#your star wars thoughts are the best star wars thoughts

[taliesin-the-bored]

Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel (Thank you for tagging me!)

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

[brunettemarionette]

𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

↠ female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size.

a/n: pictures made by me, spoilers I guess if you haven't watched Deadpool? No warnings just fluff and dumbassery.

Some time after Deadpool & Wolverine, they get back together, and you're a total surprise for them despite the two wanting a baby before Vanessa died.

"So... are we having a Sonny or a Cher?"

Not being called either of those names and definitely not being called anything 'strippery'... or Wade Jr, Wada, Darth Wader and definitely not Todd, either.

No matter how much Wade worried about being like his dad, all that went out the window when you were actually born.

"I've only had a daughter for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I'd kill everyone in this room and then myself... come back to life fuck shit up and die again. Rinse and repeat."

Wade leaving you with Blind Al as a babysitter (sometimes she wouldn't even realize you're there).

"Wade, you can't just leave the baby with a blind person." *Surprise Pikachu Deadpool * "...ableist..."

I feel like Wade, at some point, either dropped you or you fell when you were a kid, but it's for the best since that's how he and Vanessa found out that you're a chip off the ole' block when you heal super fast.

Despite what Vanessa thought when they first agreed to make a baby, they did, in fact, make a 'super baby.'

Always following your 'Uncle' Logan around no matter how much he tries to get rid of you.

"'Babypool' go-... play or something, okay kid?"

Growing up surrounded by mutants means you never think you're different or a freak but instead becoming very protective of your mom. After a talk with your dad about your mom dying, you realize just how fragile people are.

Surprisingly, Wade makes a great girl dad. He does the tea party thing and, of his own accord, puts on the dress and clip earrings; he serves tea to the plush bears and scoffs when others mock him.

"Clearly, you people have no class."

As you got older, you started to look more like your mom, but no matter what situation you found yourself in, you could stop the snark, so much so that it earned you the nickname 'Mini mouth' – Wade was so proud.

Wade took you to the roof of the building to 'bond,' which Vanessa knew was him teaching you how to fight – something she was okay with until you both fell off the roof... more than once.

Them both knowing that despite wanting to give you a normal childhood and life you were going to be some kind or 'hero/antihero'. So they roll with the punches, and Wade makes sure you know exactly what you need to know about it.

"No, spermpool, red is my color. Just ask your mom when we-"

"Ew, Dad... and don't call me that."

On that note, investing in headphones was something you picked up the older you got, asking the store which ones cancel noise the best and then buying earbuds to go with them.

"Minipool, Girlpool, not-as-good-deadpool, Wishpool... ow... okay! We'll think of a better name for you!"

Despite you and your dad both being mercs who have been killed or hurt in every which way, your mom still rules the house. That's how you two find your katanas confiscated when you started playing 'Star Wars' during Thanksgiving.

Your dad makes a lot of Batman and Robin jokes when you're working together, only after he made a weird Batman and Catwoman joke until he realized why that was gross. So you became his Robin.

For someone so laid back about love and sex, Wade is very protective when it comes to you. Seeing the bad guys flirt with you, his deadpan snark reaches a few levels higher than his norm – it doesn't help when your mom hypes up your catsuit.

"I told you we should have gotten her a costume like what the lady three floors down wears."

“Red, that's a Muumuu.”

Being impulsive is like an inherited trait from both of them, which just makes up a chaotic household, and yet you all love every minute of it.

"One of the best things my dad ever gave me, not by choice, are these two gold-plated 50 caliber desert eagle pistoleros...."

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀

The Nights by Avicii

GDFR by Flo Rida

X gon' give it to ya by DMX

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Chaotic parents x Inherited Chaos (you)

Matching Family Energy

Dumbasses (wade, you) x Oh, those are my dumbasses (vanessa)

[satureja13]

Why Vlad and Ji Ho wear the same sleeping shirts Extended Version - Part 3 Part 1 is -> here, Part 2 is -> here

Jack: "We tried the shirts on. They fit perfectly, but... Sai blamed himself: 'Omg Jack, when something is this cheap, there's always a rub! Oh, why didn't I check back? It's my fault! Vlad will kill us. He's never going to wear such cheesy stuff!' " (Editor's note: Back then it was really problematic with Vlad. He only wore one kind of each piece of clothing and had several of the same pants, shirts, you name it. And everything plain black. Even after two years, he was still mourning the death of his first love, Wesley.) Jack: "But my hyper brain was already a few steps ahead. I had a plan. Sai wasn't convinced it would work, but he played along. Because anything was better than getting killed by Vlad...

