#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@commandslove - "I ruin everything, I always do." // you know who this is for smiles
cody’s heart sank at such words. HOW? the general was one of the greatest men he had ever met. how could such a LIE be believed by him? his eyebrow knit together tightly trying to piece together what to say, how to comfort his general though the man had not asked for such a thing.
“sir,” he began, but paused, going silent. there was nothing that came to his lip. so many words wanted to spill from his lips like a waterfall. if he could, he would pour out his feelings over obi-wan until he knew how LOVED he was.
part of him wanted to sit. but another part of him needed to stand out of respect for his general. conflicted emotions were always at war within himself.
“sir,” he starts again, “that’s not true. you are an incredible general. so many men, my brothers, would not be here without your leadership. and that is just the start.” there was so much more to say, but cody was still searching for the right words.
#commandslove#commandslove (obi-wan)#[ 𝖈𝖔𝖉𝖞 ] ⋯ good man that cody#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@fateviled -★- [ 𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖔 ]
in every way known to man, happiness was abstract. while it felt as real as any warm and solid thing underneath their grasp, arlo knew the sight of it was deceiving. after all, hadn’t monica smiled through the pain of having to care for him in an unforgiving world; hadn’t she played and laughed with him as they raced through desolate and dangerous lands? it hadn’t been happiness that lingered in arlo when he’d first met the days, but a sense of comfort and a feeling of hope he was hesitant to grasp. arlo was no poet, but warmth and sunlight… it was easy to mistake light for happiness, to see something bright and turn at the chance to bask in it.
arlo was not the nights, who reveled in their shadows and secrecy. and arlo was not ed, whom had made the dark his own. but arlo loved the dark just as well, had learned to respect it and see the potential there. and what that said about edmund gray, well… anyone could look into arlo’s eyes and see the weight of the man in his heart.
everyone, that was, but ed himself. and it stings, so much so that the thought brings a smile to his face, despair and disbelief mixing in equal parts within him. it’s not funny — god knows this world, this heartbreak, has wrung out any humor from him. BUT IT IS CRUEL, to trace the soft curve of his frown with a weathered gaze, hand still upon skin, and think that there is nothing else arlo tesser would have wanted more than to have another day, another week, another year with edmund gray.
❝ you always were the stupidest genius i ever met. ❞ touch gentle and deliberate, he brushes the moisture away from ed’s cheek. if it feels like giving too much away, arlo can’t help it. some things are too deeply ingrained in him, and so many of them bare the name of this perfect nightmare before him. ❝ but that’s alright, i guess i couldn’t ask you to change your nature. or to hope you’d want to change. ❞for me, he doesn’t say. that’s admitting to more than too much, like giving away the plot in one of ed’s convoluted stories. or starting a new one when the one they’d written has long since ended.
he should pull away. he knows. arlo’s hands don’t belong on the other, and he’s said his goodbye a dozen times now. still, he lingers, wondering if he’ll feel any relief to know that he could soon live in a city that did not bear the other’s presence anymore. but the beating thing in his chest offers no answers, whispers no secrets. hell, arlo supposes he already knows the answers, because he still hasn’t moved. doesn’t move when he says, ❝ i would have left with you. ❞ and stronger still: ❝ you were wrong, because i spent weeks after you walked away thinking… that if you just came back to me, apologized, i would have left with you. ❞
there’s no anger left in his tone. arlo’s too tired for it now. he looks down wearily, the weight of the world he’d been left behind in pushing him down. and he endured it now, left with no choice. what did he want? a conclusion. a time machine. to not know another heavy choice again. but that’s impossible, so he looks back up, finding the strength that was built into his bones generations ago.
❝ i want you to stop being a coward, edmund gray. ❞ he forces himself not to swallow, throat dry as the words flow out. malice is not the intent, but he needs the harshness to be felt, as thick on his tongue as he utters every word carefully. ❝ you survived this cruel world, yet you still haven’t learned how to fight. and it takes fight to let yourself chase what you want — even death. ❞
tremors shook his body, violent quakes that shook ed's body like his bones were tectonic plates. he could feel it in his teeth.
