.

“The bed's too small.” Padme grumbled but acquiesced, exhaustion causing her to ignore better judgment. Laying in Anakins arms, being held so gently, she felt safer than she had in weeks. She wanted to stay a little upset with him, but it was so very hard when she could feel his care in every touch. Still her voice carried a hint of exasperation, “Honestly Anakin sometimes I wonder what you think of me.”

“That you're the most beautiful woman in the Galaxy. That you've stolen my heart,” He didn't dare press further just yet, stars but he wanted to as he gazed longingly at her lips. Anakin wanted to hold Padme close for the rest of time, to kiss her till there was no question how much he loved her. He would worship the ground that she walked on no matter where that ground was. As he floated the blankets up to cover them, Anakin caressed Padme's face. Tracing from her eyebrow, the apple of her cheek. “There now, don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Me? You're the one who,” Padme paused mid sentence face falling as she began to cry. She had almost gotten the two of them killed rushing in, it had been reckless. The litany of admonishments at her actions rolling through her mind, she was a Senator and should know better! Agony and frustration shook her whole body, but Anakin only held tighter.

“Shh, it's ok. You're safe angel.” Anakin could feel her turmoil, wishing he could make her forget the past few days and their terrors. And yet if not for the past few days he would not be holding her now. No he could not erase it, but he would ease it. Gazing at her he put the full weight of his heart into the words, “I love you Padme, so much.”

“Anakin,” She hiccuped between sobs, words getting caught. She wanted to tell him she loved him too, that she regretted her earlier lie. Gazing into his eyes Padme saw the light of his understanding. He knew without her saying a word. Still her tears would not cease; for him, for his mother, for the dead, for the galaxy. “I'm sorry... I'm so frightened Ani.”

“Don't be afraid.” Restraint finally breaking, Anakin kissed her. First her lips then every single tear from her face, laying one last soft press to Padme's forehead. If his angel needed him to be strong for the both of them, then that is what he would do. Raising his hand instinctively to brush at her cheek he paused a hairs breath away remembering the metal. Instead he lowered it to move up and down her back carefully, still too afraid that he would do harm.

Tucking Padme's head below his chin Anakin began humming a tune, one that he heard often at Maffa's bar. Carefully soothing his new hand on her back as his flesh one cradled her head, a few of the lyrics falling loose. As her breathing settled and she relaxed in his hold Anakin murmured, “I'll always protect you, love you... Will you marry me?”

Padme had been drifting to sleep in the safe harbor of his embrace, lulled into a sense of safety. And maybe she would have overthought the question had she not been so exhausted, but not now. Emotions too raw, everything happening so fast, and she wanted what he offered so easily. He hadn't changed since the day she had met him ten years ago, still a kind and giving heart. “Yes, I'll marry you Anakin.”

“Then sleep angel,” Anakin practically beamed with joy, “You've made me so happy Padme.”

He swore she would not cry again, whatever he had to do she would always smile. He would be better, faster, the best Jedi in the Order. And after he brought peace to the galaxy and the war was over he would leave to be with her. It was a simple plan, but it was a start. He promised himself and her that they'd make it to their tomorrow, because love wasn't something to fear.

At least that's what he'd been told.

“Another?”

“Keep it coming,” You muttered, passing the cup back to Glitch to pour you another beer. Bumming a puff on Deek's cigar you slowly let the smoke waft out around you. Numbing your mind was not a solution to the problem, but you didn't want to deal with it at present either.

Deek threw an arm around your shoulders, “That shit'll give you cancer kid.”

“and yet you survive old man.”

He gave your head a hard noogie. “Smartass!”

You had gone to check in on Anakin and found Padme watching over him. Truth be told the affectionate look on the young woman's face was more than enough to put you at ease. There was a happiness when the two were together, one that you prayed never left. And so you had slogged down to the C deck in search of your own happiness.

Obi Wan had been fast asleep, looking the rougher for wear. You had indulged, just a moment, sitting on the bed and stroking his hair. The soft auburn strands feathering against your skin was soothing and a smile had risen as your Obi had turned gently into the touch. Stars knew he had earned a rest and that you should get some yourself. Instead you had pressed a soft kiss to his head and tucked an extra blanket around him before heading to the mess hall, avoiding the nightmares that you knew were waiting.

