#this is my new closest ive gotten to finished (i thumbed this this time. and planned colour more or less bfhand)

[catboy-a-day]

catboy 45, average compsci major.

[comicteaparty]

July 4th-July 10th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from July 4th, 2020 to July 10th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

What was an unexpected aspect of making webcomics you didn’t realize before making one yourself?

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

How much our comic and it's story we're going to change during the years of creation was the biggest and most jarring aspect for sure. There's scripts and thumbs that were all made before we ventured out to make GJS with paths completely different from what we initially thought we would take that have completely changed how we approach not only writing but reading webcomics too. Webcomics as a medium have the biggest connection to time, whether it be production or the consumption, they have this opportunity to exist and transform in the long hours it takes to enjoy and read them. It's honestly one of the biggest advantages imho. To see a story slowly unfold, listening to ur audience reactions, peer critiques, or new inspiration can make such a drastic and intense impact on a long form work- its both jaw dropping and humbling to be apart of!(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

For me it was the community aspect of comics. I knew a community existed on the reader side of things (comments!), but I didn't expect the creator side to be how it is! I don't know why, but for some reason I kind of always thought that all of us were sort of throwing our comics out from the void... I guess that was me looking at comics from a reader's point of view! But as soon as I started making comics, I started meeting people who made them too... and it's been incredible!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@deo I never really understood what an internet community or internet friends were until I started making a webcomic

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah, I had been in (and quickly decided to not be in 0_0) gaming communities, but nothing really as wonderful as what I've found through comics. Closest I had gotten other than that was comments on social media

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

Community definitely one of the big things, much like Deo pointed. I was kinda expecting to have get connections through readers, but it's much more with other creators, which is super satisfying in it's own way. Also gonna second Krispy's comment about how time affects how you see your story's past and future. A lot of things changed in the past four years that made my comic change as well and having so much time to think each individual scene allows them to be much more complex and interesting than they would when I first thought them through. Having the time really helps. This also kinda touches the topic of personal change too, which affects how I write and what feels most important to focus on and that's interesting to think about as well

eliushi [Keyspace]

How long things will take, the longer the story goes on! I started out being able to complete a page in 2h but then I found more I wanted to try on each page (colours, layout, composition etc) and even wanted to extend certain scenes. With 500 pages planned, I definitely thought I’d be farther along by now, heading into AWT’s first year anniversary in a month. That being said, I’m also enjoying the ride and it’s all thanks to the great community here and making connections with other comics folks/readers. I never expected to get comments and so each one has been a treasure to read.

Desnik

An unexpected aspect of making webcomics is how much people respond to them. I figured I'd be creating into a void but I met so many people as a result of publishing my dinosaur comic

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Ditto on the webcomic community. I didn't realize how far reaching it was to have a community that supports each other. And I've enjoyed meeting so many wonderful and creative people who raised each other up. Another thing I didn't expect, however, was how invested I got into my comic.(edited)

At first I was doing it mostly for fun. But the more I delved into it, the easier it was to get sucked into my story and want to draw it out. And as a result taking it a lot more seriously.

Desnik

yeah sometimes I miss my dinosaur comic even though I had some pretty good reasons for moving on. It was created out of desperation and evolved into something that made me feel good about myself

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

How much work and time it takes to keep a weekly update going with no backlog

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah same

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

For me, I didn't realize how much it would affect my life to make comics, and vice versa. In a weird way, I didn't know how interrelated the two were, or how easily life could interfere with my comic, or the inverse.

eliushi [Keyspace]

Making comics became a lifestyle for me

@Haruh2 (Colony Life) When I had no backlog I was updating every two weeks with 7 pages per update; so about 14h of work. But this is with a finished script. I am also told I work fast.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

omg

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

That's soooo much, Eli!

That's at least twice as much as I do (edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

For me, I didn't realize how much it would affect my life to make comics, and vice versa. In a weird way, I didn't know how interrelated the two were, or how easily life could interfere with my comic, or the inverse.

I hadn't realized how much I put myself into my comic! My friends who read it have all said that it's incredibly in my voice and reflects my opinions and worldviews Before I shared it with people I hadn't thought of it in that way at all

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

As an artist, I didn't expect how my comic production and mindset will change. Once I started comics, it brought out my ideas from thoughts to a physical form. I start to invest more time into it. Each project evolved through each chapter. How to balance script writing to a polished piece. I put alot of time and research in my works. It makes me glad to hear other creators do the same. I'm not the crazy artist who's wasting her time. One of the positive change was meeting other creators, how we give advice and receive praise.(edited)

eliushi [Keyspace]

The support has been amazing. It makes the work less lonely

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Fish, oh for sure! I didn't realize until recently how much my characters are all just facets of myself!

eliushi [Keyspace]

(I don’t work that quickly anymore and I’m making big changes to the format soon so it’s going to be a Transition)

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

I've been in school with art students who never made comics, so when I came to CTP discord, reading comic discussions. It was comforting and fun. I enjoy the cooperation our group has, helping each other.

eliushi [Keyspace]

I like to commiserate about the unique challenges comics have

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Hahaha, yeahhhhh

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

I agree, it's different from illustrations. Different approach(edited)

eliushi [Keyspace]

I am perpetually balancing time spent on a panel vs how much time the reader will spend on it

Vs illustration: lemme make all the details

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Oh I agree, each panel takes longer than it takes to read it. Hence I dislike when readers call manga creators 'lazy'

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

how much time does it take to read one of my pages?

20 seconds?(edited)

haha

e.e

wait is that emoji supposed to be someone rolling their eyes??

i jsut looked it up

i might've been using it wrong this whole time

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Pacing

It's way different than in novels, and definitely came as a shock at the start

eliushi [Keyspace]

Yeah have to play to the strength of the medium. Still imagining AWT as an animated movie written from a novel, in the format of a comic

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Haha, same kinda

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

@eliushi [Keyspace] ah haha, that makes me feel better about my update habits, but thats a good goal for me to shoot for now that im learning a new way to make long comics specifically

cAPSLOCK (Tailslide)

I completely underestimated the amount of effort that would have to go into formatting, website design and maintenance, etc. If I got to do it again, a little more research beforehand probably would’ve saved me a lot of time and hassle.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I really overestimated the "if you build it they will come" aspect of webcomics lol. Like, you actually have to work to advertise your comic in order for people to read it. Nobody ever got hundreds of readers just from posting their comic onto some hosting site without doing major marketing work.(edited)

dako

yeah, I feel that

I've never really been an advertising type before my comic, im learning to just get used to it

Deo101 [Millennium]

I've not really done much advertising tbh, it makes me uncomfortable

dako

it feels kinda...embarrassing? might be too harsh of a word

i dunno

Deo101 [Millennium]

its just uncomfortable idk! i feel awkward doing it

dako

yeah, same ive done it a few times on reddit but i have to force myself

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

it does feel, odd..hell most of the time it just feels like i open the door to my house and toss a bunch of paper to the wind hoping someone can see it

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah, I dont know if ive done anything other than posting updates on twitter and talking about it in groups like this

and twitter is mostly just me talkin to people who already read it...

idk talking about my work without being asked first makes me feel like im inserting myself where im not allowed

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Self promo got MUCH less intimidating for me when I started thinking of it like: "okay, so my comic is made for readers like me, people who share my tastes. That means I only need to answer one question: what can I say to get me to check out this comic? I don't need to impress anyone else. I just need to appeal to me." (since "me" is my target audience)

Deo101 [Millennium]

mhm ^^

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

But take it with a grain of salt because I'm still not really promoing

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

exactly, thats why i find it hard to tweet about it most of the time, but i get the whole if i dont care about to talk without being asked no one else will either

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah lmao mood im like what would get me to read... hmmm... probably exactly what im doing.... I'll keep it up then :)

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

yea i get excited to draw out certain parts..but wouldnt want to just tweet about all the little tidbits of the story ruining it for others

Deo101 [Millennium]

sweats

dako

i made a whole side twitter for my comic cuz talking about it on my main intimidated me too much

it is my containment chamber

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

hm may do that, just to say i did it and to get my mind away from the thought

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

yeah same

Deo101 [Millennium]

My main is just whatever I want it to be idk. Its kinda for all my comics, since my comics are all I want to talk about

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

though my main is mostly just retweeting from my side twitter lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

it removes a lot of the pressure of like what if my followers dont wanna see this??

cause they wouldnt be here if they didnt wanna see it

cause its all Ive been doing the whole time

dako

thats a good point

i had my main way before my comic so most of my mutuals/followers dont follow for that

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

yea, it can feel abit disorienting when there is no interaction one way or another on anything you tweet (also if twitter has messed up and causes your tweets to not show up)

Deo101 [Millennium]

but yeah I dont really advertise cause it just makes me so uncomfortable >.<

dako

understandable

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I'm kind of somewhere in between. I advertise my comic mostly because it is all I wanna talk about, like Deo. But I also don't think it's gotten me many readers. Most of my readers came as far as I can tell because I was making something that appealed to them. (The whole "if you build it, they will come" thing.) Although, I really don't have a big audience, I do have an audience, and I am certain most of them came from me just posting.

I think it's determined a lot by luck, and also, how big your niche's audience is to begin with (and some skill tbh).

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah like I think "gay sci fi" is a p big niche so ive got a big amount of people I could potentially reach

which makes it much easier to draw people in

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I'm particularly lucky, I guess, that fantasy/romance has a lot of readers (also more competition, but...)

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah fantasy romance is a damn big one

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

eh i think im in an awkward void with my action/drama story (since im not doing romance drama)

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I just go with the mindset: "what makes my fantasy/romance different from the rest" and go from there.

Deo101 [Millennium]

mhm

tbh I dont think my sci fi romance is doing anything special?

but im having fun so :) I dont rlly care about that hahahha

dako

having fun the most important thing

Deo101 [Millennium]

its not my goal to make somthing mindblowing ^^ truley im just here for a good time

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I mean, LGBT+-inclusive sci-fi is pretty unique

I haven't seen a lot

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's clear that your characters are people, and that's special, regardless of how common/uncommon

dako

think if i didnt love my comic as much as i do id have stopped a long time ago

Deo101 [Millennium]

thats true keiiii, thank you <3

also yeah its Sad that theres not more LGBT+ sci fi cause its like youve got aliennnssssssssssssssssssss you can do whatever you waaaaaant

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I knooowww

Deo101 [Millennium]

guess it shows what ppl want or something

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

yup

Deo101 [Millennium]

off topic

so to make it back on topic

I underestimated how much people would like gay sci fi GJKLAGJLAJLKAGJSLAKGJKL

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

One thing I learned specifically with my current comic... I did not realize how much difference the reader's cultural background would make in terms of interpreting my story.

Deo101 [Millennium]

!!!!!

I actually almost mentioned you in class once tbh keiii

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Big oversight, in retrospect

!?

