#( // just a snippet of my horrid writing )

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek I?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Ace Trappola, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: So, as mentioned in previous posts, this is only a snippet of what is to come in a project I’m working on. I just wanted to do something for my followers since we have surpassed the milestone that is 4,000 hearts, which is huge. So thank you! Unfortunately, I don’t really have time for a special like I’ve done before where I accept requests since I’ve been so busy with irl stuff and the current twst quiz project. So here’s a small bit of what you can hopefully expect. Remember, I may or may not change things, so what you see now may not be the same later in the final result. That being said, I’m sorry I couldn’t provide much else besides peeks at three of the seven results. I still have a LOT more to write. Like, a ton. But I hope you all look forward of what is to come. Added: Deleted the Scarabia and Pomefiore part to create their own sneak-peeks later.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

First there will be questions you must answer. Questions that I will not reveal in this sneak-peek, but based on the answers you give to those questions, you will receive a result with a story. This post is a peek at some of those stories/results. Important things to keep in mind that you learn from the questions: 

The mc is deemed a criminal in their society.

All criminals in this society are banished, no matter how insignificant or significant the crime may be. 

This particular society makes a show of banishment, to make others fear this fate. Which mc recalls seeing trials on tv about past criminals. 

All criminals are never seen or heard from again. No one knows for certain what happens to them, but most assume death. 

Although the most popular fantastical theory is that criminals become henchmen for infamous evil-doers, and receive punishment there that may range from anywhere like a violent painful death to spending eternity in some tiny horrid prison. 

THE RED QUEEN

Robes. You were wearing robes of the finest quality that weighed heavily on your shoulders. This surface you laid on felt... nice. Soft, nothing like the hard bench of the prison cell. As you sat up and recalled your current dire situation, you felt a sense of dread loom overhead like a thick blanket of gray clouds. Immediately, fearfully, you scanned your surroundings. Everything was painted red, there was so much red velvet. The floors were polished checkered black and white and the furniture, if not completely red, was crafted of finely carved wood. It was fancy here. Safe, for now. Wherever this place was.

There was something hefty on your head, only noticing its weight settling on your skull as you moved to stand up from the crimson red sheets on the king-sized mattress. As you removed the item from your head, you were perplexed to see a small golden crown and a heart-shaped staff beside the spot you had laid on. Wait just a moment... red everywhere? A fancy setting? A crown and a heart-shaped staff? Rapidly you dashed over to the mirror just beside the bed, gasping at your appearance.

You were dressed just like royalty. And not just any royalty, like a king. A king of red with a heart-shaped staff... Just like the meek king that was married to the ruthless Queen of Hearts from the fairytales. So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... you were the king. How did the story go again?

The Red Queen, or Queen of Hearts, ruled over Wonderland with an iron fist. She would behead anyone who got in her way, and her reign terrorized the residents of the realm. That is, until Alice fell down a hole and arrived in Wonderland. She would eventually free this land from the oppressive rein of the queen. As for the king... what happened to him again? He didn't really appear in the story. You wracked your memory for an answer, when the horrid realization came to you. The Red Queen had been so terribly jealous and suspected that her husband was cheating, that she had him beaded! His head left to rot as it floated in a river of blood, surrounded by the heads of other victims, and the king's lifeless skull still with the crown. He had died before Alice even arrived in Wonderland!

You clutched your neck, grimacing at the thought of your own detached head, crown still attached, doomed to sail in a moat of blood. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. There had to be a way to prevent your death, or at least stall for time, but how? The king couldn't just up and run away! People would take notice immediately, someone would inform the queen, and you'd be a goner for sure! But then what? You couldn't kill her either, could you...? It certainly was an idea. You would be doing a favor for the rest of Wonderland too...

THUMP!

Abruptly the doors flew open, nearly causing you to shriek. But you managed to hold your tongue as you quickly placed your crown back on and clutched your staff. When your eyes focused on the door, you were surprised and almost relieved to see the figure of a short young man that had slammed the doors open. He was... rather adorable, actually. It caused you to tilt your head, endeared by his appearance.

The young man had hair that shamed the red roses, and wide gray eyes. As soon as his eyes landed on you, however, his face grew flush and his expression twisted into one of rage. Immediately he slammed the doors shut behind him, stomping up to you, his heels violently clicking against the tiled floors. When the short young man was in your face, another horrible realization dawned on you. With that crown on his head and his wondrous red garbs, this could only be the queen. Or at least, someone meant to be the red queen.

“You knave! Where have you been lurking?!”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? What was the king even doing before you got here? Most importantly, how would you avoid the queen’s wrath?

At your lack of a response, he only seemed to grow more frustrated as he threw wild accusations, “You–– You’ve been sneaking about, seducing the men of my court, haven’t you?! I shall have your head––!”

“Wha–– N-No, I haven’t!” You blurted out. The king was originally beheaded because the queen was jealous and thought she would lose him to others. So if you could assure him that your heart belonged to him, well… survival just might be possible. Although acting wasn’t necessarily your strong point, you could only try for the sake of living another day. Nervously you smiled, throwing aside your staff as you lifted your hands to gently hold his fist he had been angrily waving near your face. Thank god he didn’t have a knife or anything of the sort, or you feared he may have tried to stab you out of raging envy. “How could I ever dare to throw my loyalty to you away…? You are amazing…! I apologize sincerely if I haven’t been able to express my love for you properly. S-Sometimes it feels like you’re really too much for my heart to handle, you in all your… glory…!” Oh god, this was going terribly. All you could do to give the messy act a bow to top it off, was lean your head down and hesitantly kiss the back of his hand.

Miraculously, that seemed to work. Almost. The queen’s face was no longer as flushed, but he gazed down at you as you lingered at his hand. Suspicion was still evident in his eyes. “How do I know?”

“H-Huh…?”

“How do I know you aren’t lying? How do I know you won’t leave me as well? How do I know that you still love me? Prove it to me.” Those gray eyes of his watched you carefully, seemingly unhappy with your lack of a response. After about five seconds of no answer, his face scrunched up and he bellowed, “Guards!! Gua–– mmph!”

Not knowing what else to do, you kissed him. He wanted a sign of devotion, right? Oh god, this was it. Your death was here and now. You had no other way to shut him up. If you covered his mouth with your hands, you were a goner. If you attacked him, you were a goner. If you tried to continue reasoning, you were still a goner! You can’t believe that this was how you died, having to kiss a stranger as your last desperate attempt to live. Well, he wanted a sign. You were ready for him to push you off and armored guards come running in to drag you to the guillotine, when the most unexpected thing happened. He froze, he didn’t fight back or scream bloody murder.

When you slowly pulled away, you were stunned. His face was flush again, but for an entirely different reason other than anger. There was a dazed look on his face, and it almost looked as if he wanted to do it again judging by how he gazed longingly at your lips. It was then you understood that your reckless decision making might’ve just saved your neck.

The red ruler frowned, but you were unsure if it was because he was unsatisfied with something or if it were for another reason entirely. This time, when he opened his mouth, he spoke softly, as if still dazed. “You scoundrel… How dare you play with my heart like this? I should still take your head for that.” You gulped, but he continued. “But… I truly didn’t want to get rid of you. So I’m glad we can avoid that now. I expect to see you well away from the noblemen.”

“Y-Yes… Your Majesty.”

At your obedient response, he smiled and patted your head. “Good.” Taking one step closer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your cheek. He lingered there for a few moments, before taking one step back.

The action left you flustered, embarrassed, because not only had you kissed a stranger but they had kissed you in return. And not only that, this crimson ruler believed you were his partner, the king! Under normal circumstances, you would’ve considered yourself lucky to land in such a position since the king has so much power and wealth. But in this type of situation, you can only shudder to think of what may come next and what would’ve become of you. Because these were no ordinary circumstances, and this was no normal kind ruler.

“Come along now. I don’t want you alone, do you understand?”

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

He beckoned you towards the very doors he entered from, and when he opened them, you were met with another character. It was a tall man with glasses and short messy dark green hair. Immediately he bowed to the queen, but when his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he saw a ghost.

“Change of plans, Trey. We will not be beheading my dear today. Nor tomorrow, I think. They’ve become quite affectionate, so my doubts have been dismissed.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty…” The glass-wearing man, Trey, glanced over at you with disbelief, but he looked a bit relieved, it’s as if he wanted to say something. But he opted to hold his tongue and instead shifted his gaze forward as he walked beside the red-haired royal. “There is still that soldier imprisoned that displeased you.”

“Ah yes, the one that claimed to see those messy blonde locks but failed to capture our lost wanderer. Bring him to me in the throne room.” Just then he glanced at you as you walked a bit behind him, “My dear, you must be there with me. This should be quite the spectacle. I will see you in a moment.”

“A-As you say, Your Majesty…” You replied stiffly.

He frowned and stopped in his tracks before grabbing your collar and bringing your face closer to his. What you half expected was a sharp knife against your throat, something that would kill you, but there was no such thing. There was only his sharp gaze and disappointed tone. “You’re supposed to respond with: my dear. Not Your Majesty, not Rosehearts, but perhaps I’ll allow Riddle for now. Do you understand, dearest?”

So his name was Riddle. Judging by Riddle’s tone, he wasn’t angry, but rather irked that all the sweetness from earlier was now gone. Proceeding, you chose your words carefully as you attempted to smile as convincingly as possible, “Y-Yes, of course, anything you say, Riddle, my darling.”

At your words his cheeks became a pink hue before he let go of you and cleared his throat, quickly turning away and proceeding forward towards the end of the hall where he had whatever duties to fulfill. So you were left with Trey, his subordinate. The calm tall man’s shoulders sagged once the royal left, all the tension seemingly evaporating from his body. When he gave you a somewhat soft smile, your worries ceased for the moment as well. “I’m glad you’re still intact. I was certain you were a goner.” He was… nice? “You need to be more careful. I don’t know what you did to change Riddle’s mind, but he was ready to behead you himself. You know how he keeps that huge battle ax under his bed. He mentioned something about using that, and I thought he was going to use it to chop your head clean off.”

Oh god. That little guy was going to do that? That stupid kiss really did save your skin. “Heh, I’m still a little shaken…” Wait, you were supposed to be acting like the king! What did the king even act like? How were you supposed to know? He never even lived long enough to make it into the story! “I, um, am very appreciative towards your concern… Trey.”  

Trey appeared a bit surprised but he then smiled once more at you. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, we have a situation on our hands.”

What kind of situation? You didn’t even have time to ask when Trey led you down the checkered hall to an opening behind velvet red curtains which were the entrance directly to the large elegant throne room. There, you saw another stranger talking animatedly to the less-than-pleased-looking Rosehearts. This stranger had orange hair that brushed against his lower neck, and he had much more enthusiasm than those you had encountered thus far.

“Dear, there you are.” Instantly Riddle visibly brightened up as he gestured to the soft smaller heart-shaped throne beside his much larger grand seat. “Come, sit, we’re currently discussing the important matters at hand. Such as the dilemma with our prisoner. Cater, continue.”

When this Cater, fellow’s, green eyes trailed over to you, they became filled with surprise as he fumbled over his words, “Huh–– O-Oh! Right!” Forcing his gaze back on the red-haired royal, he began explaining, “There’s nothing really new to talk about, Your Majesty! I mean, seriously, this rookie was just the unlucky one that happened to see that blondie Ellis. According to him when I went to question him, he just said that he saw the guy in blue and when he went to confront him, Ellis escaped with some purple beastman!”

“Purple beastman…?” For a mere moment he appeared perplexed, when quickly the dots began to connect in his mind as he gasped, “Chen’ya! Why, the nerve of that––!”

When you saw his face begin to heat up again and a look of anger crossed his face, you slowly placed your hand over his arm that rested on the armrest of the throne. Then, he froze, everyone else, Trey, Cater, the few servants, the many armored guards in the room, they all were wide-eyed at what you had done. You had touched the queen when they were about to enter a fit of rage! You messed up–– Shit––

Riddle released a slow breath before placing his other hand atop your own. You felt such a massive flood of relief knowing you made the right move when he appeared much calmer as he nodded his head toward you, “Thank you, my dear. We shall discuss a proper punishment for that wretched feline later. For now…” Instantly his voice did a one-eighty as he turned his head toward the two imposing doors and shouted, “Bring him!!”

Nervously you looked over at Trey who stood tall and upright by Riddle’s side, and he remained oddly focused on the door. And that orange-haired guy, Cater, where did he go…?

“Hey…!”

Your eyes flittered over to you right where Cater was bent over a bit to whisper in your ear, while everyone else was distracted by the prisoner being escorted inside.

