#long hair wanderer long hair wanderer

[quesadilla-day]

an archon and her shadow's day off 🌱🐈‍⬛ (alt color under the cut)

[the-cooler-dracula]

WANTED

[cfffrk]

fashion!au, sixties or fifties, thought up with @karabin4ik :з

Jeeves the famous fashion designer, one day was having coffee on the veranda at a cafe and reading a newspaper. In an instant this newspaper was snatched from his hands by a certain tall stranger. He hid his face in it, sat down opposite Jeeves at the table, and stood still. Reginald was about to be indignant, but a girl jumped out of the corner of the room, looking round with frantic eyes for this particular stranger. Without noticing him, she went on along the street, and the strange fellow awkwardly and apologetically returned the paper and fled. Jeeves remembered his hideous suit and tall, slender figure: he had long needed models of that build for his new men's collection. But everything happened so quickly that Jeeves didn't even have time to give him his business card.

The next day fate was favourable to Jeeves: walking along the seafront, he saw the couple again. They were talking in high tones, and the fellow with the long-suffering expression on his face was trying to get out of the conversation. Using all his charm and politeness, Jeeves stepped in and helped the stranger out of trouble. In return for the favour, Jeeves offered him a ride to his costume studio to try something on. So this is the moment:

(by the way, Jeeves' costumes won't be to Bertie's taste, so he leaves, but Aunt Dahlia finding a crumpled business card in his flat will make him come back)

DBH!au, thought up with @karabin4ik :]

In this au the Wooster family is in the business of manufacturing and selling high-end universal android servants all over England and the world. At some point their company invents a new model RJ0 - the ultimate android servant that can literally do everything and satisfy your every whim. It is perfect in everything, but because of the crude software it sometimes shows its character and acts not quite according to the master's expectations.

[chrollogy]

??????? sir your corruption kink is showing

[fentennyson]

Anybody else miss when crossover groups were popular?

[xmrnothingx]

Carmen Constantinople

Been a while since I drew Carmen, one of my first OCs. It's not sweater weather here, but it is somewhere in the world.

[maulfucker]

time for clones

[nikkodikko]

High braid jon!!!

[moeblob]

Windy at my house + power flickering = no comm work = quick laptop doodle

[unicornsaures]

Divinity lams AU?

Alex is some divine, etheral being and John is just a pathetic and lost fallen angel who swears his devotion to this 'otherworldly being' for the privilege of following him around and being with him for eternity because it gives him a purpose. And at first, Alex just sees him as this sad soul whos's lost and doesnt know what to do and genuinely takes pity on him; but eventually it goes from a 'worshiped and worshiper' relationship to a relationship in which Alex see's him as an equal despite being nothing but.

And even before this, John had been searching for guidance through other people because he never fully trusted his instincts and yet this had only led him to be distrusting because the very reason he had 'fallen' was because he had followed anothers lead. In turn, he turned to etheral 'gods' who he knows cant do him wrong because they'll always view themselves as above him, and with pledging his devotion, they cant turn on him because he will forever be their faithful subject.

Unfortunately for John his devotion borders more on obsession. He loves looking up to see someone so majestic staring back down at him with such a soft smile in contrast to piercing eyes and to know Alex would be looking at him makes his heart flutter and insides melt and skin on In fire(figuratively..) and makes him just want to cut off his wings and give them to Alex as a sign of his true adoration he holds for him. And obviously this concerns Alex. I mean, his poor devotee is willing to do anything for him but theres a line, right? Alex still cares for him of course, what kind of being would he be if he allowed someone to sacrifice their own peace for him?

Cue emotional outburst number one! John would be rambling softly about how if he had the strength he would just rip out his wings and alex has to lean down and gently rest his palm on John's cheek to tell him not to ruin his beautiful wings and that being with him is devotion enough for him and that physical pain in his name would only cause harm. And then tears, of course, in natural angst fashion.

Oh, and John has an immense fear of corrupting Alex the entire time due to the fact hes a 'sinner' (by his own standards) and being in the presence of such divinity as a 'corrupted being' puts Alex at risk to fall from his stance of power. But even despite his fear he can't leave not only due to this eternal soul-binding agreement, but because being in his presence makes him feel alive and as though he can feel love again even after he had failed in doing so for so many years. But in the end Alex doesnt see himself as higher or with more power but as an equal.