And a few hours later, I went to his room - with his new shirt... He was standing in his bathroom, bare-chested and said: 'Oh, if I only had a shirt to wear!' Vlad huffed: "That's certainly not what I'd said. Rather something that I'd kill the one who didn't do the laundry..." Jack: "I did do the laundry! It just went wrong..." Vlad: "What I didn't know that because no one told me and you'd chosen to lie to your best friend - for years!" Jack: "Can I go on now? You can thank me later." Vlad: "I doubt that, but go on already."

Jack: "So I showed Vlad my new shirt: 'Look what I've got! The limited edition Han & Leia shirt!' Vlad: 'I don't know. Doesn't like Star Wars at all. Is it legit?' Jack: 'Sure it is. It's featured on the official website and it's the original label inside!' Because I'd urged Sai into creating a fake site and tore the labels out of my other Star Wars shirts to sew them into the fake ones ö.ö' ... " Vlad felt like he fell into the abyss: "You did - what? Why would you even do that? Just to make me wear a stupid shirt?" Jack: "You will thank me later?" Vlad doesn't even know what to say anymore: "Ach!"

Jack: "I told Vlad I got these shirts for all of us because they are kind of insider Star Wars shirts. And that I even got Sai to wear it because there was nothing screaming 'Star Wars' on it..."

"No one would see us in them anyway and it was kind of showing our love and support for each other after everything we'd been through. And so Vlad eventually agreed to wear it!"

Jack: "And whenever we saw each other wearing those shirts, we'd say 'I love you' and the other repeated 'I know'."

Jeb: "Aouwww! That's sweet." Jack: "Right? *Jack ogled Vlad* One can't be mad at me for bringing us closer together, right?"

Jack: "A few days later, I went over to Ji Ho. We hadn't had the best start together so I gave him the shirt to make it up to him. And told him what we'd say to each other when we met wearing those shirts. To make him feel welcome and a part of us, you know?"

Jack, with a side look at Vlad: "Ji Ho didn't ask nosy questions, like some other people I know. He just put the shirt on and seemed genuinely happy." Ji Ho smiled shyly: "I'm still." Vlad: "I can't believe you even dragged Ji Ho into this madness!" Jack: "You will thank..." Vlad didn't let him finish his sentence: "I warn you!"

Jack just continued with the story: "Ji Ho was very shy back then and he didn't talk much. He went through a lot, like all of us. So I thought we'd practice. I showed him the scenes on youtube and told him about Star Wars."

Jack: "It took me a while to lure him out of his shell, but eventually he got it. Jack: 'Ok, once again for good measure: I love you.' Ji Ho: 'I - I know?' Jack: 'That's how we do it!' "

Jack: "I was glad we'd been able to finally put our first gone-terribly-wrong encounters aside. *Jack shot Vlad a glance* So this shirt already showed it was worth all the troubles."

Jack: "We all know that Ji Ho had been very afraid of Vlad in the beginning and Vlad avoided Ji Ho due to that curse. One evening, Sai, Vlad and me just hung out together in my room, it was late and Vlad was about to leave. We all said our I-love-you's and I-know's and when Vlad opened the door he just spotted the shirt on Ji Ho and he automatically said 'I love you' to Ji Ho."

Jack: "Ji Ho was so startled, he said nothing at first, even though we practised. But eventually he whispered 'I know'."

Jack: "And this is why Ji Ho and Vlad wear the same sleeping shirts for years now!" Vlad: "RUN, Jack!"

And Jack ran.

