#(because everything in Star Wars is connected)

[rhiannon-taken-by-the-sky]

…so did anyone else notice that the entrance to the twin’s room looked like Vader’s helmet (especially when it was engulfed in flames) or was that just me

…and is everyone else picking up on the fact that the “death” of a Nightbrother (Maul) is the impetus for Anakin becoming a Jedi in the first place and that Anakin spent half of his life in the Light Side and the remaining half in the Dark Side before ultimately becoming the undoing of the Sith, much in the same way that Osha represents the Jedi/Light Side which doubly represents hyper-independence and Mae represents the Dark Side which doubly represents toxic codependence AKA the reasons why Anakin fell to the Dark in the first place

…and have we noticed that this narrative is continuing the arguments against what pure good and pure evil is and why extremism on either side causes inner turmoil and demise in the physical world

or is that just me

[foggysirens]

okay so someone reblogged my post (about how din and luke are so desperately touch starved and how they find comfort within one another and slowly banish the loneliness away with one another’s touch) and made a comment about how they don’t see luke as touch starved because he was never really isolated from his family and gives and receives touch very easily and like no hate cause i love that idea as well, in fact i absolutely agree- luke grew up in a very loving family that showed him that affection openly- a hug from beru before she’d go to bed, a fond ruffle of the hair from owen after he’d scraped his knee- touch and connection clearly mean a lot to him. we can see it in anh and esb how freely and easily he uses touch with those around him- the group hug with han and leia after the victory of the trench run, putting a friendly hand on chewies shoulder and letting himself get pulled into an embrace, his arm around leia as they stare out the viewport. luke is a tactile person. no doubt. but that’s also how we know he’s changed when we get to rotj and he’s noticeably less so. that’s how we can see how reserved he’s become, taking on a mantle of stoicism he’s not fully comfortable with yet, but wears anyways. war and loss has changed him. he’s still kind, still luke, just less free with his touch and joy- and with that i can’t help but go back to my thoughts on my first post about him being touch starved, because is it not even more understandable and heartbreaking that he is so? luke, a person who clearly craves and reaches out for touch, suddenly devoid of it? it makes his loneliness so much for profound, him suddenly distanced from his sister and friends after the war, all of them going their own ways, living their own lives. there is no aunt and uncle to go home to. no father or master, just his texts. the force. and how, for so long after that, that is just how he lives, a random touch on the arm or hug from leia every now and then, but the comfort and ease of touch he’d once had as a young man is gone. and how, once he meets din, he finally gets to have that part of himself back. the part that can indulge and reach for that comfort and need to have someone close. heal his touch starved soul in such a beautiful way and remind him that after all of it, all the war and fighting and isolation that he did not choose but found himself in, luke deserves the touch he so craves.

[antianakin]

Anakin and Bo-Katan are so similar that there's no WAY they like each other because their similarities are all in their worst qualities. They're both ridiculously arrogant and competitive and tend to use violence as a first resort. None of that pairs well together with someone else who also has those traits. Anakin and Bo-Katan hate each other SO MUCH and would desperately love to kill the other if given the opportunity (if Anakin is Darth Vader in the scenario, he would just kill her anyway and does not need to wait for an opportunity).

You'd think they'd be able to connect over being violent warmongering traitorous assholes, but they're both so busy trying to pretend they're NOT violent warmongering traitorous assholes while simultaneously blaming the other person for being a violent warmongering traitorous asshole that they just never get anywhere.

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[jewishcissiekj]

The Rattatak origin for Asajj and Ky is very important to me because there's something so special about this bond between someone who's been raised to fight, whose parents were warlords, and a Jedi, a peacekeeper. That part is present in the canon origin, but not as much, and is only brought in later on, with Dooku: Jedi Lost's expansion on their story (which draws from the Rattatak origin so much!!!). I also think that, while Asajj is lost as a character, she should think she's right. She should think she has things backing her, at all times. Having her legacy of war and becoming a warlord herself on Rattatak means so much to her and TCW just... misses that point. The way I understand her, which is my interpretation from everything about her in Legends, she strives for power even though she has a lot of it. She has a castle on Rattatak, at least one loyal guard, a prison, and a life. Republic #60 presents this unexplored part of her story that actually adds so much to the depth of the character. She didn't choose it, not at first, but she uses the power Dooku gave her, and she has power of her own.

There's something about her in her (only) 12 Legends comic issues that gives her much more independence and character depth than I feel TCW has ever done. She is a blind servant of power, of Dooku, yes, but there's more of her. another thing that almost doesn't exist in canon, and doesn't exist in TCW at all, is Asajj and Ky's role on Rattatak.

"On her own, Asajj would have died. Left to his own devices, the stranger would have undoubtedly been captured and killed. But together they became something our world had never known... They became heroes. They ended wars and united armies. And as their legend grew..." -Osika Kirske, Republic #60

In TCW, Ky's a savior to her most of all. Rattatak isn't that much of a hostile and unfamiliar environment, and Dooku: Jedi Lost even implies he could have taken Asajj to Coruscant. But here, it's their partnership that saved them both. And they weren't only partners, they were heroes to Rattatak, a land of war and conflict. It's important that she's more than a Jedi. Rattatak was her life, not a place she as taken to as a baby. It's also important that she is from Rattatak (while Ky isn't), to not be a, you know, foreign (white) savior story. Another quote from Kirske in Republic #60 while I'm at it, about Asajj after she met Dooku.

"After her mentor's death, Ventress assembled an army. She learned new tricks from other off-worlders. She waged war on us all... She killed or captured all who would oppose her..."

Again, I don't think her being from Rattatak gives her any more right to conquer the planet (which she didn't do in TCW because god forbid she does anything but look sexy while fighting Obi-Wan in season 1), but it does make sense for her. Meeting Dooku changes her perspective, and while she still views herself as a Jedi, she feels she has more right to be a Jedi than Obi-Wan or anyone else (calling him a false Jedi). I don't think George Lucas thought all of that through when he said he wanted to make Asajj a Nightsister. Hell, I don;t think he read Republic #60. I think elements from that issue were even incorporated into the show in the first place because they just had to fill the gaps. Still, I talk a lot about how I hate that retcon and I truly do, but I never really explained it. Can't imagine this was clear as a rant but I did just want to write some of this down.

Lastly, just the concept of a fully grown Jedi learning from and teaching this feisty child how to fight in this war and how to be on this planet is. priceless. I love it.

[beskad]

Anyone saying to viewers or fans confused or dissatisfied by Bo-Katan's character in S3 "to understand Bo in The Mandalorian you need to go watch Rebels!" is, I think, missing the bigger issue.

Maybe Rebels addresses her arc really well and builds on TCW characterization? That's great! But the writers of Mando are not addressing it. They even appear to be currently, actively ignoring and/or retconning large portions of TCW and Rebels.