“I’m so happy that you’ve alive…! Don’t go dying on me so quickly, ‘kay? You wouldn’t leave me all alone here, would you?”

“Uh… no, of course not.” Huh. This Cater guy seemed pretty close to the king, or now you actually.

When you averted your eyes to the front, you listened to the clacking of armor as you watched more soldiers bring forward one of their own. Yet unlike all the others masked by metal, this soldier in shackles didn’t have a helmet. His messy red hair stuck out every which way, which made you wonder how on earth he even managed to fit that mess of hair under a helmet at all. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he wore a stiff frown as his shackles rattled with every step he took until he was right before the steps leading up to the red royal. When he refused to kneel, he was pushed down to his knees as Riddle eyed him with disdain.

Riddle wasted no time, because as soon as this prisoner was on his knees, he began his tirade of questions. “Ace Trappola, was it? We know you saw Ellis. Do you know where he is?”

The soldier’s head lolled forward a bit, his warm-colored eyes stopping on you for a moment as you gazed back at him. In a way, this Ace reminded you of… well, you. In shackles, forced to kneel, in front of a higher authority that was obviously not particularly fond of you, and likely with a sentence that could only mean your doom ahead of you. In a way, you did feel for him after hearing the basis of why he was arrested.

All was silent, only his shackles could be heard again as he slowly shrugged and snapped back, “I’d like to know that too! I mean, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s free as a bird. Meanwhile, me? Locked up for trying to do my job––!”

“Failing to do your only job.” Riddle corrected with a scoff. “I will ask you one more time. Where. Is. Ellis?”

Ace, still annoyed, continued. He must’ve been either stupid or brave for continuing. Although it might’ve been both as he mocked him. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I. Don’t. Know.”

Under your hand you felt Riddle’s fingers dig into the armrest, his knuckles growing white as he raised his voice an octave, “What if I take off your head? Will you know then?”

“If you took my head, you wouldn’t get any answers after that.” He retorted with a slight eye roll.

Underneath your hand you could feel Roseheart’s anger growing the tighter he dug his nails into the chair. When you saw his face, you and everyone else could tell that he was fit to burst, no doubt ready to seal this soldier’s doom. Instantly you shot up from your throne, wanting to help save this prisoner. However, you very quickly began to regret it when all eyes darted over to your form, and you now became the center of attention. You couldn’t just sit back down, so with no other choice, you awkwardly cleared your throat and proceeded nervously, “My dearest, earlier when in our chambers I had an… um… epiphany! A vision! Y-Yes, I had a vision…! Ellis will slay your–– our, pet dragon jabberwocky.”

Instantly Riddle’s eyes widened. “He killed our jabberwocky?!”

“No…! No, at least not yet!”

Technically you weren’t lying. The story goes that the Red Queen had a powerful dragon, the jabberwocky, which was the main reason why she could keep such a grip on the kingdom with no rebellion ever coming close to dethroning her. At least, that is until Alice comes along and slays the jabberwocky. If you could somehow get rid of Alice, or Ellis in this case, and stay in Riddle Roseheart’s good graces, you would have it made! It was practically certain that the court back home thought you would’ve been beheaded already and your head would float in that river of blood for eternity. Yet here you were, alive, and if things went smoothly, you could live out your life in splendor here. Yes, you’d have to deal with the red royal, but if you could just stay in his good graces at all times, you would have a wonderfully lavish life! At this point you were just speeding things up, Ellis’ intentions of slaying the jabberwocky probably weren’t supposed to be revealed until much later. But, it would make a perfect excuse now.

As all eyes remained on you, you recounted your fake tale, “It all makes sense now…! In… In my vision I saw… A red-haired knight, um, clashing swords with a blonde man in blue and white!” Well, that part was a lie. There never was a red-haired knight in the stories. But this was an opportunity to potentially save Ace as well, and give him a chance to redeem himself in Riddle’s eyes. When you turned to face Ace, he was gazing at you with furrowed eyebrows, but you proceeded anyway as you gave your attention to Riddle now. “Riddle, I think–– I mean, I b-believe that knight is this one here in front of us.”

“Him?” The royal exclaimed in disbelief, looking at the soldier with something akin to disgust. To which the said soldier stuck out his tongue before a stern glare from Trey and Cater made Ace close his mouth. Riddle blinked, quiet for a moment before gazing up at you, his expression softening as he flipped over his hand so it held yours. “Is that what you were doing in our chambers alone? You were studying texts and had a vision, to save me?”

“Y…Yes…?”

His big gray eyes became fixated on you, as his voice became soft when he replied, “I’ve misjudged you, my dear… I believed you were being unfaithful, but you were working hard for me. How wrong I was.” The way he looked at you could only be described as adoringly.

It made you nervous, but you could only awkwardly smile in return. In order to ensure your own life of comfort here, you had to be sure to ruin the plot of the story. This meant that Ellis, the protagonist, could not win no matter what. Although it pained you to do such a thing, knowing that the outcome would most likely mean death by beheading him and his allies, you were more afraid of death than you were of the hero. For this, you would have to make sure the antagonist, Riddle Rosehearts in the role of the Red Queen, obtained a happy ending instead of a bad ending where he himself would be banished after being defeated by Ellis.

Clearing your throat, you hesitantly listed off the sequence of events in the way you recalled them playing out, “In my vision I saw… a blonde boy in blue, a purple feline beastmen, and a hatter, among other allies. Ellis will… will attempt to infiltrate the palace, and gain your favor under a disguise, and steal the ancient sword that can slay our Jabberwocky.” As all eyes and ears remained on you, you hesitated once again, mentally apologizing for what you were about to do. Maybe in the end, you might be able to plead with your supposed spouse to spare them. But deep down, you knew it was unlikely for the ruthless tyrant to even consider the idea. “Your Majesty, my darling, i-if I may make a suggestion…?”

Riddle nodded as he listened attentively, “Go on.”

Thankfully you had moved your hands away from his, and had them folded in your lap so he couldn’t feel the way your fingers trembled with anxiety. “I would like to suggest we allow this knight before us to carry the sword, sheathed and hidden at all times. Let this be his redemption–– um, please, if you allow it, your Majesty.” Said knight gazed up in surprise. “It would be best to keep sir Ace in our sights. So might I ask that he and another capable knight become my guards?” Guards. Smart move, especially if things get hairy later. “I-I’d also like to suggest an increase in your personal escorts too… my dear. So… so you’ll be safe. And, no one else besides those in this room, will know of what we spoke of today––”

“That way, Ellis will come here all on his own, and if he searches for the sword it will not be there.” Riddle finished, to which you nodded. He caught on quickly. “That’s brilliant!” You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the red royal turned to glance at his two subordinates, Trey and Cater, only to gesture to the former prisoner and demand of them, “Unbind him, Trey. How can he wield a sword if his hands are bound?”

Trey slowly stepped forward as Ace was allowed to stand, and he unlocked the shackles around the knight. Ace continued to peer up at you, suddenly flashing a grateful smile. To which you only caught a glimpse of before being distracted by the redhead on the throne.

“Cater!” Cater stood upright immediately and awaited orders from the royal. “Find a suitable knight to escort my partner! I expect only the strongest and most obedient of knights! Am I understood?”

“You got it, Your Majesty! I already have a few in mind.”

“Wonderful. I will be interviewing them myself, as well as hand-picking my own escorts.” Riddle stood from his throne, tossing out more commands and orders to be followed by his remaining subordinate and the guards that had escorted the former prisoner. “You lot, I want an increase on the perimeter and another search crew to hunt down that wretched boy Ellis! Trey, go and fetch the sword. As for you, Ace Trappola,” Turning to face the knight, he warned, “You have one more chance. Should you fail a second time, there will be no do-overs. Your head will roll and your family shall pay the price for your mistakes.”

For a mere moment, disbelief and anger flashed on Ace’s face. Just as he opened his mouth, you spoke up, “T-Thank you, Your Majesty…! You really are so… merciful.” Better to be a pawn in this game than to be dead.

Riddle turned his attention to you before smiling, such a true and proud smile as he declared, “I have you to thank for this, for saving my kingdom and protecting me. Once we have Ellis and his companions captured, we will have a morning execution for him, with front row seats to the show." As his eyes drifted back to the onlookers, he commanded, "All of you shall speak nothing of what transpired in this room.”

A chorus of Yes, Your Majesty echoed in the chamber. The royal nodded, content for now, sending you one last smile before turning on his heels and walking off to elsewhere with Cater in tow. Leaving you alone with Trey and Ace as all other attendants and soldiers exited the throne room to go fulfill their duties.

Just for a moment, you wanted to talk to Ace alone. There was something about Trey, something about the way he watched you so calmly but there was something in those yellow eyes behind those glasses. Something that made it seem like he knew your secret, like he knew you were not really the king. You weren’t sure if it was your paranoia getting to you and your mind was just playing tricks on you, but you wanted to distance yourself as far away from him as possible. As the former prisoner made his way towards you, you cleared your throat and spoke quietly, but loud enough for Trey to hear. “Can–– M-May I have a word with you, sir Ace…? In private.”

“Sure, I’m free now.” He half joked, giving a bit of a grin which didn’t do much to ease your worries.

Trey stood beside the empty throne, watching as you glanced over at him and made a gesture for him to carry on with the assigned duty of retrieving the legendary sword, as dictated by His Majesty. To which he did, after he carefully observed the way you scurried behind velvet curtains with the knight not too far behind.

When you were finally out of sight with Ace, you noticed his raised eyebrow. Noticing this and the way he tapped his foot, you hesitated, unsure where you were even going with this or what you should do now. “You… You look like you have something to say.”

“Why’d you save me?” He demanded, all that cheerfulness from before gone now as things took a serious turn. Looking you up and down, he crossed his arms and continued, “You could’ve had your cute little hubby chop off my head like all the others before me. So, say it. That’s the reason you wanted to talk alone, isn’t it?”

He got you. Were you that obvious? You’d definitely have to work on being more discreet… Looking around twice to make sure no one was listening in, you huddled with him in a corner by the stained glass windows as you whispered hurriedly, in a panic, “O-Okay, whew, you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I’m not really the king, or queen, or whatever role I’m supposed to play here! Well, I guess I am now? Uhhh… h-here! It’s like this: I was put on trial in my homeworld, and as punishment I was banished. When I woke up, I was in Roseheart’s bed and he started talking to me like I was an unfaithful partner! I didn’t understand it, until I realized that it was all exactly like a story I read as a child. My punishment was to become the king that dies by being beheaded by his own wife! I… I got out of that somehow, and now, well…”

Ace was looking at you as if you were crazy, as if you had grown an extra head or something. His arms were crossed and he continued to stare at you. Should you have done that? Could you trust him? Well, he did owe you his life. If things really came down to it, you could have him arrested again and beheaded. Play the victim, call guards, and make up some lie that he attacked you, but you really really didn’t want it to go like that… Finally, after a few seconds, he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle, as if he couldn’t even believe it. “Hold on, let me get this straight: You’re not royalty, but you’re a criminal from another world? Did you hit your head or something?”

You knew it. He wouldn’t believe you after all.

“I mean, they keep saying this Ellis loser came from another world too… So… Maybe your story doesn’t sound too crazy after all.” His scarlet eyes focused on the floor, as if considering something. “You really weren’t lying about knowing the future. And I thought you had gone mad or something! So I’m a hero in the story?”

You could only scratch your arm nervously, a bit regretful for having to crush his sudden burst of excitement. “Ahaha… not exactly? I made that part up…”

Disappointed at the revelation that he wasn’t some badass hero wielding a legendary sword, he scoffed, “Seriously? So why save me then?”

“Look…” You took a deep breath, hiding your fidgeting fingers in your palm as best as you could. “We were both supposed to die. At least my character was mentioned in the story, but you? Y-You weren’t even mentioned at all…! You were just a nameless faceless soldier, someone not even worth mentioning––”

Offended, he snapped back, “Faceless? Rude much!”

You quickly shushed him, internally freaking out at the prospect that you may have been overheard. But when nothing else and no one else stirred, you frowned and muttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really nervous… I guess what I’m trying to get at here is… why don’t we both help each other survive?”

“What?” Shaking his head in disbelief. First this person called him someone not even worth mentioning then they ask for his help? Seriously, what was with them?

“T-Think about it…! I’m the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom…! I know what will happen! Kinda…”

“Well, I do want to live just as badly as you do…” It appeared he was still on the fence. Leaning his weight against the wall, he demanded, “But what do you mean you kinda know what will happen? I thought you, for sure, know.”