Should have figured that the RIC's would sneak a keg on board, wouldn't be the first or last. So you sat at the table playing Sabac and decompressed as best you could. There were other Jedi in the cantina and you had managed to wave a few over to join the group, stars knew they needed a reprieve as much as the others here. They would drift by for a time, visit, and then leave to meditate. Master Undulii had also drifted by, mostly to express her thanks to you and Glitch. She did not wish to stay initially, but Glitch had handed the Jedi a Kaf and patted the seat between the two of you. The Mirilan had taken the unconventional beings in stride.

“These are all students of yours?”

Giving a nod you sipped at your beer, it was piss water cheap but the best you'd ever had. “Yes, most of this bunch went through the academy class with Anakin.”

“I see and these classes are open to anyone?” Luminara hadn't encouraged her apprentice to further her medical training past what was necessary in the Halls of Healing. Now she considered just how under prepared that had left the girl, how helpless she may have felt. Barris would not soon recover from this experience that was certain and perhaps time away in an academic setting would do her well.

You could see the wheels turning, needing just a little nudge, “I'd be happy to have you sit in on a class sometime.”

“Boss, why do I have a feeling that this lovely lady could probably teach the class?” Glitch snarked while simultaneously keeping an eye on the pack of troopers at the end of the room. She recognized 2224, no it was Cody he said, and couldn't help grinning when he'd blush after realizing that he got caught looking her way. But she also knew that involvement would be a bad idea so she was relegated to teasing him. Hearing your grumblings Glitch poked at you again, earning a smile from the other Jedi, “Probably run circles around you in the aid station too.”

“Ha ha Yalvaberg, though you're not wrong.” Slapping down your cards you folded your hand, glancing in your peripherals at Master Undulii. “Open offer for anyone at the Temple, Barris included.”

“Speaking of little bitty, where'd she get too?” Glitch took two more cards, watching the group of troopers head out of the hall. Just as well she thought.

Luminara was perplexed, “Little bitty?”

“Barris,” Glitch clarified, “Good things in small packages.”

Luminara quirked a brow until you explained that it was high praise indeed to have earned a nickname. Setting down her mug she smiled at the young people here. There was a closeness to this group, a bond made of grit and pain that gave them a strength. It touched her that Barris was now counted among them, “She is resting, I think I will go check on her though. You have my thanks again and I look forward to seeing you in the classroom.”

You watched as the more senior Master rose, graceful as ever, and floated from the room like a cloud on the wind. Finishing your own beverage you bid the others goodnight and left too, not before an extended hug from Deek though. There was much said in that hug, things that didn't need words but were bone deep and true. That you were both glad to be alive, that you were both relieved that the mission was done. That you both prayed it was the last close call.

Even as hard as you tried to quiet your mind, the racing thoughts wouldn't cease. The guilt and pain, all like a great mountain on you. Wandering the halls of the ship you found your way to the recovery wing. Most of the troopers you had worked on made it through secondary surgery, including A'den who gave you a waive leading you to stop and speak with him for a bit. It was a reward that little squeeze of his big hand, the smile he gave. None of that was why you did it, but kark it felt nice. There was an officer who was also checking on the men, his commanding presence standing out from the others. There was no conversation between you, simply a nod of greeting and both going about your way.

Further down the line were the injured Jedi. And while they were indeed alive, many were far from well. Several apprentices trembled in their beds or looked on blankly. The few Masters whom were present to shepard them weren't in much better shape. The Masters whose eyes reflected the gutting of loss everyone here felt. They would all require a great deal of psychological help after an event like this, needed experts in that field and not simply the healers at the Temple. It would be a discussion with the Council, but for another day. Turning to leave you came face to chest with an old acquaintance. “I'm so sorry, I didn't see...”

“L/n,” The voice growled low.

Your stomach dropped. There was Master Adeva, Togorian glare ever fixed. This was neither the time nor the place for a disagreement, “I was just leaving, good evening Master Adeva.”

Carefully trying move around him, you were far too tired to reign in your emotions, only making it a few steps when he began to growl.

“Is it all worth it?” Adeva grumbled the thought out loud. The older being saw how your posture slumped at his words, not thinking how you had interpreted the statement.

