#so i just draw for self-indulgence hehe

[leyonnaise]

hiii i was just wondering what happened to your almona (yelonnaise) account on twitter bc i really miss your almona art

oh, i deactivated it because it had come to a point where i actually abandoned it for more than a month ^^;; i stopped playing genshin after v3.8, and i didn't want to keep the account around for too long since i'm bad at managing many accounts at once haha.. i do still draw almona whenever i miss them, i just don't post it. thank you for asking!

[favoure]

"do the opposite of what people tell you to do"

[wanderingibon]

a flock of birds, a crow family — everything aside, despite viago's frosty, stern demeanor I think both he and teia care about rook like family, in a way that goes past the pretenses of being a crow or just part of house de riva, they're literally found family to meeeeee

and while you have time, please consider finding a family on op. olive branch 🍉 and supporting / sharing their campaigns, especially the ones with low funding <3

[wis-art]

yeah ok i just wanted to draw gfs stretching here's the other drawing

[jojo-schmo]

Just Admit It- Part 1

I've been playing around with possible friendship dynamics of the Beast Council for fun!! I love imagining what kind of childhood they could have in the Forgotten Land all together.

What if Carol and Sillydillo are the fun-loving extroverts? Leon is the introverted one who's been smitten by Carol for a really really long time but he's too shy about it? And Gori is the friend who is an excellent observer and will bluntly tell you what he thinks (and maybe has a tendency to get grumpy when things aren't easily going his way).

Somewhat of a prequel to this other doodle comic about Leon and Carol- everyone here is still a kid ^_^

Part 2

[sysig]

Two big softies(?) (Patreon)

[mintjeru]

thank you for 1.3k followers!! i'm incredibly flattered that you all like my work ^^ i'll have even better art to share in the future 💕

open for better quality | no reposts | textless version under the cut

[galaxy-fleur]

Warm comfort after a job well done

Some soft Aruna/Chris because they've been brewing on my mind lately. Nothing like a huge, burly man being a massive little spoon at heart.

Aruna info-post!

Additional one-shot bellow <3

Chris lets out a long, weary sigh as his legs drag him up a route he now knows by heart, smooth, automatic doors sliding open with quiet hum to let him through. His haggard appearance doesn't fit among the squeaky clean lab environment, making him stick out like a sore thumb. He never really did look appropriate in here, though. Even on a good day. He's far too big, too rough around the edges for this pristinely tidy place. And yet, against all glaring contradictions, this was also a place to call home.

It wasn't a surprise to find Aruna right where she usually is, her back turned to him, and her hands far too busy with whatever overcomplicated project that was on her plate this time around. In their own right, they were two workaholics through and through, both living their jobs rather than just going through the motions.

Perhaps that explains how they flowed together so well.

As soon as she looked over her shoulder at her visitor, a broad smile spread across her face. He's been out on an assignment for almost a full week now, and even though that was a tried and true routine for them at this point, it always filled his chest with pure relief whenever he came back to see her safe and sound in his time away. Or, well, mostly safe and sound. While Aruna wasn't deployed out in the field nearly as frequently since her primary responsibilities were mostly limited to the lab, that didn't mean she wouldn't get herself into all kinds of bizarre incidents. Whether it was her natural carelessness or her scientific inclination, he sure didn't like just how frequently she'd get another strangely shaped bruise or a charred hair here and there.

In any case, he was far too tired out of his mind to make any remarks on her being up late for work again. He'd be a major hypocrite if he did. Truth is, he was glad she was still on the job. That meant he could come up here and see her like this.

"-You're back! I figure the mission was a success?"

He virtually collapses into the nearest lab chair with a muffled grunt after dragging his body there. Fatigue is evident in his weary eyes, his shoulders slouching as he rests his hands on his knees. Despite his efforts to project a strong exterior, his typically stern and intense gaze looks even heavier and darker due to sheer tiredness pulling him down. In here, he wasn't a tough leader, carrying the responsibility to be everyone's strength, no matter how dire the situation is. In here, he was just Chris. And Chris was so, so tired.