“Um…” Twiddling your fingers, you hesitantly explained the dilemma, “I did mention we were both supposed to die… And while that part isn’t a lie and the whole you being the destined one to stop Ellis was a lie, the other thing I didn’t lie about was Ellis gathering with his allies to infiltrate the palace and acquire the sword to kill the Jabberwocky. That will actually happen. S-So, since I told everyone that––”

“Let me guess, you told it early?”

Freezing, you gazed up at him and murmured, “H-How did you…?”

He shrugged, “I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. That means a higher chance of survival, right? Assuming that the blonde is the good guy and our king Rosehearts is the bad guy of the story. And considering all that, now you have no idea how the story will be affected, right?”

“R-Right…” Wait, now it just looked like you were useless! Immediately interjecting, you added, “But I can still make predictions based on what I know, like how things were originally supposed to play out…!”

“And you are still technically a royal…” Ace placed a finger to his chin, probably thinking about possible outcomes, upsides, and downsides if he agreed to work together. Finally, when his gaze flittered back to you and you stood upright, he questioned, “What if things don’t go how we–– you plan?”

You actually considered this briefly. If everything came crumbling down and all plans failed, there was but one last option to avoid any punishment. “Find Ellis and the White Queen… or is it the White King? I-It doesn’t matter…! The point is, the White Royal is very kind and merciful. If I go to them and explain that I am not really the Red King’s consort, then they’ll spare me…! If you come too and bring the sword to slay the Jabberwocky, that will assure them of our good intentions!”

“Isn’t that just running away? I don’t want to do that. And come on, the Whites? Are you for real? I thought us Reds were bad, but those pristine prissy little killjoys are no fun.”

For a second you wanted to strangle him. What kind of idiot would risk certain death by staying here if everything goes south, instead of fleeing to a good place that would grant you sanctuary? “It’s exactly running away, that’s the point…! The point is to stay alive!”

The redhead tilted his head to the side, his disappointed and serious behavior disappearing as he grinned. “What if I became king?”

Now it was your turn to look at him as if he were the insane one. Was this knight actually the mad hatter that had been driven insane by mercury poisoning?

“I do owe you one for saving my neck back there. And I won’t lie, I’ve dreamed about being king one day. And you, you’re actually way more ruthless than you seem at first. I thought you were a scared little wimp that always cowers behind their little hubby husband.” He mocked. Ouch. He thought you were a wimp…? “But turns out, I was so wrong about you. Sounds like you’re willing to do whatever it takes to live another day. Even turn on your own husband!”

He was whisper yelling, and it was starting to make you anxious that someone would overhear. So you whisper yelled back at a lower volume, “S-Stop that…! You know the truth, he’s not really my husband…”

That smirk made you think that he was going to respond in a louder voice, but thankfully he wasn’t that stupid. Just stupid enough to plan to overthrow the bloody Red King and talk about it in his own palace. But maybe you were stupid too, for talking about such delicate matters in the palace halls. Ace took your hands and performed a mock bow. “No running away, you got it? I’ll take that tiny red punk’s crown and become king, then I’ll keep you as a royal beside me, it’s the least I can do after what you did. We’ll both not only survive, but thrive. What do you say, Your Majesty~?”

[im-a-wonderling]

Rescue Me, Part 2 ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

Dedicated to @sassysaxxy for quoting my own writing at me, showering me with compliments, and sending me your screams and other genuine reactions to my snippets. Your enthusiasm as a reader ignites my enthusiasm as a writer. I hope you enjoy this! 💗

Summary: Y/N is succeeding as Obi-Wan Kenobi's padawan, but who knew succeeding brought other kinds of difficulties with it?

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: war

Rescue Me masterlist

I swiped at my forehead, wiping the moisture that had collected there away with my sleeve. Obi-Wan warned me about the thickness of Felucia’s climate, but I hadn’t realized this was how it felt to breathe in equal amounts of water vapor and actual air. I felt as though a mesh swatch had been implanted in the back of my throat, making me work twice as hard to gain half as much oxygen. 

All the Coruscant patricians spending hundreds of credits on expensive moisturizing hair and skin treatments just needed to visit here. 

Obi-Wan’s voice flowed through the comm in my ear. “We need more fire towards the east!” 

“Units C3 and 4, fire three clicks east!” I shouted over my shoulder. The brief telltale clatter of the artillery units calibrating behind me was nearly deafening. 

“Yes, sir!” two clones chorused. I twisted my neck slightly at the sound of it. All Jedi were called ‘sir’, but that didn’t mean I would ever get used to it. 

“How’s the view from up there?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“It’s stunning. Too bad you can’t see it.” His huff made me grin as I raised my binocs to my eyes, looking out at the southernmost front in some hope of catching sight of him. But the only thing I could see were the white flashes of clone armor and the streaking red and blue blaster bolts. “How’s the view from down there?”

“Clanky.”

Droids. 

“How many of them?” 

I heard the telltale sound of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber slicing through metal. “One less now,” he grunted. 

I sighed. “Only a few hundred thousand to go.”

The war continued to gnash its way through the galaxy, and few planets were as devastated as Felucia. Sparsely inhabited, the value of the planet came from nysillin. The Separatists and the Republic had been battling for months over control of the precious healing herb. My master and I had only been here for a few days to resolve the current standoff, but I was ready to leave the moment we were allowed to. 

Directly in front of the mountain I stood on was Master Plo Koon’s battalion, arguably the most important part. If the middle of the field was lost, the battle was lost. To the south was Obi-Wan’s battalion, steadily gaining ground, in no small part because of my master. 

The northern regiment, the smallest group of the three, was currently at a standstill. Commander Cody reported no action and no sightings of the Separatist forces, and so, that battalion was currently out of combat.

My position with the artillery gave me the perfect vantage point, not only of all three fronts, but of the village at my back, one of the only villages the Separatists hadn’t managed to pillage. It would stay that way, if the Republic had anything to say about it. 

My master’s voice crackled in my ear. “There’s more trying to cut through the mountains.”

“Unit B, two clicks to the south!” I relayed to the closest artillery gunman. 

“Yes, sir!” He immediately started punching in calculations for trajectory, and I preemptively clapped my hands over my ears to try and hear Obi-Wan’s next words. 

“When the droids fire up their backup generators-” My master’s voice garbled, becoming unintelligible amidst the horrid clatter from behind me.

“Repeat orders!” I requested, pushing my comm-link further into my ear in the hopes of hearing better. But instead of getting clearer, the words got softer and more garbled before completely cutting out.

“Obi-Wan?” No response. “Obi-Wan, can you hear me?!” No response.

I waved over at the comms technician. “I’ve lost Master Kenobi. Can you restore the connection?”

“Right away, sir.” The clone’s helmet tilted down as he started tapping on his screen. Then, his fingers stopped. “Uh…sir?”

My brow furrowed. “What’s the problem? Is the machine malfunctioning?” 

The helmet shook from side to side. “No, sir, it’s not the machine, it’s something external.”

“What about Master Koon? Can we reach him?”

“No, sir, I can’t locate any signals on any frequency, much less hone in on what they’re saying.”

“No other signals?” I said under my breath. Surveying the ground below me, I searched for any suspicious movement, anything that could resemble a jammer. But the battlefield resembled how it looked before with conflict on the central and southern fronts. Desperate, I panned to the north. My eyes caught sight of the glimmering of the shiny, gray armor of battle droids.

“Oh no.” I quickly adjusted the settings and let out a gasp. 

Four clicks ahead of Commander Cody’s battalion, the Separatist AATs were charging. And because of the foliage, Commander Cody wouldn’t be able to see the tanks until they were already within range.

“Scrag!” I ripped the binocs from my eyes, breathing heavily as I stared out at the valley. 

“What’s going on?” one of the clones asked. 

I didn’t reply, still staring. What was I supposed to do? Communications were down. If Commander Cody’s unit was overcome, the Separatists could easily incapacitate the artillery before storming the village.

It’d be a massacre.

And they didn’t even appear to have a jammer with them.

The group marching on the front were still a few minutes away from firing distance, which meant I had a chance to act. How should I seize it? How could I seize it? I was here, with the artillery, removed from the battlefield. 

“Obi-Wan,” I said weakly into my comm, knowing he wouldn’t hear me. “What do I do?” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm down.

In the darkness, Obi-Wan’s wisdom came back to me.

From the Force were we formed and to the Force will we return, he once told me. Sitting cross-legged, his tone perfumed with his seemingly infinite patience, even as I struggled to master the elusive practice of meditation. The Force is your ally. Let it use you, and it will let you use it.

Sentiments that appeared contradictory, but instead formed a perfectly balanced harmony, like the Force itself.

The beginning and ending of all things.

I took in a deep breath, inhaling the humid air before breathing out, letting the cacophony of worries and what-ifs go.

I am here, I thought. 

And the Force answered.

“Commander Y/L/N?”

My eyes flew open to reveal a nervous looking clone.

“What is going on?”

“Communications are down, and there’s a massive force about to reach the 3rd regiment.”

“What are your orders, sir?”

“Fire two kilometers in front of the 3rd regiment’s line and keep firing!” I gave a strained smile. “You’ve just gotten a promotion, trooper.”

There was no path leading up or down the mountain. The artillery was only set up here after being transported by a slow carrier, and I wouldn’t be able to land that thing down on the field. A target that big would be shot down by the Separatists immediately. 

So I stepped right to the edge of the mountain, looking down below. 

I reached out with the Force, took a few shallow, bracing breaths, and jumped.

One of the clones let out a cheer, but the sound whipped away as I free-fell, gaining speed. The wind whipped past me in a roar, and my eyes watered so badly, I had to shut them.

Blindly, I reached out for the Force and felt its aura surrounding me, imparting soft comfort instead of hard, cold fear. The wind around me slowed. I suddenly felt as though I were floating instead of tumbling. I opened my eyes, and I could see the whole valley. 

A searing warning came, and I immediately tucked in my head, bent my arms and legs, and waited for impact.

My feet touched the ground, and I immediately rolled forward.

I stayed there for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest as I fought against the water vapor to catch my breath. 

Then, I took off running, ripping through the Felucian vegetation as I sprinted towards the northern front. 

No other planet I’d been to had plants which compared to the size of the ones on this one. The cyan pitcher plants, shaped like the bulb of a flower, stretched far above my head while long, wispy red growths bent and curled every which way. The dangling parts of the yellow plants made them seem like they dripped with sticky yellow syrup. The dull light from Felucia’s yellow sun was colored by the translucent nature of the plants, shining all manner of different hues around me. All the plants grew so fast, it was all the Republic forces could do to keep clear paths between battalions. If I hadn’t been on the mountain looking down at the battlefield a moment ago, I might’ve taken a wrong turn. As it was, I knew precisely which paths to take.

My heart raced when the white tents and equipment came into sight. I tore through the camp. “Where’s Commander Cody?” I asked the first clone I found. He wordlessly pointed, and I rushed in the provided direction. 

A helmetless Commander Cody stood above a projected map of the area, the very view I’d just seen from my position. The commander looked up, clearly surprised to see me. “Commander Y/L/N? What are you doing here?”

I skid to a stop. “I saw the Separatists moving on this position, they’ll be here any minute.” My own voice sounded so even, a marvel considering how out of breath I should’ve been. 

Commander Cody cursed. “That’s why the long range comms aren’t working.”

I nodded.

“We have to hold this line while Master Koon and Master Kenobi are informed and push their lines forward.” Cody turned to one of the clones standing beside him. “Take my speeder to inform Masters Koon and Kenobi of the situation!” The clone nodded and ran the direction I’d come. 

“How long until the troops can be deployed?” 

Commander Cody’s face went grim. “There’s only a platoon assigned to the front. The rest are sleeping or eating. The clankers will be here before I can get them ready.”

I started running towards the front. “I’ll buy you that time!” I called over my shoulder.

Subtly reaching out with the Force, I let the life forces of the clones ahead of me guide my path, and it was a good thing I did. 

The only reason I recognized the edge of the battlefield when I reached it was the gradual dwindle in the number of large pitcher plants, allowing for a slightly more unobstructed view ahead. Heart pounding, I dodged the ferns and giant mushrooms, waiting for the thick air to suddenly fill with blaster shots.

SCREECH!

That was my only warning before a shell screamed over my head. My heart dropped, because I knew I hadn’t reached the squad in time. 

“AATs ahead!” the voice of a clone yelled, and all hell broke loose.

The air filled with blaster shots, and I was surrounded by the high pitched whines following their discharge and the heat that followed them. I deflected as many shots as I was able, trying to reach the platoon. I spotted the camouflage helmet of a clone scout trooper and bounded towards it. 

“Where’s this fire coming from?!” one of the clones behind me cried from his defensive position. “We didn’t hear a warning!”

