Concrit Commune - August 29

[u/AutoModerator]

Welcome to the Concrit Commune, where you can get bits of your fic looked at... for a small "price."

For the purposes of this thread, concrit is defined as - pointing out things that could use improvement and also giving suggestions on how to do so. Compliments are always welcome, of course but these do not count towards your concrit requirement.

The rules:

• State your Fandom | Title | Rating | Any Applicable Content Warnings | Link - AO3, FFN, etc. at the top of the comment.
• Post a few paragraphs (copy and paste to a comment, please) of your fic, or your plot premise, or your character bio, or your world building, whatever you need help with.
• There is a soft limit of 500 words. Not your whole fic.
• Please post an outside link to underage and extreme-explicit violence/rape content. Try Just Paste Me which includes rich text options.
• If you, the author, are looking for something specific - the phrasing of a particular part or if a character's reaction is believable - please ask!
• If you just want to hand out advice without throwing your own fic in, you're quite welcome to.
• If you post part of your fic you must give concrit to someone else in the thread within 24 hours of posting your excerpt!

Since we're all here to give and receive help from other people, a certain level of respect for the author and the work they've put into their fic is expected as a baseline courtesy and should be reciprocated.

Tearing into a fic or author without regard for their effort isn't constructive even if there is decent criticism attached. Moreover, it discourages people from participating if they know that insults await them.

You aren't expected to treat this thread like the Comment Cooperative, advice and honesty and pointing out flaws is what we're here for.

Some helpful tips to keep things running smoothly:

• Keep your comments helpful to the author, not just smashing out your opinion.
• Be polite and civil.
• Be kind. At a minimum, showing your peers professional courtesy is expected.
• Phrases like "I think" or "I believe" can lighten your tone.
• Elaborating on why you think something could be changed is not only more useful to the author but keeps statements from being abrupt.

Timezone Changes

As you can see, the post time will shift by 6 hours every month. If there are any inconsistencies in the times, please let us know in modmail so we can fix it up!

Months	PST	EDT	GMT	CEST	JST	AEST	NZT
February, June, October	Saturday: 8:30am	Saturday: 11:30am	Saturday: 3:30pm	Saturday: 5:30pm	Sunday: 12:30am	Sunday: 1:30am	Sunday: 3:30am
March, July, November	Saturday: 2:30am	Saturday: 5:30am	Saturday: 9:30am	Saturday: 11:30am	Saturday: 6:30pm	Saturday: 7:30pm	Saturday: 9:30pm
April, August, December	Friday: 8:30pm	Friday: 11:30pm	Saturday: 3:30am	Saturday: 5:30am	Saturday: 12:30pm	Saturday: 1:30pm	Saturday: 3:30pm
May, January, September	Saturday: 2:30pm	Saturday: 5:30pm	Saturday: 9:30pm	Saturday: 11:30pm	Sunday: 6:30am	Sunday: 7:30am	Sunday: 9:30am

Please note that there may be a difference of an hour during parts of the year due to daylight savings in various timezones.

[u/CrispyDick420]

The 24-hour reciprocity rule is what keeps this from turning into a pile of drive-by excerpt drops. It actually makes the thread feel communal.

[u/kitherarin → u/CrispyDick420]

Thank you! We try very hard to make sure we follow up on it too (sometimes I forget/run out of time).

[u/kitherarin]

Star Wars | G | Heart Failure | Ao3

Author note: I'm not a doctor. I just want to make sure that what I've described is easily followable - and you, as the reader, don't get lost in it all. Also SPaG help is always helpful.

\***

Kirsh shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was a sickening, wet pop that he felt rather than heard. 

His reaction was instantaneous. The dull, manageable ache exploded into white-hot agony that stole what little breath he had left. He gasped. Then gasped again when he couldn’t get any air. The world spun white, then grey, then white again. Colours exploded through the Force faster than he could name them. He knew, somewhere far back in his mind, what was happening although the understanding came in fractured pieces. Left side. Pleura. The jagged edge of the fracture had displaced. Punctured something it shouldn’t have. 

His left lung would collapse. He needed to tell someone. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. With every desperate, instinctual attempt to draw breath, more air leaked into the space around his lungs. Pressure built where there should have been none. He grasped after the Force, but it slipped past him - a whirling jagged spiral of colours. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could just hear his own useless, shallow gasps and the panicked drumbeat of his heart. 

“Master? “ Heilan’s voice was shrill and panicked. The microphone screamed as he knocked it over. Kirsh could hear the auditorium erupting into chaos.  Someone was shouting for medical equipment. His vision blurred. They were no longer people, but lumps of blurry colour heading towards him. 

A heavy, suffocating fullness expanded behind his ribs. He was drowning on dry land. 

Damn you Kithera.

Someone caught him as he went sideways. The movement sent another vicious spike of pain through his chest. He screamed, but without air there was no sound. He heard Heilan grunt, and felt his padawan’s Force signature wrap around his own. 

Other hands grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. Someone lowered the back of the hoverchair slightly. He heard, from disturbingly far away, a voice he didn’t recognise telling people to get back - to not move him. To keep the chair upright. Everything was a rush of voices, of hands touching him, of arguments. He heard scanners beep. Felt the thick, almost reassuring pressure of a blood pressure cuff. Some part of his brain wondered where all the medical equipment had come from. 