"...Yeah. We got the job done," he replies with a sigh, his gruff and deep voice sounding rougher and hoarser than usual. He knows he comes off as a little curt, but that's mostly because he doesn't want to discuss the job at the moment. The job is all he thought about for days on end. He had to. He needs to rest his thoughts.

Aruna's smile softens into a more understanding one as she briefly scans his body from head to toe to determine what injuries she could already pinpoint without giving it a closer look. Chris was always plagued by injuries. A few new cuts and some sporadic burn are a familiar staple, and that's on a good day. Neither of them would make a big fuss about it. But that doesn't mean they didn't give a damn, either. There was simply no point in dwelling on something that is utterly inevitable in this line of work. Thankfully, aside from utter exhaustion and a pulling ache in his bruised shoulder, there wasn't anything major to worry about this time around. He's here in the first place in part because of that.

She sets her equipment aside, swiftly removing her gloves, and approaching him in a few quick strides. One of her hands rests on his shoulder, her voice soft as she tilts her head down at him: "...You need rest. Not to be rude, but... you look like hell. Did you even go to medical for a checkup before coming here, hm?"

She knows him too well.

He lets out a trembling breath, his tired eyelids fluttering shut, his body starting to relax at her presence. Chris leans against her touch slightly, responding to her, admittedly, very valid question with a slight, stubborn huff.

"I told the rest of the team to go to medical and get examined while I went straight here. I’ll go to medical later," he mutters out with a slight dismissive wave of his hand that felt as though it took half of his remaining energy to even lift his arm up.

Aruna just sighs in clear disapproval, giving him a light, playful nudge that makes him sway in his current seat in spite of all the muscle supposed to keep him steady. Although she's usually all for consideration and understanding - sometimes a bit too much for his liking - she is also well aware that he's not all that good at taking care of himself properly. Everyone needs rest, and she, unfortunately, knew better than to trust him solely on his word.

"Alright, fine, you can rest here. But you're going to medical later, even if I have to drag your hunky butt up there myself," she hums, beginning to comb through his untidy hair, brushing off some dirt and gunpowder that had become tangled in the short locks. Probably not the most appropriate thing to do in a laboratory of all places, but they could allow themselves to break the rules sometimes. They did that far too many times to count at this point, after all.

As he leans into Aruna's hand, silently savoring the sensation of her touch, he can't help but chuckle. She may grumble, but she's still as soft and caring as ever.

"Hunky, huh?" Chris raises an eyebrow at her, a small but playful smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he eyes his fiancé. She rolls her eyes at that, grinning down at him knowingly. Slowly, he raises his better arm and wraps it around her middle, bringing her closer to him and into his lap. Aruna just follows his lead and settles against him without protesting or even teasing him on it as she usually would. He doesn't waste much time to bury his nose against her chest, nuzzling his face against her warm skin, and wrapping a muscular arm around her back to keep her close.

Even though he's now indoors, the cold he's had to endure these past several days still bites at his cheeks, and her body heat feels like a divine escape from it. With a tired and heavy exhale, he slumps against her, resting his body on hers, even as he keeps her in his lap. At this point, it almost feels like he's using her as a personal teddy bear because of the way he eases up against her smaller frame.

Her nails lightly stroke his scalp as her hand returns up to continue combing through his hair mindlessly.

"Hunky, handsome, ridiculously stubborn... Hey, that last one seems to be true even now. I'm kind of scared what you're gonna be like when you're sixty," she adds with a playful smile, her other hand resting upon his shoulder, her thumb rubbing small soothing circles into the fabric of his turtleneck. "I'm gonna be dealing with one stubborn old man."

A warm feeling of affection fills his chest as he grins at that. God, he missed her.

"Ah, but you still fell for me anyway," Chris responds with a tired but teasing tone that comes out sounding muffled against her chest, his warm breath rolling over her skin. His muscles gradually relax as he rests against her in silence for a few peaceful minutes, before letting out a small, tired groan. There is a clear difference between her soft and mostly clear skin, which is usually untouched by direct combat or violence, and his hard and calloused body, which has seen far too much action over the years. He sighs: "...I just want to enjoy your company a little longer. The others got it a lot worse than me. Hell one of ‘em got a bullet go straight through his shoulder so he definitely needs that care way more than I do."