John would have 'given up' his ability to feel love for another in order to be fully devoted to Alex, and yet he was convinced he didnt have it in the first place so he decided he wouldnt be giving it up if he never had it. But in turn he discovered that he did have the ability to love, but it had to be discovered through giving up the ability to love anyone other than Alex, and in a way hes happier with that.

But even so, John doesnt think hes worthy enough to be so close to someone so much better than he is, and he does view it as a privilege to be there until Alex tells him to stand up in which he physically has to look down at alex(he would stand at other points, of course, but he would never physically look down. If alex would speak to him he would physically attempt to lower his height to keep Alex above him by his own personal will.) But that is the point where he would cup johns face and then tell him that he's wonderful and the most faithful devotee hes had the 'honor' of being with and then tears. so many tears. so many pent up tears form years john has been telling himself that he cant feel love and to even be in the vicinity of Alex is a privilege that he doesnt deserve just to be told to his face that this divine being loves him and appreciates everything hes done and he doesnt want John to be hurt for him.

[pttucker]

Okay, so, I've been thinking about some of my more recent posts and have started to combine them with some of my older posts and think I've come up with another theory that I want to throw out into the wild while we've still got like 40% of the novel left to go.

Well, actually it's not really a new theory for me per se, but I think I've finally cemented it whereas in the past I've had vague suspicions. Which has resulted in another giant post.

tl;dr: there are three stories in the novel, with the novel itself being Dokja's story and I think by the end Dokja will realize that he's inside ORV itself in a sort of Neverending Story kind of way, the Fourth Wall is between him and our world (and maybe also him and TWSA), and that the true Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint belongs to us.

So, anyway, I recently made a post about Han Sooyoung being the author of TWSA and overall I think this current arc we're going through right now is another major allegory / foreshadow for how the characters relate to TWSA, just like the Peace Land arc. But thinking on it some more, I think this arc (and possibly also Peace Land) is also showing how they relate to ORV itself.

Like, I actually even specifically said that certain passages relate to the overall plot of ORV such as this one—

Regrettably, there was no guarantee of the work ending up as a success even if the author did an excellent job. – Time to start our attack, Yoo Joonghyuk. Because the ones to complete the story were the 'Characters', not the author, that's why.

—and I think by taking that just a tiny step further, in combination with other clues, ORV itself will end up being almost a Neverending Story type of deal. Not necessarily with Dokja trying to talk to us like Sebastian and the Childlike Empress, but literally just realizing that he's a character in a novel.

Which is something Dokja has technically already realized, and maybe even unconsciously accepted, not only because of the above passage where he lowkey calls himself a character but also because he's seen that he's listed as a character when he messed around with the Fourth Wall (more on that later) and we have no idea if he recently became one or if he's always been a character and didn't realize it.

Unrestrained questions flooded my head. Why did I get this story here? What was the relationship between that story and being called a character? Was I now a character or was I still a reader? I… Was I still able to change the future?

However, I think the big reveal for Dokja is going to be not that he's a character but that the novel is not TWSA but instead ORV.

In fact, I know I've been using "TWSA" as kind of a shorthand for the world that Dokja is now in, with the scenarios and Joonghyuk and such, as compared to the "real world" he was in before as a company worker, but technically speaking TWSA is not Dokja's story. He is not inside TWSA. TWSA still exists as a completely separate text that he has access to and every time he looks at the revisions of TWSA they are still Joonghyuk's story. They go all the way up to the 1863rd round, and while Dokja is in the TWSA revisions, that's because Dokja is a part of Joonghyuk's story in the third round.

And speaking of the revisions, I kind of breezed past this in the tags of another post but Dokja got the Final Revision immediately after thinking to himself that he wants "an author" to tell him that he did good, that it's all going to work out in the end, that he's made the right choices. At the time I thought that perhaps Sooyoung could be the author of the revisions but now I don't think so anymore.