Skully: "But why do only Ji Ho and Vlad still wear them?" Saiwa: "You must know that Jack and I shipped Vlad and Ji Ho from the very beginning. Vlad had been suffering for two years. Mourning Wesley's death and trying to get over with what happened at the Castle. Finally he showed interest in someone else. So we thought these shirts should be a them-thing ^^' And it became. Vlad continued to wear it even though Jack and I didn't after a while. And Ji Ho too. He didn't even like Star Wars ^^'. Somehow this shirt connected them through all those months when all hope seemed lost they could ever be together one day. *Sai looked after Jack and Vlad and sighed* COME BACK NOW, YOU IDIOTS! THAT MURDEROUS CREATURE IS STILL OUT THERE!" And, as if on command, the creature screeched and rustled in the ventilation shafts again ö.ö' And Vlad and Jack ran back to the bridge...

Jack's story inspired Skully to sing:

'… I wonder how we can survive This romance But in the end if I'm with you I'll take the chance

… Oh, can't you see it, baby? You've got me going crazy

… Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you Waiting for you'

Right here waiting - Richard Marx

Good choice, Skully! Fits so well for the both of them <3

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[bytebun]

my piece for @thecodywanzine! thanks to the mods who let me go completely ham and cheese on this bad boy. this one's about living longer than you ever expected and not knowing what to do with it

[timetodiverge]

Consider: a Bad Batch Christmas Special, but it's just Omega saying the boys' names in her kiwi accent for an hour

(HunTAH, Wreekah, Eekoh, Tiek, Crus-heiyah, Rix)

[daylighteclipsed]

Was wondering what the BD in BD-1 stands for and

Bbuddy droid… he made to be a buddy. Best buddy

[notquiteaghost]

im back in the 'finish writing down one fic idea, close window, reveal four more fic ideas hiding behind it' era of the star wars spinterest. they were not lying those ideas sure are rabbits

one such idea is the aroace codywan fic i have had rattling round in the back of my head for [mumbles] years now and an angle that occurred to me the other day is. HOW do clone troopers know about romance, actually. like i do not think that was in the flash training. obviously "i like this person So Much and i want to be with them All The Time" is not something you need to be taught to experience but. yknow. always the feelings about the clones constructing their own understanding of the world out of. flash training and instinct and comments the trainers made and almost nothing else.

and also how presumably the kaminoans actively did not want the clone troopers learning about dating. and actually did canon ever get into how fraught their conceptualisation of each other as family was. in the sense that soldiers should be invested in their collective survival but they shouldn't be so invested in other individuals that they value those individuals over the army's goals. this is how palpatine got to the control chips isnt it. so he could have his "clones are People the jedi get invested in" cake and eat it too

anyway. my personal aromanticism is less "inherently i Do Not Feel Romantic Attraction" and more "the idea of defining a specific relationship in my life as radically different to all others, other than to mean 'yes this one is Most Important', does not make sense to me. also marriage was invented by capitalism to sell diamonds (< hyperbolic oversimplification for effect)". and that is why aro codywan is Real And True And Correct, because they are a guy whose primary reference for The Cultural Concept Of Romance is what he and his kin cobbled together out of scraps and spite, and a guy with a religion that The Cultural Concept Of Romance is antithetical to

all of which to say. pre-geonosis there is a thriving clone trooper black market of Forbidden Media and a significant chunk of it is romance novels and romance holos. this is how we have "buddy you never even met a girl". and then at some point during the war cody & obi-wan have a relationship defining conversation that is less "We Are Dating" and more "look i don't give a shit about natborn / non-jedi labels, i would follow you anywhere and you cannot stop me"

[holdtightposts]

Ahmed Best reprises his role as Jar Jar Binks and I for one am looking forward to it.

That gutteral “YOOUUUSAAAA.” Perfection itself.

September 13th. Get ready.

If that doesn’t hype you up then something is wrong with you. Like the fact that you’re one of the racist star wars “fan” who couldn’t even review bomb the correct show and instead review bombed the movie, Acolytes, starring Joel Edgerton.

Lol. You dumb motherfuckers.