Deo101 [Millennium]

saying "someone I know makes a comic which they noticed, it's interpreted completely differently just depending on cultural backgrounds" kind of a thing

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

like I would not have made the comic any different, but I would have approached the... presentation differently. Like, talk about it differently

Deo101 [Millennium]

cause we were talking about how narratives affect rt

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I guess another thing that was unexpected about making webcomics was... there are way more people with my exact tastes than I thought

Deo101 [Millennium]

and I was saying that I think the viewer's narrative affects art more than the artists narrative

I mean, the artists narrative obviously is what makes it so.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

In the eyes of the beholder

Deo101 [Millennium]

but interpretations and all that... yeah!!!

so. actually I might have offhandedly mentioned you I cant remember if I did or not

lemme check

I did! very like "second hand" offhandedly mentioning though ahaha

hope that doesnt make you uncomfortable GSKLGSJALGJLGK no one replied to me so e.e

in the class I mean

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I am super uncomfortable and offended !!!!!

j/k

Deo101 [Millennium]

hgjkghsjkagskajgdhsakgjhgjd

but... yeah idk starting out I truly just was making it cause I really love my characters a lot, the idea that other people would like them too is very unexpected :) in a good way

I also definitely didnt expect how important enviornments were e.e

didnt plan those well enough.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

that relatable feel

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I really desperately advertise my comic everywhere. I don't really know how to do marketing effectively though & I don't know if its working

eliushi [Keyspace]

I find what increased readership most consistently is still the feature aspect from the hosting sites. It’s really about finding the right readers/right readers finding you

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Same, I'm basically a rounding error away from being 100% reliant on the features for subs

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I don't think my comic has ever been featured on the hosting sites. My numbers have always been low on Tapas and maybe thast why

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, features help a lot

I've been featured on Webtoon, but not Tapas, and you can really see the difference in readership there

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ive been featured on both, uhh in a couple of diff places, if you wanted a breakdown of how many readers i got from the diff spots and stuff ever just lmk im happy to share

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I've been featured on both. It certainly got people to check it out and even sub, but retaining those people (even if they've subbed!!!) is a different story. I think my story is just not the right type for the platforms, but eh, even if 99% of the platform users aren't into the kinda thing I'm making, 1% increase is still an increase.

Which is another thing I learned over the course of running this comic, specifically (since the internet has changed so much after my first two attempts). Just because the majority of your subs don't actually read the comic, doesn't mean your work sucks. Today's internet caters to casual users, and there's a bajillion factors affecting who's actually reading your stuff.

dako

i agree

my comic has never been featured on either, and webtoons doesnt have a guideline on what they pick but tapas does and my comic doesnt really meet their featuring requirements so i dont think either site ever will feature mine haha

so i gotta advertise on reddit and use twitter tags a lot

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Don't go too crazy with twitter tags; they can make people zone out and not look at your tweet.

dako

i try to use 5 at the most, i know too many is unpleasant to look at haha

Jib {WIP haha}

Oh huh, my rule of thumb is to use 1-2 on twitter and as many as I can on Insta but I’m no expert lol

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, IG seems to be where you want all the tags XD

varethane

Webtoon's algorithms are like turning a hose on and off lol

The difference between views and sub growth during periods of being featured vs not is stark(edited)

carcarchu

i've never been featured by webtoons but i've seen series grow from 100 followers to 10k overnight

not an exaggeration

varethane

I put my new comic on webtoon in november 2019, and in 1 month I crawled up to.... maybe 50 subs?(granted I only put up one episode and then paused for a bit)

Then in December I started updating it weekly and got placed in the new and hot section of the app

And bam, 6k subs

It last 2 weeks and then the section updated and all growth stopped, and subs went down by 10 or so over the next week

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

(Omg featured is like the new Daily Deviation goals from DA way back in the day!)

varethane

Until it got another feature on a different part of the website and went up another 2k. It was like playing with the handle on a faucet lol

dako

I got some pretty good growth during canvas week, but beyond that not really

I get 1-2 subs after an update if I'm lucky

varethane

I feel like their algorithms are very reliant on the regular rotation of features that staff have to do manuallt

Outside of that, discoverability is quite weak

Mostly because of the volume of comics on there

boogeymadam

same boat as vare. the only thing i know about webtoons features is they have stated a couple times one of their recquirements is consistant updating, so if u skip a week that disqualifies u for a lil while i imagine

varethane

I wonder what they count as consistent. I was doing every 2 weeks for awhile, but this month I'm gonna try weekly to see if it helps me earn more $$ from ads :U

dako

I wish there was more incentive for readers to check out the new section on webtoons and tapas

carcarchu

i have found some amazing gems in the new section

i swear i've seen stuff in featured that were not at all updated consistently

dako

I have too, there's a ton of good comics that get overlooked because they're not in the front page

some featured comics havent updated in months sometimes

varethane

I definitely would not have considered myself consistent at the time of the first feature, considering there was a gap of a month between episode 1 and 2 lpl

carcarchu

the consistently updating thing is more of a recommendation than a requirement i feel?(edited)

boogeymadam

ooohh good to know!!

varethane

I'm sure it cant be a hard rule, especially for comics that have just launched

boogeymadam

im just going off their canvas qna's from last year

dako

if it's actually a hard rule for staff to feature comics that regularly update they break that rule a lot

i also heard a bot picks up comics too

carcarchu

well i at least think the staff or bots or whatever at webtoons are doing a better job with features than tapas is

tapas is always pushing their premium comics way more than their indie stuff

boogeymadam

tapas needs to bring new comics onto the frontpage more often than it does, yeah

dako

yeah I agree

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I mean, I get why they put premium on the front page. But I feel more variety would help them because it's more interesting for the readers?

dako

I can't tell whats premium or not with tapas sometimes

boogeymadam

i do like that they've been asking stuff like this in the forums tho

carcarchu

more distinction would be helpful to me too dako

i don't think its as clear as it could be

dako

yeah, webtoons at least it's clear what is and what isnt featured or canvas

Jib {WIP haha}

Huh, anyone remember that really popular writing podcast? I forgot the name

Or have any recommendations I guess

Moral_Gutpunch

Terrible writing advice? It's sarcastic

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

is this related to the topic?

Moral_Gutpunch

It's a podcast about writing, so I'm going to say yes.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I think snuffysam meant the weekly topic for the channel

Moral_Gutpunch

Oh

Just for this channel, no. I'm too new to know that.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Please check #rules

Moral_Gutpunch

Sound more like someone forgot context than the rules

That's why I'm hardly here. I don't know stuff people who've been here for a long time know like podcasts or older comics(edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Basically each of the channels under "CTP Activities" on this server has its own topic of the week.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

It's not a matter of being here for a long time or not. This channel is used solely for discussing the weekly topics, and such information can be found in #rules

Moral_Gutpunch

Kudos then. I came for creator babble only.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

For general webcomic creation-related advice (either seeking or giving) and such, #shop_talk usually is the place!

creator_babble is for answering the topic of the week

It's not actually for generalized "creator babble" despite the name.

dako

looks like they left

Jib {WIP haha}

Oh my bad, it’s been a while since I read the rules, I brought up the new subject

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Happens!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

No problem, we were just reminding you all :)

Jib {WIP haha}

Ty for that then haha

dako

I think one unexpected thing for me is that no one tells you how crazy the highs and lows can be

well I guess people do but you really don't know until the highs and lows happen to you if that makes sense

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Oh God, that's so true

Burnout is way more dreadful than I could ever guess prior to experiencing it

Feather J. Fern

One unexpected thing for me was how many people I would meet because of my comic. It surprised me greatly that I found so many cool people through the comic community and made the friends I have made now. Love you all

rajmews

The unexpected thing for me was just how much you have to just...predict...what the market will want to read. Like even if you research a whole lot, and you draw really well, and have been doing art professionally, you can still strike out. It's a humbling experience, but being able to just let go of poorly received pages and move on and try things differently is a lot of the battle for doing a webcomic. It teaches you how to fail gracefully because...it's all a process of learning your readers better. Even if they're few at first.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

My major unexpected thing was how much my initial ideas change as I work through a page. Everything from the expressions, dialogue, and layout can change as I look at it and 'solve' it more closely than I did in thumbnails. There are pages I look back on and realize they are ENTIRELY different than what I had first sketched. And they're better for it. Allowing myself the freedom to edit during the artwork... it's created some majorly awesome opportunities.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yes!!!!! Me too!!!

It's exciting thoufh

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Absolutely same

Could plan something out meticulously but then change it in the last 2 secs before uploading

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yup... I don't thumbnail much ahead of where I'm at cause of this(edited)

I thumbnail a scene at a time, and then usually I end up changing stuff halfway through ahahfjjdkskdkss

varethane

Same hat, haha. I often make changes at every stage-- even the thumbnails will often depart from the script. If anything, I wish I made even more changes-- I feel like my page layouts tend to be pretty standard, I do a lot of pages with the 3 rows of 2 panels each, and I want to break out of that more. But... well, that's a work in progress.

[shels-kpop-main]

Moments, part 11

Word Count: 3146

Warnings: None. A little angst and fluff so soft

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think! Things will be heating up in the next chapter, but I had to get this last bit of fluff out of my system. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

You stayed in Roger’s room the rest of the night, leaving only to retrieve the plate of food from the living room table. Upon returning with it, you set it on the bed between yourself and Roger, and the two of you shared it. After eating, the two of you stayed up talking for several hours. When you finally reached for Roger’s wrist to check the time, it was almost one in the morning.

But you didn’t leave. You just wove your fingers through Roger’s, and laid over. He did the same, and you fell asleep there. Curled up and facing each other, with your hands meeting in the middle.

You woke up to bright sunlight coming in through the window. You were still laying above the covers, but a wool blanket had been thrown over you and tucked under your feet. Your hand, previously holding onto Roger’s, was now loosely curled around his collar, the backs of your fingers pressed to his chest. You inhaled deeply, still half-asleep, but awake enough to appreciate being surrounded by things that smelled like Roger. Including Roger, who was still sound asleep across from you.

He had an arm draped over your waist, and the other rested next to his face on the pillow. You slowly pulled your hand from his shirt and touched his cheek instead. His face was warm to the touch, and smooth. You brushed your thumb softly from side to side, and this was enough to stir Roger a little. He opened his eyes slowly, only about halfway. His hand pressed to your back a little more firmly as he smiled.

“Morning, love.” His voice was husky from sleep, but it was offset by the look in his eyes. You twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers, and scooted a little closer to him.

“Good morning.”

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, before you got up to go change. You smiled at Roger’s groans of complaint when you rolled out of bed. When you emerged from his room, still wearing your clothes from the night before, you looked down the hallway before hurrying up the stairs. The house was quiet, and it seemed that everyone had gone downstairs for breakfast already.

Which was good; you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. God forbid someone see you coming out of Roger’s room in your clothes from the previous day and think you’d slept with him. It wasn’t anyone’s business, but knowing the guys, they’d tease you both out of the county for getting caught on a walk of shame.

The following week passed in a blur of messily-written new songs, a fresh series of photo prints, and many, many stolen kisses from Roger. He’d often pull you aside after dinner to press a trail of kisses from your mouth to the collar of your shirt. If Roger ducked outside for a smoke break during recording sessions, you’d grab him by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

You’d somehow managed to never be found during these moments aside, but the guys weren’t stupid. They noticed the light smear of lipstick on Roger’s mouth when he came back inside. They noticed the looks you two shared over the dinner table. But you didn’t care. Being around Roger was the closest thing you had ever experienced to happiness with another person.

And however much you didn’t care, Roger cared even less. He mentioned your photography to the guys frequently, telling them about a particularly good (“bloody brilliant, you guys!”) shot you’d taken during rehearsals. He asked Deacy for advice on how to formally ask you out, to which Deacy rolled his eyes but told Roger everything he had done successfully with Veronica.

So, five days after he first kissed you by the fence outside the farm, Roger came to your door with another bouquet of dahlias.

“These are beautiful, Roger. Thank you.”

You beamed at the pretty, pink blooms in Roger’s hand and leaned in to kiss him. He accepted the kiss gratefully, immediately leaning down to you. You fidgeted with his collar, reveling in the sweet and smoky taste that you’d come to associate with Roger. You pulled away to take the flowers to the vase atop your dresser, smiling to yourself.

Roger closed the door behind him while you fiddled with the flowers. When you turned back to him, he was running a hair through his hair nervously.

“Something on your mind?” You raised an eyebrow and walked back over to him. Roger let out a breath, and shoved his hands in his pockets. His body language was starting to make you nervous, and you folded your arms.

“Yes, actually. I, uh… Whew, sorry,” Roger chuckled nervously. You must have looked concerned, but Roger’s face softened, he quickly reached forward to rub your arms.