Going back through the text, the First Revision appeared when Dokja was dying in the Industrial Complex and he wanted to read TWSA to try to figure out if there was any sort of hope to fix things without having to ruin his story by killing innocent people. (And honestly he wasn't in any shape to kill people even if he wanted to at that point.) The Second Revision came after he abandoned Breaking the Sky Sword Saint to fight the outer god alone and felt like crap because of it (to be fair she shoved him through the portal while he was still trying to convince her to come) and he and Joonghyuk had a mini-conversation about what to do after and all Dokja could think of is to just keep struggling as best they can.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that all of the revisions have come when Dokja is at an extremely low point, floundering, trying to have someone tell him what to do, tell him that he's made the right choices, etc. Except not once has he actually said anything to anyone in the story around him. He didn't actually end up asking Sooyoung if he did the right thing; he wanted her to tell him it's going to be okay but he only thought it. Just like every other time the revisions have appeared. Almost like they came from someone else who can see what he's going through right then and knows he needs a little help...

Also, back when Sooyoung's version of the story first appeared, I was a little confused by the (First) after it, thinking that maybe Joonghyuk only had the first part of the story, but then later we see that Joonghyuk has 『Han Sooyoung – Records of the 1863rd turn (Last)』.

So now I don't think Sooyoung is writing the TWSA revisions, even if I do think she wrote the original TWSA, and I think that her story is also getting revised as she changes it because she is also a character in which "the ones to complete the story were the 'Characters', not the author" applies.

And speaking of the stories, I kind of went off on a sort of three, three, three tangent in the Sooyoung post, but I realize now that that can be taken even further. There's three unknown beings still left in ORV (Secretive Plotter, Oldest Dream, TWSA's Author), there's three protagonists in both TWSA and ORV, there's three people involved in a novel (Reader, Writer, Character), and there's three ways to the survive the apocalypse. Which, TWSA lists those ways as Regressor, Returnee, and Reincarnator.

But, technically, aren't we also seeing three ways to survive the apocalypse right now? Joonghyuk's way in TWSA, Han Sooyoung's way in her diary, and Dokja's way in ORV itself. Not to mention, now that I think about it, we have Regressor Joonghyuk, Returnee Dokja, and now Reincarnator Sooyoung...

Three separate stories, all sort of TWSA but not technically, more like they're all different versions of the same story. And the dokkaebi's have recently started talking about "which story will you choose" (talking to Bihyung btw, who's been helping Dokja all this time...) and everyone else in ORV keeps going on about a Single Story and how they're all vying for their true story and ending. And how maybe the true story/ending has finally come. Because this particular timeline is going through Dokja's story...which is ORV.

And too when I had the post about the "failed stories" I wondered if maybe it was foreshadowing for ORV ending in tragedy (and maybe that's still true) but also now that I think about the "failed stories" and how both Sooyoung's story and Joonghyuk's story could be considered the "failed stories" in a loose way. Granted, we don't currently know how those stories actually ended since ORV started off with Dokja waiting for the epilogue and the 1863rd ending was disrupted by Dokja, though Dokja has been pretty heavily implying that at least TWSA ended in tragedy up to the epilogue. And with the Single Story it's possible that all three of them will end up combined in the end of ORV itself.

Especially since we don't know what happened to 1864th Joonghyuk. It's possible we may see him again at the end of ORV. Also, I just realized that Joonghyuk stopped being a character when he moved past what was written in his personal story but, atm at least, he's also past ORV's story since we haven't seen him since and Dokja has no way of knowing what's going on with him.

On the topic of endings and epilogues, Dokja has been less and less willing to read TWSA as he starts living his own story and has finally outright said that he doesn't think his epilogue will be in the file. And, yeah, if Dokja's story is ORV then his epilogue would be ORV's epilogue. And ORV does have one. Even though I don't read the chapter titles ahead of time due to spoilers, I did notice when I looked to see how many total chapters ORV has that the last one had the word "epilogue" in the title.

And that's not even getting into Dokja casually stating that the novel is a lie. Which is very interesting.

And of course, there's the infamous moment where (while Dokja is sleeping I might add) the Fourth Wall starts telling the 1863rd Joonghyuk Dokya's story and it literally starts reciting the opening passages of ORV itself. And I'm pretty sure that when Sangah shoved him into it, he once again saw Dokja's story (ORV) just due to the fact that he zeroed in on not just Secretive Plotter, who doesn't appear in TWSA, but specifically all the things Secretive Plotter did in regards to and with Dokja.

In fact, as Dokja messes around with his Fourth Wall more and more, it becomes more and more sentient and present in Dokja's story (ORV) and he starts seeing things that perhaps he, as a character of ORV, was never meant to see, such as the fact that he's a character or that the Fourth Wall goes from simply blocking mental attacks to narrating Dokja's actions, reflecting his thoughts, etc. Just like ORV does for us readers.