Deuce was speaking with a couple of recently promoted sergeants when he heard the trouble. His face turned stony watching the two Jedi. Who the hells did this beast think he was, speaking to the little medic like that? Your response to the feline though, it ripped him like a blaster bolt.

“No,” tears streamed as the hopeless answer left your lips. Glancing over your shoulder to him you whispered. “I should have died and saved you the effort.”

One of the injured troopers came alongside Deuce looking just as pissed, but the Alpha waited to see what the Togorian would do. Both Clones were unarmed, but stood ready to protect. This one had fought for his brothers lives, for that alone she had his respect. He whispered to the other clone, “Find the Jedi Kenobi, now!”

“You would say that, after all the trouble to save you?” Adeva turned his head studying the small woman. You did not seem yourself. Not sharp tongued or quick witted, almost like it pained you to even move.

“Yeah, well I didn't deserve it anyway. Said it yourself I'm weak, an embarrassment to my Master, an abomination. That I should have died long ago...” you rambled out. How you ached for rest, your ribs hollow with nothing left to give or fight with. A sardonic little hum escaped you, “Sorry to disappoint you and survive again when so many more deserving beings should have.”

The Togorian was stunned, though he should not be surprised. After all he had spoken the vile, hateful words that you now repeated, had encouraged his Padawan to do the same. His ears flattened as his voice filled with shame, “L/n...”

“I'll make it easy, save you the trouble for next time...” It was a choice everyday, to live or to give it up. Most days you could be strong, others you needed to bolster your strength just to slog through. Not today though, today you just wanted the bliss of silent oblivion. If your brain were in a more sound state it would recognize that this was not right, but all you could feel was pain and death and failure. Holding up your saber you pressed it into his paw like hand with the end at your chest. Voice quivering you bore your gaze into his, “Go ahead.”

“What?” Tightening his grip on the hilt he saw you eyes close relief. It was such an antitheses to whom he had now come to understand you to be. It was wrong, this whole situation was wrong and Adeva found himself regretting having contributed to your longing for death. Slowly, carefully he placed your saber on the medical cart nearest. Your eyes were angry with him even as tears began to fall. “No, I will not do that.”

“It's like a damned cosmic joke...” Laughing in pain as your head fell in resignation. “I am a wraith that even death has turned it's back on.”

“Master L/n... you misunderstand me.” Dipping his head, Adeva tried to meet your eyes. He no longer wished to fight with you. No, that was the past and it was time to act as a Jedi should. “We caused you such pain for so long. We were wrong. I was wrong... about everything.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“You saved my Padawan, Hashi wouldn't have made it out of the arena had you not intervened.”

“I -” your words were cut short by a growl.

“You and Kenobi were captured, tortured, and still confronted Dooku.” Adeva saw you clench and fiddle with your hands. “And all I can reason is that you must think this mission, this galaxy, worthy to suffer so.”

“Someone has to protect it.” Your voice was small, barely a scratching of words. “I did my duty.”

“No, you did more.” It was in that moment that Adeva knew just how much pain his words had caused over the years, how much you had endured. How wrong and twisted he had been and for what? Pride and tradition meant little if one could not act honorably towards their fellow beings. Your eyes were dark as they gazed back at him, “I was so very wrong about you and though I can never deserve it... please forgive me.”

It was an odd feeling, whiplashed from one extreme to the other. A being who had tormented you so long, whom you in many ways considered an adversary, asking pardon for the wrong he had done. You wanted to stay angry, to yell and scream, to let every boiling emotion set loose; but to what end really? You might be short tempered, perhaps brash and overly passionate, but you were not cruel. To release such fury upon even this being... no you would never cause pain willingly.

There were also all the hopeless gazes looking to you from the beds, wondering if this was all there was to their future? How could the Jedi continue if they only fought among themselves, unable to forgive their brothers and sisters. Wondering eyes asking if this was how their order would fall from the light into the abyss of shadow. No, even if darkness filled the stars above, you refused to be the one to snuff out their hope for a better tomorrow. This would not be the day that you crumbled, this would not be the day you let the light perish from this place. As hard as it was, you chose in that moment to live and fight one day more.

“I forgive you.”