“Everything’s alright, love,” he assured you, hands settled at your elbows. You gave him a half-hearted smile, still afraid of what he might say next.

“I just haven’t done this in a while with someone I care about,” Roger explained. You were just confused at that point, and waited for him to finish. His hands fell back to his sides.

“I, uh… I wanted to know if you’d like to go to dinner with me?” Roger rushed through the last few words, and it took you a moment to process what he said. But then, when his words hit you, you burst out laughing out of sheer relief. Roger gave you a confused frown, his eyebrows slanting with concern. You placed a hand on your chest, as if to steady your rapidly-beating heart. But then you flung your arms around his neck and kissed him fully.

“Roger Taylor,” you laughed, pulling away, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“What, what’d I do?” Roger smiled a little, putting his arms around your waist. You shook your head, grinning up at him.

“You got all serious, and scared me!” You answered, giving him a light shove to the chest. Roger laughed, and a light blush came to his cheeks.

“Well, I was nervous! Been a moment since I’ve properly asked a girl on a date!” Roger replied, pulling you closer. Your hands fell to his collar, as they often did when Roger was holding you close like that. It was cathartic, in a way, to play with the fabric while you talked to him. It was grounding for the both of you.

“Did you think I would say no?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. Roger shrugged, clasping his hands on the small of your back.

“Well, not necessarily,” he smirked. You shook your head at his cockiness, smiling coyly. But Roger became serious again, brows furrowing.

“So, is that a yes?”

You rolled your eyes, and moved your hands up to weave into his hair.

“Yes, Roger,” you kissed him, “I would love to go to dinner with you.”

So Roger took you into town the following night, insisting that you both dress up for your first date. It was incredibly endearing to watch his face light up when you came down the stairs in your only formal dress. It was a navy blue cocktail dress, and although it wasn’t your favorite look, it gave you great joy to see Roger’s mouth fall open. He fidgeted with his cuffs a little as you approached him, and the thought of this cool, arrogant rock star being nervous for a date made you smile.

Roger drove you to a swanky restaurant in town, telling you to wait while he jogged around the car to open your door for you. The meal went well, and the two of you stayed there, talking and drinking, until well after dark.

You were happy. You and Roger still hadn’t slept together, at his behest, but you hardly had time to be annoyed with him. The two of you spent your free time walking around the farm, arms around each other, talking about anything that came to mind. Late nights stretched into early mornings, with you and Roger usually falling asleep in your room.

At some point, Roger had brought his guitar up to your room, to play you a new song he was trying to write. You loved the song, but sleep overtook you as you lay sideways next to him while he played. Roger simply leaned his guitar against the chair your camera was sitting on, and laid down next to you, falling asleep shortly after.

But those idyllic days on the farm were numbered. And you both knew this. But still, you and Roger enjoyed the bucolic lifestyle that came with staying at the farm.

One day, as the completion of the album drew nearer, you were sitting in the studio box with your camera as the guys recorded in the live room. The phone next to the soundboard rang between takes, and the audio engineer reached over absentmindedly to pick up.

“H’llo? Uh-huh. Yeah, she’s right here.” And with that, the guy handed you the phone and returned to his work. You frowned, holding the receiver, unsure of who would be calling you. But when you pressed your ear to the phone, a familiar voice crackled across the line.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God. Why haven’t you called me?” Your mom sounded fretful. You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Hi, Mom.”

“It’s been two weeks since you’ve called. I was worried sick!”

“I’m sorry, Mom, it’s been crazy here. I didn’t mean to worry you. Did Uncle Jim tell you about my photography?” You attempted to deflect, but your mother was worked up, and ignored your question.

“And when are you coming home? You’ve been there for two months.”

“I don’t know, Mom. Wasn’t the whole point of staying here, to get away from everything?”

Your mom huffed out a sigh. “Well, yes, for a brief escape. Not to just move to England forever!” You rolled your eyes, already finding the conversation overlong.

“I’m not gonna be here forever,” you replied, exasperated. “It’s just that I’m waiting to hear back from the record company. The band’s manager wants to use my photos to promote the album, and they’re going to call any day. To tell me which pictures they want to use,” you trailed off, hoping your mom would appreciate the good news. But she was determined to be upset.

“Have you taken any classes?”

“I—well, no.”

“Gotten a job?”

“Potentially, weren’t you listening?” You were starting to get annoyed.

“It just seems too good to be true. If they like your pictures, what then? You just stay there, with the rock stars? Living in a dream, like you’ve been doing?”

For some reason, that statement really bothered you. Maybe you were just irritable at being faced with reality. Maybe it was the tone she took, or the way she worded it.

But you found yourself more determined than ever to make something of this getaway. Because your time on the farm had become meaningful to you. It wasn’t just an escape. You weren’t just living in a dream.

You were recovering.

Recovering from the shock you’d undergone at the loss of your dad. Recovering from the shift in your worldview. Recovering from the guilt you’d piled on yourself since that day in the hospital room with the beige floors.

“You know what,” you began, through gritted teeth. “It is like living in a dream. I have friends here now. I have Uncle Jim. I have—”

You looked up at that moment, to see Roger in the live room. He was saying something to Brian, a wide smile across his face. The sight of him brought you out of the haze of anger, and you experienced a splitting moment of clarity. No matter what, being here was worth it.

“I have everything I need here,” you finished, in a gentler tone. Mom exhaled, and you heard it, miles away, across the Atlantic.

“You’re living in a bubble, Y/N. Please come home.”

The sincerity of her tone caused you to falter. Your eyelids fluttered as you pulled your gaze away from Roger. He was joking with Freddie, who was doing a ridiculous pose on the drum risers.

“I will, Mom. When I’m ready.”

“Okay. I love you,” she replied, sounding defeated.

“I love you, too,” you said flatly, and hung up.

You had forgotten you weren’t alone until the sound engineer gave you a concerned side eye. You folded your arms.

“Sorry, Todd. Don’t tell anyone?”

The sound engineer named Todd nodded as he fiddled with the switches on the board. For all his stoicism, you were certain he could keep a secret.

“Thanks.” You left the building with tears in your eyes. Roger looked up toward the control room just as you picked up your camera. He could tell, even at a distance, that something was wrong. He knew your face well enough to tell that you were trying not to cry. You avoided looking at the guys as you exited the control room and ducked through the door without a word.

You were tired of being a mess in front of everyone, so you resolved yourself to sobbing out your frustrations in your bedroom.

Roger was staring at the door the entire time he played, even as the band finished recording their song. He wanted to go after you, but wasn’t sure if you wanted time alone. The guys noticed the funny look on his face, but didn’t say anything. When the session was wrapping up, Brian finally spoke up.

“What happened with Y/N?”

“God knows,” Freddie said, not really paying attention. He was still sitting at the piano, scribbling something on a loose piece of paper. “Anyone up for drinks in town?”

Roger ignored Fred’s question, looking from Brian, to Deacy, to the door you’d exited. Deacy had enough of Roger’s cluelessness, and broke the silence. “Oh for God’s sakes—go after her, Roger,” he told Roger, exasperated, pointing at the door. “See if she needs anything.”

“Right,” Roger responded quickly, rushing to get around his drums. Deacy rolled his eyes, but his heart was warm. Roger’s intentions were good, even if he needed a little encouragement sometimes. He found you in the attic, trying to fix something on your camera that wasn’t broken. By the time you walked to your room, the lump in your throat had disappeared. But you were still uneasy.

“Hey, love,” Roger’s soft voice hummed through the wide room.

“Not now, Roger.”

“Yes, now,” he insisted stubbornly. You frowned at him, still holding your camera.

“What happened?”

“My mom called.”

You were met with confused silence from Roger.

“She said I’m living in a dream, that I can’t stay here forever,” you sighed. It seemed this sentiment had not occurred to Roger either, and his face fell. But after a moment of thought, his eyes sparked.

“Maybe not, but that’s not the end of things. We can make it work,” he told you, looking hopeful and a little excited. You frowned at the floor, then at the Nikon in your hands. Before you realized what you were doing, you pulled the camera to your face. It created a barrier, gave you some control.

But through the lens, you saw Roger sigh and step nearer to you. He reached out and gently pushed the camera down, away from your face. You frowned, refusing to make eye contact.

“Don’t hide. You were so certain before. What happened to that?” His voice was low, gentle. It made you want to cry again.

“My mom,” you answered bitterly, looking him in the eyes. But Roger was confused, and stayed silent.

“She’s got a point, Rog. We’re living in a bubble. Eventually, I’m gonna have to go home, and you’re gonna have to tour.”

“Well, she’s half-correct,” Roger admitted. You frowned, unsure of his meaning. “You’re gonna have to go home at some point. And I’ve got the band. But,” he continued, pulling your camera out of your hands slowly. He set it down on the chair next to his guitar, then returned to you.

“That doesn’t mean we’re living in a bubble right now. This is happening.” He took your hands in his, squeezing them gently. You stared at his fingers, lost for words.

“Hey,” he pulled one hand away, and used it to tilt your chin up. The feeling of his fingers on your face sent tingles down your spine. You stared hard at him, trying not to be emotional.

“Please don’t be sad,” he urged. When you said nothing, Roger released your hands and crossed the room to your dresser. There, he smiled at the most recent flowers he’d given you. They sat in a blue vase, next to your pictures. But between them, sat an old radio. It was a little dusty, having gone unused in a house full of live music.

But Roger turned it on, and tuned it to the first clear station he could find. The small speakers crackled to life, filling the attic with a slow, bluesy song.

I’ve found my thrill On Blueberry Hill When I found you

“Dance with me,” Roger told you, holding out a hand and doing a ridiculous bow. You rolled your eyes, but felt the sting of anxiety fading. So you took his hand, and put your other arm around his neck. Roger was a decent dancer when he wasn’t trying to act a fool, and he guided you in slow circles across the room.

The moon stood still On Blueberry Hill And lingered until My dream came true

The lyrics were sweet, comforting. The melody, coupled with Roger’s fingers drumming softly on your waist, turned your mouth up at the corners. And, without warning, Roger began to sing along, swaying you side to side a little.

“For you were my thrill,” he sang, to your giggling. “On Blueberry Hill…”

You were smiling wide and bright by the time the song ended. Roger finished the dance with a small flourish, lifting your hand and urging you to do a small twirl. Which you did, much to his delight.

Roger grinned at you as he released your hand. You rubbed your arms, and stepped back to him. The next song began, an upbeat swing bop.

“Feel better?” He asked, looking genuinely hopeful. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around you in one of his characteristically comforting hugs.

“Yes,” you mumbled into his shirt. Roger kissed the side of your head, still tapping the beat of the last song onto your waist.

“Good.”

“Thank you,” you pulled back to look at him. Roger answered with a peck to your lips, and a wide grin.

“Any time, love. Can’t have my girl worried.”

Taglist:

@ceruleanrainblues @pietrorunsforme @isabella-bby @todorokis-nipples @killerqueenbucky @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @kenzie-belle @shewantstobreakfree @ishouldbedoingalright @fangirlpterodactylnoises @itssaje @aceslytherinpan @youmakeme-wonder @smilinghardy @dreamer821 @musicprincesslikestorock @fangirlcore @loveofmyloif @mydogisthebest @onevisionliz @benn-seguin-1491 @happy-at-home @rogerinaismyqueen @imamazzellhoe @strawberryfields-forever @letmelivetaylor @boozeleatherandstache

[1112lw]

Every question!!

SDFFSDFG DAM OK SIS

LONG POST AHEAD IF U LITERALLY WANNA KNOW ME PERSONALLY JUST READ THIS LMFAO

1: Name: Arche/Jupiter, my close friends know my real name so!