I've actually briefly contemplated in the past that perhaps the Fourth Wall isn't necessarily protecting Dokja from the elements of TWSA, but in fact protecting him from the outside world (relevant part quoted below)—

Oh man, what if that's what it means by Fourth Wall? Instead of Dokja being a real person and the Fourth Wall existing because he knows he's not part of the novel, what if he's a character and the Fourth Wall is actually the barrier between him and the real world where the author lives? In which case, the being behind the Fourth Wall could be the author (or the reader!) of Dokja's story.

—and I then later began to wonder if it might be our world and not just some random third world inside the story of ORV, and I really do think that's the case now. Or it could be both! If I'm reading a comic about Batman who's reading a comic about Spider-Man, both I and Batman have a Fourth Wall between us and the fictional world we're reading about, ergo Batman has a Fourth Wall working both ways. (Ignore past Marvel/DC Comics team ups, pretty sure those aren't considered canon lol.)

And this is not only because of the fact that the Fourth Wall is acting more and more like a narrator (or like the third-person text of ORV) but that Dokja reacts so poorly to it going down. Sure, the first time the Fourth Wall went down a million constellations tried to attack him so that caused him issues, but later when he took down a little bit of it for the giants he was in a place with only his most trusted constellations who didn't seem to make any attempt to attack him and he only opened it up a teeny tiny amount and yet he still was physically wrecked. I don't think that he would be that affected by now by the elements of TWSA, especially since he literally learned he was a character and was freaked out for a moment but didn't have this big world-ending crisis...like he might if he attempted to connect to our world. Also, Dokja still hasn't gone back to the idea of using ORV on himself...

And on that topic, I know that I've kind of joked before that Dokja is the most oblivious person ever for someone who also happens to be able to read various characters' minds and see their actions, but honestly speaking there are tons of parts of ORV that are from other POVs that Dokja has never and likely will never see. I actually started tracking them about a hundred chapters back and we get a different POV, even if it's just a few paragraphs, almost every third or fourth chapter. And they're all from the third-person POV, just like how the Fourth Wall speaks.

Meaning that the true omniscient reader's viewpoint is ours.

PS: a very weak "clue" that I'm not really "officially" including is also the fact that The World After The Fall is mentioned as a book that Dokja has read and that's a real webnovel written by the same authors as ORV. I'm not really counting that since I do understand the concept of a cheeky little cameo but it could still be fun to at least acknowledge the possibility that it's something that secretly indicates that Dokja is maybe a little more connected with our world than any of the others.

PPS: I think if I find time this weekend I'm gonna go back through at tag everything or make a list of all my posts or something. Trying to find links for this majorly sucked and I just kind of gave up at points lmfao.

[haledamage]

Past, Present, Future

I was planning to write something a little more seasonally-appropriate, but stumbled across a WIP that my brain decided to latch onto instead. So, uh… Happy Life Day?

@queen-scribbles gave me this prompt in a conversation we had well over a year ago, and I’ve finally finished it 😅 the specific request was something along the lines of “LET THEM SMOOCH ALREADY DAMMIT” for Qora/Arcann, and the prompts were:

“don’t leave, illusion, too loud, or harsh whisper”

I’m not sure where exactly this fits on the timeline, but definitely later on in-game. probably post-Echoes of Vengeance, but I… haven’t actually finished that questline yet, so there should be little to no spoilers 😆 ~2.5k words, trigger warning for abuse/violence against children, because this is Qora and Arcann we’re talking about

---

“Again.”

The overseer’s stern voice echoed through the chamber, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

The training room was dark beyond the platform Qora stood in the center of, giving her the illusion that she was alone. But she wasn’t. She knew she had an audience, but who they were or how many, she had no idea. The whole Academy could’ve been watching, and she wouldn’t know the difference.

The sweet-metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, along with the acrid odor of sweat and the ever-present ozone tang of lightning.

There was blood in her mouth, too. Her lip was bleeding sluggishly, split by a lucky blow… five fights ago? Six? She’d lost count.

Four acolytes stepped out of the shadows to join her on the platform. They were all older than her - most of the other acolytes were - and they were all armed.