[thegreatyin]

been thinking about star wars a weird amount today so i must clarify for the new folks in the crowd. i am a fan of it against my will. i inherited it like a familial curse. my mom is really really really into it and i grew up with it and KOTOR was the first game i ever played and i would be nowhere near as into it otherwise. star trek is a far more natural interest of mine than i feel star wars ever will be. still love it to bits though

[howlsmovingmind]

I used to love Superheroes when I was a kid. I loved Spiderman, the X-men, the Hulk, Captain America, Superman, and even Iron Man. I loved the cartoons and the movies. I loved what they stood for. I even loved stuff like Transformers (mostly because I had a massive crush on Megan Fox when I was like 5) and Star Wars.

Being such an imaginative child, I loved to dress up and play pretend as these characters. My brother had an Iron Man toy that I played with endlessly. I used to try to climb up walls or swing by ropes so that I could be like Peter Parker. I had Luke’s lightsaber when I was maybe 4 or 5 and I would practice with it all the time.

I believed in these characters. I loved how they chose to do what was right and did their best to help others. They were smart, courageous, and able.

As I got older though, my love of these superheroes dwindled. I thought they were harsh, destructive, and crass. A money grab that reenforced military propaganda and toxic gender roles for both sexes. Men and women in tight suits, inadequate communication, convoluted plots. And for what? Just to be a show of power? Violence? Exercising one’s own skewed view of justice?

I ended up despising the heroes I grew up loving. I hated their hatred. Their stoic personalities and their inability to truly fix anything. I hated the unnecessary destruction and violence. I hated how powerless they truly were. I hated their imperfection and the way they were so human, no matter how much they tried to be more than what they were.

I especially hated heroes like Batman.

Batman is a playboy billionaire who fights those who are victims. Victims of the system, of abuse, or who are severely mentally ill. The Joker is the only one you can really argue is a true villain, through and through. Simply an agent of chaos who wants the world to burn (if Alfred Pennyworth in the Dark Knight is to be believed).

Bruce Wayne’s parents were killed in front of him at 10 years old. And what he decides to do with all his fame and wealth and trauma is go after criminals with fancy gadgets and beat them within inches of their lives? Put them in a crumbling asylum where they are tortured and abused?

WHAT?

And the thing about Alfred is that he is the poster child for the military. I love Alfred as a concept, but as an actual character with his morals, I’ve learned that I don’t actually like him.

The Batman story and comics advocate for the justice system, not choosing who gets to live and die, trusting your police officers, and rehabilitation for villains and criminals. That sounds incredible! But the way it’s executed does none of that.

And if you take into account that the Joker is most likely to be “The Oscar Wilde Sort”, or pretty damn gay, the worse it gets. Because he’s just trying to create chaos! Corrupt your children! Crime will rule the streets if he is allowed to run wild!

Sound familiar?

Superheroes had disappointed me. The stories that used to inspire me now made me lose faith in how we view the world and how we view the disenfranchised or those who are “othered”. How we view the homeless, poor, sick, disabled, mentally ill, queer, non-white people of the world.

These characters and stories were written decades ago, when that was the narrative they were trying to push. It makes sense why these stories look like this. But we can explore these stories in a different way, and they will still resemble the original material. Telltale Batman did a great job of that. I think it was a great way to explore the darker themes that we see within Batman and make a more realistic version of his story.

The villains were victims of the elite, the government, domestic abuse, mental illness, death, and grief. They explore Bruce Wayne’s parentage and how they would have accumulated their enormous wealth without push back. The corruption of the government and branches of the police and special forces. How hard it is to truly balance justice and bias. It’s the best way to write the Batman story, in my opinion.

It’s the best way to write a superhero story, period.

We are only human, at the end of the day. We aren’t perfect, and neither are these heroes. We can only do so much. So, with what we can do, I think we should be kind.

Just an end of post disclaimer: I am aware that The Batman villains are murderers and are genuinely hurting those around them in the story. They are genuinely dangerous villains. Okay, thank you.

Criminally Other,

Howl

[bibannana]

Tup *watching Fives stick Rex's entire office to the ceiling*: Did you just wake up one day and choose violence?