2: Age: High school has just been done so try to guess

3: Fears: Heights, oral presentations, the dark

4: 3 things I love: Drawing, men- concept art n stuff like that

5: 4 turns on: Oh here we go- uhh thighs, messy hair? when they give u The Look or when they. say things i will not talk about here HHGBDF n uhhh Arms 👀👀

6: 4 turns off: weird macho attitude, overly confident bullshit, being selfish and fuckboys in general

7: My best friend: not sure what this means but my bff is named Daphnée n i love her and ive known her my whole life so 

8: Sexual orientation: homosexuale

9: My best first date: :))))))) as if

10: How tall am I: sigh. I’m 5″4

11: What do I miss: sometimes i miss the feeling loved ig

12: What time were I born: 12:19

13: Favourite color: pink!

14: Do I have a crush

15: Favourite quote: My senior quote!! “if what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, I’m telling you I’m immortal”

16: Favourite place: well? my room ig? I like my yard too

17: Favourite food: ugh ramen,,,korean dishes are TASTE as fuck but i also like classic ass spaghetti so like lol

18: Do I use sarcasm: does it look like i dont

19: What am I listening to right now: dr.phil LMFAO

20: First thing I notice in new person: Hair and eyes!! also how they laugh

21: Shoe size: Like. a 7-8 in women’s 6 in men’s 

22: Eye color: Hazel/Golden yes bitch let me be special

23: Hair color: it’s either dark brown or golden brown idk

24: Favourite style of clothing: bruv its either kpoppie fuckboy or uwu skirts pastels

25: Ever done a prank call?: no i have anxiety

26: Meaning behind my URL:

27: Favourite movie: rise of the guardians and HTTYD

28: Favourite song: Comeback Home (BTS cover)

29: Favourite band: looks in the camera i dont know nan molla huh

30: How I feel right now: I’m fine im hungry

31: Someone I love: shoutout to my babeys in my server ily

32: My current relationship status: Single(tm)

33: My relationship with my parents: theyre fine ig just a bit tired

34: Favourite holiday:

35: Tattoos and piercing I have: Ear piercings? that’s it

36: Tattoos and piercings I want:

37: The reason I joined Tumblr:

38: Do I and my last ex hate each other? I sure hope not?

39: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? A bit ig?

40: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? Literally no

41: When did I last hold hands? Like last Friday

42: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? 20 minutes

43: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? no i havent shaved in like months

44: Where am I right now? in my room, in quebec, canada

45: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? bitch i sure hope my friends would

46: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? fuck my ears 

47: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? yeah

48: Am I excited for anything? yeah? yeah

49: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? ig? always

50: How often do I wear a fake smile? just at work tbh

51: When was the last time I hugged someone? not long ago i cant tell but my friends r cuddle monsters so 

52: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? i havent kissed anyone so 

53: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? lemme think uhhh no not rlly im not dumb 

54: What is something I disliked about today? i woke up n i thought i had school lol

55: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? oh john cock i want to be ur best friend

56: What do I think about most? i daydream 24/7

57: What’s my strangest talent? uhhh i can put my thumb behind my hand?

58: Do I have any strange phobias? trypophobia, if thats “weird”

59: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? depends on what the video is, mostly behind

60: What was the last lie I told? idk answering to my deadname

61: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? online

62: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I slightly believe in ghosts? also aliens GOTTA exist so 

63: Do I believe in magic? i think!

64: Do I believe in luck? yeah

65: What’s the weather like right now? very pretty i filmed a video outside!!

66: What was the last book I’ve read? L’Étranger d’Albert Camus in french class

67: Do I like the smell of gasoline? yes my dad’s a mechanic

68: Do I have any nicknames? a lot a lot

69: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? bitch @ my birth #neverforget 

70: Do I spend money or save it? i have 40$ in my name right now

71: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? no

72: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? yes highlighter

73: Favourite animal? cats or otters

74: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? FBISDFD NO WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT

75: What do I think is Satan’s last name idk he can have any last name he wants!!!

76: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? everytime i start hearing “waiting for you anpanman” or “i just wanna go home” 👀👀

77: How can you win my heart? aaahh. be a twink. b fashionable. b funny. cheesy. pls romance me like a npc in the sims 2

78: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? s(he) died smh

79: What is my favorite word? cunt is SUCH a satisfying word

80: My top 5 blogs on tumblr? oh great uh honestly cant be fucked 

81: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? please have brain. PLEASE

82: Do I have any relatives in jail? i sure hope the fuck not?

83: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? either invisibility or mind reading

84: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? ahaaa “what are your intrusive thoughts”

85: What is my current desktop picture? my lesbian sims getting married LMFAO

86: Had sex? no

87: Bought condoms? no

88: Gotten pregnant? NO

89: Failed a class? i think yeah maths last year

90: Kissed a boy? :(((

91: Kissed a girl? no

92: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? no

93: Had job? I have a job rn so 

94: Left the house without my wallet? yeah when i go to school

95: Bullied someone on the internet? define bullying?

96: Had sex in public? virgin squad

97: Played on a sports team? yeah

98: Smoked weed? no ew

99: Did drugs? no ew

100: Smoked cigarettes? NO EW

101: Drank alcohol? yep 

102: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? no i’d die

103: Been overweight? i’m twig

104: Been underweight? i think i was underweight when i was young? i was very Small

105: Been to a wedding? yes very long boring

106: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? bruh. everyday

107: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? probably?

108: Been outside my home country? ONCE

109: Gotten my heart broken? TWICE !

110: Been to a professional sports game? yesss canadians game!!

111: Broken a bone? no

112: Cut myself? not technically 

113: Been to prom? SOON SOON SOON SOSOSNSBFSHDD

114: Been in airplane? once

115: Fly by helicopter? i am not rich bitch

116: What concerts have I been to? noneeee- WAIT NO MARIE MAI

117: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? not sex but for the purpose of pretending i have a penis yes plenty

118: Learned another language? yeah!! i learned english, i almost learned spanish and i’m trynna learn korean now

119: Wore make up? i try!! but i’m not super good

120: Lost my virginity before I was 18? not 18 yet but it’s goin that way

121: Had oral sex? as if 

122: Dyed my hair? i wishhh

123: Voted in a presidential election? I WISH THE ELECTIONS R ONE MONTH B4 MY BIRTHDAY 

124: Rode in an ambulance? nope

125: Had a surgery? yes at a week old 

126: Met someone famous? i think yes but i was super small

127: Stalked someone on a social network? define stalked?

128: Peed outside? yes

129: Been fishing? YES

130: Helped with charity? i think? we do volunteering so 

131: Been rejected by a crush? not directly

132: Broken a mirror? no 

133: What do I want for birthday? boyf......boy..boyff

134: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? oh man uhh maybe 2-3, i dont know their names yet honestly

135: Was I named after anyone? MY DAD NAMED ME AFTER A FUCKIN CLIENT HE MET. as for my actual name now I named myself after my fav video game character. lit

136: Do I like my handwriting? yeah!!

137: What was my favourite toy as a child? bitch hot wheels

138: Favourite Tv Show? hells kitchen,,,,judge judy,,,anythin like that

139: Where do I want to live when older? honestly i wish i could just live in japan or tokyo, or new york? but i will most likely end up in montreal 

140: Play any musical instrument? i used to play the clarinet last year!!

141: One of my scars, how did I get it? the one on my knee, i scratched my desk with my knee 

142: Favourite pizza toping? my dad makes AMAZING sea food pizzas,,,

143: Am I afraid of the dark? a lot

144: Am I afraid of heights? A LOT

145: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? idk prolly? im a bit of a goody two shoes or however u spell it

146: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end: dont we all

147: What I’m really bad at: organizing my anxiety n shit i get overwhelmed

148: What my greatest achievments are: finishing high school 

149: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: honestly has to be that time someone dug up my vent post about being dysphoric to try to say i hated myself with some dumbass DySphorIa Is SelF HaTRed argument

150: What I’d do if I won in a lottery: pay my parents’ debt off, buy 284223$ of BT21 merch, pay my whole college/uni and transition

151: What do I like about myself: idk i like how i literally do not give a fuck anymore and ive learned to love myself instead of trynna care

152: My closest Tumblr friend: @peptobismol-official​ @ace-landofthesun​ @dorkalisious​ and ana but idk her @ anymore :((( ana pls

153: Something I fantasise about: we dont talk about that

154: Any thoughts on the paranormal?: lit. please stop crawling in my ceiling !

ok now that u know my whole biography. go doxx me ig. bye bye

[platinumshawnn]

strong | Shawn Mendes

Synopsis: Shawn having a talk with his premie daughter in the NICU.

A/N:  I have been trying to think of some sort of way to re-enter the world of writing about Shawn as I took a long hiatus (writer’s block and lack of motivation) and only just finally decided upon an idea of dad!Shawn to welcome myself back.

Word count: 1,538

 She was puny and red under the harsh fluorescent lights, fists barely the size of two of his fingertips and covered in wires that monitored her everything; white tape across her upper lip to hold a breathing tube in place up her little button nose. Her mouth was slightly parted, a slight frown on her face as she turned her head away from him, causing her hat to fall out of place on her head as it was way too big yet for her -- with a small smile, Shawn reached into one of the holes designed for arms to go in and out of, the closest to contact he had yet come with his daughter as he adjusted her hat back onto her head, his index finger lightly brushing her right cheek. Everything was too big for her yet. She looked preposterously small in the heated incubator, surrounded by hospital blankets that kept her in place, directly in the middle of the machine that was one among probably a hundred others; some occupied, a few he had noticed on his way in the very first time. But none of them were nearly as tiny as the little girl whose legs kicked around, eyes still closed as he carefully found one of her hands, holding it between his fingers, careful not to hurt her.

 She was fragile, Christ, was she ever. Both of them knew what to expect when they found out there was no postponing this, no way of getting her just to stay put for a little while longer when the doctor had finally come in and checked his girlfriend over, his face saying everything without words. She would be seven weeks early. Shawn had immediately started to think about how small she would be, would she fit her clothes back home? They never expected her to be this early and had bought for 0-3 months, some even 3-6 months so she could grow into them and when his eyes landed on her for the very first time, he knew it would be a long time until she could fit anything that they had gotten her; any of the clothes that were neatly placed away in her drawers. Shawn had lingered on the sight of little Gianna’s going home outfit that had been packed in the baby bag, holding it and looking at it as he pondered every possible question and scenario, wondering how his little girl was doing while his girlfriend slept; still hooked up to an IV drip, exhausted and worn from hours of sobbing and distraught cries, asking if Gianna was okay, what was going on, blaming herself like she had done something wrong. Like she could have prevented this somehow.

 They had allowed (Y/N) a few minutes to hold her after much consideration, her skin still pink and tiny as she laid against her chest, toes wiggling and little fists un-clenching and clenching with her eyes still closed. The time had gone by too quick and then she was being whisked away, leaving the two teenagers to stress over her well being and watch from a distance, leaving her in a bunch of stranger’s hands while nurses played messenger. Shawn, despite being exhausted, had remained awake long after (Y/N) had fallen asleep, tired out from all the crying and the long, grueling day today had turned into. He had waited to pull out the little wool outfit that consisted of brown leggings with hearts all over them and a wool sweater and a matching brown hat that his mother had bought them for her during the tiny spontaneous baby shower (Y/N)’s friends had thrown for them just a week earlier; head tilted and sighing.

 He had sat there like that a few hours longer, waiting until seven while (Y/N) was still asleep to go get himself a coffee from the cafeteria before making his way to the NICU; tired eyes and soft smiles as he bid good morning to doctors and nurses, other hospital staff, as he left his coffee on a table near the door and sanitizing his hands. He’d had to be shown to her bed, having never seen her yet, realizing much less had he not even held her -- he’d been too scared when they’d offered her to him before she was taken away, afraid he would mishandle her, hurt her because of how much bigger he was to her. He could easily just hold her in her hands and she would perfectly fit. It had sank in how real this was when he had held his hand over her, her body just a bit longer than his hand, skinny limbs and unable to breathe on her own yet.