For "cinematic universes" (*gag*) like this, it's important to either adequately recap relevant existing canon, or clearly restart from square one. That way, even a casual viewer can understand the characters and and their motivations relative to the show they're watching now.

It is not a reasonable expectation to have every viewer need to have seen 4 seasons of an animated show to adequately understand a character who's been dropped into the 2nd season of a completely separate live action one.

Some decent groundwork was laid in season 2. We can't, nor should we, have all information about a character revealed to us immediately, that would just be a sloppy infodump.

Bo-Katan is the leader of a faction of Mandalorians who want to retake Mandalore. Cool. She's got a grudge against Gideon who, as we found out via Din in season 1, is responsible for the Great Purge of Mandalore, a complete bombing that made an already inhospitable landscape completely unlivable. So on and so forth.

However, at the end of season 3—a season where Bo-Katan is heavily featured—we still have received no clear explanation or recap of her backstory outside of her surrender to Gideon. There have been many opportunities for different characters to know and address that she had a leadership role in a literal terrorist group, Death Watch. It's very relevant, but it's never addressed. Even if we're going with it being previously resolved, it's a very significant and relevant part of her backstory and Bo-Katan doesn't even have private moments of reflection that might explain that to us, the audience.

She preaches about the failures of a divided Mandalore, despite having explicitly and repeatedly contributed to that division in very recent history. There's no self-awareness. from her or the writers.

If Favloni & co. want to retcon previous material—it's annoying, but they're technically allowed to do that.

However, they are not clearly committing to previous canon, nor are they doing the work to clearly establish new canon.

Regardless of the why for any of this, the fence-sitting makes for a mediocre product that tries to do both. The end result is a messy and inconsistent characterization and half-baked backstory that feels incomplete and leaves me asking the show I'm currently watching, "wait, did I miss something?"

Some additional gripes/support for my opinion that the creative team isn't committing to a clear plan for her characterization:

Bo specifically states that the planet and city didn't always look like this. But—

Completely omits that she's a key reason why it was wrecked twice over. Seized once by Maul, which I don't fault them for not acknowledging in live action because casual viewers would be confused (though technically the Solo movie did it so like, pick a lane), then later bombed into oblivion by the Empire.

She mentions her father, and that he's dead. Completely omits that she had a sister who's also dead, and who technically also died defending Mandalore (Satine's cultural genocide against her own people, which also oddly resulted in a population of seemingly all-white pacifists, is a rant for another post). There is room for a compelling and clear in-universe explanation for this! Like maybe she's in denial or tortured about it, and that's why it's not brought up. But we the audience still need to know that. However, it looks like they've just written Satine out. Maybe it would too clearly place Bo-Katan as a Bad Guy which is inconvenient for them because they don't want to take the time to address it, despite this season spending a lot of screentime with her.

They're even ignoring her characterization previously established within this same show with her showing explicit disgust for Din's faction in season 2, then somehow being fine with joining them in season 3.

[pileofsith]

Nameless Part Nine - Alien Page 3/8

Our house, in the middle of the street.

Note: text in angle brackets is speech in Utapaun language.

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[neverendingford]

.

[blue-cat-shitposts]

The meaning in the stars is the one you give them, tbh

[leofromsomewhere]

watching the mandalorian s3 and THE MANDALORIANS HAVE A TALKING STICK????? AT THEIR MEETINGS? THIS IS CANON??

what is this show doing (I love it very much)

[gffa]

One thing I did appreciate is that The Acolyte did not hold back on that Osha went full dark side, that Sol's kyber crystal was crushed by her anger and hate to the point that it bled into a red saber. She straight up murdered someone who was not fighting back. She killed him because she was hurt and angry, not because he was a threat. Osha's feelings of betrayal and rage were valid, her actions were not. She murdered an unarmed man who was not fighting back, who had no intention of fighting back, who literally forgave her as she choked the life out of him, and nothing of her actions were justified. She wasn't even regretful about it. The dark side can be humanized to a degree, it always has been in Star Wars, that's nothing new. Anakin's everything ever, Maul's pain and desperation for a connection through an apprentice, Dooku's clinging to his care for people like Yaddle or Asajj, the dark side has never been about detached or unsympathetic anger. It's always come from a very human place, that's why the Jedi constantly caution that no one is beyond it. But Osha embraced it here, she stepped over the line and murdered a defenseless man because of her rage, not because it was in any way justified as a killing, and the kyber crystal screamed and bled because of it. You don't get a red saber by being justified, you get it by crossing the line into an act of evil. And props to The Acolyte for not shying away from that, as human as Osha is and will continue to be, her actions were over the line of evil.

[legitimatesatanspawn]

What you consider normal and what others consider normal aren't always the same thing. A lot of it can be subjective.

Anakin's 'normal' is probably something like knowing who hates him on sight. Knowing who he can trust in the moment. Maybe sensing the bonds he'll have in the future - it's why he saw Padme as an angel, on some level he saw the woman she'd grow up to be and knew deep in his bones that he'd grow up to love her, be happy with her, safe with her, FREE with her. Maybe not the best relationship when you think about it but they did love each other... for good or ill.

I imagine the only reason why he didn't immediately pick up on Palpatine's true intentions was because Qui Gon had begun to teach Anakin how to shield and filter. A child that loud... it's no wonder that the Council (YODA) quickly picked up on his fear.

It wasn't a fear that blinds but Anakin's emotions felt like they were being screamed into the Force so to their 'normal' it was like hearing a paralyzing fear that would surely go down the path away from Light. A self-fulfilling prophecy if you will.

So then when Anakin is brought to these tiny tiny children who all are Just Like Him, who can't shield and filter yet or they do but they're still so LOUD...

He's not strange. He's not weird. He's normal. Always but here especially.

And yes that's how he realizes that others aren't faking it to keep the peace or lying to his face or are hopelessly wrong. No one is broken, NO ONE is wrong. It honestly is a matter of a different point of view. It's not that people are telling him to be silent, it's not that they hate him, it's not that they refuse to be with him. It's just... it's like with those babies. The other Jedi are overwhelmed and don't know what to do but they clearly still care for those Force Possessed Crechelings just as much as they care for the more 'standard' ones.

And I like to think that the Force told the babies to go with the Bigger Baby (Anakin will always be the Force's baby). A reassurance that Bad Things won't come so easily if he's given attachments to a flock of Tiny Babies who GET him.

I like to think that the 501st take it in stride. Like "Yes Sir you have..." okay, Legends suggests 10 and current Canon seems to be a max of 20 so I'm gonna split the difference of the larger number being for the Possessed Babies to keep them all in one place since there's probably more 'standard' Initiate clans.

"Yes Sir you have a dozen tiny children. What do you mean it's not a dozen, where's the rest? All over the ship? Doing things? Doing Jedi things or doing Skywalker things? Both? ... okay. Should we assign a troop to each vatika? Buddy system, sir, it's not that we don't trust them to be alone it's just... they'd be safer with someone at their side."