❝ i would have left with you. ❞
it was the WORST thing arlo could have told him. it was the BEST thing arlo could have told him. it was the ONLY thing that was both.
blood shoots up his throat, geyser-like, but ed manages to keep it down. it feels like he can't breath, lungs pressing up against his ribs. he wants to wail, but the noise is lost, unable to escape him. blood seems to clot in his throat like a swollen vessel.
he squeezes his eyes tight until his vision turns BLACK. his body is suddenly weightless, every sensation clawing to anchor itself to the touch of arlo's hand to his skin as his body juddered about in sickness and sadness in equal measure. bruised hued colors began to dance in hypnotic patters against his eyes. when he opened them again, arlo was still there.
"i— letters," he finally spits out, unable to gather the words to him as they flee like scared sheep, "i wrote you letters. i hid them all around the city for you to find." i guess you never did.
there were so many now. each one signed FOREVER YOURS, E.G. the TRUTH of those words tore at his heart. arlo tesser still owned that heart. ed had foolish let its owner go when he had never wanted to leave ed in the first place... all because ed was too cowardly to simply talk or apologize— or, more terrifyingly, believe he could have happiness.
at any time he could have delivered those letters rather than waiting around and hoping. would it have changed anything? each second that passes makes ed feel like he's peeling out of his skin. all he wants to do is collapse into arlo's arms to sleep, but he simply... cannot anymore. "i don't WANT to live in a world where you hate me."
#fateviled#fateviled (arlo)#[𝖊𝖉𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖌.] ⋯ death stopped for me#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@fateviled - ❝ your strength has returned. but your weakness still remains. ❞ ( megatron @ optimus<3 )
“weakness,” repeated optimus, muddling the worth over in his mouth. when had simple empathy become a weakness to the mech whom he had once– who he still truly did– hold so close to spark?
where was his poet? where was his gladiator? where was the mech that he had once desired to bond his spark to his own? at what point during the war had the WARLORD killed the LOVER? or had a young, naive orion pax simply ignored the signs of danger until they stood before the senate while he listened to megatronus’ demands for the matrix.
at one time, he could have suggested no better candidate to become prime… until that very moment where everything changed.
for a time, and he felt guilty for how much he had enjoyed that time of blissful ignorance until the lies had become too many, too obvious for him to accept, he believed himself orion pax once more. memories had clouded within his databanks which made him cling to the familiar– to his megatronus. so the other had taken him and orion had followed until he broke free, until jack was able to return him to himself.
when he recharged, he dreamed of better worlds. optimus would have liked to say they disappeared only to start again after the return of the matrix, but that would be a lie. his sleep was plagued with fluxes of the very mech before, of losing the autobots he commanded and the humans they cared for in equal measure to dreams where he was still orion pax. there he could feel the soft touch of a mech who killed in the arena yet held his archivist as though he were made of crystal. of worlds where megatron realized the path he was turning down before the war had progressed four million long, arduous years that were littered with unspeakable acts. even now, awake and facing him, optimus could feel his touch, hear his whispered voice, and long for when they would have been half of one spark, talking about the freedom they would bring to their people.
even now, optimus could forgive him, yes, even now…
“there was such a time when you spoke of oppression and meant to destroy it,” optimus told him, voice cold, but spark torn within him, “now you preach PEACE THROUGH TYRANNY and i wonder how you cannot see it's one in the same.”
#fateviled#fateviled (megatron)#[ 𝖔𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖚𝖘 𝖕. ] ⋯ the strength to be kind#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@the-composer -★- [ 𝖏𝖔𝖘𝖍𝖚𝖆 ]
continued from here . . .
joshua's neck was so damn skinny and beat would have loved nothing more than to ring it. neku's other partner had all the smug confidence of every rich kid beat had ever had the misfortune of meeting. and, to make matters worse, joshua knew his REAL NAME.