 The smile was wiped from his face immediately by the realization, sitting back in his chair with a blank, glazed over look as he watched her, the room quiet aside from the beeping of monitors throughout the room that hung over each of the beds for each infant.The comments from the nurse earlier, explaining how she was doing had kind of gone in one ear and out the other because he just wanted to see his daughter, judge for himself how well she was because he was so desperate to say she was fine so they could just go home, he really hadn’t realized… it was about more than just her physical being. She wasn’t in the worst condition but it was an unpredictable case because things could go south in seconds, and the best place, despite his want to be selfish, for her to be was right there. In that bed.

 Shawn let out a soft, short laugh suddenly. “You...incredible, strong being you…” He said in a quiet voice, his exhaustion weighing heavy on his shoulder. “You are quite the wonder. The nurse said yesterday was rough for you. Had to have a lot of shots, said you stopped breathing a couple times but you came screaming back to life every time. Your mom and I have been worrying about you all night.” He tiredly rambled, reaching in hesitantly to find her left hand; tiny fingers grasping weakly and twitching around the digit.

 “You were quite the surprise, you know.” He admitted, head tilting left and eyes still on Gianna. “Your mom got sick right all over my brand new shoes during tour and we just had this funny little feeling, you know...maybe it was you. Maybe you were in there. We didn’t know for sure because I was on tour and there just wasn’t many opportunities to go to the doctor’s or grab a test, but over time, it became obvious. I might have been a mess in ways and super naive before but the minute we found out about you, your mum whooped me into shape. Straightened me out.” He said, recalling the memory with a soft laugh.

 “She’s a strong woman, your mom, you know. I bet you know that already though. Probably better than anybody because I mean, she made you, like she carried you and gave birth to you all on her own. She’s always been tough.” He said, shaking his head and slipping his hand out of her grasp to gently stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You got that from her obviously. Your strength. It’s incredible, you’re barely a day old and you’ve already inherited her strength and done some pretty big things. And look, if you’re scared, because they told us you may have to have some surgery to help you out...I’m scared too, but you gotta be strong for us both. Just this one time, because once you go in there, I can’t do anything for you. I’ll be stuck in the waiting room worrying and losing my mind so you need to be strong.” He quietly said, sighing.

 “You can’t understand me I realize, not yet.” He said, laughing stiffly at himself. “Still. We’re gonna need you to come right back out, alive and well, you gotta promise me. Your mother especially is going to need you, she can’t put up with me forever on her own, she needs more common sense at home. You just gotta promise you’ll come right back out, just as you are -- maybe a little better, maybe stronger. And even if it gets really scary in there, you have to...and know that when you come out, you’ll have someone right outside those doors who loves you. Me and mom will be here waiting for you.” He finished, going silent and swallowing thickly, leaning back in his chair and taking his hand back. With a yawn, he sighed and stood.

 “Should probably get back to your mom, she’s probably up now and I should try and get some sleep too.” He said, hand resting on top of the incubator and inhaling deeply, deeply sighing. “I’ll be back later, both of us maybe. Love you, little bear.” He softly said, hesitating before he turned to retrieve his coffee from the table and exit, bumping into other entering parents who were arriving to visit their own kids, nodding them a ‘good morning’ on his way out.

[forever-rogue]

Blend In - Part V (Finale)

Summary: Y/N had always been an expert at blending in. That was until Bucky found out her secrets and encourages her to deal with all her demons.

A/N: Thank you all for your support on this little series! It means the world to me! If you have any requests or anything, feel free to send them in!

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, self harm, eating disorders

PART I | PART II | PART III | PART IV

It had been 3 months since Y/N’s shocking reveal to the rest of the Avengers team.

Immediately afterwards she had regretted ever confessing any of her secrets and wished she had just remained quiet and stayed out of everyone’s way, but now, finally on the other side of things, she was happy she was found out and forced to face her demons.

That following morning, she had packed up her things, with the assistance of Bucky, and was sent on her way to a rehabilitation facility a few hours away in the countryside of New York. Tony had, of course, pulled a few strings and gotten her a spot at one of the best facilities around. After her bags had been packed and taken out the car, she said her goodbyes to everyone, holding back her tears. She was worried about how things would be when she returned; would they treat her differently, would they even want to work with her anymore?

Y/N turned to Bucky and gave him a small smile and wrapped her arms around him. He felt so warms and solid; she knew she would miss him most of all. A few tears spilled over and she made to wipe them away quickly but he beat her to it, gently wiping them away with his thumb.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she confessed as he rested his forehead against hers. She inhaled deeply, trying to remember his warm scent.

“I’m going to miss you too,” he agreed, “but it won’t be forever. You’ll be back before you know it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he pulled back and reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope, “this is for you. This is for if you ever feel like you want to give up  and quit.”

Y/N took it out of his hand and held it against her chest. She knew she had a long road ahead of her, but the love she was feeling from him made it seem like it would be less hard. She was ready to get better and come back to him and the rest of the team.

“Bucky, this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me,” she leaned up and kissed his cheek, “I can’t want to come back and see you”

“I know, Y/N. I’ll be counting down the days,”

“Ms. Y/L/N? We’re ready to leave,” the driver had finished putting her bags into the car and was holding the back car door open for her.

“Goodbye for now, Buck,” she gave him one last quick hug and headed over to the car. She hesitated for a moment and got in, the door being closed after her.

Bucky watched the car drive away into the distance and let out a heavy sigh. He turned around and headed back into the tower where he found Steve waiting for him.

“She’ll be okay, Buck,” he patted his best friend on the shoulder and pulled him into a hug, “I know how much care for her. But when she’s back she’ll  be better than ever.”

“I know, Steve. Now we just have to wait and focus on other things,” he agreed, thankful for the support, both spoken and unspoken, from his closest friend.

It was about halfway through her treatment when Y/N felt like she had a hit a wall. The first month and a half had been great, and she was making all the progress she needed. The angry red marks that had covered her skin were still there, but they weren’t as red and swollen and fresh anymore. They were slowly fading and new ones hadn’t been added. She had put on about ten pounds, something that took all her effort not to obsess over. She still had  ways to go, but this was progress, this was a good start.

The daily therapy sessions, both with others and alone, seemed like a waste at first but she slowly grew to like them and she there benefit. At first thinking about talking to a complete stranger about all the demons in her head seemed like the opposite of what she wanted to do. But after a few sessions she started liking talking to someone who wasn’t going to judge her and just wanted to help her.

She observed all the other people that were in the program with her, young men and women of all different backgrounds, and realized that how she must have looked to other people. They had all appeared so frail and scared and helpless at first, but just like her they were all trying to get better, and that motivated her too.

One night, however, she felt a pang of regret for going to rehab. For dinner they were all in the communal hall, dining on pizza and bread sticks. As she looked down at her plate, a memory came into her mind of one of the few times she had had dinner with both of her parents, which had ended up in a huge screaming match between them. She was a young teenager at the time, but she remembered how bad and awful she felt sitting at the table, picking at her pizza, while her parents’ screaming was going on.

Y/N stared at the pizza for a moment before pushing it away and headed back to her room. She slammed the door shut behind her and huddled up on her bed, clutching her knees to her chest. She wondered why she was even there; there was no point to anything and people would never change, so why should she bother?

Y./N closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths; she knew this she couldn’t give into the demons again and she knew she was needed to do this. She remembered the letter Bucky had given her before she left, now was the first perfect time to read. It was like he must have known she would reach this point and maybe it was needed, a turning point of sorts.

She opened the envelope and read over his beautiful scrawl.

Y/N,

I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you. But I can tell you how proud I am of you for doing this. I could tell that finally coming out and asking for help but hard for you, but I am so glad you did. I know you will get better, you can do this. You’re so much stronger than you know.

I know how it feels to be the outsider and thinking you’re not good enough for others or wondering if they’d ever accept you. It’s been a process been for me to get comfortable around people again, but slowly it has gotten better. You don’t have to blend in and be on the outside, you deserve love and respect just like everyone else. We’re all here for you and will help and support you however we can.

Just know that I will be waiting for the day you come home and I can kiss you again. I’m counting down the days just like you are, undoubtedly we all are. We’re your family and your home will always be with us.

All my love,

Bucky

Y/N didn’t even stop the tears from running down her face. The words he had written resonated so much with her, and to know that there were people who loved her and cared about was more than she could have dreamed of. Bucky had known exactly what to say to make her feel better and give her a push in the right direction.

She couldn’t wait to get and see him either. It was only another 45 days to go.

The remainder of her treatment seemed incredibly long and grueling, but was rewarding as well. She had made so much more progress, but Y/N knew she had a long way to go. Outpatient therapy and work would be the hardest, but she felt ready for the challenge. She was still going to go and see a therapist once a week, but she knew being around her team, her family, would help too.

On the drive back to the Avengers Tower, she grew nervous and started fidgeting. How would the team react to seeing her? Her appearance had changed pretty drastically while she was away. She no longer felt the need to wear long sleeves all the time, but had opted for a short sleeved dress. The marks were continuing to fade and throw the help of scar gel were slowly becoming less noticeable. Her face was not has thin and sharp as it used to be. She she put on a total of twenty five pounds, still a little under her goal, but much better than she used to be. To celebrate her success had decided to get a drastic haircut; gone were her mid back length locks, replaced by a shoulder length still she couldn’t (and didn’t want to) hide behind.

The most important important of her change, though, was the fact that she wore a smile on her face, a smile that actually reached her eyes.

She wondered how it would feel to hug Bucky again, if he still smelled the same way she remembered. She smiled to herself as she pictured their reunion. She had been a little sneaky and had told the team she would be home late that night, rather than early in the afternoon she could go in and surprise them.

“We have arrived Ms. Y/L/N,” the driver pulled her out her thoughts. She looked out the window and saw the familiar entrance to her home.

“Perfect,” she smiled and opened the door. She quickly tried to get herself together and told herself not to be nervous.

“Shall I bring your bags up?”

“Oh no, please, I can get them,” she offered him smile as she opened the trunk and pulled out the two bags, “thank you though.”

“Anytime,” he gave her a small wave and headed back to the car, “give Mr. Stark my regards!”

“Will do!” She grinned at him and watched him drive away and got headed into the tower.

She headed into the elevator and pushed the button for their floor. She hoped they would all be home. She hummed to herself as she waited for the familiar ding. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors slowly opened. She stepped out and listened for a few moments, trying to see if she could hear anyone. Slowly, familiar voices reached her ears as she realized they were in the kitchen/living room. She set her bags down and quietly padded her way over to them.

When she reached them, they were all laughing about something. She walked into the living room, and behind the couch where some of them were sitting.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked as she leaned onto the couch. Steve and Sam jumped a little as she startled them. They turned around with big grins on their faces as they realized it was her.

“Y/N!” They both jumped up and pulled her into for a big hug. She grinned as she hugged them back, glad she was finally home.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” Nat stuck her tongue as she walked over and gave her a hug.

“Surprise!” Y/N grinned as Wanda and Vision came over and greeted her as well.

“It’s great to see you again, kid,” Tony walked into the room, as he must have heard the communication from everyone, Bruce quickly following in his footsteps.

“I’m so glad to see you guys again. I’m so ready to be home,” she was overwhelmed by all of their love.

“It’s good to have you back,” Steve agreed, “missions are hard without you.”

“Oh thanks,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “have you guys seen Bucky?”

As if one cue, Bucky walked back into the room, muttering something about being out of popcorn. He stopped in his tracks as he realized Y/N was standing in front of him. He face broke out in a huge grin and he closed the distance between them, “Y/N!”

Y/N reveled in his warm grasp as she tightened her grip around his shoulders. The rest of the team slowly and quickly exited and let them have their moment.