So the Possessed Babies have a Trooper assigned to each of them. It's their Buddy! I like to think most of them have names but maybe a few are still Shiny and its like "maybe a vatika gets up to less Force oisk than a padawan/knight/master" buuuut maybe not the normal ones but THESE cretchelings? Force Oisk is cranked to Kenobi levels at least.

So one of the Shinies gets a name either from their Baby (referencing something they'll do in the Future that makes perfect sense to them) or from Baby Wrangling.

One of the Babies' antics just after boarding the ship somehow leads to a Trooper surviving a Clanker. Another causes a Trooper to learn a valuable skill in hacking comms which saves lives of a different battalion. A different Baby manages to unleash a fleet of mousedroids that causes nothing but confusion on the ship, no real lessons learned there just the Force thought it'd make for a funny scene.

You know my Crechelings Are Possessed post?

What if it was just the one? A SI-OC or OC?

Dying and going THROUGH the Force? I will attest, is GONNA have side effects. You're gonna end up... weird. Not Normal for a Force Sensitive. Kinda like Anikin tbh. A bit TOO in tune. A bit TOO aware. Connected.

As though your brain was cracked open 5+ dimensionally, to the Whole Of Creation that IS the Force and it kinda fucked you up a bit. Cause as A Luminous Force Being? You were fine! Energy and light! But as MATTER? Well...

Matter breaks.

Can withstand only so much.

We are LIMITED by our matter, crude and flawed as it is. Beloved as it may be.

Cause make no mistake! You aren't BROKEN. But you are CHANGED. There were a series of clear, monumentous, and "life" altering events back to back here! Death, a traumatizing thing no matter HOW peaceful it may have been. And in all likelihood? It was NOT a peaceful end. It probably? Hurt. Was frightening. Abrupt. There is grief and hurt there. Fear.

Then the trauma of being separated from everyone we have ever known. Without closure. For them OR us. Our empathy would remind us of their suffering. That they do NOT know we are okay. That we have no way to TELL them we are. This too, is trauma. But? Worse?

Is the Force.

We? Are no Jedi. Not yet. We are confused. Lost and do not understand. It is FOREIGN to us. An outside will that we cannot escape. Where are our gods? The death we expected? The afterlife we assumed we would meet? It's INSIDE US. It IS US. We are IT. We don't know where we are and everything feels?

E N D L E S S .

Can force ghosts even cry? Weep, terrified and overwhelmed? Afraid? Simply BRINGING us to them would not impart understanding. And imparting understanding? Well... we know it to be not OF us? To be inflicted. An invasion. The Force is not cruel. But! Importantly! It is not and has never BEEN? Mortal.

Blue and Orange morality is at play. How do you explain to a formless, infinite, all knowing, all powerful God Force? The concept of "boundaries"? Limits? There is GOOD to be done. It's helping you! Pushing love and comfort! Surely that should work? Why is that not working? It is... confused. Not MADE for such contemplations.

This too, is Trauma. Being held in the hands of a God. Benevolent does not mean SAFE. Does not mean you will not be unharmed. Just... that they do not MEAN to harm you.

Or have very Good Reasons for why they "Must".

The Force Ghosts help. They are patient in the way only old Master's could be. Kind. They understand. Have taught. And so? Though they are quite confused, they understand you struggle to release your fear. Explaining things helps. Talking helps. And you find peace.

Not the afterlife you EXPECTED, but not terrible.

Which... of course, is when once again things change.

Birth, Life, these TOO, are Trauma. You were FREE. No more pain. No aches. No hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion. Connection deeper then this broken and flawed matter could ever hope to achieve. The world has gone SILENT. Muffled. Like solitary confinement for the SOUL.

Only in meditation, are you FREE.

Your parents can't handle you. You grieve for them. For the child they should have had. Look around the nursery, so filled with excitement and love, and feel nothing but the urge to weep. You are a stillborn, brought to life. A child stolen. They deserved better then this. Even as you can not be anything but what you ARE? What of THEIR sorrow? Their confusion and futures now impossible?

You love them. They are not yours. Will never tryely be your parents, for all they brought you into this world. But oh, Oh, you love these poor grieving souls. Wish it had not been you. That they could have had the child they were so excited to love. You... you are sorry. So, so sorry.

They take you to the Temple. You guild them to a child in need, first. Hope they will be happy.

You do not look back.

They put you in a Creche with others just as "Unusually Strong" in the Force. Is that Grogu? Hi Grogu. Who are the rest of you? The room is quite. Everyone talking loudly in the Force, instead. It would be deafening for the more delicate younglings. They don't have the shields for it yet. The children here SHOUT without meaning too, like standing at a rock concert.

Visions are a constant thing. Unusual Force gifts and manifestations. Illirrrska can see auras. Doesn't know what they MEAN, mind you, and xe sees them on EVERYTHING that lives, but still! Xey are well on xeir way to figuring it out. (Xey have a holo document cataloging the colors, you see.)

You fit right in! With your Tiny Herald Of Death To Come nature. Your Creche mates believe you. The adults? Have grown numb. Used to filtering. Tiny younglings with Too Much Force flowing through them? Are horrors. Viscerally unsettling. Unnatural.

Even to the Jedi.

But! They REFUSE to treat children with such caution and distain. Hold them at an arms length out of FEAR. So they mentally filter. "That's nice dear, horrifying concepts and brain melting secrets, mmmhmmm. Eat your pudding. Who wants to play float ball~‽ Yaaaaaay!"

No one will listen. Future in motion. But really, of course it is. You are no fool.

However... tell me, Master Jedi. Does it matter? If we die one step to the right as apposed to the left? Because you would not LISTEN when the Force spoke? The future only changes when you ACT. Not when you REFUSE too. Out of FEAR. Out of IGNORANCE. Out of ATTACHMENT.

And make no mistake, you ARE attached. Clinging so hard to your beliefs that you could not POSSIBLY be wrong. Could not POSSIBLY be fallible, be fooled by the Dark Side and lead astray, that you have turned your back on the very Tennants of the Code itself.

What is more important? Tradition or the Force? The innocent or the way things were? Tell me, what is the will of the Force... and what is Fear? Convenience? The little moral compromises that damn? Who do you serve, Master Jedi? And ARE you serving them?

Perhaps you should meditate.

Just???

This Tiny Cryptid Crecheling? That speaks like a wizened old Master? Feels like a tiny star in the Force? Not a cute lil ball of light. A FUCKING STAR. Giant ball of gas in space, a burning ball of light, THAT kind of star! But... small? Person shaped. It's like meditating next to a Force Nexus.