DAISUKENOJO.
who named a kid that?
"don't call me that, yo. i done told ya a-thousand times!" he snapped. not that it mattered to joshua. as far as beat could see, very LITTLE mattered to joshua kiryu.
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“ if i tell you to leave me behind, would you listen? ” ( fives @ echo )
“no,” echo said, without hesitation, without even thinking. he cleared his throat a little, “rule number one. never leave a man behind.” the words came easy, a mantra that he had repeated time and again since the final days of their cadet-hood.
but it was more than that.
fives was MORE. of five batch-mates, only two remained. he and fives had been closer with each other than with the rest of their batch. even if it had been fives who had strapped him with the name echo. names were important to fives in a way echo wasn’t sure he fully understood. but it didn’t make him any less loyal to his vod.
it didn’t mean that echo could afford to lose him like they had lost hevy, cutup, and droidbait. echo would see himself FALL before any true harm came to fives. not that he ever said that out loud. echoes repeated after all-- they did not speak with their own voice.
life had not been kind to any clone, but echo felt the searing weight of it all each day. a sadness had settled into his chest that was not inclined to leave him. yet, fives remained his SUNLIGHT, his pathway away from the storm clouds that followed him. they were vode, tight-knit and ever intertwined. at least, that was how echo chose to see it.
#fateviled#fateviled (fives)#[ 𝖊𝖈𝖍𝖔 ] ⋯ last domino to fall#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@fateviled - ❝ you’re bleeding. ❞ ( kylo @ hux )
iron tang was flooding his mouth, his lip split wide and bright against pale skin. his hand wrapped around his side, clutching a far worse wound. hux fought the urge to snap at kylo ren that yes, of course i’m bleeding, idiot. they had just dealt with a failed insurgence from the resistance.
he had taken a bad beating from those fleeing rebels. it was the kind of beating they only dared on those who could not take an open palm and send them careening into the nearest wall or robbed entirely of the air in their lungs. hux went to take another step, to head towards the medical wing, when his body lurched.
the fall down to the floor wouldn’t be far. already hunched over to nurse the shot to his side, hux knew that he could at least brace himself. eyes slipped closed. the last thing he needed to see was kylo ren’s smug smirk once he hit the harsh metal floors of the ship. never more than now did he miss the mask the man would hide behind only a short time prior. now, it was gone. nothing protected hux from seeing ren’s judgment.
would the other leave him there on the floor? or would he hold the HUMILIATION over his head like snowstorms over hoth? it was a wonder how falls could be so quick, but feel like an eternity. hux could only wish for it to end swiftly.
#fateviled (kylo)#fateviled#[ 𝖆. 𝖍𝖚𝖝 ] ⋯ there will be no surrender#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@commandslove -★- [ 𝖔𝖇𝖎-𝖜𝖆𝖓 ]
Obi-wan was tired as he spoke, his mind running back through his latest conversation with Anakin. The strategy meeting had somehow turned into a argument between them, and Obi kept his silence as Anakin left in a huff. He hadn’t even realized he had spoken out loud until Cody spoke, and he just smiled sadly at the man. “Ah...thank you for the kind words Cody. However, one could argue just as many more men would be here if I wasn’t leading them into battle. Such is the nature of war I suppose.”