I managed to reach whom I assumed was the squad leader: an ARC trooper I recognized: Driver. “Commander Cody is rallying the troops now!” I shouted over the noises of combat. 

Driver gave a curt nod before crouching out from behind the pitcher plant to fire a few shots at the Separatists and then rolling back to safety.

I glanced around at the other clones I could sense, all valiantly returning fire. Nine clones and a Jedi had no hope of winning against the infantry corp that was bearing down on us, but we just needed to buy time.

Another shell barreled towards us, and I threw my hand out, diverting it into the trees. Sending a glare at the AAT that came so close to destroying the platoon, I deflected every blast I could. “Hold your ground!”

But it couldn’t last forever.

“Dank’s been hit!” one of the other squad members yelled.

Distracted, I looked behind me to see the white-clad body of a clone on the ground, not moving. Turning away to parry another shell, I reached behind me with the Force to feel Dank’s life.

I felt nothing.

And in that nothing, suddenly, everything slowed down.

A shell came hurtling towards me, slowly rotating in the air as it came closer and closer. With a yell, I threw out my hand, sending the shell back in the direction it’d come from. 

The explosion of an AAT made the corner of my mouth twitch up. Take that, I thought with satisfaction. 

“Engage!”

I dared a glance over my shoulder to see scores of clones running out of the foliage, taking cover behind the pitcher plants and returning fire.

Commander Cody joined me behind the pitcher plant I was using for cover. “Took you long enough!” I called over to him. He waved his hand in the air, dismissing my teasing. “Have either of the masters sent back word?” The commander shook his head, and my heart sank. To win this battle, it was imperative that the other two battalions pushed forward. Cody could hold the line, but he wouldn’t be capable of pushing the Separatists back. 

I ducked behind another pitcher plant, gripping my lightsaber in front of me as I panted for breath. “Obi-Wan,” I said quietly. “Where are you? Why aren’t you here?” I shut my eyes, tuning out the commotion around me.

I am here.

The Force rose up, the crackles of energy surrounding me.

Obi-Wan. I need Obi-Wan.

The answer was a grab of my consciousness. The Force dragging it at top speed, not bothering to weave through the trees and fighters. It was an odd sensation, to fly through solid things and feel only the energy that knit them together.

Then, I felt the light.

“Obi-Wan,” I breathed, my own voice sounding far away. “You need to attack.” The light didn’t react, and I knew he hadn’t felt me. Reaching out with my conscience, I prodded the light sharply. “Attack.”

Suddenly, I got ripped away, flying back to the confines of my own body. I opened my eyes, once again hearing the blasters firing.

Had he heard me?

I wasn't sure.

I peeked over the edge of the plant. The hundreds of droids were nearer, and with it, the crowd of AATs. I was about to turn away when an AAT in the middle caught my attention.  Standing with its top half outside the hatch of an AAT, was a droid, tapping onto a large, welded addition to the AAT.

It could’ve been anything, but I knew better. 

Eighty meters away, there it was.

If I were still with the artillery, I could order them to fire on that AAT, but I was in the battle, and my options were limited.

I scanned the field. The fighting was thick, but the foliage was thicker. With Cody holding up the rear, I might be able to sneak past the droids, get to the jammer, incapacitate it, and turn the tide of the battle.

I’d need back-up.

My eyes fell on Driver, and the plan started to form. “Driver!” I called. The ARC trooper turned, and I waved him over. “On me!” Without hesitation, I started on a zig-zag path, darting from cover to cover, never staying still enough to be a target. Driver and two other clones followed me.

It was harrowing, leaping from side-to-side, hoping that no droid would notice us before we got around. Finally, we got to the edge of the battlefield.

“What’s going on, sir?” Driver asked.

I peeked over the tree we hid behind. “We’re going to take out the AAT that's jamming our comms,” I told them breathlessly.

Driver and the other two clones exchanged looks, but none of them raised an objection. They nodded at me, and together, we snuck through the foliage, trying to keep the battlefield within sight, but remain unseen.

Finally, we reached as far as we needed. Maybe fifteen meters into the battlefield, and we’d reach the AAT.

I singled out the AAT with the welded addition. “That’s the one!” I shouted above the clamor on the battlefield. 

“Click,” Driver yelled, “you’re up! We’ll cover you!”

One of the clones nodded, his hand drifting to his belt where a number of dangerous looking items lay. He took off in a zig-zag jog, ducking around droids and staying low to the ground.

I watched him, my anticipation rising.

Click reached out to lay a hand on the AAT when suddenly his body contorted. I caught sight of a blaster mark in the center of his chestplate before he crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

Horror rose up in me, and with it, the distress of the two clones standing with me.

I shook my head. Time to do my job. My eyes shifted to the thermal detonator on Driver’s belt. 

“I need your detonator!” I hissed at Driver. 

Driver’s helmet shifted slightly, and I could feel the sense of duty that tugged at him. “Sir, I should be the one to–”

“Driver, now!”

Grabbing the detonator from his belt, he tossed it at me, and I caught it. Before I could talk myself out of it, I sprinted into the battlefield, the air around me filling with red and blue blaster bolts alike. I didn’t check my surroundings to see if the droids or other AATs had noticed me, trusting the Force to warn me of an impending threat. 

I felt the blaster bolt before I saw it and ducked, the bolt whizzing over my head. I didn’t bother to look in the direction it’d come from, solely focused on my target. 

Finally, I reached the AAT and jumped onto it, throwing open the hatch door. Hitting the activation button, I dropped the detonator into the interior and slammed the hatch closed. 

I slid off the AAT as fast as I could. Dropping beside Click’s body, I hooked my arms underneath his armpits and yanked. 

Another clone appeared beside me. “Sir, we need to lea–”

The detonator blew. 

The vigor of the blast threw me backwards. I landed hard on my back, my head snapping back.

“–and do it now!”

I nearly cried with relief upon hearing my master’s voice through my comm. 

“They’re retreating!” said Commander Cody’s voice in my ear. “Push forward!”

I lifted my head up in time to see droids retreating…right in our direction.

The clone beside me let out a groan, and I caught sight of the bashed side of his helmet. I was on my feet in an instant, slinging his arm over my shoulder and practically dragging him with me. 

Driver ran from the tree, coming to the clone’s other side. 

Together, the three of us reached cover, just in time to hear the shouts of victory and aggression as the clone forces ran forward, chasing the Separatists away. 

Driver and I leaned the clone against the tree. I could sense his pain, which only increased my guilt. This clone had just been trying to get me to safety and ended up injured because of it. I was not going to let him die like the others. I crouched in front of him, reaching out to inspect his helmet. “What’s your name?” I asked softly. The clone didn’t respond; his arms were out to the sides, as if he were trying to balance himself. Resting a firm hand on his shoulder, I asked again. “Soldier, what’s your name?” 

“CT-7563.” Even through the modulator of his helmet, I could hear that he tripped over the numbers. 

My eyes flicked to Driver, who now kneeled beside me. “What’s his other name?”

“We call him Exit,” Driver answered. 

I grabbed both sides of the helmet, preparing to ease it off. “Okay, Exit, I’m going to take off your helmet so I can see your wound better.”

I could feel Exit’s hesitation, but when he raised no objection, I gently tugged on the helmet, pulling it off his head. 

The right side of Exit’s head was already swelling, and there was a nasty gash oozing blood into his buzzed hair. Exit blinked rapidly, and I wished I had a flashlight to check his pupillary response. But I didn’t have a flashlight; I didn’t even have a bandage to stop the bleeding.

I glanced around to see what was available to me, and my eyes fell on a red spotted plant—the very plant responsible for this skirmish. “Here,” I said. I delicately plucked a leaf. “Chew this, it’ll help.” 

Disoriented as he was, I didn’t expect Exit to hold up his hand. “I s-shouldnnn’t.” 

I threw him a stern look. “There’s more than enough to go around. Chew it.” Exit obediently put the plant in his mouth, and Driver knelt down to help him up. “Help him back to the FOB, will you?”

“Yes, Commander Y/N.”

Another clone joined them, and together, they brought their injured brother onto the battlefield, towards the camp. 

I stopped, crouching onto the ground to take a moment. As my adrenaline receded, the muscles of my neck started to ache from the detonator’s kickback. I could only hope for no more explosions in the near future. 

Click’s body still lay where I’d abandoned it, and the sight made my chest feel tight. 

“May the Force be with you,” I murmured under my breath as two clones walked up to their brother, rolling him onto a stretcher so they could carry him off to the field. Had he died on Coruscant, his body would be cremated. But I’d been in this war long enough to know his body was headed for a mass grave, marked only with the helmets that no longer had anyone to claim them.

The only funeral rites these warriors were likely to receive.

A hand patted my shoulder. “You did good,” Commander Cody said. Through the thicket of gruff and stern words, I could make out the undertone of pride. 

I sighed, knowing it was undeserved. “I deserted my post.” I reflexively tightened my grip on my lightsaber. “I was supposed to stay with the artillery.”

“You saw a problem no one else did, and you acted before it was too late.” Commander Cody glanced over at where the Separatists had been minutes ago. “Your leadership prevented the worst case scenario and turned it into a victory.”

I straightened. “We can only hope my master agrees.” 

“Padawan Y/N!”  Master Plo Koon approached. Normally, his presence was a calming one, but at that moment, I was unnerved by the inability to see his eyes.

“Master.” I bowed my head, ignoring the twinge from my neck muscles.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Thank you, master.”

Master Koon and Commander Cody started for the camp, sharing information on the battle as they went.

The sound of humming light filled my head, causing me to look up.

Obi-Wan walked straight towards me, dirt covering his grim face and unignited lightsaber clenched tightly in one hand as he crossed the field with his long, uninterrupted strides. He looked tired, but uninjured. 

I walked to meet him, a soft smile on my face. “In one piece, old man?”

Obi-Wan huffed. “Of course it would be too much to hope the Separatists might’ve goaded you into holding your tongue.”

“Well, they couldn’t goad me into holding onto my thermal detonator.” I grinned.

Obi-Wan shook his head, but he couldn’t hide a small smile. “Come, we must go check on the village while the troops secure the field.” 

Obediently, I fell into step behind him. “How long do you think the Separatists will take to regroup?”

“No way to know,” Obi-Wan answered as we strode through the camp. “They took a hit today, but it’s just another step in the dance.”

I lowered my eyes somberly, the day’s victory coming into perspective. He was right, as always. In fact, I couldn’t think of a single time when Obi-Wan had been wrong about–

“Master Kenobi?” a voice from behind us said.

Commander Cody stood there, his arms folded in an imposing stance. 

“Yes, commander?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Commander Cody jerked his head to the right. “The village is that way.”

I pursed my lips to keep from smiling.

-

“Don’t put any weight on that leg, y’hear?” I said, playfully narrowing my eyes at the Felucian villager as I wrapped bandages around her wound.

She laughed, bending her long neck sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, let’s get you up.” I helped her shift to the end of the rickety cot in the med tent, hoisting her up onto her right leg.

“Thank you,” her husband told me, bowing his head as he reached his arm around his wife, helping her balance. 

“No problem,” I replied, watching the two of them hobble towards the mess tent to join the other villagers that had joined the Republic camp to receive some nourishment. Judging by the tightness around the villager’s eyes, she was still in pain, but her husband watched her with such tenderness, as if he was counting himself lucky to be nothing more than a crutch.

“How’d she get injured?”

I jumped, then relaxed when I recognized the voice as Obi-Wan’s. “She got caught in a Separatist trap and nearly lost her foot. Unfortunately for her, the village still hasn’t found a shaman to replace the last one.” I walked over to the makeshift sanitizer, quickly cleaning my hands. “Honestly, she still might lose the foot if she’s not careful.”

When my statements were met only with silence, I glanced up at my master and caught sight of the calculation on his face. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Nothing. Shall we go eat?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was thinking something, and he was thinking something about me. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He let out a little sigh, his mouth curling into a smile. “Seeing you acting as a healer. It’s…satisfying.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “Well, don’t go getting any ideas about jumping in a Rathtar den, ‘cause I’m not patching you up.” 

Obi-Wan laughed easily. “C’mon, let’s go eat.” 

Perhaps when the clone wars ended, there would be things I missed. I would miss getting to explore new planets and meet new people. I would miss the demands of battle, whether it demanded more energy where there was none or ingenuity in the face of stress.

I would not, however, miss the rations.

I popped another sweet energy cube into my mouth, chewing it and trying not to grimace. 

Opposite me, Obi-Wan was staring at the cube in his palm with great distaste. The delighted cry of a child filled the air, and a stampede of them started to run past in the strange waddling way of Felucians. 

Obi-Wan slyly reached out to them, allowing one of the children to pluck the cube off his palm and into her mouth with a grin. 