“This way Sir.”

“Oh wee one...” Obi Wan had been pulled from his bed by one of the troopers. All he had been told was that you were in trouble and it was all he needed to hear. The fact that he could only mildly feel your presence in the Force raised alarm bells.

“There Sir, look.”

Glancing ahead you rounded the corner with an escort of your own. Alpha 22 was flanking your side, a concerned look on his face. Obi Wan watched as you simply seemed to exist, as though a spirit trapped in the land of the living. There was no sign of your usual spark of liveliness and it sent a shiver down his back. The imposing trooper at your side simply guided you forward, firmly but with care. As the two men glanced at each other there was a silent understanding.

“Keep a close eye on this one, she's... in need of rest.” Deuce glanced down at the woman, deeply troubled by what he'd seen. He'd seen some of his Vod'e over the years who had cracked before graduation or from the treatment of their trainers. He well recognized that look in your eyes. Tilting his head Deuce softened his tone again, “You take care now Baar'ur'ika, want to see you at formation when we land.”

“I'll take her from here,” Obi Wan whispered as his arm came around your shoulders. It was a long walk back, every step of the journey made like you were shuffling through duracrete. He felt the raging torrent rippling from your signature even as your face remained placidly flat. Studying you carefully he knew there was something truly wrong. You hadn't changed, robes in need of incineration rather than cleaning. Worse yet you were silent, not uttering a word to him only holding his hand tightly like a lifeline. As he closed and locked the door Obi Wan gently cupped your face, “Wee one?”

Blinking at him you gazed wide eyed, but unseeing. Your mind was stuck on what had happened in the med bay, the terrible things you said. How could you have let that blackness out, how could you expose the others to your dark mind? When Obi Wan tried to grasp your arms you backed away shrinking into yourself, not wanting to hurt him too. You'd only contaminate him, you had to keep him safe. The thoughts raged again, the horrible images that Dooku had put in your mind rising like the tide. Was it torture or a vision, would they all die just like you had seen?

“Love?” Obi Wan watched as you started to shake and cry, hands flying to clutch your head. He fought to grab you then, bringing you with him to the floor as you screamed into his chest. Blood curdling agony escaping with every breath, eyes wild in fear. You fought his hold not seeing him, but instead some spectral horror. It took pushing his own calm upon your signature to placate the worst of it; he kept soothing your hair as he whispered through his own growing dread. “It's alright now, we're safe... we're all safe. Please Y/n come back, don't leave me now... please come back to me.”

You could feel the distant glimmer of his signature, that small flicker of light in the swirling dark, “Obi?”

“I'm here love. Tell me how to help, what did the devil do to you?” Kissing your forehead his face scrunched in concentration. You whole body shook frantically as your face blanched, but he was determined and pressed through the connection, “Y/n let me in.”

“No! You can't... not safe...” You were so frightened of hurting him, fighting with what little you had in you to push back.

“I'm not letting you suffer, not another minute. Now let me in.” Obi Wan lurched bodily as the first images came through, crying out in pain. Pushing further through the dark web, he grasped onto your signature more fully. You had both survived the arena and he wouldn't loose you now. It was as if Dooku had set a hurricane loose in your mind of all the dark fears you hid away even from him. Trying with all his might Obi Wan began to untangle the dark web in which you were caught, forcing more peaceful thoughts over the storm.

Things he knew calmed you, things that brought you joy. Images of forests and small animals you'd seen on missions, of nights at the diner, the memory of that first kiss under the stars. He felt as your body began to slacken in his hold, going limp as your cries softened to sniffles. Whispering against your head as he continued to soothe, “Stay with me in the light, don't leave. I'll do anything, but please stay darling.”

“I'm trying, it's so hard,” Your voice a whimper, “I'm so tired Obi.”

“Then let me take care of you, as you've done for me.” Obi Wan lifted your face from where it was buried in his chest, eyes bloodshot. They were still the most beautiful eyes he knew. “That's it darling, just hold tightly and all will be well.”

“P-promise?”

“I promise, just hold on.” Carefully Obi Wan carried you to the fresher. Hands steady and gentle as he cleaned the dirt away, holding you as your tears rinsed down the drain with the suds. He was loving in every way as he dried and helped you into fresh robes, laying with you on the bed. It hurt him to see you in such pain, what he would give to take it from you. “Any better sweetling?”