"no," cody replied instantly, as though he had no control whatsoever over his own mouth, "more men would be LOST without you."
lives for clones were short affairs. even the ones who survived the war would age faster than any human had a right to. perhaps that was why they were so content with the service they were made for. what else could you do but fight and protect? jango told him once that protection, duty, and honor were part of their blood as the clones of a mandalorian. boba had been a mere infant then; jango was slightly kinder in those days, more attentive to the young clones who sought his approval. it hadn’t lasted.
obi-wan kenobi’s praise of the 212th seemed to never cease, even though it was his leadership that won them so many victories. cody knew what had caused this doubt in his jetii. rex and he had shared glances as the tension bubbled between their generals. skywalker was a captivating hover crash, one that his vod’ika seemed unable to look away from and his general seemed determined to prevent despite the vehicle already being in flames. certainly, that conversation afterward had become some argument.
with an amount of daring that surprised himself, he touched obi-wan’s shoulder, “general, the 212th sees no better general than you. you are our jetii,” MY JETII, “and we care about you as one of our own,” AS THOUGH YOU WERE MINE, “never doubt yourself, sir. not with me. not when it comes to my vode.” AND NEVER DOUBT HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.
#commandslove#commandslove (obi wan)#[ 𝖈𝖔𝖉𝖞 ] ⋯ good man that cody#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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acharnemcnt -★- [𝖍𝖚𝖝]
Ensnared within a whirlwind of discord, the general struggles to untangle his scrambled mind —thoughts leaping at light speed, senses straining to identify every tick and shift. The reality of this moment crashes down upon him like a wave. The stark awakening is disquieting, leaving him paralyzed, heartsick. He wipes an inkling of distress from the contours of his face, anxiety overcast with aggravation as he crosses gazes with his uncanny (and undeniable annoying ) new ally.
❛ Do you want my help or not? ❜ Hux hisses through gritted teeth, cautiously evading the inquiry. ❛ If you intend to leave here alive, I suggest halting your futile attempts at at perturbing me in favor ofcooperation. ❜ He does not bother repressing a roll of the eyes as he presses the blaster into the insurgent's hand. Hux glances down the corridor, scanning the premises whilst listening keenly for approaching sounds. ❛ Time is limited.If you plan to survive this, you need to follow my instructions very carefully. ❜ The general wastes no time descending down the vacant hand, his finger hovering over the trigger of the stolen blaster rifle. ❛ Follow me. Hurry. ❜
surviving sounded very good right about now. old habits really did die hard. even if it meant relying on hux to do so. trusting the general felt like a surreal twist to his world. by all means, he hux should have been someone that signaled DEATH. yet, here he was offering finn SURVIVAL. there was something ironic about it all. or maybe poetic.
“fine,” he agreed, after a moment’s hesitation. this could still be a trap for all he knew… but he also knew that he didn’t have much of an option, “lead the way.”
finn would have killed to have a lightsaber right about now. he had a blaster, which should have brought him comfort, yet the jedi weapon somehow seemed to be the right tool for his hands. being picky wasn’t a luxury he had at the moment. not to mention, it was rey who had the lightsaber. and the lightsaber training. so, instead, finn had to rely on the fighting prowess the first order taught him.
once, he was just a faceless stormtrooper to hux. he was no one while hux stood and gave rousing speeches to the troops about the evils of the republic and the resistance. did he know? finn couldn’t help but wonder. did hux believe the first order had been right? only to have a change of heart. or was he reaping the benefits of changing sides at just the right moment? if he was saved, did it matter?
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@fateviled - ❛ how can i possibly trust you? after all you’ve done. ❜ (ok but obi-wan @ dooku :))
"YOU CAN'T," dooku bit back immediately, venom-lacing his words, "but you still NEED to."
harsh words, as quick an snake's bite, was not what either of them needed right now. if they did not act, palpatine—SIDIOUS would win. both the republic and the seperatists would crumble, leaving only an EMPIRE in their rubble. dooku had limited time before they lost it all.
a slow sight escaped him. if he was going to win over kenobi, he was going to have to appeal to kenobi's sensibilities. thankfully, there was a very quick path to kenobi's heart. "if you want to save skywalker, then you will trust me," he tells his grandpadawan.
if there was even chance if that fool boy's fate was not sealed in stone, it would take both of them to save him. even then, dooku wasn't entirely sure that skywalker could be saved. lies had become second-nature to him. at least this was a half-truth to get what he wanted... to plead with the padawan of his padawan in order to save the things they both held dear.