She pulled back and studied his face for a moment. She had missed his bright blue eyes. He hesitated for just a second before he pulled her back in and kissed her deeply. Y/N grinned into the kiss and realized just how much she had been missing him. They only pulled apart when they finally needed air.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered as he his cupped her cheeks, “I’ve been looking forward to that for the last ninety days.”

“Buck, I’ve missed you too. Your letter was beautiful. It definitely helped me,” she put her hands over his hands as she leaned forward to give him another quick kiss.

“I knew you could it. You’re such a strong person,”

“I had moments of doubts, plenty of them. But I knew I had to get better, and I wanted to come back home to my family,” she concentrated her gaze on him, “and to you.”

“I’m glad you’re back. You look so well, I know it must have been hard, but I’m glad you stuck it out.”

“It took me a long time, but I realized I had people that care about and I have a purpose. It’s still going to be a long road, but I know I can do it.”

“I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” he promised her.

‘I know, Buck. I’ve got a question for you,”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, and it’s an important one,” she chuckled at the worried look that crossed his face, “will you go to dinner with me? You know, like a proper date?”

“Oh! Of course, I would be delighted,” he grinned down at her. He leaned down and kissed her again, both of them feeling the sparks rush between them.

“Get a room!” They stopped when they heard Steve yell at them. They turned around and saw the rest of the team watching them from the doorway.

They looked at each other and grinned as they walked out of the room. Bucky reached for her hand and entwined their fingers. They headed to the elevator, discussing where they should go for dinner, as the rest of the team cheered them on.

Even though it would be a long road for Y/N, she knew she had all the support she needed. And in that perfect moment, she felt like nothing was impossible.

Taglist: @superserumstark @ruinerofcheese @amieleahx @buckybear5 @ssweet-empowerment @nairobi13 @markandjackaremysuperheros @sexysamsungl

[blue-mint-winter]

SW prompts -- I enjoyed very much your twisted Daala and Kyp thing. So perhaps more of that? Or generally something with Daala being not incompetent for once would be nice.

After so long, I finished this story! Thanks for the prompt!

FFnet link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12777283/1/Night-on-the-Knight-Hammer

Summary: AU of Darksaber. Kyp is captured by Daala’s forces again.

It’s long and contains torture and other dark stuff, so I put it under the read more, if you prefer reading on tumblr. I can also post on ao3 if anyone requests it.

Night on the Knight Hammer

.

Even before his formal training, Kyp Durron followed his instincts, the subtle nudges that saved his life countless of times in the mines of Kessel. After he became a Jedi, he heard Master Luke always saying to trust in the Force. Kyp felt and believed that the Force had some destiny in mind for him, so it was only natural that he followed its call.

Now it led him and his closest friend, Dorsk 81, into the Deep Core systems. Rumours were floating around about the Empire mustering its forces and preparing another attack and as the Jedi, they had to get to the bottom of this.

That’s how they found the nexus station where the Imperial troops gathered. Kyp and Dorsk 81 blended in the crowd at a rally to gain more information on the enemy’s plans before they returned to the New Republic with the warning. At least that was the plan before the one behind the attack was revealed.

Kyp saw that angular, cruel face multiplied around him on the vidscreens, the face that still haunted him at night, and then he saw red. Admiral Daala couldn’t possibly be alive!

But, against all odds, there she was—standing proud, looking over her cheering troops as she delivered the speech that declared the New Republic’s imminent destruction at her hands.

Kyp couldn’t take it. He shouted—out of disbelief, shock, and sheer revulsion—and drawn attention to himself and Dorsk 81. The stormtroopers swarmed the two Jedi, who tried to run, but soon their path to the docking bay was cut off. Kyp slashed around madly, causing carnage among his enemies.

“Run! I’ll hold them off!” he yelled to Dorsk.

“Kyp, I can’t leave you behind!” his friend protested.

Kyp used a Force push to clear the way. “Go! You have to warn the Academy!”

Dorsk reluctantly ran off. Kyp stayed behind to prevent the stormtroopers from going after his friend. He grinned ferociously and used the tip of his lightsaber to make a circle around himself, keeping the enemies at bay.

“Come on! Bring it on!” he challenged them.

They didn’t charge at him. The Force warned him about an incoming attack and he turned around to block it, but instead of a blaster bolt, he was caught in a net. He cut through it, but more came at him, binding his limbs. He trashed like a fish out of water, trying to free himself, then he felt a prick on his neck. Tranquilizer! He realized as his body became sluggish and unresponsive and he fell unconscious.

The stormtroopers quickly took his weapons and commlink. They slapped the binders on his wrists and ankles and gagged him. One could never be too cautious with those crafty Jedi.

“The Jedi was taken into the custody, Admiral,” the Sergeant reported.

“Good. Bring him to me,” Daala replied. She changed the channel on her comm. “This is Admiral Daala to all the ships—catch the other Jedi! I don’t want him to leave this system. Shoot him down if you have to, just don’t let him leave! Daala out.”

Her attention was drawn to the group of stormtroopers carrying the prisoner towards her. Daala easily recognized the boy who had once gotten away from her. A full-blown smirk appeared on her face. It seemed the fate was in her favour today. She wouldn’t have to pick through the ashes of Yavin IV to find his remains. Instead, she would exact her revenge on him at her own leisure.

Daala licked her lips and ordered the young Jedi to be shuttled on board her Super Star Destroyer, recently rechristened as the Knight Hammer.

.

A boot in the gut revived him instantly.

Kyp groaned and reflexively tried to curl up, but the tight restraints didn’t allow him to. He opened his eyes, disoriented, and saw the ceiling of the Imperial holding cell.

Must be a bad dream, he thought groggily.

Another heavy stomp to his stomach had him gasping for air. The pain took away his ability to think for a short while as he fought through it. He was going to have a big bruise there, but at the moment that was the least of his worries.

“I assure you all of this is real, Jedi. Or would you like my men to kick you again?”

The sound of that woman’s voice had a better sobering effect than a thousand kicks. Kyp whipped his head to the right. Daala was standing there flanked by two stormtroopers, her lips crooked in a cruel amusement as she gazed at her helpless prisoner.

“You,” he ground out with loathing.

“That’s admiral Daala to you, Jedi scum,” a stormtrooper said and made to kick him again, but Daala raised a hand to stop him.

“It’s fine. We know each other,” she said. “Don’t we, Kyp?”

Hearing her say his first name so familiarly filled him with disgust which in turn made him angry.

“You tortured me!” he spat out. Daala quirked an eyebrow.

“It was only questioning. Believe me, you haven’t seen any real torture… yet.”

Kyp gave her a scorching glare as he simmered in his rage.

“How are you even still alive?” he asked sourly.

“I could ask you the same,” Daala neatly deflected. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I have you in my hands now.” And that she decided about his life and death went without saying.

“When’s the execution?” Kyp cut to the chase. “You can ‘question’ me all you want, I won’t tell you anything, so you might as well stop wasting both of our time.”

Daala put a cold hand on his cheek and stroked his skin lightly. Like he was a fucking house pet. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. There are many other methods of… persuasion,” she said silkily as her thumb rubbed at his lower lip.

Kyp glared but she held his gaze easily, showing that she wasn’t scared. After a long moment, she deliberately stepped away.

“Get him up,” she signaled to her troopers. “We’re going for a walk.”

The Jedi couldn’t quite bite back a groan of pain as he was forcefully stood up. He was frogmarched out of the cell into the stark corridors of a star destroyer.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked when he recognized they actually left the cell block. He turned his head back to see Daala who was right behind him, but the trooper on his left ‘corrected’ his posture with a smack.

“No moving,” the guard warned.

“Walking is moving!” Kyp protested.

A hard hit on the ribs was the answer.

“No talking back.”

Kyp kept silent, having learned his lesson.

The ride on the turbolift was uncomfortable. The space was too small and Daala breathed down his neck. Kyp tried to inch away from her, but quickly gave up when the guards noticed. He definitely didn’t want to get punched for nothing. He was smarter than that!

He could have attempted meditation, however a hand on his back deprived him of all the serenity he could muster and replaced it with a growing dread. His heart thudded in his chest as the hand slid down along his spine teasingly. It stopped at his lower back and his fervently hoped this was the end and she only meant to scare him… but then the hand moved down and pinched hard. Kyp yelped in surprise.

“Quiet!” the stormtrooper barked at him.

Kyp nodded, wide-eyed as the hand felt him up, grabbed and squeezed aggressively until the turbolift stopped the ascent and the door opened.

They arrived on the bridge.

Daala smoothly passed by him and took the lead. Kyp knew he didn’t imagine that smug smirk on her face.

“Admiral,” the captain greeted her.

“At ease,” she said and gestured for the guards to bring Kyp closer.

They were at a viewport overlooking a green-blue globe with a very familiar shapes of landmasses.

“Do you recognize this planet?” she asked.

Kyp swallowed thickly.

“No, not really.”

Daala gave a signal to the guards and one of them swiftly hit him while the other kept him upright.

“Even if you weren’t lying, it would interest you that we tracked your Jedi friend’s ship here.”

Kyp didn’t take the bait and stayed resolutely silent, focused on breathing evenly as he managed the pain in his center.

“Khomm… Such a pathetic little planet, full of pacifists and cowards. What would a Jedi need there?” Daala tapped her chin in a mock-consideration.

If Dorsk 81 is on the planet, he can hide. Stormtroopers won’t be able to tell him apart from the other Khommites, Kyp thought hopefully as he reached out in the Force to his friend. He got a vague blip of a presence but it was enough to fill him with relief. As long as Dorsk 81 was free, he could send the message to the Academy and the New Republic military.

“You won’t find him,” Kyp said with renewed confidence.

Daala’s eyes lit up, like she was just waiting for this moment. “Give me the mayor,” she ordered the comm specialist on the bridge.

The screen was turned on, showing the face of Kaell 116, the political leader of the Khomm capital.

“Admiral,” he said with a respectful bow.

“Did you find the criminal?” she asked immediately. Of course she wouldn’t be interested in exchanging pleasantries with those beneath her.

The Khommite didn’t look happy about the small snub, but wisely didn’t react. “Yes, he is transferred into the hands of your men as we speak.”

Kyp couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Khomm willingly collaborated with the Empire! They gave up one of their own, their only pride, just like that?

“You traitor!” Kyp blurted out with utter disgust.

“We’re merely protecting ourselves from outside interference in our way of life, Jedi Durron,” Kaell 116 rebuked the accusations stoically. “Our planet is neutral in galactic conflicts, so we’d like your fleet to leave as soon as our business is concluded,” he addressed Daala, who gave a short nod.

“Oh, we will leave as soon as possible, Mayor, you can rest assured.”

“Then thank you, Admiral, and good day to you.” Kaell 116 gave another bow and the transmission ended.

Daala looked at Kyp with gloating. “You were saying?” she asked and he just glared at her darkly. She won this round.

The admiral pivoted on her heel and marched smartly to the command chair, arms behind her ramrod straight back. The catwalk in the center of the Star Destroyer’s bridge must have been built for the sole purpose of the Imperial command taking walks above the heads of their officers and basking in the sense of power granted by the elevation. Daala certainly took full advantage of the ship’s architecture to exert her complete authority.

She sat in the command chair and crossed her legs. Her boots were polished to the highest shine, which could have blinded Kyp when he was brought by the guards to stand next to her.

Why didn’t she send him to his cell? Staying there in silence, surrounded by his enemies, the young Jedi swallowed down the rising uneasiness. He touched the Force, but it only carried a vague sense of threat. His connection was only tenuous after the beating he had received and he suspected they might have drugged him to dull his extra sense.

Finally, a comm officer turned around. “M'am, the shuttle with the prisoner has docked. He is unconscious.”

“Very well. Put him in the brig. I will deal with him later.”

“Yes, m'am.”