I sent him a sideways glance as the children ran out of the mess tent. “You’re going to go hungry.” 

Obi-Wan conspiratorially lowered his voice. “Better an empty stomach than a stomach with that stuff inside it.”

I snorted. “I’ve fought on an empty stomach. Trust me, it’s no good.”

Obi-Wan’s face fell. “Krell?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to, Obi-Wan already knew. Instead of dredging up the past, I looked down at my plate. "Agh," I blurted at the burst of pain that ran up my neck.

Obi-Wan tensed. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no." I rubbed at the sore spot. "Caught the wrong end of an explosion and earned myself some whiplash."

"I think I saw some cream in the med tent." Obi-Wan started to get up, but I grabbed his arm.

"I'm fine."

Obi-Wan didn't ask me if I was sure, he simply fixed me with his classic I-know-better-than-you look.

"It'll clear up on it's own," I insisted. "Save the supplies for the clones and the villagers."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth.

“Are you ready, Master Kenobi?” Master Koon approached our table. “The council is waiting.”

My master threw me a look and then got to his feet. “Yes, Master Koon.”

“Your padawan will have much to tell us,” Master Koon said. 

I shot upright in my seat. “What?” I looked at Obi-Wan, hoping he would provide me with insight, but he was staring at Mast Koon as well, a slightly wary expression on his face. His Force light was flickering with uncertainty.

“What am I telling?” I asked Master Koon.

“We will want to speak of your actions today,” Master Koon replied, seeming absolutely calm. 

My…actions?

An uncomfortable tension settled in my stomach, and the souring of the previously sweet energy cubes made me wish I’d followed my master’s example and refrained from eating. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Master Kenobi.” Master Koon left us, walking towards the erected tent for the council meeting.

Obi-Wan didn’t move for a moment. He kept his eyes on Master Koon’s retreating back, but I could feel the buzzing surrounding us, like the Force was flocking to my master. Whatever he was thinking, the Force was drawn to it. 

Obi-Wan started walking towards the tent, not sparing me another glance as he left me alone in my panic.

If Master Koon thought my actions deserved a place in a council meeting…perhaps my desertion of my post in the battle was a bigger deal than I thought. 

Of course it was. What had I been thinking? I must’ve been possessed by some maverick spirit, urging me to leap into battle without instruction from my superiors. Perhaps the spirit of Skywalker, I thought nervously to myself, except I don’t have the role of the Chosen One to cushion my fall. 

Now I was to defend my actions in front of the council? Not once in all my appearances before the Jedi council had they asked me to speak. Every time, I stood in Krell or Kenobi’s shadow, keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself. 

The longer I waited to be summoned, the greater the buzzing of the light grew. Only Master Koon and Obi-Wan were physically inside the tent. If the Force gathered around any of the other members, I wouldn’t be able to feel it, not this far away from Coruscant. What could the council be discussing that would send Obi-Wan into such a flutter?

After what felt like ages, Obi-Wan poked his head outside of the tent, making eye contact with me. 

I sucked in a breath, slowly rising to my feet.

But then Obi-Wan’s eyes moved to something behind me. “Commander Cody, the council wishes to speak with you.”

Commander Cody appeared as aghast as I felt. “As the council wishes,” he said finally. He got up from his chair, shooting me a look before ducking into the tent. I stared at the tent flap. Why did they want to speak to Cody? Was it simply for a report on the battle? Or were they asking Cody to give a report about me? 

Altogether too soon for my tastes, the tent flapped opened as Commander Cody came out. I searched for something in his face to clue me into what he’d said about me, but his stoic face revealed nothing.

“Y/N.” My master stood, holding the tent flap open. “We’re ready for you.” I stayed where I was, trying to read his face, but the words there were in Shyriiwook. 

“Hells,” I muttered. “Here comes the heavy weather.” After lingering a moment to lift my chin high, I walked inside the tent.

Master Koon stood off to one side while Obi-Wan moved to stand at the other. In between them, life-sized holograms of each member of the Jedi Council was projected. With the glitching and imprecision of the transmissions, it was impossible to tell what expressions they wore. 

“Padawan Y/N,” Master Windu began, “the 3rd Regiment went into conflict under your discretion, correct?”

Aware of Master Windu’s deep distaste for excuses, I erred on the side of brevity. “Yes.”

“And you joined them once the comms went out?”

“Yes.”

“Can you please tell us why?”

“When the comms went out, I surveyed the battlefield with binocs, and I spotted the enemy making a move towards the 3rd Regiment in force. Knowing they weren’t expecting conflict and being unable to communicate with them, I left orders for the artillery to fire upon their position while I got to the line as quickly as I could.”

Master Fisto tilted his head. “Commander Cody informed us you arrived on foot.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet there was still a suspicious silence. “I…looked for a speeder of some sort, but the only ship with the artillery was the command platform, and I wouldn’t be able to land that by the front without it getting shot down.”

“How did you get down off the mountain?” Master Windu asked.

“I jumped.”

The humming of the light dissipated for a moment, and it took everything in me to keep my focus on Master Windu. 

Master Windu cleared his throat. “So once you…jumped…and you reached the northern front, then you took control of the regiment?”

I hesitated. “No.”

“No?” Master Tiin asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Sweat gathered on my palms. “I told Commander Cody of the oncoming fighters, and once a messenger was sent to the other platforms, I went to the front line to buy enough time for the regiment to deploy.” A few of the masters glanced over at each other, and I couldn’t keep quiet. “I didn’t give Commander Cody orders. I informed him of the situation and gave him the time he needed to rally his troops.”

“But you did take three clones with you to bring down the jammer.”

“Yes.”

“And you brought it down how exactly?” 

I swallowed hard. “A thermal detonator.”

“Why didn’t you go to Master Koon or Master Kenobi directly when the comms went out?” Master Mundi asked. 

I hesitated. It felt like a trick question, but it was impossible to know what the masters wanted me to say, so I opted for the truth. “Protecting the village was the most important. That’s why the Republic is here, to defend life. There was very little time, so I trusted my–”

Gut, I very nearly said, but Jedi didn’t make decisions on gut feelings. 

“I trusted my training.”

No one spoke, and a skittish feeling scratched at the walls of my stomach. To stand in front of the most powerful Jedis while none of them spoke? How royally had I screwed up?

“Impressive,” Master Yoda muttered, stroking his chin. “Impressive, very.”

…impressive? 

Did he speak of my disobedience? Were my actions a kind of wrong of epic proportions, it was impressive someone could have behaved so poorly?

My hands started shaking. 

“Padawan Y/N, have you started preparing for your trials?” Master Unduli asked. 

“Yes,” I said hesitantly, unsure of where the question was leading. “I’ve been studying for months.” A strange, shuddering pulse of light shot through the Force like a bolt of lightning, and I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at my master. His stony face offered no insight. 

“I don’t think you’ll be studying for your trials much longer,” Master Unduli said.

Desperation rocked through my core. I knew it, I thought. Abandoning my post would get me kicked out of the Jedi Order.

“The way I see it,” Master Unduli said, looking over at Master Windu beside him, “Padawan Y/N acted as a Jedi Knight in this situation and turned the tide of the battle.” My mouth fell open as murmurs of agreement rippled through the tent. I quickly closed it, hoping none of the masters had noticed it.

“We commend you on your quick thinking and serenity under pressure,” Master Windu said.

Commend? Serenity? I hardly dared to believe it. “Thank you, masters.”

“The jogan doesn’t roll far from the vine, eh, Master Kenobi?” Master Fisto asked, and appreciative chuckles rippled through the room. Not even my years of strength and endurance training kept me from smiling. They were comparing me to Obi-Wan? That was surely one of the highest compliments in the galaxy.

Aching to see the approval on my master’s face, I dared a peek at him.

But instead of a beam of pride, Obi-Wan’s brows were furrowed and his lips downturned. My stomach flipped. Was he displeased with me?

“We’ll be keeping our eyes on you, Padawan Y/N,” Master Mundi said, drawing my attention once more. “As for right now, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, master, thank you, master.” I bowed low and left the tent, leaving Obi-Wan and Master Koon to finish up their business with the council. Once the tent flap closed behind me, I breathed in the heavy air, trying to process what had just happened.

“Well?” Commander Cody asked from his chair, helmet off and eyebrows raised. “What did they say?” 

“They’re pleased with me,” I answered, surprised by my own words. “They commended me.”

Commander Cody rose from his seat to clap me on the shoulder, celebrating with me in his own grisly way: without saying a word. No reassurances or comments.

“I thought they were going to kick me out of the Order,” I confessed. “Or give me some consequence, not…not tell me I did well.” I smiled at Cody. “But they did.”

Cody went back to his chair. “I’m sure your master is very proud.”

I stopped.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem proud. In fact, he hadn’t said a single thing about the battle. If I’d done something right, Obi-Wan would’ve given a quick affirmation before we went to the village. If I’d done something wrong, we would’ve been knee-deep in a lecture instead of spending time with the children. But Obi-Wan hadn’t done either. If I didn’t do anything right and I didn’t do anything wrong…then what had I done?

Was the Jedi council being generous in their commendation? 

No.

The Jedi Council showing kindness to me had never been much of a priority before, so they must’ve meant it. 

Why was it, then, that Master Windu of all people praised me, and Obi-Wan hadn’t even smiled? Was Obi-Wan simply withholding his pride to save it for the right time? Or did he disagree with the other masters? Did Obi-Wan believe that I’d acted rashly and deserved to be scolded for my disobedience?

I felt weirdly jittery, as though my bones were shaking underneath my skin.

“Safe travels, Master Kenobi,” Master Koon said as he and my master came out of the tent behind me. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” Obi-Wan replied. 

With a nod in my direction, Master Koon walked off in the direction of the mess tent, and Obi-wan brushed past me to walk in Commander Cody’s direction.

I caught up to Obi-Wan. “We’re leaving? 

“The council is pulling us out,” he said, not bothering to look over his shoulder at me. “The Separatists have pulled back, and the Felucian Commandos can advance without us here. Master Koon will remain to supervise until this heats up again.”

Dreams of Coruscant filled my mind. The tall buildings, the tempered weather, the crowds. “Are we returning to the temple?” I asked hopefully.

“No, they're assigning us to a diplomatic mission.”

“Diplomatic mission?” I echoed, coming to a stop. I’d never been on one. They were rare these days, and in the days when they’d been common, Master Krell would most certainly not have been the council’s first choice to go, which meant I wouldn’t have been either.

Obi-Wan, the great Negotiator, would be. 

My master and Cody exchanged quick words.

“Y/N, let’s go,” Obi-Wan said, his every word clipped.

There was no point in telling me to gather my stuff; the only things I possessed with the robes on my body and the lightsaber at my belt.

Cody flicked two fingers out from his forehead in a tiny salute. “See you later, kid.”

“Next time you see me,” I said with a smile, “I might be a Jedi Knight.”

“About time,” he said gruffly.

I could’ve hugged him for his words, and I stood for a moment, debating doing so.

“Y/N,” said a firm voice behind me.

Ducking my head, I followed Obi-Wan towards the rudimentary spaceport. His light was casting uncertain shadows through the Force. I tilted my head, honing in on the flickers, but the nearer I got to it, the more light skittered away from me.

How strange that I'd felt him as clear as day across a battlefield, but now I couldn't when I walked beside him.

When we reached the ship, I wordlessly went to the cockpit, preparing to take off. According to the rumors, Obi-Wan was an excellent pilot, but I only saw him occupy the pilot’s chair when we were under fire. If we were simply navigating from one planet to another, he left the piloting to me.

“Where are we going, Master?” I called behind me.

“To Taris, in the Outer Rim.”

Taris.

A planet of overgrown swamps and yellow smog that choked the atmosphere. And if we were headed there for a negotiation, we were headed to the far side, where all the wealthy lived. 

Fantastic.

-

The ship’s engine hummed as it hurtled through lightspeed. 

I settled myself on the floor, ducking my head to catch sight of what I needed in the mirror I’d propped up against the wall. I lifted the pair of scissors in my head, grabbing a section of hair.

“What are you doing?” 

Obi-Wan stared down at me, the grime gone from his face. He must’ve washed it.

“My hair’s too long, so…I’m cutting it.” 

A strange heaviness shot through the Force, as if Obi-Wan’s light had tumbled to the ground with a loud and hollow thunk. Before I could try to reach the light, Obi-Wan turned away from me.

His Force signature was confusing me left and right today. The exorbitant turmoil I felt through the Force seemed disproportionate to the lack of words coming out of his mouth. Usually when I sensed this much distress in him, we dialogued about it.