LIGHT and DARK, united to restore balance... or perhaps his light was stronger than he would ever admit.
#[ 𝖉𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖚 ] ⋯ jedi lost or sith found#fateviled#fateviled (obi wan kenobi)#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@fateviled - ❝ you’ve never made one decision for yourself in your entire life, and you never will. ❞ ( fives @ finn im not sorry<3 )
fn-2187 narrowed his gaze at the apparition before him. he was supposed to be standing at attention while one of the commanders spoke. which, of course, meant that one of the ghosts found it prime time to speak to him. he could curse the day that they discovered that he could see them.
all that was going to get him was TROUBLE.
he pursed his lips, fighting a sigh. anger bubbled in his blood. what did fives know? fn-2187 only knew his knew name because a few of the others had called him that. fives. what a name-- then again zeroes and nines had those kinds of name. at least neither of them wasn’t a ghost that felt the need to talk at him in front of other troopers.
it had only gotten worse since they discovered he could hear them. most didn’t do much more than say things in passing, openly admit to wishing fn-2187 would talk to them on occasion. because apparently, they wanted everyone to think he was insane.
then there was fives. fives bled pride. he spoke it, he felt it, he commanded it. fn-2187 almost felt envious of how the other carried himself, even in death. but it also meant that fives would come to him, berate him over issues of loyalty, of right and wrong, of what it meant that he had a NUMBER instead of a NAME. though, lately, fives had seemed to snap with more bite.
from trying to get him to talk with him to flat out stating his loss of hope that fn-2187 would change. he should have been pleased, but he wasn’t. instead, he felt disappointment weigh down his chest like an anchor.
#fateviled#fateviled (fives)#[ 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖓 ] ⋯ because its the right thing#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚���� ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@commandslove - "Am I just being paranoid?" to Cody
Cody knew what if felt like waver when the galaxy looked toward you. At one time, Kote knew that all the millions of vode would be left in his hands. Cody still knew that truth. When the clones looked for a leader, they looked for the one their base had all but hand-selected. There were days Cody hated Jango for that.
Most days he couldn’t because his place in the GAR was what lead him to Obi-Wan.
“You’re the one who can sense the Force,” he said, softly, “If you feel like something is wrong, there is a strong chance you’re right, sir.”
He trusted his general implicitly and always would. The first time that Cody had seen the man who would become his general, his hair and robes had been soaking wet from the rains of Kamino. He looked up. That was when everything changed.
BEAUTY was not something Cody had been truly familiar with before seeing Obi-Wan. The concept was inside him, but he could not find anything among the rain, among the white sterile walls, among brothers who all looked like him in one way or another to be truly beautiful. Until Obi-Wan Kenobi.
When he was put under direct command of the man who would be his Jedi, Cody learned of his inner beauty. There was little more overwhelming that the absolute warmth Obi-Wan had. Cody respected it, admired it, adored it in a way that consumed him. So when his general-- his Jedi-- doubted himself, it was Cody’s job to assure him.
#commandslove#commandslove (obi-wan)#[ 𝖈𝖔𝖉𝖞 ] ⋯ good man that cody#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@livingprophecy - Sometimes the scars you can’t see are the ones that hurt the most.” / tifa @ cloud but also big sephiroth scar sob
SILENCE hung the loudest around him after Tifa spoke those words to life. The memory of Sephiroth attacking The End, of his remnants trying to hurt his family still felt raw in his heart. The scarred over wound felt like it was bleeding, cut anew at her words. His hand gently touched his stomach, fingers curling against his skin, though he didn’t notice it.
Cloud had overworked himself. It was far from an unusual occurrence. He and Tifa had mouths to feed after all. Marlene and Denzel couldn’t grow their own food. His delivery service was good at supplementing extra for the bar... But even then he still felt like it was enough. Nothing ever felt like enough to make up for his neglect.