They just? Hand you things. Or sabotage random ships. Literally just FUCKING SHOT a knight once, for no clear reason! All they would say is "it's not like you'll actually listen. This is the only way." What? Of COURSE WE'LL LISTEN! (No. They won't. Just ask Sifo. Ask Obi-Wan. The Sith, fear, and hubris have eroded the Jedi from within.)

The full blown confidence of an adult? Combined with the creepy "oh god. They're in THE VENTS!!!" Nature of highly force sensitive Crechelings?

Magnificent~☆

They can see into your SOUL. Are holding a toddler that squirms around, wiggles up to whisper in their ear, gets a nod, only for YOU to be somberly informed that your second in command (a life long friend) has betrayed you. Avoid wearing red. You will die on a Friday. By the way, they can't reach the counter... could you hand them those snacks?

One of the other one speaks to trees.

The trees SPEAK BACK.

Prophecy. Fuckin Terrifying Prophecy EVERYWHERE.

Did YOU want to know that your grandson will grow up to kill his brother? No? Too bad! Not even married yet? ALSO TOO BAD! Have FUN with that knowledge! How about learning that there is horrific suffering planets away? No. No there ISN'T anything you can do about it. Just... here! Have some Deeply Cursed Knowledge. From a toddler. Now! They're gonna go eat grass~☆

The appear and disappear at random. Climb the walls. Fuckin FLOAT. The Force itself is their imaginary friend! They literally consult it over PUDDING CHOICES. Sometimes? They talk in perfect synchronization, like a hive mind. Stare without blinking. One moment they are perfectly normal children... the next? Like PUPPETS.

Tiny avatars. Through which SOMETHING GREATER speaks. They KNOW, not think, KNOW what they need to do. You can not convince them. Trying just makes you an obstacle to be overcome.

They are four.

Toddlers and children. Younglings. Initiates!

I just? Want there to be? A portion of Deeply Cursed/Possessed Crechelings? That are just LIKE that. Loved regardless. Nothing wrong with them. They're just too strong for their lil bitty baby brains. Once they learn to shield better? It'll balance out. Anikin would have gone there, had he been found young.

It'd be hilarious? If what saves the galaxy? Is someone finally REMEMBERING that? And thinking to themselves?

"Hey, you know what might be good for that Skywalker kid? Being exposed to more Force Sensitives that GET him. We should put him on Cursed Crechelings duty for a bit." And??

Anikin? Is in LOVE? They are all so SMOL an NORMAL? Finally! Jedi who aren't EMOTIONALLY DISTANT! Shielded? What do mean "Shielded"? No I'm not shouting all the time! This is my normal speaking voice! *Skywalker confusion as he cuddles babies*

Cause like? He too? Spoke in horrifying prophecy? Was vaguely Anti-christ-y? Did the (o.o) see into your sooooooul stare? So WHAT? That's just how babies ARE!

.....what do you MEAN "no"?

Every day, throwing open Obi-Wan's poor, slowly being destroyed, front door like "Master! Did you know I am AN OUTLIER!? And REALLY LOUD!? Other people aren't emotionally crippled psychopaths, they're just really REALLY quite compared to me!!" "Ah. Yes, Anikin, please. Maybe say that LOUDER. I don't think the ENTIRE temple quite heard you... -_- "

Just?? Anikin Skywalker! And his Hoard of Creepy Possessed Crechelings that are TOTALLY NORMAL, Guys! All kids are like this! He's a GREAT role model and baby sitting! Yeah, it's the Clone wars, and no, he has NO idea how the entire Creche got onto the ship... but hey! Enrichment! That's good for them, right?

(^-^) (o.o) (|o.o|) (o,o) (o-o) (|o,o|)

*clones look from their general, to the tiny unblinking magic jedi babies, back to their general* s-sure?

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @starwarsblr

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Wield It

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You start your training with Qimir while also fighting the growing attraction you feel towards him.

Qimir Masterlist

You sit on a hill that overlooks the island. Your eyes are closed and you listen to your surroundings. You hear little critters chirping, waves crashing along the shores, the sound of Qimir breathing.

There's a buzzing sensation that courses through you and you know it's because Qimir draws closer. You feel him reaching out and, with your eyes still closed, you catch his wrist with your hand.

You open your eyes to see him smirking down at you, "Good," he says, staring at you with pride.

You drop his wrist and look away, staring out to the sea, "At the rate I've been going, I'm sure Mae will be much more suited to be your equal than I."

He looks at you curiously, "Does that thought bother you?"

You shrug, "Yes and no," you sigh, "Yes, because it proves to me that I'm not fit for this. No, because I still think Mae would be much more suited to be your equal than me."

"You have the potential. I sense a strong connection to the Force in you. You can have the power, Y/N. You just need to strengthen that connection, let it take over you. Then you can wield and bend it to however you like." He holds out his hand, "Stand up."

You place your hand in yours and he aids you to your feet. You stand there waiting for his next instruction.

"Close your eyes, do the same as before. Deep breaths, listen to your surroundings, but think of a time you were angry. A time that had your blood boiling, to the point you felt like you wanted everything around you to erupt in flames."

Your mind quickly flashes back to various times in your life where you felt angry, but none of them had the feeling that Qimir described. You thought back to your youth and then that's when it came.

You were a teenager. You came back from school to the apothecary your aunt owned. She was the one that took you in, raised you, and taught you how to run her shop. She always greeted you with a loving smile, but this time, she didn't.

You entered the shop to find it in disarray. You called for your aunt, hoping she would respond. But nothing.

Then you saw a pair of feet sticking out from behind the counter. You rushed over to her and she was already dead. You held her crying until the shop owner next door, came to help you.

Bounty hunters that weren't happy with a concoction your aunt gave them. In retaliation, they robbed and killed her.

The anger you felt towards them. The way you wanted to slaughter them after someone pointed them out to you a week later.

Going back to that memory, made your clench your fists and tighten your jaw. Your aunt was the only person who truly cared and loved you. And she was taken from you. Your aunt was taken from you. Rya was taken from you. You've primarily been alone and you were tired of it. You were angry that forces out of your control would take the people you cared about from you.

You wanted to take that control back.

"Amazing," you hear Qimir say and your eyes shoot open. Several rocks and boulders scattered around the hill were all suspended in the air. You feel that buzzing sensation again. It's much stronger this time.

"I told you," Qimir says, now standing behind you, whispering into your ear, "Let it take over you," he grabs your wrist, raising your arm out in front of you, "Wield and bend it."

You punch your fist out and the rocks zoom past you out into a rock pillar standing in the sea. The rocks pummel it, causing it to break and collapse.

You look over your shoulder and become incredibly aware how close Qimir is standing to you. You also feel one of his hands on your hips.

You clear your throat and take a few steps back, "That was...incredible."

"In due time, you'll be able to do much more than lift rocks," he gestures for you to follow him, "Let's eat."

____________________

You're trying to sleep. For the most part, the cave is dark, except for the little corner Qimir sits, working on his helmet.