Qora tightened the grip on her own practice blades, the handles digging into her palms. Her combat stance was steady, even if the rest of her didn’t feel it.

“Begin.”

The first acolyte lunged too quickly, too eager for the kill, and didn’t have the safety of numbers to protect him. One hard strike to the jaw, and he was on the floor before the others had even started moving.

The second and third were smart enough to attack together, both rushing her in tandem. Their swords were a blur of motion, almost too fast to follow, but she managed to keep them at bay. When the larger of the two raised his blade for what was meant to be an incapacitating blow, Qora reached out with the Force and dragged the smaller one between them. The blow took her opponent out instead. After that, the other one was dispatched easily.

The fourth snuck up behind her as soon as Two and Three were down. The pommel of his sword slammed into the back of her skull.

Her vision went white. She lashed out on instinct, swinging her blade in the direction the blow had come from.

She heard her opponent hit the mat, and followed right after him.

It was over almost as soon as it began.

“Again.”

The overseer’s voice sounded farther away, hard to hear over her own too loud heartbeat. Static hissed at the edges of Qora’s vision, and her eyes refused to focus. She could feel her consciousness slipping, and clung to it with everything she had.

“Again.”

The repeated order was a threat. A concussion would be the least of her worries if she didn’t stand up soon, but her legs refused to obey her orders.

A hand appeared in what remained of her field of vision, and Qora snapped her head up. Forcing herself to focus past the pain, she followed the arm up to… a boy. 

A boy she knew--though she wasn’t sure how she knew him. 

He looked to be around twelve or thirteen, the same age as her, with the same buzzed hair that she and all the other younger acolytes had, and gentle, pale blue eyes. The fine white robes he wore were much different than the grays and blacks the rest of them had, and contrasted so sharply against their dark surroundings that he almost seemed to glow.

“On your feet, Qora,” he said in a soft, raspy voice, his words firm but not demanding. “The next wave won’t wait for you to recover.”

“They never do,” she replied dryly. Her own voice sounded unfamiliar to her ears, a Corellian drawl instead of the crisp edges of Dromund Kaas. Like someone had filed all the corners off of her accent. She hadn't sounded like that in a long time.

She shook off the thought and took the offered hand, letting him help her to her feet. He didn’t flinch away from the cold metal of her prosthetic, or from the way she stumbled as her bruised and battered limbs protested the change in position. He just held on and let her take her time steadying herself.

He only let her go once he was sure she could stand on her own. “Are you alright?”

Part of her wanted to laugh at the question, no matter how sincere it was, but she bit it back. Instead, she said, “You shouldn’t have come here, Arcann. It’s not--not safe to be around me. Especially not here.”

“Just try and stop me.” Despite her warning and his challenge in response, Arcann carefully cupped the back of her head. The pain eased immediately in a warm yellow glow and a muted hum of the Force. “Unless you’d rather face them on your own?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“That is not what I asked.”

“...No.” Qora felt guilty as soon as the word was out. It was stupid and selfish and Arcann was going to get hurt because of her, but it was too late to take it back. “Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“Never.” His hand slid from the back of her head along her jaw, until his thumb brushed her bottom lip. Another whisper of Force healing, and there was no evidence of the split lip besides the blood in her mouth. “There is nowhere I would rather be than by your side.”

There was a sound of boots scuffing against stone as someone else approached, and Qora and Arcann turned in tandem, shifting until they stood back to back. Blindly, she reached back and pressed one of her swords into his hand.

He squeezed her hand before taking the offered weapon. “You know this is a dream, right?” he murmured, as six new acolytes stepped into the light with them.

“Yes.” She knew it the same way she knew Arcann’s name, knew the difference in her own accent. “Doesn’t make it less real.”

Further conversation was halted as the overseer’s voice snapped “Begin,” and the acolytes closed in.

Qora and Arcann moved as one, staying back to back in the center of the platform. When one of their assailants rushed toward Arcann’s left, Qora spun to intercept, knowing his vision was limited on that side--or would be, someday, in a future far from this place--and caught the oncoming vibrosword with her own before it could make contact. She took that one down with a sharp elbow strike to the jaw.

A second acolyte took advantage of her momentary distraction and threw their sword, sending it in a Force-aimed arc toward her now-unguarded side.

Arcann snatched it out of the air without even looking, still holding back another two opponents with his other hand. He presented Qora the hilt with a small, playful flourish. “Your weapon, my lord.”