Which lead to the inevitable process of him running far too many jobs than one man, even one man like him, could handle. Followed of course, by his nightly routine of training with First Sword. He had to train, he had to be ready so it didn’t matter how tired he was.
Until Tifa wandered in to find him panting for breath against the wall of his room. Making her worry was never on his to-do list, but he always seemed to manage it anyway. That made his insides twist far worse than any amount busy work ever could. His teeth grit as he sipped on water she had given him.
“I’m fine,” he lied, perhaps too easily. He could practically feel Aerith and Zack’s eyes on the back of his head. He sighed, amending, “Or I will be. Soon. Was just a rough day.”
Or a rough life.
#livingprophecy#livingprophecy (tifa)#[ 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖘. ] ⋯ lets mosey#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@kardiaerasti - “⠀⠀please don't scare me like that again, i can take a lot of things, but not losing you⠀⠀”⠀⠀—⠀⠀cloud strife & aerith gainsborough OR tifa lockhart
Cloud wiped a smear of blood from the side of his mouth, mako blue eyes locked onto Tifa as she hovered over him. They had been jumped by guards on the way back to the Seventh Heaven after running some jobs. That alone wouldn’t have been a struggle for the two of them, but they had been drawn by what Cloud and Tifa had already been fighting-- a Cerulean drake far out of his usual territory. Instead of listening, Cloud had rushed ahead, attempting to take everything on at once, mind filled with one directive: PROTECT TIFA. Tifa didn’t need his protection, not really... Yet it was hard to let go of that instinct from childhood.
Attention trapped Cloud like a deer in headlights. As it always did. Such things were usually easier around Tifa, but this was different. Her worry made things shift like a wind around them. As if someone was abusing an aero materia. But Cloud knew he couldn’t just stare at the ground.
A shaky sigh escaped him as he pushed himself up from the dirt, not bothering to brush off the dust from his clothes. Words failed Cloud more often than not. Instead of speaking, he stood there dumbly, merely letting out a grunt that sounded more animal than person.
That wouldn’t due. She deserved better than that. He nodded at her, “Sorry...” Still, he knew he would always jump to protect her. It was simply in his nature. Even though he was growing certain Tifa could break his arm if she wanted. Truly, he was lucky that they were friends.
Though the single word was barely any better. Still, it was an apology-- one that she deserved for making her worry. Yet, Cloud still didn’t regret his actions. No, he regretted that it accentuated the lines of worry on her face, the curve of her mouth, the tenseness of her body. He slung the Buster Sword to the magnet on his back in a single motion. “Won’t happen again,” he lied, poorly. The words were clipped tight and awkward on his tongue. While he did not stumble over them, he sped through them as if they were necessary. They were necessary. Cloud had made the critical mistake of attempting to cast Thundaga and then simply rush them all, Drake included, in one foul swoop which effectively cut him off from Tifa when the guards circled him. Had she not been there, carrying their strongest cure materia and a will that made Cloud lose himself to the overpowering nature of her presence, Cloud would have been a gonner. He had made her worry, he had been reckless-- he just wished he could be honest, but that would involve not putting her first when he cared about her above all others.
#kardiaerasti#kardiaerasti (tifa)#[ 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖘. ] ⋯ lets mosey#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose#i hope this is okay!#let me know if you want me to change anything!
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@fateviled - ❝ when i’m with you i feel like myself. i feel like every side of me is present and accepted. and i feel good about it— i feel good about who i am when i’m with you. ❞ ( rex @ anakin :)) )
Many Jedi were lax with their clones. They knew the men were controlled from birth, or decanting as they called it, and shoved into the war against their will. (Did either the clones or the people leading them truly want to be fighting this war or were their hands merely tied by circumstance?) Anakin liked to take that laxness as far as he could. So, if there was reason to celebrate and they didn’t have a pressing mission, he allowed the men to drink.
