#I have no idea what I'm doing when it goes to that lol

[nevertheless-moving]

So You Just Killed Palpatine

In Which, Much To Obi-Wan Kenobi's Surprise, While Dealing With The Consequences of One's Own Action's Can Be A Lot, It Isn't Always Entirely A Bad Thing

originally inspired by this and this from anon and husborth Part One, Part Two, Part Three ... Part Fo ... uh ... there's memes somewhere... Anyway Here's Part Five:

Obi-Wan blinked awake, head cloudy and body heavy, as if under unusually high gravity. But no, there was the all-too-recognizable ceiling of the temple healing halls, its mosaic ceiling drifting in lazy, clockwise circles.

What did I do this time? Wait, there was something I had to tell the rest of the Jedi...something important...

Oh dear, he was on the good painkillers, wasn't he?

“Obi-Wan?” someone familiar asked, voice and force presence ringing with a startling jab of hope.

“Bant?” he tried to reply, only to be met with burning pain in his throat. The only thing he managed to get out was an unintelligible coughing fit which pulled sharply at his gut.

“Take it easy!” she urged, moving into his blurry line of sight. “You’ve had extensive abdominal surgery, and your throat was — was crushed rather severely — it’s going to take more time for the grafts to heal.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chastened, before cautiously starting the process of pushing himself up in bed, Bant hovering nervously all the while. The effort made his muscles ache and the room spin faster, but things settled down once he was sitting up.

He looked around, sagging in relief at a small oily handprint on one of the otherwise sterile visitor chairs. Anakin had been here recently, and was in good enough health to be tinkering. Good, that was good. That was important.

He suddenly realized half his vision was obscured and sluggishly raised a hand to his face, only to find heavy cloth.

“I’m sorry, we weren’t able to save your eye,” Bant said softly. “Once you’re a little more healed we can discuss artificial or bioengineered replacement options.”

She plucked a cup off a counter overcrowded with a dizzying array of flowers. “Here, drink some of this if you’re feeling up to it, it’ll make talking a little easier.”

Obi-Wan accepted the drink, only to feel it slide out of numb hands. Bant gently closed her hands around his, helping to guide the drink to his lips. He grimaced at the taste.

“Bacta infused water,” she apologized. “You’re going to be drinking bacta infused liquids for some time, I’m afraid.”

A wave of exhaustion swept over him and Bant set the cup down as Obi-Wan sagged.

“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.

“Anakin’s fine, he’s completely safe,” Bant said with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. “He’ll be annoyed to know he missed you waking up, he very much wanted to be there.”

Obi-Wan was going to say something else, but sleep dragged him under first.

//

Obi-Wan opened his eyes — his eye — to the sight of Quinlan Vos scowling over a datapad. The dark spot on the left side of his vision was more noticeable than before. What the kriff did I do to myself?

He shifted, irritated at how lethargically his body responded. The pad fell to the ground with a clatter as Quinlan lurched towards the bed.

“Obi-Wan! Hold on, let me — you’re supposed to have the water before you try to talk.”

Quinlan helped hold up a cup and straw so Obi-Wan could take several short sips of the unpleasantly viscous and vaguely pineapple flavored water.

“How are you feeling?” Quinlan asked, hovering with uncharacteristic anxiousness.

Obi-Wan paused to think. “Weak,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “How long have I been...”

Guilt flashed over Vos’s face. “You were in and out of Bacta tanks and surgery for a full two weeks. And then another week in an induced coma. And then another week in a self-healing trance. You had...a lot of internal injuries. I’m so sorry Obi-Wan—this is all my fault.”

Obi-Wan stared at Quinlan blankly for a moment. His face helped the memories to start trickling in.

"Yes..." he said slowly. "Yes — you knocked on my door... you said... Vos... please just... just tell me if I hallucinated anything — did I try to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?"

"I'd say you succeeded," Quinlan replied, half-smiling, half-grimacing.

"Did I — did we think he was a pedophile, only—”

He had to pause, throat burning as he fought a coughing fit. He swallowed more disgustingly flavored water before finishing the thought.

“—only to discover that he was in fact not sexually grooming Anakin, but was doing a number of other terrible things? And did he... did he — did he electrocute me...”

Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he took several more sips, throat filled with an uncomfortable fizzing sensation.

Quinlan nodded, wincing. “I mean parts of that you know better than me but yeah, that matches with what I understand.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan finished the cup, mulling it over.

Quinlan Vos muttered something under his breath that Obi-Wan couldn't quite make out, but the word "dramatic" almost definitely featured.