Fives *standing back to admire his handy work*: No, no, it's a conscious everyday decision.

Echo *who helped but will deny it*: This isn't violence, this is anarchy.

Jesse *making sure nothing will fall off the roof*: No, this is controlled chaos.

Dogma *starting to understand that following the Domino Twins around is a bad idea*: This is a one way ticket to the medbay if he finds us.

Hardcase *stuck to a wall*: Ha! Like he'll know it was us!

Rex *opening the door*:.......

Fives *smug*: He won't know it was us Dogma, the security tapes aren't even recording at the mo- what's with those faces?

Echo *look of dread*: Well-

Fives *hangs his head*: He's right behind me isn't he?

Rex *wishing he had given them to Cody*: He is.

Kix *in the corridor wheezing into his comm*: I'm going to need six stretches at the Captain's office as soon as possible.

Taglist: @sexy-rex @soliloquy-of-nemo @jiabeewrites @staycalmandhugaclone @nekotaetae

[cienie-isengardu]

Star Wars Visions 2

Visions volume 2 is the first in a long time Star Wars content under the Disney mark that honestly kept me excited from the first to the last episode. I love all the unique styles of animation, the music and especially the great number of female characters on which the narrations were focused on. So refreshing experience and the cultural diversity of the presented worlds is both striking and heartwarming. Visions 2 definitely feels better in my opinion than the previous season did - sadly, the all Japanese animated season did not impress me much with exception of The Elder and Duel, which of course does not mean those other stories were bad animations rather that those did not meet my expectations. 

This year however I’m especially pleased with Screecher's Reach (and really, this studio was my must-watch story) and the Spy Dancer but I liked every episode in their own right. The focus on imperial cruelty and crimes but also the patterns on how Force sensitive people must leave family and friends to follow their destiny were especially interesting as each story had its own original way to present those issues. I hope every new season of Visions will bring more of this wonderful creative diversity and rich cultural background.

[tenderizedjestersteak]

LOVE your star wars work immensely your characterization is immaculate and such a joy to read

thank you very much! I had a lot of fun writing the fics I wrote and I hope to have just as much fun writing in the future :]

[sinvulkt]

Angstpril: 19. BREAKING Down - evil au, clipped wings aftermath

TW: Suicidal thoughts

@whumpril - 19. "I'm worried about you."

Everything hurt.

I tossed and turned on the too-comfortable cot, unable to find a resting position that wouldn’t feel like torture to my overwhelmed senses. I was drugged up to oblivion, and yet, everything felt too clear, too much, too empty. 

Everytime I shifted, air brushed sensitive skin, one that should have been protected by layers over layers of thick feathers but wasn’t, and it felt like my wings tips were put on fire. 

The door opened, revealing a bunch of fiery fur. I snarled at the newcomer.

“Leave.”

Pat flinched, but stayed. My feathers fanned in warning, but the sight likely was too pitiful to seem anywhere near threatening, and it made no effect. On the contrary, it pushed the Togorian to step closer, a crease on his forehead.

“Master. I’m worried about you-”

I lunged at the Togorian, all too aware of the absence of pull I felt from the air. Of the absence of movement from my tips. My flap should have been powerful enough to send me flying, and yet, the surface covered by bandages was far too small to find any purchase on the air. It lacked the vital part that should have spread and grabbed, that should have folded and dive. 

They were gone, gone, gone-

I sprawled on the ground, knocking my chin on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Pat whispered. “It was for your own good.”

How I loathed the guilt in his voice.

I gathered back on my shaking feet, and charged again. But I was slow, too slow, and by the time I arrived at the Togorian’s level, he had more than enough time to prepare. I landed in soft fur and strong arms. Trapped.

I wasn’t made to walk. What would I do?

“It’s alright,” Pat brokenly smiled. “Everything will be better soon. I promise.”

No. It wouldn’t.

I opened my mouth to retort, but my tongue stayed of stone.

For once, Pat wasn’t the mute one. Words felt too slow, too little, to explain the neutron star collapsing in my chest.