You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position to lay in. But nothing. Your body is pleading to rest, but your mind can't seem to get the hint. Thoughts are racing, questions and worries litter your mind.

You roll over, facing the direction where Qimir sits. He looks up, "Something wrong?"

You sigh, forgoing sleep and slipping out of the bed. You walk over to Qimir's little work station, sitting on the ground beside him, "So what is this?"

"A helmet made out of cortosis. Extremely durable. No lightsaber or blaster can get through it."

"I never knew such a thing existed," you say in awe.

"They use helmets similar to these in the Jedi academy. Help us hone in on using the Force and relying on just the Force," he states as he solders his helmet.

You look up at him in surprise, "You were a Jedi?"

"A long time ago. Things didn't work out," he says with a smirk and you can't help but snort.

"Did you just make a joke?"

He shrugs, "I can be funny sometimes."

"Has Mae seen this funny side of you?"

Qimir's smirk falls to a serious expression, "She only knows me as her Master. She doesn't know that the Qimir she knows out there," he gestures vaguely out, "is the same one here."

You bring your knees to closer to you, arms resting on your knees, "So you really think Mae will be your acolyte?"

"We have similar visions, we want to see the downfall of the Jedi. They talk of peace, but peace is a lie. There has never been and never will be peace. And I want to show them that," he reaches out and rests his hand on yours, "Together, we'll be able to show them that."

You nod, "I'm trying, Qimir. I hope you know that."

"I do. I appreciate you, for being here, for allowing this to happen."

You suddenly find yourself yawning and Qimir gives you a playful look, "Am I boring you?"

You shake your head insistently, "No, no. I just-I think my mind has finally caught up to what my body's been telling it."

Qimir rubs your hand and then pats it, "Rest. Your training continues tomorrow."

"Good night, Qimir," you say as you stand and head back to your bedroll.

"Good night," he murmurs, eyes stuck on you as you slip into bed, rolling over to face away from him. There's a pulling in his chest as he continues to watch you from afar.

He rubs at his chest, trying to soothe the ache. He knows nothing but you will soothe the ache in his chest he's still unsure about.

[stvolanis]

i loveeeeee ur writing ah!!!!! just read ur most recent farleigh one and i was foaming at the mouth <3 idk if ur reqs are open but i cant stop thinking about being in a situationship with farleigh and finally getting sick of it, u break up with him and hes like ‘?? whatever’ thinking that u will come back but when u dont after a few days/weeks he starts lowkey panicking and basically begging u to take him back��� just need him crying begging and being pathetic <3 rlly making him beg for it and purposely making him jealous with other guys just to make him suffer :p then when u finally decide to forgive him he fucks u crazy good and RAW 💕

Thank you so much! Also, sorry if this isn’t like EXACTLY what you wanted D:

Love & War

PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start! X Fem! Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, situationship, toxic! Farleigh, mentions of drugs & alcohol, angst, possessiveness, jealousy, crying

NSFW WARNINGS: Switch! Farleigh, Switch! Reader, choking, spitting, tummy bulge, face sitting, breath play, slight size kink, slapping, degradation, praise, dumbification

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒��� ˚

Farleigh Start was a cunning, asshole of a man. You’d know, because you’ve been in love with him since you’re late highschool days.

Well—you didn’t know him personally till you both started attending Oxford. You admired him from a distance, as did many other people. You were never popular enough to bask in his limelight. You only ever dreamed of being with someone as amazing as him.

You thought Farleigh had no idea who you were, and truth be told, he didn’t. But he knew of you. He seen you everywhere, always somehow where he was. You were pretty, probably the most prettiest girl he’d ever seen; you were just so quiet. He knew that the people he hung around would eat you alive. You wouldn’t survive in his world.

So, he never dragged you into it. He watched you from afar for years, both of you unknowingly having feelings for each other. Deep down inside, Farleigh knew his friends weren’t the only reason he couldn’t be with you. He, himself had many issues of his own. One of the worst ones being his fear of rejection, and the second runner up; his pride. Always held so high, never coming down for anyone. It would get him hurt one day, but he’d have to realize that on his own.

When you began attending Oxford, you became friends with Oliver, who had become friends with Felix. He was your ticket into the “in crowd”, as you liked to call it.

You attended parties, stuck around for drinks and quickly grew popularity of your own. This didn’t go unnoticed by Farleigh, who you finally, after years of silence, began to talk to.

It was everything you imagined. He was nice, funny, a bit of a bitch in just the right way. Even when you were in a group of people, your eyes somehow always found his. The two of you would sneak away together, talk about nothing aimlessly for hours on end. Counting stars as you rambled about your favorite constellation.

At night, you’d meet at the bridge, sit on the edge in complete silence just to be in each others presence. Your hands would meet, and electricity sparked through your body. He made you feel like you were walking on clouds, and there was never a dim day when you were with him.

He was charismatic, confident, charming—everything you wanted to be. You were complete opposites of each other, but in just the right way to balance each other out. He noted every little thing about you, so much so that he began to do some of the things you did.

He’d use the dorky slang you used subconsciously when talking to other people, or start playing with the pretty rings on his finger like you told him you did when you got nervous. He listened to the music you recommend him, and connected the dots as to why you liked those songs. It all made sense, they explained you perfectly.

Everything was going great, till it wasn’t.

You didn’t know how it happened, or why, or maybe even what you could’ve done that changed him—but suddenly, he started acting different around you. The time you spent together was shortening and as were his touched and glances.

And the worst part about it? You weren’t in a relationship. You never where, but everyone just kinda knew that you were Farleighs’, and Farleigh was yours. No one ever questioned it, not even you, till now.

As you sat across Farleigh at the pub, playing with the flimsy black straw in your cocktail. You were so tired of him and his hot and cold actions and words. First moment he wanted you, and the next, he acts like he doesn’t even know you. It hurts, and you were sick of it.

Farleigh was talking to Felix about their home in Saltburn and stupid stories of how they used to throw these ‘amazingly grand’ parties during the summer and breaks they had. You huffed, standing up before harshly pushing in your chair. Why did you have to sit here and deal with this fuckary if you didn’t have to? You deserved better than the half-assed shit he was barely even offering.

As you walked away from the table full of people, a certain pair of eyes followed you, but you’d rather have died than look back. You heard footsteps follow hastily behind you as you exited the pub, the cold air welcoming you as you shivered.

“What’s your problem?” He shouted from behind you. You laughed dryly, spinning around to face him on your heel. “Oh you must be fucking kidding.” You laughed out. “My problem? No, what the fuck is your problem?” You yelled back at him.

“You’re the one who stormed off like a damn toddler! So enlighten me.” He fired back at you with furrowed brows. You felt your eyes water. God, you didn’t want to cry in front of him, but it hurt so badly. “Farleigh…why are you being like this?” You muttered.