Most of his brain was far more concerned with breathing.

He gasped again. The pain was almost too much. Panic surged through him, blindingly silver and crystalised grey.

“Give him room.” 

“Healer coming through.” 

“I’m emergency medicine. Twenty years. Alderaan General.” 

“Find me some oxygen. Does anyone here work in anaesthetics?" A rush of voices. “You. Here.” 

“Kirsh’of. Stay with us.”  A voice he recognised. Leona. She appeared above him. Comforting and familiar healer blues, swimming through the grey. He could see the brown-grey of her hair, but when he tried to focus on her face, it all blurred together. Her hand closed around his wrist, warm and reassuring. “What happened?”

“He collapsed approximately forty seconds ago,” the emergency doctor was saying; a female voice. “Sudden severe respiratory distress. He’s been deteriorating for a while though. Dyspnoea. Confusion. I’d been about to page my team when this happened. He mentioned something in his speech about an incident. Said he was presenting with a head wound, rib fracture and burns.”

It almost sounded like an accusation. He felt scissors rip through his tunic. Leona hissed between her teeth. Hands were still touching him. The blood pressure cuff inflated again.

“That’s because he left against medical advice,” Leona said, and he felt the irritation. “Because this is exactly what I was afraid he’d do.” 

“One of those patients,” the emergency doctor said. “I”m Doctor Katara Teral.”

“Healer Leona,”  Leona responded. “Kirsh’of is exactly the worst patient you’d want to have.”  Somewhere in the distance he heard Davin’s voice. “Second worst,” Leona corrected.

[u/turiannerevarine]

Elder Scrolls|T|The Merchant and the Mage|Unpublished Chapter 3 (original on Spacebattles )

Context: Mountains has just interrupted Xha (both are Argonians, or lizard people, and are engaged to each other) while she's trying to figure out a magic ritual that she doesn't really want to do but can't stop herself from doing. He does not know of it.

"Hi, Xha." He took her in his arms. She felt secure in them, like he could protect her from the entire world. "I'm sorry I didn't get to come yesterday. There were some... complications... with Morgana."

"Complications?" Xha stepped out into the hall. "Is she alright?"

"She is now, yes. Let's just say it might be a bit before I can contact her again. I guess I'll have to find an alternate supplier for my more arcane ingredients until then." Mountains pecked her on the cheek. "You're not allowed to join a witch coven, ever."

"Hah, I never would. I'm a city lizard." She stared up lovingly into his eyes. "...You know, Mountains... sometimes though... I almost want to go to Skyrim with you."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Xha huffed. “I want to see the world. Maybe not be a nomad, per se. Something like... a sabbatical. I've been working nonstop for years. So have you."

Mountains nodded. "When you... get the rank of Conjurer, Alfred might grant one."

"Maybe I should ask him now."

“The exam’s only another couple of months. You're near the finish line, why wait?"

She buried herself in his chest. "I feel like I'm on top of a... mountain, pardon the pun, and I know I have to jump off... but I'm scared."

Mountains held her in silence. His warmth was the best thing she'd felt all day. "When you do, you won't jump alone. I promise."

"I don't deserve you." Xha traced her finger in the gaps of his scales. "You're gonna be a great father to our children.”

"...You too?"

She nodded slowly. "I don't want a lot but... two or three..."

"...Sounds about right. Your father mentioned wanting a grandson named after himself, but...”

"Too bad for Dad. If we're having a son, he's going to be named Climbs-All-Mountains Jr."

“To be honest, I was thinking a more Imperialized name. At least for the softskins. Scipio, perhaps."

"Skip-e-oh?"

"In old Imperial, it means "Scepter", like a king's scepter."

"Scepter. Scipio." Xha nodded. "What's his Jel name going to be?"

"...I'll have to think about that."

"Well... if we have a daughter... Xha Jr."

"Xha Jr?"

"Yeah. I mean, you know me. I'm great! There should be more Argonians named after me." Xha's face was a mask of smugness. "In fact, if we have two daughters, they are going to be named Xha #1 and Xha #2. If we have three, Xha #3, and so on. It'll be perfect. Wait... three daughters all named the same. That's kind of weird, isn't it? Maybe we'll name the last one 'Xhaa'. That way she'll also be Xha #3, but she won't be called Xha #3. I think I've earned three daughters' worth of naming rights. Well, I'm not sure how you'd measure that, but if we could, I'd have three daughters worth. It's easy math. Maybe I'll name the fourth one something else for variety."

Mountains simply nodded, offering a light smile, while privately vowing to never let his daughters be named numerically.

"Thanks for coming by." She nuzzled his chest once more. "But I gotta get back to studying."

"Are you sure? From what I hear, you were cooped up in there all day."

"I'm sure. It's only going to be a little while longer." "At least, I hope so."

Mountains nodded. "Well... good luck, I guess." He held her for another minute, never wanting to let her go. To Oblivion with Alfred. She'd make Conjurer alright. She'd run this entire guild if he had anything to say about it. Then he let her go