Cayan had once been mute as well, but he was dead, a forgotten remnant of the past. Everyone was dead. Only twisted shadows that had lost their corporeal light haunted this broken galaxy now.

I snarled again instead.

Nothing was alright.

My hook extended, I scratched at the thick fur and used the momentum to escape his embrace. I retracted to a safer distance, unable to repress a sigh of relief when he didn’t follow me.

When he did try, I scurried further back, hackles raised. My wings hurt from their half- spread state, (from what had been done to them), but I didn’t fight my instinct to fold them down. The ache was a sign there was still something behind me, even if that something wasn’t whole, and right now it felt like that thin thread was all that held my sanity together.

Guilt rang from Pat’s presence at my reaction, and he looped his mind around mine in a makeshift hug. The Force cared not for physical distance. A chill ran down my spine as it touched me. His presence felt slippery and cold. It felt false. 

I jumped back, and rushed to the fresher. I barely had time to lock the door before throwing up. Only yellowish bile escaped my throat.

I hadn’t eaten since-

I bent back over the sink, shaking. 

When my insides finally stopped trying to become my outsides, and my tremors reduced enough I could weakly stand, I looked up. In the mirror, purple feathers covered by white gauze met my gaze. They felt foreign. Too light and too small, with a third of their fluff missing.

They were gone. Why were they gone?

I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sickly face glaring at me from the mirror.

Why did it have to happen?

Someone knocked at the door.

“Master? Are you alright?”

I flinched, then laughed. Alright? How could he ask me that? How could anyone believe the answer would be yes? 

My knuckles turned white from how hard I had clenched them over the sink, and I realized my eyes were crying. One some planets, water was worth more than gold. Perhaps I could go there and become very rich. This seemed funny, too. 

More knocks rumbled from the door. 

The hilarity left as fast as it came, replaced by white hot terror. I tensed, dilapidated wings flattening as much as they could against my back. Pat’s worried presence behind the door felt like sandpaper to my over sensitive senses. 

I couldn’t stay.

I couldn’t stay, but I couldn’t leave. Leaving was what had brought me to this situation in the first place.

It was why they were- they were-

“Master?”

I stumbled back, sliding under the sink when I couldn’t retreat further. My hands clamped around my head, covering my ears until I couldn’t hear the intruder’s voice.

I didn’t want to hear.

I had always been good at hiding in small spaces. It was even easier, now that I was lacking— 

I curled further inward, escaping the thought before it could be born. Would they find me here? If I closed my eyes tightly enough, would I disappear?

I didn’t want to be.

I reached out to the Force. Unlike a few hours ago - had it really been so little time? - it answered my brush, curling under my control, changing shape to my will. It felt strangely obediant, as if it knew it had missed the crutial moment that would have saved me, and was begging for forgiveness. Or perhaps it was simply the Dark purring in contentment from all the suffering that had bloomed that day.

The Force never answered when I truly needed it.

I shifted my hold on it, trying to connect the same way I used to in The Room, back when I was still a weak, pathetic slave.

What had changed, truly?

I called to the various animals populating the planet, tried to drown my sense of self in their warm, unaware mind. Yet instead of welcoming me like they used to, they scattered under my presence. 

I froze, puzzled.

How long had it been since I Force-dreamed into a non-sentient mind?

…

I couldn’t remember.

Aheka and Pat’s voices rising up from outside the door broke my trance. They called, but I didn’t answer, still half-sunk into the Dark’s currents.

It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Not anymore.

My breath turned even as I fell deeper and deeper into the Force. When they first discovered deep meditations, Initiates would often find the Force frighteningly bottomless. I had as well, once, when the word “hope” still held a meaning other than pain and deception. I had felt like drowning in the wide emptiness that had opened before me, and refused to meditate for weeks after the event.

I had learnt better during my years as a slave, although I was always cautious to keep an anchor during my Force explorations. I still burned with desire to live, then. Furthermore, it wouldn’t have been good for the slavers to come back, and find me in a deep trance. Back then, there was many threats my ’keepers’ could hang over my head. Now… Now it didn’t matter.

I sank, anchorless, into the infinite expense. 

