#[ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖚𝖊 ] ⋯ always something left to lose

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

@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."

[faeties]

@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.”

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

“  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.

[faeties]

@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.  

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

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?

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

@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.   

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

@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.

[faeties]

@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?

[faeties]

@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.