Grey crept in around the corners of his vision, then black.

//

When he opened his eyes — his eye, he'd have to get used to that — next, he was greeted by a convenient and increasingly familiar cup at his bedside, as well as Master Windu. Obi-Wan quickly reached for the water, clutching it in both hands and taking a long drink.

Spurred on by the sight of the Master of the Order, he also reached for the urgent thought from earlier, wanting to get it out before he slipped back under —

“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”

The corners of Mace’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, Knight Kenobi," he said. "We’re aware of that now. You’ve proved it to be the case quite publicly. And ended the threat with remarkable... thoroughness.”

Obi-Wan head fell back. “A Sith Lord... the Chancellor!” he said in amazement. He was relieved to find his throat only barely twinging at his outburst.

“It truly stretches the imagination,” Mace agreed tolerantly.

“You’re telling me!” Obi-Wan took another long drink, head spinning.

Master Windu smoothed a crease from his robe before saying, with extreme delicacy, “I don't wish to pressure you into speaking before you've healed... but I admit, we’ve all been wondering how exactly you knew.”

"He force choked me and electrocuted me with Sith Lightning. Lighting! I thought that was a myth!” He drained the cup, hands shaking slightly.

“Yes,” Mace said quietly. “The healers were amazed you survived so long... let alone had the strength to fight back with such strength. We’re all extremely grateful to the Force for keeping you alive long enough for us to reach you.”

Obi-Wan made a mental note to feel grateful later, but his mental space was a bit of a mess at the moment, and he wasn't entirely certain he had filed it away correctly.

Master Windu sighed. “We would have been there sooner but I’m afraid none of us had any idea that you were going to confront a Sith.” A twinge of reproach crept into Windu's voice, but Obi-Wan set it aside along with the gratitude, to be examined at some later date. Ideally when his head felt less full of bantha wool.

“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.

“Well you figured it out before the Council at least,” Mace replied, not without humor.

He couldn't help but snort. “Yes, because he shot lightning at me. I mean the force choking happened first but... lightning. Lightning!”

Lines formed between Master Windu's brows as he looked down at him. “As much as it pains me, I understand the risk assessment in not telling the High Council about a Sith Chancellor of the Republic, and goading a public fight was probably the best political move possible. But why start the confrontation so privately? It seemed rather — apologies, we can debrief on that when you're rested. I presume you were trying to get a confession about the droid and clone armies?”

Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.

“The what.”

The lines on Master Windu’s face deepened. “The... Kamonian clone army — the clones of Jango Fett...”

Obi-Wan’s eyes got wider. “Jango Fett—you mean Galidrean Jango Fett? The Jedi Killer? Palpatine made a clone army of him?”

Mace was silent for a long while, staring at Obi-Wan as though he were a particularly concerning puzzle. Obi-Wan chewed on the straw, mind wandering to whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Master Windu for a refill. As unpleasant as the flavor was, the fizzing did make his throat feel better.

“Knight Kenobi...” Mace finally said, speaking very slowly. “Do you remember why Chancellor Palpatine attacked you? The soul healers were quite certain the Sith Lord didn’t breach your inner shields but I think you might be suffering from some memory loss...”

His left eye itched; he resisted the urge to reach for it. Obi-Wan sank further into the cushions behind him, trying to think. Were there gaps in his memory? No, as usual, it all seemed a fairly clear path from Quinlan Vos knocking on his door to Obi-Wan ending up unconscious in the healing halls.

“Why Palpatine starting attacking?" he mused. "I suppose he wasn't going to just dance around forever — force, when he dodged my blaster shot, I simply could not understand how — it all happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the wall by a Dark —”

“Stop,” Master Windu ordered, raising his hand. He took a deep breath, radiating calm into the force.

“Do you remember what Palpatine said immediately before you shot him?” he asked patiently.

Obi-Wan shifted, feeling a pang of awkwardness as he muttered the answer guiltily under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Knight Kenobi, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He said, ah, ‘you’re a Jedi’ and ‘you can’t kill an unarmed man.’”

Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.

There was a long pause while Obi-Wan fidgeted with the straw. He was starting to feel that perhaps his thoughts were even less clear than he had assumed them to be, and he was not handling this conversation particularly well.

Windu took another deep breath, radiating slightly less calm then before.

“Knight Kenobi. Why did you shoot the Chancellor of the Republic?”

“...I was trying to kill him,” Obi-Wan said, looking down.

“Why?”

Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Kenobi, speak clearly.”