Daala caught Kyp’s stare and smirked knowingly. He was hanging onto her every word and while he was unsure of what she was planning, except knowing that it had to be nothing good, he was relieved to hear his friend was alive.

“Now then,” Daala said in a pleasant, light tone that gave Kyp chills. His bad feelings intensified and the Force swirled in foreboding.

Daala stood up fluidly and activated the comm.

“To the Imperial fleet: this is Admiral Daala speaking. Our time of revenge has come. The weak New Republic and its pathetic allies won’t be able to stop our march of fire and blood as we retake the stolen territories and return them to the Empire. This is the place of the first strike, the first victory. Prepare to commence the orbital bombardment. Target: Khomm.”

“No!” Kyp jolted forward, but the guard’s strong grip restrained him. “You said you’d spare them! You can’t do this!” He would have said more but two merciless punches took out his ability to talk. He sagged in the crushing hold of his captors.

Daala gripped his chin and made him look up at her. “You have no idea what I can do, Jedi. But you will learn,” she spoke with a dark promise in her tone, then let him go.

Kyp glared a hole in her back. “Imperial… liar…” he wheezed out.

She turned to him, eyes flashing dangerously.

“I didn’t lie. I just never said we’ll leave after destroying the planet,” Daala corrected him. “Besides, isn’t this something you would do? I know how you treat your enemies.”

Kyp bristled in outrage. “I’m not a sadistic monster like you,” he spat out.

“Tell that to Carida.”

The words lashed him like a whip to the face. Kyp broke the eye contact and folded in himself.

“It was different,” he said stubbornly.

“You mean more destructive? Causing the star to go supernova was a bit of an overkill, but all in all it was an effective measure. You wiped them all out in one hit. Aren’t you a good little Jedi?” Daala patted him on the shoulder in mock congratulations.

“Khomm doesn’t have any military defenses. They aren’t a threat to you. You don’t have any reason to destroy it, just your own desire to kill,” Kyp accused, finally looking up.

“They are a bunch of cowards and backstabbers. They didn’t even blink when they sold out one of their own. I have no doubt they would do the same to me as soon as the fleet makes the jump. And I will not risk this whole military campaign by showing something as useless and dangerous as mercy.” She said the last word with a contemptuous sneer.

“Admiral, the fleet is ready to fire,” her aide informed.

Daala nodded. “To all ships: fire on my command.”

Kyp cast a desperate look to the green planet visible out of the viewport and grasped at the Force, but he was too weak. The harder he tried, the easier it slipped from his grasp.

“On my count: three, two, one, fire!” Daala gave the order and the turbolasers of every ship in the fleet answered her call. Kyp watched helplessly as the deadly beams pierced the atmosphere and rained on the planet’s surface.

Khomm burned beneath his feet and he could do nothing to stop the carnage. Kyp could only look down with his fists clenched so hard he was bleeding. He felt the tremors of the thousands of deaths tear through the Force as he bore a silent witness to the massacre. It was different than Carida—there had been only a short while of panic, the heightened sense of fear among the Imperials, then a flash and a terrible silence. Here the screams of pain, fear and confusion never stopped echoing in the Force. Every second, Kyp heard new voices as the kill count grew.

His vision blurred and he realized he was crying. But these were the tears of anger, of frustration. He failed as a Jedi and as a sentient being. Khomm was on his conscience just as much as Carida. If he’d only been more careful, he wouldn’t have been caught, wouldn’t have alarmed the Imperials to his presence at the rally. Then they wouldn’t have followed Dorsk 81 to Khomm. The planet was attacked because of Kyp’s incompetence, because he didn’t learn serenity and when he’d seen Daala, he hadn’t contained his reaction like a Jedi should have done.

“M'am, the infrastructure of Khomm is destroyed in 82%,” the aide spoke.

“Can they send a hyperspace transmission?” Daala asked. She tapped her fingers on the armrest of her chair as the officer checked in the data stream from the sensors.

“No, m'am, all the centers capable of the off-world communication were annihilated.”

“What about ships, do they have any they can send with a message?”

“We destroyed the cosmoport. The inhabitants didn’t travel much outside of the system and all the ships equipped with a hyperdrive were registered and assigned a spot in the hangars. They should be under the rubble and if any can be repaired, it would take months.”

“Good.” Daala received the report with a pleased nod. “Stop the fire. Let’s save the energy for worthier opponents,” she commanded.

“Oh, so next time you’ll attack a kindergarten?” Kyp asked loudly.

The whole bridge stilled in silence, gaping at the Jedi and his audacity. But he was beyond caring. He might be called suicidal but he just no longer cared. He glared at the admiral fiercely and caught a twitch of annoyance on her stony face. It was gone in a flash, but he still basked in the immense satisfaction at causing it.

Then Daala threw back her head and laughed. It wasn’t forced, just an outburst of pure amusement at his expense and what was worse, he had no idea what she found so funny. It was Daala, after all.

A creeping worry came over Kyp and stripped him of his short-lived bravery.

“As a matter of fact, yes, this is exactly what I am going to do, little Jedi,” Daala finally told him. “I will attack the kindergarten you came from. The Jedi Academy on Yavin 4. And you will watch it burn just like you watched Khomm.”

The horror shone in his eyes and filled her with a sadistic delight. She gestured to the guards.

“Escort the prisoner back to his cell.”

Kyp didn’t struggle when the stormtroopers pulled him to the exit. They retraced the path from the bridge to the jail area, then threw him inside his cell. Kyp stumbled and didn’t catch his balance because of the stuncuffs. He fell face-first on the floor. The door hissed shut behind him, plunging him into the familiar darkness.

The young Jedi rolled on his back and sat up. He felt around for the wall, scooted closer and leaned against it, pressing his throbbing temple to the cold panels for relief. He was sapped of energy, physically and mentally, but too afraid to sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, the images of Khomm’s destruction haunted him. He still heard the pain in the Force, tasted the copper of blood and bitterness of ashes left by Daala’s rampage. The sensations were even stronger now…

It took Kyp an unknown amount of time (in the dark-shrouded cell it lost its meaning anyway) to realize what this meant. The Jedi let out a surprised soft gasp, then smiled and stretched his thoughts in the Force. It felt more tangible, even if his hold was tenuous and clumsy. He used it to search for Dorsk 81 and to his relief he detected the sleeping presence of his friend nearby. He nudged it, but it remained placid, so he concluded that Dorsk 81 was most likely heavily medicated. On the other hand this meant the other Jedi was still unharmed.

With a renewed hope Kyp put his concentration on the binders.

After a few failed attempts, he slumped over. He was still too weak to open them. But he got nothing else to do, so after a period of rest he went back to trying.

The door hissed open and Kyp shielded his eyes from the bright light that spilled into the cell from the hallway. He heard a droid buzzing. A cold shudder went through him.

“No! Stay away!” he shouted, scrambling back as the Imperial interrogation droid floated closer to him. It was a black ball, just like the one they used on him when he’d been captured in the Maw and, according to Daala, 'questioned’ him. He remembered the injections, electroshocks and the paralyzing pain in every part of his body like nothing he’d ever experienced…

“Get away from me!” Kyp screamed and kicked out at the droid when his back touched another wall. He was backed into the corner, with no way to escape.

The droid clicked menacingly as it dodged the blow, then flew even closer, extending an arm with a needle. Kyp was afraid if he punched at it again, it would not hesitate to jab him with whatever drug it had there. Instead, he reached for the Force desperately. If he managed to shove the droid hard enough, it could get destroyed. Force push was so much easier than taking off the binders, it didn’t need any precision, it could work if he just concentrated…

As he thought that, the droid emitted a high-pitched sound that stunned him for a few precious seconds. Kyp saw the needle coming for his neck, felt the prick on his skin…

Then there was only an excruciating pain.

Something soft was pushed into his mouth and muffled his howling. He barely noticed the stormtroopers grabbing him by the arms and dragging him out of the cell. Everything became a blur of light and dark and the neverending hallways, but above that was always the pulsing, unrelenting agony.

At some point he must have passed out, because a torrent of icy water woke him up. He coughed and sputtered, shivering as the coldness soaked him to the bone. Kyp was bound to a chair in a dark room. The only lamp inside shone right into his face.

“Too bright,” he croaked and licked his lips. His throat was parched.

“Good. We’re not here to make you comfortable, Kyp. By the way, how are you feeling? Any pain?”

Kyp focused and realized that the pain was gone. “Just thirsty.”

“Let me get you some water.”

There was a sound of turning a tap and pouring water into a cup for a few seconds, then footsteps getting closer.

“Here, drink.” The cup was pressed to his mouth.

Kyp opened his lips, but before he could get a sip, the cup was taken away.

“Sorry, changed my mind. I can’t make you too comfortable.”

“Give me my water,” Kyp growled. The guy was playing games with him and it was pissing him off.

“Your water? You must mean the Empire’s water. My water. Nothing here is yours, Jedi scum,” the man sneered. Then his voice turned contemplative. “But, I suppose this water could be yours. A trade. What will you give for it?”

Now Kyp understood his angle. “How about my undying gratitude?” he tried sarcasm.

A hard slap was his reward. “Wrong answer. Where is Luke Skywalker?”

The question surprised the young Jedi. They wanted his master?

“You’ll never beat him,” Kyp said confidently.

“If you’re so sure, then no harm in telling us and getting the water.”

Kyp considered for a moment, but he was distracted by a loud gulping.

“Aaahh, this was refreshing! You sure you don’t want to drink? I think I’m going to get another cup.”

The sound of water so close by, but still outside of his reach, was maddening. Kyp’s throat was as dry as a sandpaper and with every second the Imperial’s suggestion sounded more logical. Really what was the harm in telling something insignificant if it could get him something he needed to survive? Even Master Luke would understand, he was from a desert planet, so he knew the importance of water.

“He’s travelling, I don’t know where.”

“Interesting,” the Imperial said, but didn’t come with the water.

“Hey, I told you!” Kyp raised his voice in frustration and it made him erupt into a fit of dry coughing.

“You didn’t tell me anything, so you don’t get anything.” The interrogator’s boots scuffed the floor as he walked up to Kyp. “The question is: where is Luke Skywalker?” he whispered into Kyp’s ear.

“I don’t know! He was going to different places!”

“Where? Try to remember. You can do it. Where did he go?” the man encouraged him.

“I think… Dagobah. It was days ago.”

“And then he will return to Yavin 4?”

“No… he was going to more places strong with the Force, but he didn’t say where.”

“Come on, where do you think he would go? Think.”

Kyp thought. His head felt warm and fuzzy, but he thought.

“He had a vision on Hoth once. He told us.”

“Dagobah, Hoth… where else would he go?”

“I don’t know. Byss maybe? There aren’t many places like that. Please, just give me the water. I really don’t know anymore.” Kyp pleaded with a scratchy voice and coughed. He tried to swallow, but it was painful because he had no saliva in his mouth.

“Alright, you earned your drink. Bottoms up!”

Finally, finally the cup was pressed to his mouth. Kyp greedily took a huge swallow of the drink. The warm wetness slid down his throat turning it into a burning inferno. Kyp spluttered and spat it out.

“What is this?!” Kyp cried out.

The liquid left a bitter and salty aftertaste in his mouth. It was simply disgusting.

The man burst out laughing. “I told you, this is my water.” The amusement in his voice was driving Kyp crazy.

“It’s not water!”

“It was when I first drank it.”

“What do you-” Kyp cut himself off as the realization finally dawned on him. The bile rose to his throat and he swallowed painfully. “Oh, kriff no… You’re sick!”

The officer didn’t take offense this time. He seemed downright cheerful, in a sadistic sort of way.

“Want to finish it? You won’t get any real water… unless you talk.”