Currently, they were on leave, the Resolute floating high above Coruscant. Many of the men had taken the revelries to 79s, but Rex had stayed with him on the ship. Padmé’s niece’s birthday was growing close and she had returned to Naboo for a brief reprieve. He had hoped their mission would be done in time to join her, but they had gotten called to aid on Dantooine. Such was war, he supposed...
But he had also supposed that Rex would would join his brothers. Not yet ready to head back to the temple, he had decided to sip something in his room and actually go over his reports for once. Rex had come to drop off some more flimsiwork for him, but had stayed, to his pleasure. Work forgotten, they had started to speak as they often did. Comfort came easy around Rex. And they both had probably had a little more than they should.
But such honesty... The words that spilled from his captain that warmed Anakin’s heart. A sun beam smile, small and gentle, twisting like binary stars above a sunrise. He nodded at Rex. “I... I’m glad, Rex,” he said, voice unusual gentle, “That you feel that way. It means I’m doing something right.” Rex’s comfort was it’s own reward. Anakin didn’t have many friends-- but he liked to consider Rex ranked highly among that few.
#fateviled#fateviled (rex)#[ 𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓 𝖘. ] ⋯ peace freedom justice and security to my new empire#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe
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@fateviled - ‘‘ i broke up with you because i was mad at you, not because i stopped loving you! ‘‘ ( this is unrealistic but megatron @ optimus fuck it )
BROKE UP?
Was that what Megatron thought of it? Of the abandonment he wrought upon a young Orion Pax, being told that he was supposed to become Prime? There not much left within him for true anger. Instead, he just an eternal EMPTINESS that existed within his spark, all of his emotions seeping out through a crack that had been wrought by the mech before him.
A long slow, vent escaped him. A bit of smoke escaped him, into the cool night air. Above them, the stars watched their meeting in silence. Out there, at an unfathomable distance, was Cybertron. It’s dying light could not even been seen from Earth.
It was hard speak with Megatron under a sky like this without thinking of all they lost. Their planet. Their home. Their love. How many nights like this had Orion imagined their lives together. Of a peaceful life after changing the world for the better, Orion back with the archives and Megatronus as a leader for their people.
But that was a fantasy, and Optimus Prime lived in reality. “You stopped loving me,” Optimus corrects him, “You can’t pretend you didn’t.” Because if he hadn’t, why hadn’t LOVE been enough?
#fateviled#fateviled (megatron)#[ 𝖔𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖚𝖘 𝖕. ] ⋯ the strength to be kind#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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@fateviled - ❛ you’re important to me, you little shit. ❜ ( obi to anakin oops )
Avoidance had stopped working. He had to leave Padme’s rooms eventually and the minute he did, Obi-Wan was on him like a hungry krayt dragon who just came upon their favorite food. Anakin couldn’t handle this, couldn’t do this. The last thing he needed was Obi-Wan’s disappointment, to know he had failed his perfect master by being tempted, by hiding everything from him.
"You’re important to me, you little shit."
“I’m taller than you,” was the only reply that Anakin could muster. It was a pathetic quip, at best. But it was all he could do when he couldn’t even look Obi-Wan in his eyes.
On his hip, his lightsaber felt a burning iron. This was hardly the Jedi Temple-- no, Obi-Wan had chosen to accost him at the Senate building just as he was trying to leave. Now, he was trying to walk away, get back to her apartments. But it was no use-- he was trapped.
He had tried to argue that he didn’t want to talk, tried to push passed the man whom he had called family since he was nine. The one man who had always believed in him, cared for him, trusted him. And he had thrown it all in his face.
“...And I shouldn’t be,” he finally added, “I failed you. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” Anakin once more attempted to shoulder his way past his master.
#fateviled#fateviled (obi-wan kenobi)#[𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉] ⋯ i do believe#[ 𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓 𝖘. ] ⋯ peace freedom justice and security to my new empire#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose
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