Curling into his body the errand tears still rolled down your cheek. “I'm sorry Obi...”

“Shh none of that wee woman, nothing to be sorry for at all.” You huffed and burrowed into his chest further on a little cry. Obi Wan sighed, slowly soothing a hand at your back. You always managed to find your way before, yet you lay so broken here in his arms. Perhaps all that was required was to remind you of whom you were, “You're so strong Y/n, knew from the first minute I saw you.”

Looking up through wet lashes you hummed curiously.

“It's true, really. You looked ready to fight anyone that would say a word about your Master at her service and then...” He hummed wistfully, “You glanced over and smiled at me.”

“I did?” You mumbled, trying to remember if what your Obi Boy said was true, honestly couldn't recall much of that day really. You hadn't even known Obi Wan then, but you do recall him and Qui Gon being present.

“Indeed you did. Only the strongest beings remain so kind even in the midst of such pain.” He'd only just returned to the order himself, feeling out of place and alone. Obi Wan had dutifully gone to the services, accompanying Master Qui Gon as he bid a friend farewell. Still he felt out of place, under scrutiny even in the midst of mourning. Obi Wan had glanced back at you, watching as he felt the ripples of your palpable sorrow and wondered how you stood so gracefully. Then you had glanced over during the funeral as though sensing his eyes lingering and smiled at him. You had seen him, another lost soul and smiled. He fell for you then and you had ever been a part of him. “Still the strongest person I know.”

“I'm not,” Your arms squeezed him tighter, voice choking on the words. “I wish that were true but... Obi I'm so tired of it. All the missions, all the rules, all the fighting and pain. I don't want to do it anymore...” Soft little sobs escaped despite your best efforts.

He knew, had for so very long. The Temple had always been a gilded cage and honestly even he had come to hate it at times. What would it be like to simply walk with you, unafraid of being seen or judged. What would it be like to have a home away from all of this, only you two? As much as it would pain him, Obi Wan was prepared to make that sacrifice, if that was what you needed of him. Then he felt your soft touch on his jaw and glanced down into your watery eyes.

“...But I'll stay for you... and Anakin. You're my family, I go where you go.” Kissing softly at the top of his chest you started to drift into the depths of your exhaustion. “I love you.”

“And I you, so very much.” His voice broke like waves upon the shore, “I promise you Y/n...”

Shaking your head on a hum you brought his face to meet with yours, lips gently embracing. Salty tears marred the tender joining, maybe that was the best the day could offer. Perhaps that was all there would be is stolen moments and little victories, but it was more than most. You weren't ambitious enough to think past now, living in this moment and nowhere else. No promises of anything but the next sweet kiss from your man. That was the only thing you trusted right now.

Obi Wan could feel just how tenuous your hold was, the way your signature flickered. Like embers in a banked fire, as easily rekindled as it was to be dashed out. So he pressed just a little more, deepening the kiss and tracing your features softly. Fingertips ghosting the line of your jaw till he could comb his fingers into your soft hair. There was more grays streaking through, not from age but from all that life had brought. Laugh lines and freckles that came with time, and not a one would he trade. The two of you had raised Anakin, survived so many missions and mishaps, earning every worry line and sign of age together. On a soft grin Obi Wan began to whisper, a secret just between you. “What would you do Y/n... if we did leave?”

“What?”

“If we left the Order, what would you want to do?” He stroked his thumb at your temple, humming his own contemplation. “I think I'd be a teacher.”

Watching the corners of his eyes crinkle made you believe, even for a minute, it might be possible. That after all of this you might be able to have what you wanted. It was a dangerous feeling, this hope, and not something that would happen until this matter with Dooku was settled. Your Master still needed your help, you couldn't abandon him or the rest of the Jedi now. But here, with your Obi Wan it was safe enough to dream. “I think... just a little clinic. Little younglings with colds and sore throats, school check ups...”

Obi Wan pursed his lips in thought, “We could have a massif.”

“You're more of a tooka person,” you mumbled.

Closing his eyes, Obi Wan murmured, “We could have more than pets... if you'd want.”