“Well—ah—it actually turns out that I had misunderstood...I mean it had certainly seemed like...but he wasn’t actually...doing exactly what I thought...”

Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.

It occurred to Obi-Wan for the first time, that, considering his plan of running away and becoming a bounty hunter was no longer possible nor, perhaps necessary, he could have misrepresented some of the timeline of events vis a vis sith slaying. Or better yet, pretended to have memory loss.

In his defense, the whole experience had been extremely unnerving! For all that weeks had clearly elapsed for everyone else, Obi-Wan was still processing Chancellor Palpatine shooting lightning out of his fingers.

A wave of exhaustion flooded over him, and he sank into it with relief, recognizing now the sickly sweet painkillers pulsing through his blood, clouding his thoughts and pulling him under.

//

Unfortunately, Mace Windu was still there when he woke up. Kriff.

He opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but Windu raised his hand, cutting off any poorly thought out explanations.

Master Windu took a deep breath, radiating very little calm by this point.

“Let me get this clear. Nod if yes, shake your head if no, did you go into the Chancellor’s office with the intent to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Did you know he was a Sith before you went into his office?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“Did you suspect he was a Sith?" Mace asked, slightly desperate.

Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.

“Before you went into the Chancellor’s office, were you aware that he was working with the Kaminoians to commission a clone army?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.

“Did you know he was working with the trade federation to commission a droid army?”

Another no.

“Did you suspect anything about these armies? Anything about a larger plot to destabilize the Republic? Destroy the Jedi? Become Emperor?”

Obi-Wan shook his head at each question, eyes widening with shock.

Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.

“Knight Kenobi...” he asked with a pained expression. “Did you... attempt to assassinate the Chancellor of the republic for personal reasons born out of some sort of misunderstanding? Only to inadvertently save the Republic?”

“I mean once I found out that he was a Sith... I of course changed tactics... and personal is a bit... but... that... Well. More or less sums the situation up, yes.”

Mace WIndu stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. He didn't entirely trust his ability to explain things well at the moment, and ultimately decided to err on the side of silence.

Obi-Wan vaguely wished he could slip into sleep, but was fairly sure that it would be rude and possibly obvious to do twice in one conversation. His throat itched and he considered once again asking for more water, ultimately deciding against it.

Minutes passed, Master Windu staring blankly at the wall above Obi-Wan’s shoulders, while Obi-Wan's mind started to wander.

Who on earth had been paying to feed a clone army? How was Quinlan doing at getting Anakin to brush his teeth? Am I going to prison? Ohh that’s why the force was so insistent on killing Palpatine. Maybe that would help explain things to Master Windu? Though 'the force told me to' is  generally not considered a good excuse, in of itself, for acts of violence...though this is a rather unique situation...

Eventually Master Plo walked in, letting out a pleased noise.

“There he is! The Hero of the Republic!”

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

“Is that what they’re calling me?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, when it became clear Master Windu wasn’t ready to address everything wrong with that.

“Oh! Your drink is empty! Mace, Vokara was very clear with her instructions!” Master Plo scolded.

Mace Windu didn’t reply.

Plo-Koon snatched the cup, filling it up from a pitcher across the room and talking boisterously. “Well, the public is throwing around a lot of titles, but since you already had Sith Slayer...”

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan said faintly, accepting the terrible water and drinking it for lack of anything better to do.

Plo-Koon patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s going to be very difficult for you to dodge commendations for your actions. Now that you’re awake you’re going to be faced with quite a backlog of requests for ceremonies and interviews—”

Obi-Wan choked. “Ceremonies?” he repeated in a higher pitch. He snuck a look at Master Windu. His eyes were closed, though he didn't appear to be meditating.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Yes, ceremonies," Plo-Koon said with far too much relish. "Turns out there are quite a lot of old traditions on the books regarding —"

Master Healer Vokara Che entered the room at brisk pace. “I thought I heard voices — I will remind you that before he is the ‘Sith Slayer Returned’ or ‘The True Chosen One’ or any such nonsense he is first and foremost my patient.”

She gave a sharp look to both Council Members. Plo-Koon nodded contritely while Master Windu continued to not say or do anything.

“The — no, no Anakin’s the chosen one —" Obi-Wan sputtered. "Anakin’s the reason — people aren’t actually calling me that, right?” he asked, drugs doing an admirable job at suppressing the panic he was fairly sure he was going to feel later. The device in Master Che's hand beeped faintly in answer.