Aruna's smile softens a bit as she continues to silently caress his head. Despite him probably being way too heavy on her like this, she doesn't protest or complain to him one bit, taking all of his - admittedly, rather hefty - weight like a true champ. If anything, it's a clear sign of his tiredness, as he is typically very protective and careful about not being too heavy on her.

"...You should rest," she murmurs quietly. "You really need it."

He leans into her touch with a low hum. Almost like a touchstarved tomcat would, practically melting at her simple caresses.

"I just... need you right now. I need you more than sleep… can I be selfish, just this once?" Chris mumbles out faintly, his voice coming out sounding gruff and vulnerable. He is more than aware that it is far from ideal to be covered in sweat, dirt, grime, and the faint remnants of dried blood, especially when he is holding on to his fiancée like this. He is also well aware that he should probably take a shower and go up to the medical to get examined out properly. But even though he's a filthy, unkempt mess, he's far too exhausted, and all he really wants right now is to just be near her, even if it's only for a minute or two. "…I promise I’ll shower after I get some rest, I just… I need to hold you first."

Aruna leans down and kisses the top of his head.

"You can be selfish as much as you want right now," she assured softly, her hand still stroking his hair. "Just rest. I'm not going anywhere."

He nearly melts into Aruna right then and there. He exhales again, his tense muscles unwinding, further relaxing against her. The adrenaline from the mission is gradually fading from his system now that he's at home and in his fiancé's company. He wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face in her chest again, his eyes fluttering closed and his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.

"…I’m so damn tired." He lets out another trembling sigh, soothed by her presence and the sensation of her soft hands caressing him and petting his hair. The exhaustion seeps into his bones fully, both a relief and a curse in one. "Missed you."

She lets out a quiet 'mhm' in acknowledgement, silently running her fingers through the dried out locks. He guesses his hair is probably far from the softest variety right now. But Aruna didn't mind. She never did. She was always there for him whenever he returned, through the good and the bad, willing to provide any consolation and assistance she could. After all, she understood first hand the cost he had to bear to protect the rest of the world from the bloodshed of bioterrorism. She has never once asked him to stop, even though she was probably just as worried about his safety while he was away as he was about hers. Neither did he.

This was their life, their fight, their purpose. Regardless of how hard and exhausting it was at times, neither of them could see themselves in any other place.

"How about this, big guy… I’ll let you nap here for a bit, but you will be getting your butt up to medical after you wake up. I want you to be properly checked out and treated. And you'll change out of your gear. I’m sure as hell not letting you into our bed smelling like a war zone. You stink," the scientist says sternly, but the hint of a smile can still be heard in her soft tone.

As she relaxes against him, he sneaks in a small and weary smile onto his face. Despite his reluctance to leave her arms, he does admit that she is very much right. He is not willing to argue over something so silly.

"I guess you win. Again." All his senses are now completely relaxed as he holds her against his body, breathing in the scent of her perfume lingering on her skin. Lemon grass and geranium. He nuzzles his nose against her collarbone. "-You better shower with me after all of this is said and done then."

He hears her laugh at his muttered demand, making his smile widen against her.

"Uh-huh, alright, you got yourself a deal, Redfield. Shower together it is," she agrees, her words laced with light playfulness that was like a balm to his battered body. As she lowers herself down, she swiftly pecks his forehead. "Now rest, you big, stubborn idiot."

Another shiver of delight runs down his spine at the simple affection she was spoiling him with. Despite the tiredness and exhaustion he's feeling, the thought of having her warm body pressed against his own in the shower later makes him almost excited about the idea. That's certainly one thing to look forward to, at least.

"I’m your stubborn idiot." With a tired sigh of relief, he presses his face into the soft skin of her neck, practically burying it there, the stubble on his jawline scratching at her slightly, to which she giggles lightly. She can make him completely pliant and docile in her arms, even though he is known for being intense and gruff on the appearance. He whispers against her skin, his voice weary and gravelly: "I’m all yours."