After that the interrogation continued, but Kyp learned his lesson. He fell once for the Imperial’s games and he’d be damned if it happened again. He didn’t trust himself to speak, the risk of something slipping out was too great, so he chose to clamp his mouth shut. He ignored the insistent questions as he tried to connect with the Force and gain strength from it despite the punishing blows he received. Not even the interrogation droid got anything but screams from him as it put him through all kinds of excruciating, inhuman pain known to humans.

Kyp steadfastly refused to speak.

He didn’t know how long he was tortured. He almost passed out a few times, but the interrogation droid wouldn’t allow it, jabbing him with stimulants whenever he started drifting away. The only brief moment of relief happened when the Imperial decided to move him out of the chair to a standing position.

At some point the lamp was turned away and he could see the room. It was drab and the furniture was bolted to the floor, so he wouldn’t have been able to throw it using the Force. The face of the Imperial was entirely unremarkable. He wouldn’t turn heads on the streets of any world. The only thing that set him apart was the sadistic glint in his mud-coloured eyes.

In the middle of yet another session the door was unexpectedly opened. Kyp looked up, hoping against hope, and for a second it seemed to him like a scene from a dream. It appeared as though his prayers were finally answered and the powerful silhouette framed by the light in the doorway came to save him.

The officer turned around too. “What is this disruption? I am doing a delicate work here…” he began saying irately, then caught himself as he glimpsed the person that strode inside confidently. In the same moment Kyp recognized her too and his hope shriveled up and died.

“A-Admiral! Please forgive me, I-I didn’t expect,” the Imperial stammered in a fluster.

“I don’t expect you to have the ability to anticipate my comings and goings, Lieutenant.” Daala waved away his apologies. Genocide put her in a good mood.

“No, of course, m'am.”

“Bootlicker,” Kyp rasped.

“You speak only,” the man said deceptively calm as he came closer, “when you’re spoken to!”

The punch almost turned off the lights for Kyp, but he didn’t lose consciousness. His brain was rattled from the blow and his hearing resembled an old commstation with constant buzzing and losing signal for a while before it stabilized and he could listen to the conversation again.

“I need results, Lieutenant,” Daala said sternly.

“Admiral, this Jedi is very resistant, but with enough time I’m sure I can get him to talk.”

“Your methods are insufficient. There must be a change in our approach,” Daala mused as she took in the sight of the prisoner. He was standing, stripped down to his undergarments, the rest of his clothes laying around him in tatters. His arms were pulled taut upwards and chained to a durasteel bar in the ceiling. His ankles were also chained to the floor. The middle of his body was mottled with dark bruises, welts and cuts and his back wasn’t in any better condition as she found out when she circled him slowly.

Daala came to a stop right in front of the Jedi. Kyp returned her gaze.

“Admiral?” the lieutenant called.

Daala ignored him. Her hand turned Kyp’s face and she examined the black eye he now sported.

“Does it hurt?” she asked mildly, even though they both knew that she didn’t care about it.

“Not as much as the sight of your face.”

Kyp’s whispered insult met a retribution when Daala drove her sharp nails in his sore flesh. He hissed from the sting. She released him after a few seconds and returned her attention to her underling.

“Lieutenant, please remind me, did I tell you to hit the prisoner in the face?”

“No, m'am.”

“Then what were my orders?”

“… To hurt him only below the neck.”

“Are you not able to follow such simple instructions?” she asked scathingly.

The man gave a flurry of apologies and justifications, but she didn’t seem interested in hearing them. “No excuses. You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“If I may ask, who will continue the interrogation?” he dared to question, apparently worried about someone else getting his job and doing it better.

“None of your business,” Daala replied but she was looking at Kyp in appraisal. “Now get out.”

“Admiral,” the officer saluted and hurried out of the cell. He didn’t want to risk angering her any further.

“Finally alone, just the two of us,” she said to her prisoner. “Just like in the old times.”

Kyp grimaced at the reminder of his last stay in her cells. The expression pulled on his aching skin, so he stopped.

“Do you remember my offer from back then? It’s still open.” She slid her gaze down his stripped body, clad in nothing but underwear. It felt like she was touching him, sliding her mental fingers all over his skin. Kyp squirmed, wishing for clothes to hide him from her predatory gaze.

“And my answer is still no,” he said.

“I can change your mind. Teach you obedience,” she remarked with a smirk like she knew something that he didn’t and put a hand on his abdomen. He tried to back away from the touch, suck in his stomach, but she just pressed it a little harder. Her hand rested there like a brand. Then she stroked down to the hem of his underwear. Kyp tensed, dreading what she would do next. Daala looked at him piercingly. His fear spurned her on.

“I remember what you liked,” she said and moved her hand lower, cupping him possessively.

“No! Stop it!” Kyp cried out, thrashing in his shackles, not caring how much it hurt, as long as it would get her hand off him. But instead she grabbed him by the balls so hard that he yelped like a beaten dog and stopped struggling. He was panting harshly, tearful eyes wide with fear as he was aware of her crushing grip.

Daala leaned in. “Last chance. Surrender to me.”

Kyp gulped. “No,” he said, holding his ground, but only because letting her win was ten times more terrifying than any other fate she’d come up with for him.

“Then you will suffer,” she sneered and twisted her hand.

Kyp yowled in pain as he saw dark spots. His body tried to instinctively fold in and protect itself, but the restraints didn’t let it. Even after Daala let go, the pain stayed and even intensified for a while before it began to dull. His eyes were stinging with tears as he looked at her in defiance.

“You can torture me… all you want, Daala… but you won’t get anything from me,” he said.

“I have other means of persuasion, Kyp.” Daala clicked on her commlink. “Bring in the other prisoner.”

Kyp’s heart dropped.

The stormtroopers dragged Dorsk 81 into the cell. He looked like he went through hell, his face was covered in dried blood from the huge cut in his forehead. He was limping on his right leg. They strapped him to the same chair Kyp had woken in.

Daala paced before her prisoners, assessing them. They were both softened up by now. They might claim they could resist her forever, but their spirit was already weakened.

She stood in front of them, Kyp to her right and Dorsk 81 to her left.

“The rules are simple. I will ask you questions and you will answer them truthfully. Disobedience will be punished.” She nodded at the two stormtroopers and they took places behind the prisoners. Kyp heard the buzzing and felt the current that made the hair on his back stand up. He could guess what would be done to him if he didn’t answer.

Kyp looked at Dorsk in desperation and saw him try to smile. He took strength from his friend. They were in this together and they wouldn’t say a word no matter what happened.

“First question is: how many Jedi are there?” Daala began the interrogation. The prisoners remained silent. “Durron, answer me,” she ordered. Kyp didn’t reply.

“I see you are eager for your punishment. Shock him.” Kyp tensed in preparation of another dose of pain but to his horror Daala pointed to her left.

“No!” A surprised scream tore out of Kyp’s throat when the electricity surged through Dorsk 81’s body. He watched as his friend screamed himself raw, overtaken by mad convulsions. Dorsk 81 was like a puppet on a string, contorting unnaturally depending on the whim of his torturer.

Kyp glared fiercely at Daala. “Stop it! I didn’t answer, not him!” he shouted in anger.

“And he’s paying for your disobedience,” she replied.

After a few more seconds she gave a sign and the electricity stopped and fizzled out. Dorsk 81 slumped forward as if his strings were cut. If not for his harsh, nasal breathing, Kyp would have thought the worst.

“That was just a little demonstration. A few more shocks like that and he will die,” Daala explained. “Now talk.”

It was more than clear that she would be glad to administer the shocks herself if Kyp didn’t comply. And yet, he couldn’t just break his loyalty to the rest of the Jedi. He found himself trapped between two terrible choices and no way out. Despair settled over him.

“Well?” Daala prompted.

Kyp slowly opened his mouth.

“Don’t! Don’t… tell her…” Dorsk 81 suddenly rasped.

“But you’re hurt! You’d die!” Kyp protested.

“Don’t worry… I can take it…” Dorsk 81 raised his head slightly and attempted a crooked smile.

“Let’s test that theory,” Daala interrupted. She nodded to the stormtrooper who activated the torture mechanism in the chair.

For ten seconds Kyp watched in horror as his friend was suffering unimaginable, cruel torture. He felt Dorsk 81’s pain through the Force, waves after waves of agony crashing into him and his own nerves responding in a sympathetic reaction. When it stopped, he was on the verge of tears.

“Dorsk 81!” he called out.

“I’m… fine…” his friend replied weakly, like it took all his strength to say so little.

Daala chuckled. “So deluded. You Jedi greatly overestimate your abilities. This is why you’ll get wiped out again.” She turned to Kyp. “Are you going to give me the information or do you prefer to watch your friend’s brain frying? I can do this all day long but I doubt the Khommite will survive it.”

The overwhelming helplessness threatened to overtake him. He destroyed so many people’s lives, killed his own brother. Letting his best friend die like this made less sense with every moment.

“No matter what you do here, the Jedi Academy will be destroyed. The only one you can save here is your friend here. Choose,” Daala pressed.

“No!… Kyp… trust… the Force…” Dorsk 81 said with difficulty.

Kyp reached out. The Force was shifting around him restlessly and slipping from his grasp like an eel. He realized there would be no miraculous rescue this time, no daring smuggler would bust the door open and let him out and no Jedi Master would hear his cries for help. He looked at his mangled, barely clinging to life best friend and swallowed thickly.

“Okay… I’ll tell you what you want, just don’t hurt him,” he said quietly.

“Kyp, no!” Dorsk 81 stared at him in disbelief and betrayal.

Kyp lowered his head in shame. “I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t let you die here.”

“Betraying the Jedi for a friend. How sweet,” Daala mocked.

Kyp didn’t have the strength to answer. Daala looked him over.

“Very well. If you lie, he dies.”

Kyp nodded sharply. He knew she would execute Dorsk 81 without hesitation.

“Start talking,” Daala ordered.

And to his eternal shame, Kyp broke for the second time under the Imperial interrogation and told her everything he knew.

At first, he grappled for words and stumbled over them a lot, but the longer he talked, the easier it became. Sometime during his interrogation, Dorsk 81 was carted away to a different cell because he was protesting too much. Kyp was glad—he couldn’t stand his best friend witnessing this.

Talking so much wasn’t good for his throat and he was wrecked by a dry cough.

“Can I… have some water?” he requested between coughing fits.

“You have to ask me properly,” Daala told him.

“Please, can I have some water, Admiral?” Kyp tried again.

She shook her head. The corner of her mouth turned up in a wicked way. “No, this is wrong. Repeat after me: Please, can I.”

“Please, can I,” Kyp said.

“A low, pathetic Jedi trash,” Daala said, watching him with cruel amusement. Kyp became red in the face, but repeated the insult obediently.

“Have some of the precious Imperial water.”

He had no problems with this part.

“Mistress Daala.”

His eyebrows shot up. She wanted him to call her 'mistress’?! Kyp couldn’t get out this word.

“Keep going, you were doing so well,” Daala encouraged him.

“I’m not calling you that,” he rasped.

“Too bad. Then I’m not letting you drink.” She smiled predatorily, showing him teeth. “And I should probably check in on the other Jedi.”

Kyp lurched in his bonds as he realized his mistake. “Wait! No, please, no!” When she didn’t react, he gave in to the desperation. “Mi… Mistress!”

Daala chuckled, enjoying his degradation. “Not so stubborn anymore.” She sidled up to him and ran a hand down his side. Kyp shuddered in revulsion, but didn’t protest. “So you can learn. That’s a start.” She was too close, looking him straight in the eye. He saw the craziness lurking behind the toxic green of her gaze. “I have a lot to teach you, Kyp,” she whispered, stroking along his jaw with a fingerpad.

Imagining what kind of depravity she would subject him to had Kyp wishing for his death, only the concern for Dorsk 81’s fate stopping him from doing anything reckless.

So instead, the broken young Jedi bowed his head in defeat. “Yes… Mistress.”

Daala smiled widely.