Perhaps the issue now wasn’t with him, but with me. As the battlefield on Felucia had shown, sometimes the receiver was a problem just as much as the transmitter. 

I shook my head softly, raising the scissors again to make the first cut.

“You’ve been my padawan for less than six months,” Obi-wan said suddenly, nearly making me jump out of my skin. He stood above me again, his lips pursed. 

Why was he mentioning our timeline? “I’m sorry?”

“I didn’t realize,” he said, the words curt, “that you were studying to take the trials.”

“Oh.” I looked away, my scissors hovering uncertainty as I tried to decide whether to go ahead with cutting or put them down. “Well, I’ve been a padawan for years.” Obi-Wan said nothing. I shifted to face him, gripping the scissors in my lap. “I’m twenty-two. Everyone I trained with as a youngling has passed their trials already, and some of them even have padawans of their own now.”

“Right,” came Obi-Wan’s unenthusiastic reply. 

“Do you think I’m not prepared?” I asked worriedly.

“No, no!” he burst out. “I mean, yes, you are, you’re capable, to be sure.” He scratched his chin. “I guess I thought I had more time…” he trailed off, his expression troubled. “More time to…to teach you, to help you…improve.”

“What do I need improvement on?” He didn’t answer, sending my anxiety through the roof. I got to my feet, abandoning the scissors on the floor. Obi-Wan took a step back so as to keep us from colliding. “If there’s something I should be working on, something that would hold me back, I would like to know.”

“There’s…” He paused, his eyes darting all over my face. Why did he seem so…uncertain?

Then it dawned on me, the reason he was reluctant to speak. I crossed my arms, trying to hold the pieces of myself together through the implosion of disappointment. “It’s because of Master Krell, isn’t it? No one wants me to pass the trials because no one trusts me.”

“That’s not true,” Obi-Wan said sharply.

“It’s because of what I did with the regiment, then. I should’ve found some way to contact you first."

“Y/N-”

“Or maybe it’s my combat skills, I know I’m not the best fighter–”

“Y/N!”

I bit my lip, keeping the flood of words from bursting forth. 

With the opposite problem, Obi-Wan didn’t form any words, didn’t move. He just…examined me.

“Why am I not ready?” I asked, slowly and clearly.

“It’s…you’re…I think…” Obi-Wan visibly wrestled with the words coming out of his mouth, seemingly unsure of which sentiment to land on. Finally, he let out a large sigh. “You’ll be a good Jedi Knight.”

I blinked. That was not the answer I was expecting, nor was it a true answer to my question. When Obi-Wan minced words like this, he minced with great care. So what was the hidden meaning, the intent hiding behind his words?

Obi-Wan shuffled towards the cockpit, leaving me alone with the burgeoning company of my thoughts.

He had doubts. He must’ve, for why else would the echoes of his thoughts fall so heavy?

It was strange. Obi-Wan fought for me, fought to overpower my reputation within the Order and establish me as a true Jedi. The council had always been skeptical, and it hadn’t hindered him one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on. 

Now I’d received affirmation from the council, yet Obi-Wan had doubts?

I returned to my reflection, trying to resume my planned activity. But my hands were shaking so much, I couldn’t hold the scissors straight. Every time I worked up the courage to make a cut, the scissors faltered.

-

Part 3

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Rescue Me tag list:

@penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @starlazergazer @blackqueengold @ajwild220 @exploringalaxiesfarfaraway @mortallycrispyglitter @nerdory10 @shinybananapastanickel @sassysaxxy @sunshine-girl013

[anincompletelist]

six sentence sunday! :D

THANK YOU for the tag @iboatedhere !!!! I always love to see what you've got cooking! ;)

this is more than six sentences (no one is surprised) but it is also the LAST SNIPPET FROM BRIDESMAIDS because it will start posting TOMORROW?????????

+

“Now we roll them.” Alex steps up next to him and rolls one the way his abuela taught him, like an instinct at this point, and lets Henry mimic the action. “You’re not half bad at this, Sunshine. It’s a real shame that that poison’s gonna kick in any minute now. I should’ve checked that you were, in fact, horribly fucking awful in the kitchen before I sealed your fate with a bite of mole.” 

“Hush,” Henry rolls his eyes, knocking their elbows together as he continues folding. “If I’ve got poison running through my veins let me at least enjoy my final hours without your godawful jokes to speed up the process.” 

“Nah. It’s no big deal. I know just the way to suck it back out of you.” Alex pats him on the back twice before stepping away to make sure the oven’s still on, smiling so wide at Henry’s horrified expression that he nearly chokes. 

“Terrible,” Henry whispers, handing him the platter to heat for another few minutes. “Just awful. Horrid. Dreadful.” 

Slipping them back onto the rack, Alex cranks the timer to ten minutes and stands, pressing a hand to his heart. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, sweetheart. I think you’re great.” 

Huffing a laugh, Henry glances down at the floor, then back up to his face. “Great, hm?” 

“Yeah,” Alex says. “Really fucking great.”

+

OPEN TAG BUT ALSO --

@firenati0n @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @songliili @rockyroadkylers @littlemisskittentoes @affectionatelyrs @kiwiana-writes @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @wordsofhoneydew @nocoastposts @firstsprinces @sparklepocalypse @ninzied @getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery @matherines @zwiazdziarka @raysletters @cricketnationrise @xthelastknownsurvivorx @gayrootvegetable @lizzie-bennetdarcy @eusuntgratie @whimsymanaged @priincebutt @duchessdepolignaca03 @leojfitz @user-anakin @three-drink-amy @myheartalivewrites @anchoredarchangel @tinyarmedtrex @rmd-writes

HAPPY NEW YEARS Y'ALL! usually I'm spending it on my couch but TONIGHT I'll be spending it on my couch with RWRB and YOU GUYS !!!!!!!

I'll see you guys next year........... ;)

xx

[ladykailitha]

I've been so busy 😫 I can't wait for when I have time to read through all your story updates. I just want to smush my blorbos together 😭

Anyway

WEREWOLF STEVE!!!!!!!!!

(Dustin trying to get Steve to play lmao)

I see more of Lucas trying a basketball move on Steve in wolf form and Steve being very much unimpressed.

WIP Wednesday! Make me write!

First ask here.

Snippet

Nancy pulled out this huge portfolio and it landed on the table with a horrid thud, sending up a cloud of dust.

Eddie waved the air in front of his face, not that it would make him cough or irritate his eyes since becoming a vampire, but it was annoyance nonetheless.

“Don’t they have those things on microfiche?” he asked with a glare. They were there first and she was acting like they were bothering her.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I want to see the originals.”

[donnyclaws]

Ur website so cool!! ❤️❤️ Do you have by any chances coding tips? Been trying to make my own website for a while but adhd won't let me concentrate a second when it comes to learning coding

Thank you! And 100% It is deceptively approachable but also time consuming, I'm familiar enough with html from a highschool class where we did need to write code out by hand, and then soft practice with coding toyhou.se profiles and futzing around with free code snippets. Largely though I don't think you need to know everything or to write everything by hand, you just need to frankenstein code pieces together (As long as they're free ofc).

I used this first, it's fucking insanely handy and lets you make a simple layout with sidebars, navigation, header, footer and a body base ect, and then just generate and copy the code. The html itself also has greyed out little notes about what parts do what!

I'll be real the rest of it after that is just me googling what I want to do or googling html snippets bc I forgot them. So like html image link with size attributes ect ect, how to make a html image gallery. I don't use one site exclusively but w3schools.com has a bunch of common ones and also has a little live code editor in its tutorials.

Like I still get greatly stumped for hours bc code's kinda sensitive and one or two characters out of place will break sections of it especially when ur just frankensteining. Trying out little segments in live code editors is really helpful because you can kinda break it apart and diagnose the issue before putting it into your site html.

Also if it helps this is kind of how I break it down in my brain as another ADHD-er. so fuckign sorry for how this looks im doing it in snipping tool. But code bits love to live in cages even if it all looks the same, iit would also help if you clean your code up mine is pretty horrid but you just want to familiarize yourself with the little "Sections" ig that's where doing things by hand would help because you would 100% know what each chunk is for but yk yk.

CSS is a different beast I barely understand. The parts of code where it starts stacking on top instead of being horizontal is css and it's basically how you do fancier things to your code, it's linked to stuff you already have down. So like changing the background in the body text box or something, you can only do so much in there. Css targetting the body text box is where you can level it up. Again the sadgrl layout builder has notes so you're not completely blind in there. There's also 100% so many resources to explain what all these words mean, my mmethod is incredibly avoidant I don't know what flex is I haven't needed to fight her yet ect ect.

Sorry if this is confusing this is just my hack and slash understanding atm. Be humbled by code I've spent too long trying to fix up hysterical margin issues just because I had a random apostrophe somewhere or because I tried to spell it colour and not color ect.

[yell0wsalt]

❄️☔️🌀

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing. 

Asami dug her fingers through her hair, pulling deep at the root. “Gah! I can’t seem to figure this out! I don’t know what the issue is with me!”

Tempted as she was to kick the easel to the ground, she chose to bring her legs higher up on the foot rests of the stool. Elbows propped on her knees, Asami let out a horrid sigh.

“Think you’re getting too much in your head about this?” Iroh pried.

“Clearly!” she snapped with her head still tucked into her chin.

“Why don’t you take a look from another’s perspective? See what it’s like on the other side of the easel.

That made Asami pull her head up to face him for the first time in a minute. The genuine concern in his features made Asami crack a weak smile. 

“Iroh, are you suggesting I’m my own model?”

“Hmm. I mean narrate and act out what you’re trying to envision. If it would help, I’d be behind the easel this time.”

That made Asami wear a cheek-splitting grin and spring out of her seat so fast it nearly toppled over. “Oh, I gotta see this.”

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

Linzin babysitting Iroh II. He goes in on the city life and through a bit of a mess amongst everyone involved, happens to run into and help a little Asami.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it? 

So, some spoilers for Dawn of Yangchen, but there’s a part towards the end where Yangchen defeats the combustion benders of Project Unanimity. There is one in particular she spares. But how Yangchen in general handled the operation resulted in her being banned from the Northern Air Temple. (Likely the reason why no statues of her are there 👀)

Anyways, I want to think about Yangchen and the combustion bender she spared meeting up later in life, reconciling, and generally learning more about how she’s been since her defeat. Could be some type of redemption and healing from the craziness it takes to become a combustion bender.

OR

LOK characters with a Space Dandy filter. Aka comedic space cowboy adventures

Let's talk about the WIPs

[fxreflyes]

ahhh I just saw you already answered, damn these time zones!! can u please tell me about the fic your most excited to write in that case???

hi bel!!!!! <333333 (i am so sorry for the v late reply, the brain fog today has been v real) the time zones are truly horrid, im so sad to be 8 hrs behind u :'(

i think i have talked abt all of my fics so far, which is making me feel like I need more wips HAHA (I do not need more) so i will talk once more abt the one i currently have my word doc open to!! (i think you already saw a post abt it im sorry!!) (summary ask here) (snippet ask here) but it's called hand in hand with the living dead and it is basically all angst. it is sirius suicide fic & he becomes a ghost & meets remus who is also a ghost!

a snippet for u!!

After a few minutes of fevered hacking, his hair lay around him in clumps. The razor clattered to the tile and Sirius was left shivering.

It was a long moment before he got to his feet.

When he met his gaze in the mirror of the motel bathroom, the hollows of his eyes carved two large shadows where his eyes should be, blood trickling from the nicks on his skull. He wiped away the blood on his cheek, and it smeared. He tried a smile, but it was all teeth, like a dog with his fangs bared.

If James could see him now.

-

im honestly hyperfixating on this one rn, but probably the 2 im ACTUALLY most excited about in general are my marauders clue au poor boy youre bound to die set in 1954 which i have rambled to u abt sorry 🙈 (summary ask here) and then the spinoff bloodlands which takes place in 1944 on the eastern front w reg, remus, evan & barty!! (summary ask here)

so here is a snippet from the next ch of poor boy you're bound to die under the cut!!

He would have been dead too, if not for a former Soviet guard by the name of Ivan Rosanov. Or, as he later became known, after absconding to France and assuming a new name and identity, Evan Rosier.

With a jaw that could take a punch and hair that could have rivalled the snow for pallor, Evan Rosier had had a comportment as icy as the tundra itself. It was only by the grace of some unfathomable higher entity, that Regulus happened to have fostered an odd friendship of sorts with the one man and one man alone who appeared able to crack that façade like a stick of dynamite colliding with a lake in midwinter.