He groaned as he ran a hand down is face. “Jesus, what are you on about?” He yelled out. “You keep leading me on!! I don’t understand it. You want me one second and the next you don’t!” You yelled back, pausing for a moment.

“You act like you love me and leave me the next second and it hurts, Farleigh. You hurt me!” You sobbed out, wiping your tears from your cheeks with your sleeve. He was taken aback for a moment, his mouth opening and closing. Almost as it he was at a loss for words. “That’s not—no, I didn’t—“ he started, but you cut him off as he reached to grab you.

“No. We’re done. Whatever we had is done. It’s over.” You said as you back away from him. Something inside of him snapped, and you could see it in the way his jaw clenched and eyes hardened. “Fine. Go on then. See if I give a fuck.” He chuckled out, shrugging his shoulders.

You couldn’t believe him. You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out his mouth. After everything you’ve said and done together, he has the audacity to act like he’s the superior one in this situation? It was the icing on the cake for you.

Tears ran down your face, and as they hit the ground, Farleigh felt his heart clench. Never did he wanna hurt you, but it’s what he had to do, or so he thought. He was gonna have to leave to go back to Saltburn with Felix in a month, and he couldn’t bring himself to take you.

Yes, he had fun times at Saltburn—but his family was crazy, rich, narcissistic assholes and he didn’t want you around them. More over, he didn’t want someone like Venetia to corrupt you in that way. He didn’t want you to become like her.

He knew he was being a dick, distancing himself from you. And he planned to keep it that way, but god, you made it nearly impossible to stay away. You were so inviting, how could he not succumb to his urges when it comes to you? He knew better, but he felt on top of the world when he was with you and he didn’t wanna let that go.

Watching you walk away from him right now made tears form in his own eyes, but all he could do is watch as you slipped further and further away from him. And he knew it was all his fault. All because he couldn’t communicate to you what the problem with himself was. He felt like such a coward, but he refused to hurt you more than he already had.

It had only been two weeks since you and Farleigh fell off. It was hard for you, and it was the hardest thing you’d ever done, but it was needed. You knew that.

When you stopped talking to him, you continued being friends with Felix and Oliver, but it was a nuisance. You were trying your hardest to forget about the tall, curly haired man and move on with your life, but they nearly made it impossible.

When you would all hang out, other friends included, Farleigh would show up and say act as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you. Felix and Oliver weren’t dumb, Farleigh was the one who came crying to them about what had happened. They seen right through Farleighs facade, acting as if he’s okay.

They were doing this kind of stuff on purpose, casually. Asking you about Farleigh, or bringing him up in conversation. They wanted you to give Farleigh another shot, but you gave him one too many chances to redeem himself, and you weren’t having it.

Felix invited you to one of his little frat parties, and I say little very lightly, because everyone knows the entire campus attends his parties.

You had no interest, but Oliver had insisted on you coming. Making it his mission to drag you out of the comfort of your bed. “You need this.” He insisted as he dug through your clothes. He pulled out an ed-hardy, strapless dress and some red platformed boots. “Oh this is fuckin’ perfect, love.” He smiled as he held it up to you.

“I dunno, Ollie. I don’t think I should go..” you muttered as you sat down on the edge of your bed, bringing your knees to your chest. Oliver sighed. “Cmon, just let loose tonight. You’ve been moping around for like ever!” He huffed out, yet a smile returning to his face as he held up some jewelry. “These’ll go good with it.” He urged.

You groaned and got up, snatching the clothes and jewelry out of his hands. “Out.” You grumbled. Oliver clapped his hands excitedly as he stepped out so you could get dressed.

The ed-hardy dress he chose for you hugged your curves in all the right places, your tits pushed together with the small padding built into the dress. You let Oliver back in and his jaw dropped. “You look fucking edible! Maybe you’ll get laid tonight.” He said, bumping your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, yet a smile danced on your lips. Oliver always knew how to make the best out of a bad situation, and you loved him for that. “Let’s go before I change my mind.” You laughed, he nodded his head.

When you arrived to the party, the lights were flashing different colors. Red, blue, green, etc. it reflected off of Felixs’ shirt as he approached you, Farleigh following next to him. You clicked your tongue and looked around for an exit.

A boy caught your eye. You’d seen him around the campus, he was friends with Felix a while ago but Farleigh didn’t like him, which ended with Felix ending their friendship. Nathan, was his name, you thought as you approached him.

His eyes trailed up and down your body, stopping at your breasts that were spilling out of the thin top part of your dress. “Hey.” You purred, batting your lashes up at him. He smiled. He was handsome, you had to admit—but no where near as handsome as Farleigh.

You shook your head from the thought, directing your attention back to the mediocre boy in front of you. “Hey, baby.” He whistled out. You giggled, obviously fake, but he couldn’t tell; most likely strung out on cocaine and alcohol.

His hands snaked around your waist and he pulled you to him. He was disgustingly sweaty and reeked of cheap cologne, almost as if he poured the whole bottle on himself. Sickeningly too strong, making you gag. You forced yourself to ignore it, instead focusing on the way his hands cupped your ass in your dress.

You turned around, your back pressed to his front, only to be met with Farleighs eyes from across the body-filled room. He was staring at you, then down to the hands around your waist, and his jaw clenched. Anger, betrayal and hurt was all Farleigh felt as he watched some stranger feel you up.

But he couldn’t do anything about it. He brought this upon himself, and he knew that. But he also knew he’d do anything for your forgiveness, so he marched his way over to where you stood. You knew you should have ran away, but you didn’t.

You let him rip you away from the stranger holding you. You let him drag you all the way back to your dorm silently, a painfully tight grip on your upper arm the whole way there. You knew this was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

Once you reached your dorm, he slammed you against the door that was now shut. “What the fuck was that, hm?” He muttered. But something was different. His voice, still hard, wavered and you noticed tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You muttered.

All the sudden, he broke down. The tall boy, usually filled with confidence and pride fell to his knees before you with a small, barely noticeable sob. You stood there, unknowing of what to do, or what to say. This was new territory for you.

“M’sorry, baby. Please—“ he said through his tears. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Know I was I piece of shit, I’m sorry.” He repeated the words you longed to hear over and over again. “I’m sorry.” He said. Those two words weren’t ever said enough from him, and you basked in every moment he said it. It made you feel a sense of power over him.

You turned his arrogant, cocky ass into a whiney little boy begging for your forgiveness at your feet and, nasty enough, you fucking loved it. You loved that only you were able to bring him to his knees like this.

“Oh, You’re sorry? Hm?” You cooed down at him, running your fingers through his curly hair. He sniffled as he looked up at you, his pretty lashes wet with tears. “So fuckin’ sorry. Promise I’ll be better.” He muttered out, hugging your stomach.

“Prove it.” You told him. He rubbed his eyes with one of his hands as he looked up at you again. “What?” He muttered. You smiled. “Get on the bed.” was all you said.