“Seems you've thought about this,”voice thick at the thought of what he described. You had secretly wondered the same from time to time, “A little boy maybe...”

“A little family somewhere quiet. Nowhere to go or missions to complete,” he chuckled, “We'd be bored to tears.”

“Boredom sounds good.” a bitter grin etched across your face, “But I have a feeling we won't be bored for quite some time my love.”

“No, I suspect you're right about that. I'm sorry we couldn't stop it Y/n...”

Pulling Obi Wan into another kiss you shook your head, “Not tonight... leave it till morning please?”

Obi Wan soothed you through the night terrors and held you tightly when his own came on. Yesterday the war began, but here in their bunk there was peace.

Even if only for tonight.

tags: @obislittleone @the-rain-on-kamino @a-rose-of-amber @aquaamethyst96 @stanny-uwu @nurseytypechick @just-dreaming-marvel @in-a-mellow-tone @acatalystrising @pickleprickle @iambored24601 @purplepandora666 @misscamptl @wannabakewithsomebody @obiknights @moostresskenobi @the-going-merry @ginger-swag-rapunzelre @iabrokengirl @lovelyxlily @annasun13 @foxperifoto @supernaturallover2002 @imherefordeanandbones

[cadriox]

Sorry if i'm bothering you/ you dont have to respond, but how do you come up with cool backgrounds and ideas for your fanart drawings? Your stuff is super creative!! I was just curious because i draw characters in the same poses every day 😭❤

I check my tumblr notif every once in a few days but still missed this, so sorry if I was keeping you wait!

Thank you so much for the compliments! 💖💖💖 this makes me really happy, you’re not a bother at all.

Just speaking from my experience, but an artist usually have several ways of kicking off a drawing. If I start off drawing a character without actually knowing what I want to draw, I face the same exact problem as you where all the characters are just there! Standing! That isn’t a bad thing, however. I sketch a lot (roughly and fast ngl) so I immediately shift to the next drawing and considered those my warmups until a solid idea pops up. I love focusing emotions so I often start from drawing emotions on the character before coming up with scenarios for them.

Another way of kicking off a drawing is to start with a general idea. It can be a concept, a dialogue, or a composition.

Examples of said ideas I can recall:

•eremin kissing in a wide bloody background

•Eren holding armin’s face w that bloodied hand

•Flojean in a cell. Floch lives

•Gen with his hand as foreground

Concepts can start forming when you’re drawing so you keep adding in the details, or they can even change completely midway depends on you. No need to commit to it, these are just something to get your engine running!

I firmly believe that putting stories in art make it so much more special. My favorite artist is a comic artist, and they express so much and so well in even the smallest panel, their art is truly my inspiration! So as long as you got your story down and try to express it, every piece of your art is unique in its own way💖

(Also if you notice, all my backgrounds are suuuuper lazy made. I barely drawing them, most are a bunch of gradient and colors. But that’s the whole point, as long as the colors indicate what, where, and the atmosphere I don’t feel the need to draw them out!)

I find my art very rough most of the times, but the skill to let go “refining art” and prioritize dynamic and overall atmosphere are essential. It’s also always beneficial to practice drawing people on different angles and pose because it broadens your options for composition!

One last thing: everyone has a personal library in their head, whether it’s for stories, compositions, cool dialogues, lighting, character designs, music, or more. Your library was built according to your interests and what you consume. Personally I LOVE reading fanfics, watching films and series and animations of the genres I’m into. Watching more media will always give you ideas, once in a while you can go back to your library and think what would you like to see that suits your taste and haven’t been done yet.

OKAY, This replies become super long for some reason😭 I’m not the best person when it comes to explaining my thought process but I’ve always love art questions.

Anyway I hope this helps! May your drawing journey be filled with joy

[popjunkie42]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @beesays!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

16, although four of those are poems!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

156k although some of that is the Time Loop group project.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

ACOTAR entirely, although my hope by the end of the year is to have at least one Folk of the Air fic out there…we will see how time and inspiration goes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hate Me Instead

The Thief and the Rake

Books and Wings

Blossoming in Winter

Present

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always!!! I truly live for comments so I try to respond to all of them as much as possible.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I am a fan of the HEA but I’d have to say One for My Baby, One for the Road or Hate Me Instead (which I mostly think of as bittersweet…).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think Blossoming in Winter - I definitely remember asking my beta readers “are we sure this isn’t TOO MUCH?”