“That and more, young Kenobi,” another familiar voice suddenly added, below his field of vision. “To collect your honors, expect to survive, you did not, mmn?”

“Master Yoda! No, I—I really didn’t expect... any honors... at most I was hoping that people would understand...” Obi-Wan protested weakly, shooting Windu a beseeching look which yet again failed to garner a response.

Che rolled her eyes, flipping a lek behind her somewhat sarcastically as she attached a glowing device to his chest. "Of course you didn't."

He barely refrained from wincing as several needles bit into him.

“Perhaps we would have had a better chance of understanding had you left us any of your evidence,” Master Koon chided gently.

“Put together the pieces we did, in our time,” Yoda added, hopping up on the nightstand to affectionately poke his shoulder.

Obi-Wan leaned back, feeling increasingly light-headed.

“Your vitals look good, all things considered,” Master Che said, sounding smug. “You should be back to getting into trouble in a year or so.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head in her direction, aghast. “A year?!”

“Busy, you will be, if work you wish. A seat, open there is for you. Comfortable chair, good company, important duties.”

Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

The healer scowled. “You were bleeding heavily into more or less all your major organs, including your brain. Really, it would be faster for me to list organs that weren't damaged. The fact that you recovered at all is only because Master Gallia conducted ill-advised on-scene amateur healing—"

"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

"—ill-advised, but successfully non-self-detrimental amateur healing, and I’m a miracle worker, and, credit where credit is due, you’re a stubborn bastard; not to mention your padawan has far too much energy to throw around — you really should consider enrolling him some healer’s courses—”

“Is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked, more urgently.

“He’s fine,” Master Plo reassured him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “Everyone is fine except for you. He just tired himself out a few times, but Knight Vos has been keeping a close eye on him, and Anakin understands that the best thing at this point is to let you heal under your own power."

“Can I see him?” he asked. His voice was growing hoarse despite the dutifully refilled cup.

Vokara’s face softened. “Of course. He’ll be stopping by after class, in another hour or so. He’s been very punctual.”

“Master Windu? Alright are you? Silent, you have been.” Mace flinched upon being prodded with a stick. He opened his eyes, pinning Knight Kenobi with a steely gaze. Obi-Wan shrunk back, but Windu just sighed.

“You...” he trailed off. He stood up slowly, as if the movement pained him.

"I —" he said authoritatively, quieting the room. "—am taking a sabbatical. Call me when—” Windu gestured vaguely. “—you all sort out this mess.”

He walked out.

A long moment passed. “What did you tell him?” Master Plo finally asked in a hushed whisper.

"Ah..." Obi-Wan paused, limbs heavy with fatigue. "Well — you see— " He closed his eyes, feeling slightly cowardly as he did so.

//

When he opened them again, the light hadn't shifted nearly as much as other inbetweens, and his bandages hadn't been changed. Master Plo was still there, speaking quietly with Yoda.

Shit.

"Not too long that time," Vokara said, pleased. "I've lowered the dose on some of your medications, it should make it easier to stay awake."

"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.

"Young Kenobi." Plo-Koon moved closer. "I dislike pressuring you in your current state, but... Master Windu appears to have left the temple. We were wondering..."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again, considering. His mind was, at last, starting to catch up with mouth. “He asked me... some questions. About how I came to suspect Palpatine," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It would appear I may have forgotten some details. About the evidence...Master Windu was — distressed regarding what I did and did not recall."

Vokara nodded. "Memory loss is completely understandable with the type of injuries you recieved."

"Alright, it is, if remember everything, you cannot," Yoda added kindly. "Our own investigations, ongoing are."

"So if I, ah, can't quite remember everything that led up to our fight," Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty, but force, that blank look in Master Windu's eyes. "I mean I definitely remember the force willing me to decisively seek his end — really it was unusually loud about it," he added hastily. "If that helps."

Yoda nodded slowly. "This reason, understand we do. But, present to the public, perhaps not a good idea would be."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I think — I'm not certain but I believe Quinlan Vos may have helped me collect some evidence..."

"Said as much, he did. Wait to confer with you, he wanted."

Obi-Wan sagged backwards with relief. "Yes. Yes! We had security concerns... Palpatine was so highly placed..." he trailed off.

"Considering Sifo-Dyas's and Count Dooku's entanglement in all this I can hardly blame you for hesitating to reach out to the council," Plo-Koon said, exhaustion audible even through his vocoder.

Obi-Wan choked on his spit; the following coughing fit was soon rewarded with a fresh bacta drink from Vokara.

Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??