He nodded before climbing onto the bed, laying on his back. “What—“ he started, but you didn’t let him finish. “Eat my pussy good, make me cum with your mouth and then I’ll forgive you.” You said. He sat up on his elbows and watched you undress through hooded eyes, till you were wearing absolutely nothing.

Your nipples grew hard under the cold air, and the wetness between your thighs he could see from where he lied on your bed; it glistened in the dim light of your bedroom. Your lips were glossy and plump as your tongue glided over them, and he felt his cock harden in his pants.

You climbed on top of him, hovering your pussy over his face. His mouth watered at the sight, and he gripped his cock through his pants. Your lowered yourself onto him till your full weight rested on his face.

He began lapping at your cunt with everything he had. Licking and slurping at your juices that ran down his chin. You tasted like heaven on his tongue, and he couldn’t get enough. You were the drug in him, and he was going fucking wild.

He was a starved man, and it had been too long since he had you like this. He whined when you lifted off of his face, pushing his head back down when he tries to extend his neck to connect his mouth to your pussy again desperately.

You click your tongue. “So desperate, hm?” You mocked with a laugh. Farleigh played nice long enough, you were holding up his meal, and he didn’t like it. “M’not fuckin done.” He growled out. You let out a gasp as his arms wrapped around your thighs, slamming you back down onto his mouth.

You moaned out as his tongue swirled around your bundle of nerves. “Farleigh!” You yelped. He groaned into your messy cunt, sending vibrations through it that had your head falling back. “Perfect little cunt.” He said, Voice muffled by your pussy.

His laps at your cunt more erratic as your moans became more high pitched, signaling that you were on the verge of your orgasm. Your hips moved against his face, your hands entangling themselves in his hair as you glided your cunt across his tongue.

“M’gonna cum, oh my god—“ you moaned out as you squeezed your breast. Farleigh moaned. “Cum on my fuckin’ tongue. Good girl” He grumbled against you as you felt a wave of pleasure roll off of you. The little pinch in your stomach finally releasing into that delicious orgasm you were so desperately chasing.

Farleigh was drowning in your juices, slurping and licking, taking everything you had to offer. He let you ride out your orgasm, your little clit bumping his nose in just the right way, your moans growing lower as you came down from your high breathlessly.

“M not done with you. Actin like a fuckin slut, letting that motherfucker touch you.” He said through clenched teeth as flipped you around onto your back, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

He lined his cock to your entrance, clenching around nothing. He smeared his pre-cum around your folds before slowly, almost teasingly, sinking into you. You felt him fill you so full of him, almost painfully. The sting was so agonizingly good, and you wanted more.

When he bottomed out in you, his bottom lip was between his teeth, biting down so hard he nearly drew blood. You yelped when he lifted his hips before harshly slamming himself back into you, over and over again.

His pace began to pick up, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass loudly. You gripped around him firmly, so much so that he could barely pull out of you. It made him wince, but he wanted this more than anything. He’s been craving this since you left him; he jacked himself off at night to the thought of being in your warmth.

His hand found it’s way to your throat, gripping tightly. “Take this cock, baby. Know this slutty pussy can take it.” He muttered as pried your mouth open with his thumb. He spit into your mouth, lightly slapping the side of your face, signaling for you to swallow, to which you did.

You felt so small beneath him as he pounded relentlessly into you, the grip on your throat never wavering. His groans were like music to your ear, and the sudden flip in him turned you on to no extent. It was fucking perfect how he could be so needy in two different ways. First, begging for anything you’ll give him, and the next, taking what he wanted from you desperately.

“You with me, honey?” He moaned out against your ear. You mumbled incoherently, your words slurring together. You couldn’t focus enough to form a sentence with the way he was fucking you, your mind going blank. “Fucked you dumb. My stupid little whore.” He mocked as his hips stuttered against yours.

You knew he was close by the way he throbbed and swelled inside you, squeezing down onto him more as he hit that bundle of nerves inside of you with each thrust. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gripped onto Farleighs wrist that held your neck, heels digging into his back.

His breathing was uneven and both of your bodies were sweaty messes together, but what really had you in a chokehold was the way that even when he was dominating you, his whimpers never stopped. Still so needy for your cunt as you let him take what he needed from you helplessly.

He came deep inside of you, painting your gummy walls white with his seed. His hips stilled against you, making sure to stuff you full of his cum, not wanting any of it to go to waste. When he finally released your neck, you looked down to where you were connected but your eyes froze on the sight before you.

His tamed mound of hair above his cock was soaked with your juices, but what really got you, was the evident bulge showing through your stomach. He grabbed your hand, holding it onto your stomach where the bulge of his cock was. “Feel that? Remember, only I can fuck you this good.” He spat out as he pressed down, and you released a moan at the sensation.

His free hand traveled down to your clit, rubbing harshly and fast. “Gonna cum, please, can I cum?” You whimpered out as you clenched the sheets beneath you. Farleigh nodded feverishly. “Cum for me, be a good girl.” He muttered as he slowly fucked his cock into you at just the right pace.

The way he dragged along your walls, paired with the stimulation on your swollen clit, deprived clit had you reaching for the moon as you came for a second time tonight. Your mouth hung agape, not a word slipping out as a breathless moan slid past your plump lips. You needed this. You’d been craving this, and you finally got it.

Farleigh nestled himself in you, leaning his head down till his forehead was pressed against yours. Your hair was matted to your forehead from sweat, as was Farleighs, but you didn’t care. It was the least of your concerns. All you wanted was him, and you finally had him again, and this time it actually felt right.

But the words he spoke was what sealed the deal for you.

“I love you, y/n. From the moment I seen you sitting alone at lunch when we we’re sophomores back in Highschool, I’ve loved you. I loved you when you were small, shy and quiet, barely knowing anyone; and I love you now when you’re the socialist butterfly I know. I love you when you laugh, when you smile, when you speak, and even when you cry.” He said, tears running down your face.

“I will always love you.” He finished, kissing the tears that fell onto your rosy cheeks.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

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[youuuimeanmee]

This chapter might be the start of literally the biggest thing ever and I'm SCARED.

I have SHIVERS.

Almost every important characters are gathering in one place.

Our Eden kids are finally playing outside the school.

For a spy like Twillight, this festival is literally a treasure of intels.

(Though, I was surprised when Twillight mention that Glooman Pharmaceuticals has no further connection with the Desmonds. I thought it's gonna be involved in some kind of drugs' development for war, but ig I was wrong.)

Remember how Twillight always look down on Anya because she can't study, she's hard to teach, and she doesn't excell in any sport or any other talents (except classical language)?

Now look at them.

Twillight finally sees just how valuable Anya is. How much Anya, a presumably six-year-old, has accomplished in the span of 6 months. I repeat. 6. months.

He's pleased because it's really convenient for his mission.