He may have a tendency to appear tough and guarded, but in quiet moments like these, when his body is pliant and docile in her embrace, it became openly clear just how tired and weary he really was under his front of responsibility and leadership.

"You're mine alright," she replies, her fingers slowly massaging the back of his neck, slowly tracing small, soothing circles on his skin. "That means I get to protect you, too. Now rest. You're safe here."

That's all the words he needed to hear.

[articskele]

Dude I think your oc is giving me brainrot because I had a dream where Artic was in a cave and the Once-ler was all curled up looking sad and scared so Artic went up to him and cuddled him. (The reason why he was scared was because he was cursed to turn into a shadow creature. So as he was transforming Artic was just holding him. Also Artic sounded british?? I have no idea what your HC voice for her is but she sounded like Rose Tyler from Doctor who in my dream.)

OUGHGHGHHH I'm having so many thoughts about this-

Right off the bat the concept of a cursed shadowy Onceler reminds me of these posts!!

And caves!! In the valley!! I had already been thinking about em bc of the concept art, something about the valley at night just says "there's a cave behind that waterfall" to me lol

The Onceler running away, maybe because he didn't want Artic to get hurt, maybe because he feared what would happen if she saw him like this.

Maybe, just for a moment, he flinches as Artic reaches for him. Because no matter how badly he wants comfort, he can't help but worry if this curse is contagious or if he'll grow spikes or something.

But once she holds his face in her hands and pulls him in for a hug, the poor man just clings to her the entire time. The steady sound of her heartbeat giving him something to focus on…

There’s this scene of her just. Holding the Onceler so so gently asking if it hurts and it breaks my HEART. THEY'RE SO IN LOVE YOUR HONOR

Artic getting up to take off her wings and set them aside, and he panics a little like "Don't- Don't go" but she reassures him that she's not going anywhere.

I still love you, yknow. No matter what happens, no matter how you look by the end of this... You're still the boy I fell in love with.

RAAAAAAAUGH

I can only imagine what the transformation must feel like. The crickle crackle of bones beneath dark fur. The inexplicable feeling of light fading inside him. Forever standing in the shade, just cold enough to prickle at your skin. Left cold and hollow save for bright yellow eyes, longing for the sunlight.

Maybe his freckles turned white or glow in the dark, something something not all the light is gone, not all hope is lost because someone was there for him.

Maybe he can't be in the sunlight for very long, which is devastating for the guy, but Artic makes a little umbrella contraption for him ouo

And that could be one of the reasons he went to a cave! The light was giving him a really bad headache and he needed to get somewhere darker

And she makes him specialized gloves to help him play the guitar with those hand paws!

Also Artic nuzzling his chest bc he's soft and fuzzy -u-

Woe, british Artic be upon ye aksfjdf- I looked up some clips of that gal and she sounds nice! Canonically Artic just has my irl voice ouo

[cold-neon-ocean]

Posting this by itself because :) I just feel like he should have gotten to wear the mech pilot suit at least once..

(my AU black version and the og green)

[yuseirra]

if there's one thing I personally focus on when I draw something, it would be the emotions. I try to convey the exact emotions of a character when I make art, and portray how they'd be feeling at that exact situation, as they say something, and so on...

I try to feel the same feelings they would when I draw an expression, as close as I can get at least, it's what I do over and over. You don't really have to do that ofc, but for me, it's a huge part of the point and it's really fun to do! It's what I believe could give my drawings more life and make them more genuine, even if it's a sketch (in fact, sometimes sketches can be more powerful on that aspect so I used to stick to drawing exclusively those for a very long time). That's how I pour my heart in, and I'm sure a lot of artists would do the same in their own ways when they create their works.