It was for this reason that Regulus supposed he owed just as much credit to the incessant and unabashed flirting that his cell mate had engaged in as to the guard himself. If it hadn’t been for Barty Crouch Jr.’s dirty mouth and unflinching ability to suffer a beating, Regulus would have long since been a feast for the worms. That was if worms could survive the frigid conditions they had been in. He might have simply slowly decomposed on the ice without even serving the worthwhile purpose of being some critters tea-time snack. He supposed he was lucky that Evan had taken a shine to the way the blood looked smeared on Barty’s lips as he panted, in what even Regulus had to admit was an obscene way, as he was restrained in a chair as he was disciplined for some petty quip. The whole affair was rather sensual, and Regulus was amused and only a little surprised at Evan’s face coloring the faintest bit of red as Barty had turned to him and cooed “Do you like what you see, pretty boy?” right before getting smashed in the face by one of the Death Eaters for mouthing off, his blood and spit splattering through air.

[trashideas]

Fanfic writer Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk who just finished the Scenarios

Part 1

Being the only reader of an entire series is hard. Not because of the pressure to read a chapter as soon as it came out, but because there were no people to interact with.

Dokja couldn't rant about how his protagonist deserves better or about how much he loves the world-building of the novel. It gives little details over the course of the story that builds up into an entire, beautiful, universe.

So Dokja has to turn to himself to give his protagonist any sort of comfort in his repeating life.

Dokja wrote along with the postings of the source material. His paragraphs weren't as detailed or thought out as the source, but they told a story no less.

At first, his musings started in his head. Short snippets of different “what if..?” scenarios.

Eventually, during one of his 43 hours straight of being awake, he wrote down a few sentences. They were mistyped and horrid, but they presented an idea.

“Whas id Yoo Joonghyuk he a hiddy endfing?”

“What if Yoo Joonghyuk had a happy ending?”

And that one sentence broke forth to many more. What were once 1 sentence questions slowly turned into paragraphs and pages.

Eventually, Dokja was writing a chapter each time Ways of Survival posted. He posted none of them, each snippet stayed in his documents for him only. He allowed himself to be greedy with his Protagonist’s happiness.

....

The day came for the final chapter of Ways of Survival and Dokja didn't know whether to be happy, disappointed, excited, or scared. His emotions were haywire but Dokja couldn't allow for a slip of his mask. He was on a public subway. He didn't want to garner any strange looks.

When he is done reading the chapter, he isn't quite sure how to feel.

The ending was open-ended.

So obviously, when Dokja gets home that night, he writes.

He writes the ending that his protagonist deserves. One where the scenarios are over. Where his mind is allowed to rest. Where he can be happy with the person he loves the most.

Dokja doesn't want to pin his protagonist with anyone for his perfect ending. While Joonghyuk once had a child with Lee Seolhwa in the second regression, he never showed interest in her since. If that was because he lost interest or he didn't want another heartbreak, Dokja didn't know.

Dokja’s ending statement was simply,

“Yoo Joonghyuk finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. All of the regressions allowed for this. An ending to the Star Stream.

An ending to the fighting.

An ending to the grief.

And an opening to be happy.

Yoo Joonghyuk could finally be happy because he had everything he has ever come to cherish and there was no threat of it being taken from him.”

Dokja felt satisfied with the new ending. He himself felt happy for his protagonist despite this not being the true ending.

Then Dokja promptly passed out from sleep deprivation.

....

There was a knocking on the door.

Dokja had the thought to ignore it, but he couldn't bare the thought of one of the kids standing at his door, waiting for him to answer. He begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed to answer the door.

And holy fuck he was not prepared for what awaited him on the other side.

He blinked a few times to make sure his eyes did not deceive him. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse that this absolute *unit* this drop-dead *gorgeous* man was actually standing in front of him.

“Sorry for waking you up,” the beautiful man said, holding out his hand for a handshake, “but I wanted to introduce myself before I needed to work. I just moved in to the unit next door.”

Dokja dumbly took his hand, “ah- my name is Kim Dokja.”

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Dokja’s brain malfunctioned. Joonghyuk let go and disappeared into the door next to his, proving that he did live next door.

Dumbfounded, Dokja went back to bed.

...

When he woke up to his alarm, Dokja figured that he had one of his hallucinative dreams again and didn't think much of what happened. He got up, dressed for work, and left, not even glancing at the door next to his.

Dokja spent his day wondering what to do. Did he just reread the novel? Should he pick up something else?

On the subway home, Dokja checked Ways of Survival to reread it.

It wasn't there.

Dokja felt as if there was a gaping hole left in his heart, a void that used to be where Ways of Survival sat.

At least... He still had the happy ending that he wrote for Yoo Joonghyuk. He opened up his documents to reread what he wrote the other night to fix up the mistakes that his sleep-deprived mind made.

[This account doesn't exist!]

[This account doesn't exist!]

[No internet connection]

What? Dokja checked his email and it was fine, so then why were his documents not loading? He would try again when he got home. He could at least try to open them on his computer.

...

[that-was-anticlimactic]

dearest mutual corey i know we don't interact much but i wanted to drop by and say thank you because your little snippet pushed me to continue writing my kunidazai fic. hope you have a great day <3

vi oH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY I AM JUST RESPONDING TO THIS NOW!!! i have a Horrid work/life balance (it's so bad... i once tried grading while th eother bridesmaids and i were getting ready at a wedding... they confiscated my phone which was. good aNYWAYS i get rambly when i;m tired aNYWAYS x2-)

i also hoard nice asks like a dragon tucking away precious gold <333 bc this made me smile like a fool!!! i don't remember whar snippet it was, but i am SO glad it helped push you into continuing your fic <333 i hope the fic is going well/any fics you're working on are going well and you're super awesome and i appreciate you and your presence on the dash and your kindness and creativity and. yeah iuyftcgyhui

[sercezgazety]

2, 9, 11, 16, 20 from this ask game

2. Is there any specific ritual you go through while/before/after your writing?

Honestly, no. There were some cases when I sat down and was able to write an entire fic in one night instead of sleeping just because it was from Lilith's point of view. And there were cases when I struggled with fics for months (just because they weren't from Lilith's pov, let's be honest). I write on the train, before giving a lecture, instead of working, or as a treat because I’m finished with my tasks. Two chapters of The Deal were written on my phone, and so was one chapter of Inhale, Hold, Exhale, because I was restless in a waiting room at a doctor’s. Eda’s entire testimony before the court in A Potter’s Field? Written on the phone during an awkward Christmas eve at the workplace and on my way back. But some other stories were written solely on the laptop during a deserved day off.

I guess there are two constants: 1. I start with collecting vocabulary and useful phrases that have the right vibe, I list them, and then I build the sentences and events around them (yeah, seriously); 2. when I’m near the finish line, I refuse to eat, sleep and whatnot until I reach the end of the story. That’s most often the moment when I finally know how the story’s supposed to end. Only after the last sentence, I fall asleep, sometimes still fully clothed.

Then comes the editing, though, which means the story usually gets twice as long in the process. But the frame, the, uh, skeleton is already there, so it’s much easier.

9. Do you ever have plans to write anything other than fic?

Papers. I have so many freaking papers to write and publish. I’m supposed to be writing one right now.

Back when I was younger, I actually believed I could be able to write a fantasy novel (then it turned into an SF one). I can’t, though. I don’t have enough ideas of my own. What I can do is deconstruct and play with the ideas of others.

11. Weirdest thing you’ve ever written/thought about writing/etc.?

Erm. Back when I was 14 and used to dwell in the cellars of FFN, there was this Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends fic of mine. In which Frankie was so fed up with Mr. Herriman, she murdered him with a chopper. Then, she served him for dinner. Yeah.

idk, man. I was going through a phase (she said, still going through the same phase)

16. Do you have structured ideas of how your story is supposed to go, or make it up as you write?

As per my answer to question #2, I have no idea what I’m doing. There are some very rare occasions when I know how I want the story to end (once again, The Deal), but then I have no idea how to reach that ending, so I work backwards. But mostly, I have snippets of dialogue, a word I want to use, a problem I want to make worse, and I build around that.

I know what’s going to happen in the next paragraph, but not the one after that. That’s why I never publish multi-chapter fics before having finished writing the fic's entirety. I might get stuck in the middle of nowhere (this happened with some of my Star Trek wips), I might change the character’s motivation by the end of the story, and then add or delete some scenes in the beginning. I might need to completely re-arrange the material. I don’t know how people who publish chapters while not having the entire work as a context do it  (I mean, they do it very well, it’s just something that sounds too difficult for me).

20. 4 sentences from your work that you’re proud of

[context: Philip opens Caleb’s coffin and sees the worms inside]

These things might have their purpose, but Philip doesn’t enjoy watching them crawl. Frankly, it’s quite disgusting, and even looking at them squirm makes him gag at times. There’s just something naturally repulsive about them being blind, trying to find their way in the ground by touch, wriggling and making little nauseating movements that cause the soil to collapse and bog. These parasites are equally horrid when they crawl out, finally ripe, or when they cower in the middle of the throne room, trying to repent not because their conscience tells them it’s necessary but solely because they’re frightened of the punishment they justly deserve.

[that’s from The Emperor’s Two Bodies; I don’t rememeber any other fic giving that much of a hard time]

[residentdormouse]

WIP Wednesday (Thursday)

Thank you for the tag @imagine-you! So I'm assuming rules for this are to just post a short snippet of what you are working on right now. If that was not, oops - my bad. Its what I turned it into though, so I guess those are the rules now? Eh, we do what we want here.

I don't have a terrible large amount to share yet, but I will try something. The only WIP I have actively going right now is my original story 'Close to the Vale'. This is from the beginning chapter:

Vapors from the bottom shelf bourbon burned her nostrils as she swirled it around her glass.  With the surrounding atmosphere, having the lingering scent of alcohol was probably for the best. Smoke never bothered her much, and the bar itself was wiped somewhat regularly, but everything else? Questionable, at best. There was truth to be found in the ‘ignorance is bliss’ concept, and probing into the mysterious substances on the floor for too long seemed unwise. At least getting here early meant she was able to secure one of the few bar stools without any kind of an unknown stick to it. This wasn’t even touching the issue of the single stall bathroom that had definitely seen better days, all of which being well before she was born. No, the setting was lacking, but the drinks were cheap and everybody left her alone. One more swirl, and she downed the liquid in a single gulp. The horrid taste had vanished after the first two shots, and those were polished off about an hour ago. Now, she might as well have been drinking water.

No Pressure Tagging: @asirensrage, @heavensfallenfaction, @joeysjaskier, @cxttlefishcxller, @stesierra - and OPEN TAG to anybody who would like to share a bit of writing! Please '@' Me!!

[blorbocedes]

Bidded and bedded anon here. Another snippet from the fic I'm not writing 👀

---

"I can't believe it's you! I thought..."

"I know, Maxy." Daniel's arms tightened around him. "I know. It's horrid. But don't worry. Your old man outbid them all."

Your old man? "My dad?" Max tried to break away from Daniel's tight embrace so he could see his face, but Daniel held on, laughing.

"No, stupid. Me. I outbid them all."

"You? But..." This time Max did manage to lean back far enough to look at Daniel's face in astonishment.

"And to the winner go the spoils." One of Daniel's hands was sliding down Max's back, moving lower, lower—

Max jumped when Daniel squeezed his ass, then glared. "Spoils?"

Daniel let out a smug "yep", the drawn out P grating at Max's nerves suddenly.

He was tired, sticky with champagne, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that the competition was fierce," Daniel said, his pleased expression morphing into something else, something ugly, and Christ, was it like an actual auction? Did people actually stand around bidding on Max? Had Daniel seen the other bidders? Had he seen... him?

Daniel laughed suddenly, snapping Max out of that particular train of thought. "I basically had to fight them all off. But I won, Maxy." Daniel's teeth glistened in the dim light. "I won the grand prix."

"Jesus." Max just couldn't wrap his head around any of it. "How much did you bid?"

"Ah." Daniel squeezed his ass again, which. Fine, yes, he'd won Max in an auction, ha-ha. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. I'm a rich guy now, Max. Well," he amended, "I was."

But... No. Surely he hadn't...

"Did you spend your McLaren money on me? Daniel!" That was an insane amount of money.

Daniel shrugged, his hand still resting on Max's ass, and Max was gonna step away any moment now, but he didn't want Daniel to think he wasn't grateful.

He was.

Just.

Jesus.

"I can pay you back," he offered. "I really appreciate this, Daniel, but..."

"No."

"...I can't let you—" Max blinked. "No?"

"I'm getting a good deal out of it." Daniel finally let go of him, taking a small step back, and whistling between his teeth as he looked Max up and down. "Look at you, Maxy. Two time World Champion. All grown up."