"Perhaps after I speak with him I'll be able to better assist with the current investigations," he offered hoarsely after recovering.

"Of course," Plo-Koon said gently. "Again, we apologize for interrogating you so early into your recovery but you really can't imagine the public and political scrutiny we've all been under —" He hesitated. "Master Windu was joking about taking a sabbatical right now, was he not?" he asked, sounding strained. "I know he's been under a lot of pressure, but surely you having memory issues couldn't—"

He was thankfully interrupted by the sound of small feet moving rapidly and a gangly body launching itself at highspeeds through the doorway.

Vokara just managed to snag the back of Anakin's robes before he crashed into Obi-Wan's medbed.

"Padawan Skywalker," she said, voice tight. "I believe I have mentioned the numerous injuries your master is recovering from and the need for —"

"Care in my movements," he said sheepishly. "Apologies, master, thank you."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, something in his chest relaxing at the sight of his dangling student.

"Obi-Wan." His padawan's eyes immediately started filling with tears.

Obi-Wan reached out instinctively. "Oh, Anakin."

"Give you a moment, we will," Yoda said, hobbling out, as Vokara sighed, then gently placed his pupil on the floor.

"Of course," Plo-Koon agreed. "Take all the time you need." He hurried to catch up with Yoda. Obi-Wan heard him begin to say, "Mace can't actually be leaving us to deal with this clusterfu—'' Then the door closed, and Anakin was weeping at his bedside.

"Shh," Obi-Wan said, tugging his padawan up, ignoring the protestations of his abdomen. "There, there, it will be alright."

Anakin crawled up, movements ginger and uncertain around Obi-Wan's numerous injuries. Together, they somehow managed to shift Obi-Wan enough for Anakin to fit beside him. His padawan shook with suppressed sobs, and parts of him were almost certainly hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed.

Obi-Wan ran one hand through Anakin's hair, the other hand gently resting where he could reach without twisting too much, probably an elbow, though the boy was pointy enough these days that he couldn't be sure. If Obi-Wan was also shaking, well. There was reason enough.

"Sheev," Anakin finally said, oozing misery and an overwhelming tangle of other unpleasant emotions into the force.

"...I know he was your friend—" Obi-Wan said, after what was hopefully not too long a pause. This was another conversation that probably wouldn't be helped by painkillers.

"But he wasn't, really." Anakin curled up, even more miserable. "I know. I should let go."

The side of Obi-Wan's head throbbed. On second thought, painkillers were the way to go here. "That's not what I meant," he said. "He was a friend to you. He's gone now. Because of me, your master. And... I'm sure you've found out a lot while I've been asleep. I can't imagine a single padawan learner who wouldn't be struggling with their emotions right now. I'm struggling."

"I'm angry," Anakin said into his side. "Master, I'm so full of anger."

"You think I wasn't?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.

Anakin hiccuped a sob. "I'm angry at everyone."

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "You'll work through it in time. I'll be here to help, whenever you want. Even when I'm the one you're angry with."

Anakin sobbed another minute, force presence roiling, before finally pulling himself in with a deep breath, and wiping his nose on the sheets. "You looked so cool when you were angry," he mumbled into Obi-Wan's side.

"Oh force," Obi-Wan groaned. "Of course there was holofootage. Of course you watched."

"Are you... still angry?" Anakin asked.

Fuck.

Obi-Wan tried to think of the right answer for a padawan learner. His head throbbed again.

"Honestly? Right now I'm mostly just tired. I feel like I was run over by a pack of bantha. It's never a good idea to try and deal with large emotional gnarls while you're this exhausted, remember that my young padawan."

"You've been asleep for years," Anakin whined. "How are you still tired?"

"Years?" he asked, amused.

"At least three," Anakin huffed, curling up against him.

Obi-Wan stroked his hair in peaceful silence for a moment.

"...Did you really smash in his skull with a metal chair to protect me?"

"I would do a lot of things to protect you," he confessed. "I'm sorry Anakin — I should have talked with you when I grew concerned with his behavior. I felt at the time I had to act swiftly, but I worry I only caused you more pain."

"It was a really cool fight."

"...Thank you, padawan."

"Can you teach me how to choke people with my ankles like that?" he sniffled.