For that same reason, I really like drawing smiles (and characters that can make genuine ones) because that makes me happy. Other feelings are cool, too, but drawing happy art is so soothing, so I draw a lot of smiles!! It's also why I feel the need to understand a character, because you can't exactly feel what they'd be feeling unless you aren't so aware of what they're going through. I wouldn't be entirely right, I'm sure, but I really want to try. It's maybe why I usually stick to drawing a select few characters from a series all the time, because there are some characters I "get" better than others, and feel I can bring out better(and most of the time, luckily, those kinds of characters end up to be my favs, so I can draw then alot ;v;) Then again, I'm seeing them through my own lens of thinking, I'm just putting out what I see in those characters in the end. But it's usually the good things I love! Or something I feel is really intriguing and want to think about, or want to explore on, emphasize? Anyhow, it's the feelings and emotions part I've always been interested about! So I hope I can do that well!

My drawings aren't perfect, but they aren't too bad either, and I've been trying all the way. If they could imbue some sort of feeling for you, that's definitely what I wanted to accomplish! It makes me so excited when I get feedbacks about it being able to make someone "feel" something.. it means what I wanted got across so I'm like "yes"!!

it'd be nice if they will feel genuine one way or another!! I was and is and will be happy to continue to share my works with you all

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

WHAT DA HECKKKK MAC!!! UR A BIRTHDAY GUY!!!! HOLY SHIT. OLD!!! time 2 put u in a retirement home!!!! IT'S UR DAY OF BIRTH I AM THROWING U A PARTY RN 🎉🥳🎉 TIME 2 HIT THE PINATA 🪄 🪅 CANDY!! 🍭 🍬 🍫 TIME 4 PRESENTS 🎁🎁🎁 CAKE TIME 🧁 BIRTHDAY BOY GETS A CROWN 👑 BLOW OUT THE CANDLES 🧨🧨🧨 <<couldn't find any candles so i got these weird red sticks instead!! i think they're sparklers!! :3

oh fuck i love sparklers-!

[watergrapes]

pirate friends ,,,

[bazingerrr]

Dynamic setting

[14dayswithyou]

What is Ren's schedule for Tuesday? I want to go on a date. 🥹🦭

australian timezone btw ;)

hehe 🦭 hi sai!! (bolded my questions cos i ramble a lot here lol) currently drawing rn but my style leans more towards a stylised semi realistic style - would ren, realistically speaking, look white-passing/caucasian-leaning or do his features (sides from his blue eyes) lean more towards his japanese side more (or is it balanced)?

I personally headcanon that Ren, if he were real, he’d have facial features that would look like Toa’s (@ / krskrskrs444 on ig) aka that one guy who literally appears in everyone’s Pinterest feeds and references 😭😭😭 (below) idk… maybe that’s just a lil self-indulgent because Toas my type and redacted and him have similar alt/emo aesthetics LMAO GUILTY.. 🥲 but if you had to choose any celebrities, IG models, fictional characters etc who do you think Ren would actually resemble the most? Like did you actually get inspired by any IG/Pinterest models etc when designing Ren/Redacted? ^_^

ps i literally plan on drawing redacted w this as the reference lolololol and btw ily /p

⌞♥⌝ The only physical features Ren inherited from Taylor (his father) are his eye and skin colour. So if Ren were real, I think he'd look a lot closer to Ichika (his mother) instead!

Also lmaooo I always get @/my.mengrui showing up on my Pinterest feed all the time T_T He has Ren's exact build + the soft facial features I have in mind, but other than him, I haven't really given it much thought!!

[stargirl-writes]

respite

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 2.2k

masterlist

summary

Amid the war, a healer and a soldier find themselves entangled in a delicate dance between love and survival. When exhaustion and unspoken wounds threaten to drive them apart, they must confront the weight of their fears, jealousy, and vulnerability—knowing that healing isn’t always about fixing what’s broken, but learning to hold on through the storm.

tags : angst, angst with a happy ending (!)

warnings : blood, tending to a wound

notes : hello my loves <3, 1 yr writing for a.s. and long story short all my energy was used trying to survive my medical internship. healer! reader is my most self indulgent coping mechanism— here's another angsty catastrophizing passage i'd like to share wit y'all hehe

Anakin Skywalker was a knife personified.

