Charlotte | 30, French, psychiatrist but also batshit crazy,
99.9% bullshit, Star Wars, Obi Wan Kenobi stan, sketchdump & aesthetics blog yissss
You can also find me on Instagram @chalaser.lightsaber
“Everything I did, I told myself Satine started it.” She kicked absentmindedly at the dirt beneath her feet, child-like. “The story was clear when I was young. Satine was the traitorous usurper who stole my birthright and destroyed my father’s legacy. But the older I get, the less I seem to know.”
She sighed, unraveling the tight pose she’d curled herself in to lean back on her hands. “Now, I don’t think it started with Satine. I don’t think it even started with my father.”
Tired green eyes turned skyward to look at the transparent domed roof of the greenhouse. “But they’ve all marched on now. None of them got what they wanted. And here I am.”
Dried Blood in my Father’s Beskar
Some art to accompany my fic and celebrate being well-fed by season 3 so far!
(Did I make it in time for Valentine’s Day shhh) I know I’ve drawn Codywan in this exact same pose for the nth time but I’ll never be tired of drawing Codywan embracing ;u;
Kit Fisto with some nautolan crechelings in the Temple Fountains.
based on this post by @chaosgoblinhours and due credit to @spacerocksarethebestrocks for nautolan developmental stages (they start out rly small and get rlly big)
[Image ID: a digital drawing of kit fisto floating in sunlight flooded waters. he is shirtless surrounded by large water plants. in his tendrils four tiny nautolans who look like tadpole mermaids are playing catch while a fifth is holding a tiny bubble of air in their hands, showing it to him. the atmosphere is peaceful and kit is smiling. end ID]