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Fortunately not, please don’t come for me, I have a sensitive heart.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, enthusiastically. Very lovey-dovey stuff.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I haven’t…although I didn’t really know what to label Blossoming in Winter. Inspired by the universe?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Fortunately not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven’t yet, although my time won’t fly (it’s Iike I’m paralyzed by it) chapter is coming (biggest group project ever) and there’s maybe a few other things in the works…

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Feysand has my brain in a complete lock, although the biggest one before that was probably Mulder and Scully.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Ooof. I don’t know if Enchanted, Enthralled is ever going anywhere…please enjoy it as a one-shot smut story! I have some little ACOMAF pieces I was working on around the same time as Hate Me Instead: one was Rhys and Mor just after returning from UTM, and the other is the IC in the townhouse after Feyre first arrives. I like them but I may have moved on, so they might live in my drafts as little cute memories.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I do really like playing with elements of a story and just like that process of finding the flow of it, what parts are best as dialogue, interiority, internal musings, etc. I try to have an occasional nice poetic turn of phrase or description. And I think I am getting better at creating excitement and drama in my stories. Oh, and I do love writing Feysand dialogue more than anything.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Endless. I’m a terrible over-writer, I’m working on it. I always struggle with focusing too much on the physical movements of characters instead of moving things along. And I always work hard (and often fail) to really get into a character’s head and creating that natural feeling of seeing and feeling through them…maybe hard to explain but just that sense-filled flow of thoughts and non-sequitors and impressions and feelings that I always want to get better at.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have never done it, but if I did, I would definitely try to find a friend or beta reader to read through and make sure it was clear and accurate. I would be nervous to do this with a language I wasn’t really familiar with!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest half a lifetime ago! Let us hope all those fics are lost to time. I was like 12 years old.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I love all my babies, but The Thief and the Rake has been especially fun to write. Although I do feel like I’m thinking about Painted Blind in the background 24/7…good thing I’m actively publishing both now. :)

Tagging @witch-and-her-witcher @wilde-knight @rosanna-writer @climbthemountain2020 @tunaababee and @whatishowedyouinthedark (no pressure!)

[true-blue-sonic]

For the ask game: 17, 18, 19 & 20

17. How do you overcome writers block or imposter’s syndrome?

I think having a good idea about what I want to write is nice. It helps to just ramble with friends about things I like to talk about (such as Espilver haha), to see if anything inspiring comes out of it that I'd like to write, in my opinion! As for imposter syndrome, I'm not sure🤔 I guess accepting that it's better to write for yourself than for an not-guaranteed audience is important, because then you feel rewarded by writing and not by the comments and attention that you're not at all certain to get. But, do try to get a friend who is just as deep into the blorbo rabbit hole as you are. The best, most touching and cutest stories I have written for only me and a friend who I rp with, focusing on our own world and the characters we both adore. That is guaranteed attention and adoration for the writing! :>

18. Would you ever consider rewriting your older fics? Which fics would you like to revisit and why?

Maybe Belong? I tried to read it once and I couldn't get through it, I can't stand my writing style from back then XD But it did introduce Venice, and he's a sweetheart <3 I would change quite a few things though: I'd completely cut out the Restoration and I'd definitely have to look into Eggman and the Chaos Emeralds, I remember I found myself completely stuck there. But it's a short little fic to start with!

And considering my stance on New Beginnings... maybe, maybe that one. If I ever find myself with endless time, lmao. I am sure I can make it be more than 195k words if I do XD

19. Do you reread your fics after you publish them? Why or why not?

I'm quite poor at rereading my fics, so... I guess all of them, haha! I rarely get comments on old fics that I completely forgot even existed. But that is fun, then I read it again to see what it's about ^-^

20. Share some writing advice!

WRITE THINGS DOWN. If you get an idea, write it down. It has happened far too often to me that I have a nice piece of dialogue or action tags in my mind when I'm in bed, and I'm like "Meh, I'll remember that tomorrow! :D" and then I go to sleep.

I never, ever, ever remember. Write it down!!