Sharp, blunt, useful. A touch can draw blood.

But despite the danger, he was made of steel— unrelenting and unyielding. One would make an effort to not stare too much— at what his purpose of being reveals; that in the hands of someone cruel, he becomes something of a weapon.

They say that the healer has the bloodiest hands— a permanent imprint of those you've saved and those you've failed.

You try not to think about it too much— your losses cannot equate to the priviledge of a chance to keep someone alive. That was a gift. Only a God can define salvation—what you're doing is an attempt.

But what did your fingers ever do before they held him?

All of it seemed to pale in comparison.

Maybe the sun has set differently in Coruscant, a place always buzzing with neon and noise— maybe you just stopped noticing it the way you stopped noticing him. You don't know why there remained a part of you that was mistrusting, waiting for him to grow tired with you. Instead, the jagged streaks of electric blue and searing magenta faded into something soft, casting a warm golden light that lingers even after the sun slips behind the horizon, refusing to ever dim.

It's both comforting and heartbreaking that over time you could forget holding onto something so sharp long enough to feel it slip— can leave a trail of blood.

The door to your quarter hisses open— and the weight of Anakin fills the room before he utters a word. His boots are heavy on the floor, dragging with a kind of exhaustion that sinks deeper than muscle and bone. Even his shoulders, which assumes the posture of a Jedi slumps forward. He pauses— gaze wide and apprehending.

His robes are dark with dust and sweat, blood smeared across the cuffs of his bionic arms— not his, someone else's. Always someone else's. He stands there too long, unmoving, as if having already read what's on your mind.

"You're hurt," You speak across the room.

"I'm fine."

His voice is low, flat, like all the life has been scraped out of it. You've seen this before, the wounds he carries aren't the ones stitched into his skin.

He turns on his heel, taking off his clothes. You step closer, noticing the slight wince as he tries to reach for his robes. He held a pose of defiance, unflinching even as you slowly took off the fabric that clung to his flesh. You pressed your palm against the soft skin of his shoulders, coaxing him to sit by the edge of the bed.

He lets out a sigh as the robe slips off. You turn to grab the medkit sitting at your bedside table— its existence a harsh reminder that anytime he comes home— so will the hurt that resides deep within him.

His eyes are hooded and dark as he follows your fingers gently press over a gash lining his chest. He sat still— either too tired to care or too numbed to feel it.

"You can't keep doing this, Anakin,"

He tilts his chin upward, "Doing what?"

You paused, eyes locking in a silent challenge as he kept playing asinine.

"Coming back half-dead and pretending it doesn't matter" You pressed the cloth over his wound, he hisses, flinching away.

He takes your wrist, eyebrows furrowed at your accusation. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Barely."

You seal the wound with a sterile band, the scar tissue will build thick and uneven, just like all pain that he refuses to touch buried deep underneath.

It's hard not to get frustrated to watch Anakin undo all the work you've done— that he would resort to passively allowing it to hurt. His skill with a saber is unquestionable, a droid won't be able to even come near him to inflict pain. As the war dragged on— he'd come home late at night appearing more and more injured. Perhaps it's his way to alleviate some guilt. Because he needs it to believe a sort of redemption— that he is not reduced to what was required of him.

A weapon. Unyielding. Unrelenting.

You turn to pack your materials back to the medkit— no longer able to stomach the tensed silences. You can't quite remember when it felt as though you've become one. Someone who deals death and someone who restores life. Where you began and where he ended was the most beautiful thread in the fabric of fate. There had only been one night—just one— where he let himself sleep, slumped against you in a rare moment of peace. You remember the way his breathing evened, slow and steady, as if for a few precious hours, the war has loosened his grip on him. And the room is blanketed with a sort of promise, that he'll be here for you as you were for him. And that also meant working through the difficult days where loving simply won't suffice.

It seems that the difficult days are outnumbering the ones where you both were happy. Thinking back at it makes you feel as if those days had been another lifetime ago.