She laughed, exultant and a touch manic, as she swept the sword out in front of her, sending another opponent scrambling backwards to avoid it. It was the first time the Academy walls had ever heard her laughter, even in dreams.

The remaining assailants didn’t stand a chance. They were on the floor before they had time to react.

“How many more are there?” Arcann asked, when they were alone again. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet, that first round barely enough to make him breathe faster.

“However many it takes.”

“Again,” the overseer called out, but neither of them heeded the implied threat this time. Qora was no longer afraid, now that Arcann was by her side.

“Takes for what?”

“For me to learn my lesson.” She stepped away from him toward the edge of the platform. From there, she could just barely see past the heavy darkness to the dozens of faceless, nameless acolytes that still waited for their turn. Far more of them than there’d ever been while she was a student (a prisoner, a gladiator, a slave) at the Academy.

She felt when Arcann stepped up beside her, though his footsteps made no sound. “Is this training, or a punishment?”

She laughed again, empty, humorless, bitter. “You’d be surprised how often the two coincide.”

“No. I would not.” The anger in his voice was a distant thing, an echo of past rage rather than something fresh. His hand gently covered hers, easing the white-knuckled grip she still had on the vibroblade. “This isn’t your life anymore, Qora. You don’t have to keep fighting.”

The sword fell from her hand, and she reached out to cling to him instead. “This is who I am. What I was made for.”

“Not anymore.” He tugged on her hand, coaxing her to turn around. When she did, his other hand settled over her cheek, the warmth of his touch comforting in the chill of the training arena. “It’s time to wake up.”

Qora awoke with a gasp to find herself in the familiar confines of her quarters on Odessen. The blankets were hopelessly tangled around her legs. The cluttered shelves and tables nearest the bed were in disarray from the Force reacting to her emotions, some of their contents spilling onto the floor.

Arcann’s arm tightened around her waist, and just his presence was enough to clear her mind and slow the panicked flurry of her heart. Without a word, she rolled over and pressed her face into his shoulder.

His hand traveled up and down the length of her spine, gentle and soothing but firm enough to anchor her. With every caress, the Academy fell farther away.

Eventually, she felt calm enough to pull back, if only just far enough to see his face. The look she found there was patient and understanding, embers of anger shining in his eyes but very clearly not directed at her.

“Sometimes it feels like no matter how far I travel, part of me will always be twelve years old, alone in that pit,” she confessed quietly. Arcann’s anger flared a little brighter, but he didn’t interrupt. “It was supposed to break me. So they could reforge me into something more useful. I guess in some ways, it did.”

She certainly didn’t bear any resemblance to the child she’d been before the Sith took her, that little girl who crawled through Corellian junkyards for scraps she could turn into art. Sweet little Qora, who could fix anything you brought her, be it a speeder or a teddy bear or a broken arm. She liked to think that girl might have become a healer, if she’d been able to join the Jedi like she was meant to.

Qora let her hands wander, fingertips tracing the lines of scars on Arcann’s shoulder and chest, following the edge of where warm skin and firm muscle gave way to the cool metal of his cybernetics.

“This happened on Korriban, too, didn’t it? Not long before we met.” It wasn’t really a question, and she didn’t really expect an answer, but she got one anyway.

“Yes.” He caught her hand and stopped its further exploration, pressing it flat over his heart. “And they paid dearly for it. My brother and I made sure of that.”

“Good. I hope you burned it all down,” she said in a harsh whisper. She hoped Arcann and Thexan had reduced the entire planet to ash, every tomb, every temple, every overseer, every blasted k’lor’slug crushed under the might of the Eternal Empire. “Not even the memory of that place deserves to be left standing.”

Rage burned so hot in her chest that it hurt to breathe, and she shook with the effort to push it down. Tears blurred her vision and stung the corners of her eyes, but Qora refused to let them fall. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of her tears, even when they weren’t here to see it.

Arcann didn't reply, but instead rolled them over so that she was on her back, his body caging her in and pressing her down into the mattress. It grounded her, forcing her out of the past and back into her own body, driving away all thoughts of Korriban and the Academy and the shadows of the training room.

He kissed her then, slow and deep, demanding her attention to be on him and him alone. That was a command she was more than happy to follow. The fire in her chest receded, replaced by a much more pleasant warmth that built and spread through her under his skillful guidance, and the tremor in her hands abated when she cupped his face between them.