Max didn't really know what to say to that, or what it had to do with Daniel getting Max out of trouble. "We can at least split—"

"Nuh-uh. To the winner go the spoils, remember? You're worth it," Daniel said softly, meaningfully. "All of it."

It felt like they were having two different conversations. Like they weren't on the same wavelength. And okay, maybe they hadn't been in some time; they'd drifted apart a bit over the years, but...

Daniel, perhaps seeing Max's confusion, stepped closer again, placing one hand on Max's waist, the other on the side of his face, looking at him gently, with eyes that were... hungry... and Max was starting to realize now that Daniel was... that he wanted...

Daniel leaned in slowly, giving Max plenty of time to back out, only— he couldn't, could he? Daniel had paid for this.

Daniel had paid for this.

Gentle lips touched Max's and at first he couldn't hear his own hammering heartbeat over the ringing in his ears, the static in his brain, mind frantic with the implications, of— of Daniel— of Daniel wanting him still—

Daniel pulled him closer, gently stroking Max's sides and back. "Hey. Hey. It's okay." The words were whispered against Max's lips, soft puffs of air between them. "It's me. It's just me."

And when Max parted his lips to — what, protest, gasp, scream? — Daniel licked his way into his mouth, and Max... let him in.

I missed you!!!!!!!🥺🥺🥺🥺 I'm kissing you!!!!!!

this better be a fully fledged 30k fic like we promised and bartered upon 😤 (also I sincerely hope you're saving these somewhere that isn't my inbox 😭 this is way too good to risk tumblr eating it up)

daniel calling himself Max's old man, that's so perfectly gross 🥰 daniel dumping his mclaren severance pay on the 3 night verstussy always gets me 😭 what the FUCK would you do that!!!!! you delusional sexy weirdo!!!! omg not Mystery Redacted Mention 😳

poor maxy tired and sticky from champagne 🥺 surely daniel HIS FRIEND will let him rest 😅 somehow the note about Daniel's teeth glistening is so threatening. you can convey all these little story beats without Saying it outright and im biting you im biting you... 'I won the Grand Prix' referring to max is truly... something. and that's the only thing he's winning 💀 and now he's BROKE 💀 (not actually but ykno, a few significant amount of zeroes are gone)

maxy offering to pay back 🥺 oh sweet thing... daniel literally Leering at him, All Grown Up~ I made this exact face 😬 (it's so good) daniel literally referring to him as spoils of war and in his mind this is an incredibly romantic situation 😭😭😭 where max literally can't say no, and he's like wow we're soulmates...

they're Not on the same wavelength!!!! oh the max slow realization..... the slow betrayal of a friend you thought you could trust.... Daniel PAID for this... he Wants this... wants him still even though they're Long over but it's better than some gross old weirdo, right? Daniel would never do something he's uncomfortable with right?

despite everything daniel being gentle 🥺🥺🥺 it is just him... you can trust him.... just give in.... the Almost romance of it all <3 hnnggggggg

Im biting you

[pearlescentpearl]

Would you tells us about "your prince is in another castle" please?

Okay! This is actually one of my early wips when I first started writing for the Silm, before I'd had a more satisfactory grip on the characters. But basically, the premise is that when Melkor passed by the Fëanorions on Ungoliant, he paused long enough to grab Maedhros.

A snippet for you! I haven't looked at this in so long so it's a little rough :D

“Patience, Little Prince, you’ll see your new home soon enough,” Melkor said. Nelyafinwë tried to kick him, only managing an impotent jerk in his bonds, barely a nudge. 

On solid ground, the spider heaved it’s body, tilted, until Melkor slid off. Over his shoulder, the Helcaraxë is vast, blinding, and the sea beside it insurmountable, but far off in the distance, a constant cruel taunt the whole journey, is a glimpse of Aman — home in all it’s implied safety, hopelessly out of reach.

“My reward,” hisses a voice that makes Nelyafinwë cringe, curling as best he can to shield his ears from the low, deep voice that seems to creep and writhe like nothing he’s ever needed the words to describe before. Like upturning a rock to find a multitude of wriggling insects except they’re on his spine and in his ears and it’s dark and he’s trapped. 

“Of course,” Melkor replies. “As promised.”

Melkor’s shoulders shift, and Nelyafinwë with them until, with a muffled noise of alarm, he abruptly slides down the Vala’s front and for a moment he fears he’ll be let to drop all the way to the ground— but no. The Vala’s forearm arrests his fall, and he sits there in the crook of his arm like a child. Nelyafinwë’s face goes hot with the humiliation of it all, right up until he sees, properly, the face of the creature whose webs bind him and the flush drains down just as quick and twice as unpleasantly.

It’s hideous. 

It’s terrifying.

It’s unnatural a part of his mind screams, the part gripped still by the maddening Unlight still binding him like an unlucky insect, shying away from perceiving the creature in its fullness. 

Gagging, Nelyafinwë abandons pride and cringes back into the Vala’s chest, trying to put as much distance between him and it as he could.

It must amuse Melkor, for he laughs, steps closer to the monstrous thing. With his free hand, Melkor proffers a bag full of brilliant gems of every color and cut and clever enchantment. Gems, Nelyafinwë recognizes from Formenos — some his own craft! 

Nelyafinwë shudders in sudden realization.

Melkor has been to Formenos.

Is his Grandfather alright? Pensive Grandfather who’d been plagued with forebodings all day. Is this what he foresaw? 

Distress sits like a stone in his gut and grips tightly around the temples.

Grandfather wouldn’t have stood by as Melkor raided their home like a fox in a bird’s nest. He’d have fought.

Tears prickle his eyes, and he blinks them away angrily. Feels them freeze on his cheeks anyway. Grandfather is dead, Nelyafinwë thinks, grieved and furious anew, Melkor killed him. 

The creature hisses, a spike of unpleasant noise to the brain, and eagerly buries it’s horrid maw in the bag. After a tense moment, Nelyafinwë realizes its eating the gems, shoveling them into its mouth with the barbed little arms protruding under its many eyes. He can hear the cracking and crunching from where he huddles.

Horrible, awful noise.

[finn-m-corvex]

Trick or treat! :D

Trick or treat!!! How are you my friend? I hope today has been good!! Unfortunately, I seem to have exhausted the stores of Ninjago things that I had in the back, but fear not! Now you will all just witness my horrid original works

You've won: Elementals! This is a story that I was developing back in 2019, so it's not going to read as well as what I write nowadays; please forgive little 14 year old me. Let's see if you can figure out what it's supposed to be from the snippet!

Once, a long time ago, there was no world. There was only the galaxies and stars to fill the empty void of chaos, a barren space with no life or spirit.

But soon many beings came into the desolate plane, desperate to escape the tragedies of their own nebula. They knew the importance of balance, and that it was key to any form of society, so as a group they fled away from their home to find a new place; they did this to start over, and begin their own civilization far away from the crumbling federation of Oranous.

The spirits knew at once that this was the place, and began to build their culture. Starting with a life source, they formed Helios, the planet we know as the sun. This gave way to the creation of many more celestial entities, all home to the most powerful of the spirits. All of their masterpieces were governed by one wraith, known only as Phantom, who became weaved into the very essence of the cosmos.

One of the planets that were constructed was very special, in the fact that it could hold the new life forms the spirits so desperately wanted to create. So many of them inhabited the planet, naming it Gaia in honor of their own kind.

All of the open space between the surface of their creation was filled by a spirit known as Air, with all of the hollow, cavernous space beneath the earth being filled by Lava. Six massive lands were established by a specter named Ground, a seventh being managed by Ice. On these land masses, the spirits made their permanent homes, living among each other in harmony unlike any other seen.

But peace was never meant to last forever.

[yell0wsalt]

20 Questions for Writers

saw @ljf613 do this and wanted to give it a try

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27. (I have a couple others I made private bc they are horrid. Teeter between completely rewriting or deleting them, so in the limbo private collection they stay)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

72,228

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I mostly have written for Avatar: Legend of Korra and have a few fics for My Hero Academia.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'm Bored, Let's Fuck

Your Electric Touch

A Spark in the Dark

Loving You throughout the Years

A Closed Discussion

Drives me bananas 2/5 of these are horrid not even well-writted E-rated fics and that I have several other stories I'd prefer being in my top 5 but whatever, I guess

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course! Very few read what I write, let alone bother to comment. Honestly, you took time out of your day to read my silly story and leave a comment?

That means the world to me.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Without a doubt, Shinishi of the Deep. It was my first take on a Cosmic Horror AU and I took to leaving it open-ended regarding Iroh's fate. The last line Join me is simple, but keeps it in the air of who said it.

Was it Asami?

Was it the monster out in the open? Is that monster even real?

Who will he listen to?

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

The happiest? Umm I mostly write happy endings, so it all depends on the context, but probably Loving You throughout the Years, a small collection of one shots of Linzin being in a relationship not experiencing their breakup. Chapter 3 is what comes to mind when considering their happy ending.

Hurts Like Hell when I got Irosami to get together after their breakup was satisfying to write.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not cool enough to get hate on, so I fly under the radar.

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

Oof, that's a big old YIKES from me. I do a lot better with the build up and sexual tension between the couple before.

Pay no mind to the snippet I posted yesterday

Although I feel like I should get out of my comfort zone and try it, it's also horribly embarrassing to be seen flopping in real time.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Noooo. I have curious thoughts about crossovers (/pos), but have zero business in giving writing one a shot.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

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

Never have I ever.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Don't do this to me. I'm naming three.

Linzin

Irosami

EraserMic

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

I'm planning to bring all of my WIPs into the New Year!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm, pass.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything—

*sad clown sounds*

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I

I've seen people do it before in other fics which can be an interesting touch to world building. However, my problem with some authors doing so comes down to it being clear they used a source like GoogleTranslate to do so. Often, the grammatical structure is incorrect (surprise, surprise, not every language goes subject + verb + object like English).

Also, there may be words in the other language that would be better suited for the context in the fic.

I know myself well enough that's something I should stay away from in my writing unless I am familiar with the language or can reach out to someone who is.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Legend of Korra. I just started this year, so there's still a lot more to tap into.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Might be a tie between Breathe Me Back To Life or Say It. I like the universes I created for the pairings here and think about them often.

[feline17ff]

Taking a chance here. Hear me out.

Let's see if I get lucky.

I'm looking for a mentor.

I want to be an editorial apprentice. Edit: I just want to learn about the publishing industry now, and editing position is most welcome, but I want to learn about the process and how to help fix the industry.

No changes have been made to the rest of this post, when the context was for a purely editorial apprenticeship. Still applies ofc tho

First off, I know editing (and publishing for that matter) is a tough field to break into. And the biggest publishers, at least in the US, are horrid.

But! I'm not in the US (though I did signal boost and support the cause by emailing the publisher)!

My city calls itself the publishing capital of the country. I looked it up, and even emailed them a few weeks ago. I haven't gotten a reply yet but I'm sure it'll be a different story if I actually go and talk to the people there. The companies there count as indie, I believe.

It'll still be hard to break into the industry, but no harm in trying, right?

Why you should mentor me:

Go back to the basics. Before college degrees were the bare minimum. When there were apprenticeships and you learnt on the job. If you mentor me, I promise to do the same in the future and work against the current job market culture.

I'm not in the US. So that means my country has different standards, a different market, and different systems in place. I can help you get your foot in the door here. We can be a tag-team! You talk to publishers here, or get a business license, and I can be your in-person person! :D

Once a month, there's a very small used book fair-like thing in my city, and, while the selection is limited, the books are SUPER cheap. I'm talking USD1 to USD4!!!!!!!! It doesn't go higher! I've bought a lot of books and now I'm making my way through them so that's something to look forward to. So, we can choose and work on different genres of books every month :))))

What I've been doing on my end:

At the above book fair, I recently bought The Publishing Manifestos (a 2019 book for USD2.72!!!). It's about the art book publishing industry though, but it's still valid imo, and I've been reading it :)

I'm co-writing a book, and we're almost done with the first draft! Right now, including the occasional comments, ideas, and jokes in the middle, our doc is 231 pages. So, you know I mean business.

I have a side blog where I started reblogging my fav snippets of a genre I like, but now my brain has recently shifted so now I'm analyzing both Tumblr snippets and my physical books 😅

My skills:

I have experience with business copywriting, proofreading and editing from my old job: weekly newsletter and blog post (proofreading only), Google Ads, video ads, SMSs, notifications, customer support articles, canned responses.

I started writing fiction like a year ago, but have recently had the time to work on and improve my writing skills.

I work well. I have proof that I won’t post here for obvious reasons. But believe me, I've got a really good reference and you can DM me for details :D

Thank you for reading! 💖💖💖