Unlike my memories, the Force was dark, cold and empty. It chilled my remaining feathers to their roots, iced my bones to their core, shocked my breath away from my lungs. It was the price every DarkSider paid for the power they wield, and even today, I still considered it worth it. I melted into the void, far away from mortal sense and inescapable realities. I couldn’t die, not with Aheka on the lookout like she was, but… There were many ways for talented escapists to be gone.

From time to time, foreign minds brushed my own. Dark creatures, born into the wrong side, that grew curious about the daring stranger adventuring so far deep, so close to them. I ignored most, unwilling to be thrown off my blissful stasis if our presence came to clash. Habit soon took over however, and soon, I was a tuk'ata, running freely in a dark forest while acid rain fell from the sky. The next instant I was a strill tracking my prey, then I traveled slightly sideway and became a fyrnock. I almost became a reptavian, but the air barely brushed my/their wings that I flinched away, almost thrown off my trance.

I musn’t fly.

I couldn’t.

I sank deeper and deeper, throwing any anchor to the hungry mouth of the Dark, not caring about ever going back.

After all, I had no reason to: My body had lost its use. It was worthless, flightless.

Was it even still alive? How long had I spent here, wandering in the Dark?

I couldn’t tell.

I didn’t care.

Compared to the vessel I gave up on, the tuk'ata’s body was much more enjoyable. It was healthy and powerful, its heart racing as we dodged roots and giant leaves daring to block our path. We let our tongue hang from our mouth to cool down, our muzzle proudly raised to hum the air. There was a jungle worrt nearby, and it didn’t know it yet, but it would soon become our dinner. The acidic air teased our taste buds, and the humid breeze felt good on our coat. Our paws beat the soft ground into compliance with ease, each jump larger and faster than the previous one. In this form, we were strong. We were free.

A leash curled around my neck and yanked me back.

I whimpered, disoriented, still half-phased with the tuk'ata’s sense, before a blue Togruta’s face came into focus.

Immediately, I shut my eyelids close and tried to rush back into the safe folds of the Dark. I bounced back on an invisible wall. I mentally paced it, to find no break, no default. A cradle perfectly circled my mind. A mental charge did nothing to affect it. I resisted the temptation to growl and whine at it.

I yearned to sink back into the tuk'ata’s simple mind. The cradle kept me to a surface level of access to the Force, however, ensuring that I couldn’t travel back to it. Ensuring I couldn’t leave. I recognised Aheka’s twisted Force signature in it. She was powerful, and it was likely I wouldn’t be able to break the layer of protection she wove around my mind. The soft callused hand caressing my cheek as Aheka called me back assured me of it.

I smiled, knowing they were too late anyway.

By now, most of the drugs had left my system, evacuated by my hard-at-work organs. And yet, when I opened back my eyes to face my former Master, the scene felt fuzzy, far away. It felt disconnected, as if I was seeing the confused room through dark lenses, hearing the worried words directed at me with dampeners. It was like a blinking screen whose wire had been pulled out, then plugged back in but wrong, and now the connection was off.

Perhaps a good technician would have been able to fix it, but all the good technicians were dead. For an instant, I was very glad to have ensured that. Then the thought sank back underwater, disappearing into the black hole of my past turmoil. My sense of time must have joined it as well, for everything seemed to move strangely fast. Aheka had left my side already, leaving to do who knows what, and Pat was now the one trying to get answers from me. I felt numb, uncaring in a way that made me blissfully floaty.

They tore me away from the Force, but little did they know…

They never fully brought me back.

I didn’t want to be.

So I stopped.

[moinsbienquekaworu]

COMING TO FRANCE TO KICK YOUR ASS

Come on Alex! Anakin made the Worst choice ever just because his feelings hurt (because of his own precedent bad choices he knew were wrong when he made them but did it anyway) and then spent almost two decades stewing in his own misery when he knew what the right thing was and he easily could have done it! He's wet he's pathetic he's killed thousands of people including a bunch of children who trusted him and his entire "family" and also his wife he's extremely miserable and it's all his fault! Pathetic wet meow meow!!

[artemisdesari-blog]

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.