It was only when the mood started to shift from comfort to desire, kisses turning heated and hands starting to roam, that Arcann broke away. He was breathing harder just from kissing her than he had been at any point in the nightmare they’d just escaped.

“They will never touch you again. I swear it,” he vowed, deep voice solemn and utterly sincere.

“I believe you.” She exhaled a long breath, releasing the last lingering tension with it, and drew him back down enough for their foreheads to touch. “Thank you, Arcann. I needed to hear that.”

No matter what the Sith Council thought, or the machinations of whoever they’d decided to blindly follow this week, she was beyond their reach now. She had no doubt that if they tried to subjugate her again, they would learn their lesson the hard way. And Arcann would be among the first in line to teach it to them.

She was grateful that he was so willing to remind her of that, when she needed it.

Qora let out another sigh and slid her hands up to the back of his neck, playing idly with the hair at his nape. It was only barely long enough to run her fingers through, but she adored it. Both for what it represented for Arcann’s healing and growth and because it was just… pretty. His hair was silky soft to the touch, and the warm caramel color made his eyes appear an even brighter blue. It warmed her heart every time she looked at him, to see this visible proof of how far they’d come.

They should probably talk about what had just happened, she knew that, but she wasn’t in any hurry to broach the subject and reopen those wounds for the second time in one night. It’s not like this was their first time sharing dreams, anyway, even if none of the others had been quite so… authentic. Dwelling on it wouldn’t solve anything.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” There wouldn’t be any more rest for her tonight, but that didn’t mean Arcann had to suffer on her account. “There are still a few hours until--”

“No.” How he could put so much intention into a single syllable, she’d never know, but when combined with the heated look he gave her, it was enough to make her shiver. 

“Oh?” she said in feigned innocence, even as she lightly scraped her nails against his scalp. It earned her a low rumble that she felt more than heard, something between a warning growl and a contented purr. “Did you have something else in mind?”

His smile was soft, and so was the kiss that followed it; neither did anything to dim the desire burning in his eyes.

“The past will always haunt us, in one form or another.” He took one of her hands in his and slowly led it down from his neck and over his shoulder, his chest, his ribs, lingering on a scar there.

It was one Qora knew very well. And she should--after all, she’d put it there herself. During their last fight, when she’d “defeated” him. She brushed her thumb over the thin, raised line; such a small souvenir from something that had been so important.

Arcann only let her linger for a few seconds before moving on, guiding her deliberately lower. His lips grazed her cheek before finding firmer purchase on the sensitive spot under her ear. “There is no need for us to give it more power than it already has. I would rather… appreciate what’s right in front of me.”

“By all means. Appreciate away.” Her breath hitched when he kissed the hollow of her throat, ruining any attempt at keeping her tone light and teasing. She gave it up as a lost cause, and surrendered completely to him, and to whatever came next.

[sysig]

Yeah of course I’m still thinking about plushies, what else (Patreon)

Most specifically thinking about magnets again - there’s the obvious of putting it in their hands so they can hold hands!

Of course if they’re on the same side i.e. right hand gets south polarity, left gets north, they’d only be able to hold opposite hands, so no handshakes (but I think that’s fine personally haha)

But on top of hands they could also have magnets behind their mouth! Kiss-magnets! My only real concern is the fabric pulling and developing kiss-wrinkles from being pressed against each other haha

They’d also be able to giggle with their palms to their mouths hehe, how cute! It’d depend on their kiss polarity

Which would of course depend on ship compatibility! Max has to be able to kiss Dex and Caleb, so if that makes it that Caleb and Dex can’t kiss, I mean that’s just an unfortunate side effect haha

[suenden-hund]

friend

[goblin-enjoyer]

*draws something for the first time in a while. “Man I suck at drawing! Maybe go back to being good at it if I draw more!”

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

“Oh I got a neat idea for a drawing! Surely I have gotten better by now!” Loop post

[0-mapledaze-0]

🪷Afterimage of the Lightning’s Glow🪷

A scara design i made based on the wanderer outfit and ei’s outfit. Perhaps this is a scara who lived with ei instead of being abandoned? Or perhaps a scara that reconciled with his mother? I’m not sure but i hope you all enjoy regardless 🩵