And yet, look at what Jeff wished for the kids.

The irony. The sweet, sweet irony.

As much as it pains him to acknowledge how right Jeff's words are, he cannot. He cannot dwell into such sentiments, because he's a spy. A spy must seize every opportunity to gain any information neccesary for his mission. For the sake of his goal; a world peace. For that goal, he will do anything. Even if he has to use his "daughter" and his "wife" for his own convenience.

Because of that, the very least he could to them is protect their well-being and happiness.

Twillight has established that since long ago. But will things change after this arc? That is the big question.

Now we are entering, what I call, "the fortune teller arc." (until we get a better name imma stick to this one.)

Somehow, in every series I've read that has a fortune teller in it, it ended up changes (read: fucks up) the MC's life forever.

I've been predicting the involvement of Crowley in the future; from his name reference, his hairstyle, his excellence in Classical language, everything.

Look whose name Endo uses for the most popular fortune teller.

Heh.

(will Arnold Crowley appear in next chapter? Will he meet Anya in this arc?)

And look at the star of this chapter, who also plays as a fortune teller!

Melinda Desmond.

Who would've thought.

Suddenly, her earrings and ring's design make so much sense.

Is it safe to say now that Crowley and Melinda Desmond are occultists?

Or maybe just one of them?

I know jumping to conclusion is dangerous, but I just can't help it.

I still can't speak if Melinda and Crowley family are related to each other because there's no evidence of their relation (yet). But I can at least tell you this:

Melinda probably uses fortune telling as a way to collect informations. Her ad speaks for poor, desperate people. She doesn't charge her clients for a single cent. Even if she already claimed that her predictions are way off, it doesn't matter for desperate people. Desperate people will use desperate means. Poor people are not poor because they wanted to. There must be a reason, a circumstances; that intel is probably what Melinda aims to get.

Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe Melinda is genuinely a noble person, and she's just trying to help as many people as possible with her "free" fortune telling. Who knows.

Though, it is peculiar to note that Melinda only started recently. How recent, I wonder. Is it before, or after the dinner she had with Donovan, her husband?

Hmmm.

I'm also curious at Endo's reference for Melinda's alias: Lunaluna Selena. Luna, as in, Latin for [the moon]? Selena, as in, Selene [the Greek & Roman's moon goddess]?

The moon, huh. Remember how Anya's power is heavily reliant on the moon? Like, she lost her power when it's a new moon?

Hmmmmm.

TLDR; Anya confessed to Damian that she can read minds. Now Anya enters a fortune teller place. Twillight used to underestimate Anya's ability a lot. Now he sees how valuable she is, yet, he is stuck between his logic (wanting to utilize her to the max) and his heart (wanting to free her from the burden of his mission and let her be a happy normal kid). Melinda and Yor are friends. Now they meet again, when Melinda is doing her side hustle. Arnold Crowley is a kid who excels in Classical Language, and holds a great interest in Anya. Now we see that Crowley family runs a popular fortune-teller. Melinda just had an awful dinner with Donovan. Now we see that she recently run a fortune-telling stall for free. Almost all important characters in SxF are gathering in one place. All build-ups are seemingly leading towards this moment.

Let's give Endo some space & time to cook, shall we.

[starlightandsunshine]

Ok but like a Jedi Padawan just gets so fed up of the natborns being all "uh...um.." when they need to address a clone and mixing up the clone's names and never getting it right. And they have to be doing it deliberately because the clones are really not that similar. I mean c'mon.

So they go off to make a video to post on the Holonet about it because its not just rude anymore its downright disrespectful with all that the clones have sacrificed.

So they start talking and they're getting more and more upset the longer they talk about it and are getting more and more agitated on behalf of their friends. And there's a couple of clones with them that are feeling really touched that their Commander is doing this for them and cares so much that people keep mixing them up. They appreciate the indignation on their behalf even though they get that it can be a bit difficult to tell them apart when they're not standing next to each other or when they're next to a brother with similar armour to someone that doesn't know them very well.

And then the Padawan like asks them to come over and puts them next to each other and says "And how can you not tell them apart? They look vaguely similar at best. Like yes they're both human and have the same hair colour and I guess they have the same eyes kind of but they look literally nothing alike!"

And the clones just have this massive "????" moment because. They're literally physically identical. That's. that's literally the point. That's what being a clone is.

And this Padawan's Master is just there in the background nodding along, agreeing with what their Padawan is saying because yes, that is true. And people are being pretty rude about it. And they didn't want to say anything because people get weird about it but it's really not acceptable at this point that the people who are always working with the clones refuse to have the basic common decency of putting in the basic effort required to learn which name belongs to who.

And the Clone Commander sitting next to him just start looking vaguely horrified because. There seems to be a miscommunication here somehow.

So they interrupt and they're just like "sir? sir you know that we're like literally identical right? that aside from how we do our hair and the tattoos that we choose and the scars left behind from battle, at a fundamental level we are physically identical and therefore basically indistinguishable right?"

*crickets chirping*

The Padawan just bluescreens, full on shocked pikachu, lady doing maths face because. ???They're not??? They don't look at all the same what does he mean they're physically identical!

And their Master is equally confused bc like, yeah they know that in principle but like of course cloning doesn't mean actually identical just genetically the same, that has nothing to do with appearance!

Right?

No, no that's not how it works.

Excuse them a minute they need to go and call Master Nu in the Archives and check out a medical article a second because that can't be right.

There's an abrupt jump cut and the Padawan is just sitting awkwardly in front of the camera with a clone on either side.

"So I owe an apology to all the people I was calling nasty names in my head for their apparent deliberate rudeness for refusing to learn how to tell the clones apart. I was apparently using a sampling bias.

It turns out that the clones are in fact physically identical and virtually indistinguishable from a distance. [muttering under their breath] Wild."

The clones crack up a little bit right as the video ends and it goes absolutely viral.

Because it turns out that the Jedi may have psychic space powers but they're all basically completely faceblind and didn't realise that other people don't tell each other apart by what their souls feel like or something. Unclear, the general public isn't really sure what is they're looking at to do this.

This is an odd thought that I had. Canonically the Jedi are able to tell the clones apart easily with the Force. Let's take it a step further. Because of the extra senses given by the Force, the Clones really don’t even look the same to the Jedi. (Sort of like that online test that goes around about how many color shades you can see, where some people can see four shades easily but others see one block of color.)  They never quite forget that their troops are clones but whenever someone talks about them looking the same, or like Jango Fett, all the Jedi just laugh awkwardly or are really confused (There is some “are they talking about the helmets? I mean the men paint the helmets, but maybe the visor looks the same?”).

I just want wholesome shenanigans where various nat borns interact with the Jedi and the clones. With lots of side eye while the Jedi try fruitlessly to figure out why “they keep saying that Cody looks like Jango Fett, what?” or “How are they confusing Fives with Echo?”