He slumps down the bed, arms folded holding his head. "I've handed the 501st' command to Ahsoka, the mission in Mandalore is dragging on, I need her with me,"

He's always carried more than he should. Always assumed the weight of a galaxy, even when it would break him. Having your back against him made it easier to deliberately slow down your words to an unassuming casualness. "Without Obi-Wan?"

You go to Obi-Wan to fill the gaps of the chasm forming between you and Anakin, the ones only Obi-Wan seems to understand.

You turn to sit down beside him. You didn't need to access the force to feel the shift in the atmosphere.

"I haven't seen him in a while," His eyes were staring ahead— up at the ceiling. "So… how is Obi-Wan?"

There was an unmistakable edge to his words—tinged with bitterness and accusation.

"What?"

He chuckles hollowly. "I figured you'd know by now. You always run to him."

His sarcasm drips with an underlying insecurity. Obi-Wan, a person he looks up to, being more trustworthy than he was. He's trying not to sound accusatory but it's obvious that he's struggling with jealousy.

You open your mouth to say something. To defend your actions. What else could you have resorted to? When anytime you try to bridge that gap between you, he turns away. Your heart lodges in your throat— any attempt to explain just sounded as if you and Obi-Wan had been conspiring to manage him.

He straightens, balancing his weight against his arms, gaze demanding an answer. "Why do you keep going to him?"

"I'm not—"

He stands to his feet, tension rippling through his body like a coiled spring. "Yes you are! Every time you think something's wrong you look for him like I'm in need of fixing."

You clasp your fingers together— begging them to steady. "I'm only worried about you— you keep coming home changed like…"

"You're disappearing.“ You answered, "How long can you go on like this without breaking?"

There was a beat of silence. He rubs his temples, pacing bad and forth like staying still is the hardest thing he's ever done.

"And so what, you're going to keep patching me up thinking I'll be someone else?" "No," "—Then stop pretending that I am."

“I keep losing everyone, I can't lose you too." You utter as the guilt verbalizes.

His expression softens recognizing the vulnerability of your words. Something in him falters— just for a moment, a breath—and the weight of his exhaustion settles to his shoulders. He kneels down in front of you.

"You're not losing me," He says, quiter this time, as if he's convincing himself as much as you.

"It feels like it…"

He clasps his fingers over your hands, unraveling them. He opens his mouth to say something back—but then he stops. His head dips, the fight draining out of him. In the quietness, you could hear him pace his breaths with yours.

"You're not going to go through this alone anymore," He shifts closer, his bare chest leaving imprints on the skin of your knees. "Ahsoka will be on Mandalore while Obi-Wan takes Utapau, I'll stay here."

Your fingers slip through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead, tracing the uneven skin lining his face. He leans into your touch, and for a little while, the storm settles, just enough to let you both breathe.

He'll always be someone else's arsenal. He is yours. In a way that you wear his touch as a shield, his promises as hope from all the battles left to fight. He plants soft kisses on the palm of your hand, and a light ignites. Something eternal. Something that tells you that there are things worth holding on to—even when it hurts. You're not going to find the resolution tonight. But this was the beginning. That would have to be enough.

"I'm staying," He says as he presses his lips to your palm again, as if sealing the promise neither of you fully understands yet.

You nod, a smallest curve at the corner of your lips, for a fleeting moment, you feel him smile too.

It feels as though love will suffice. You knew he'd weave the fabrics of fate until it only spells your name. That he will tire, and it will not be easy.

"You know for someone who's fine, you're really bad at hiding pain."

Anakin's lips curved to a faint tired smirk— barely there, but real enough to make your heart lighten. He snakes his long fingers against your waist, pulling you closer until his warmth anchors you.

"Guess you must be rubbing off on me." He murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion, but there's a softness in it—like something broken finding a way to heal.

For a moment the weight lifts. It's not gone, not really, but the edges have dulled enough that you can hold him and not wince at the contact of him being pressed against you. Neither of you speaks again, nor moves again. In the dim of night, with senses dulled, the ordinary becomes profound. And— all of the terror slips away, for now. He no longer is someone that breeds horror. He is love. Made solely to be felt by you.