Obi-Wan groaned internally. "Of course, as a Jedi, violence—" 

"Violence is our last resort," Anakin interrupted. "Right, yeah —but if it is needed—"

"—Such as when someone," Obi-Wan said over him. "After careful consideration, is found to be both politically insulated and positioned to commit great further harm—"

"Actually, I think you, the person who killed my trusted friend, lecturing me on why he was ultra especially irredeemably evil is traumatizing, even more traumatizing than all those holo compilations of you —"

"Oh force above, of course there's — oh. Oh no — please don't tell me—"

"The latest Jizz music," Anakin said, far too gleeful.

Obi-Wan groaned. Unfortunately, the extra movement in his chest triggered an admittedly ghastly sounding coughing fit and Anakin immediately lost the small edge of grace he had managed to cultivate during their back and forth.

"Master?" he asked urgently. "Master — hold on — I'll go get—"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan rasped. "Any more of that —"

Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.

Such a good boy, he thought affectionately, watching him pour and carry over a glass with the same care others might have when handling molten gold.

Obi-Wan drank with a reciprocal amount of delicacy, knowing his padawan was watching falcon-eyed for any wasted drops.

"Perhaps we should finish this conversation a little later," Obi-Wan said, once his airways calmed down.

Coughing should not be this exhausting.

"Of course," Anakin said, subdued, but he crawled back into bed readily enough when Obi-Wan patted it.

“Really, though —” Obi-Wan started to say, feeling it was duty to try and wrap up the lesson, but he was fortunately cut off before he was forced to figure out exactly what that lesson was.

“It’s alright,” Anakin chimed comfortingly. “We have time to talk about it, master. Can’t you tell?”

“Hm?” Obi-Wan replied, fighting the droop of his eyelids. 

“The force clears,” Anakin said, voice sonorous. “The dark retreats.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s eyes started falling closed. “That’s nice.”

“So we have time. To figure out the rest.”

 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.

His padawan curled against him, force presence like ocean waves rocking him to sleep.

“The force says it’s going to be alright,” Anakin whispered, wonderingly. “It’s going to be alright.”

Obi-Wan smiled, then once again slipped back to sleep.

[yourfriendlyfanperson]

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 3: A Boring Life

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 3.4k

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter three! Thanks so much for the love on the previous chapters! I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

Does anyone know how I can make the previous chapter numbers appear and be linked to this? I've been trying to figure it out lol

~Narrator's POV~

Y/n walks inside the middle school going to her dad's room, the place is very quiet, which is the opposite of what the school is usually like, there is a very uncomfortable atmosphere around but it's to be expected, after all, one of the students was announced dead, it's not something that ever happens or people think will happen.

"Hi dad," She says standing at the door.

"Hey honey, thanks for coming to help the kids by talking about losing someone," He tells her walking out of the room.

"No worries, how are the boys doing?" She asks him, walking next to him.

"I'm not sure, I haven't seen them today, they must be having a rough time though, I can't even imagine"

Y/n doesn't even want to imagine how they must be feeling, they're only twelve years old and have already lost their best friend to some terrible accident, no kid should go through what they're going through, but the circumstances can't be changed, unfortunately, and all they can do is be there for the boys so things are easier for them, comfort them in any way possible, and make sure that Will's memory lives on.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honour Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period"

The principal announced from the speakers, when it all goes quiet again they can hear voices coming from somewhere near and just as they turn to the right they see the three boys with a girl standing in the corridors.

"Boys?" Scott says as they turn to look at him.

"Hey," Lucas says, trying not to seem suspicious.

"The assembly is about to start" Y/n adds.

"We know," Mike tells her, "We're just, you know"

"Upset," Lucas explains with a smile before looking down sad.

"Yeah, yeah, definitely upset" Dustin repeats.

"We need some alone time," Mike says.

"To cry" Dustin adds.

Y/n looks at them confused, noticing they are acting stranger than usual.

"Yeah, listen, I get it, I do" Mr Clarke begins telling them, "I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then" he gets his keys out from his pocket and tosses them to Mike, "The Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day, what do you say?" he asks them.

The boys look at him with a smile nodding, happy with the idea.

"I haven't seen you around here before, is she new? What's your name?" Y/n asks the blonde girl standing next to Mike.

"Elev-" The girl begins to say before she's interrupted by Mike, Lucas and Dustin.

"Eleanor, she's my-"

"Cousin!"

"Second cousin"

"She's here for Will's funeral" Mike adds.

Y/n stands there trying to figure out whether the three boys expected her to really believe the obvious lie they just told her, and by the look of it they were sure she was going to believe it.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor, I wish you were here under better circumstances," Her dad tells the girl.

"Thank you" She softly says.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?" Y/n asks her.

The eyes of the three boys widen as they turn to look at Elenor who shakes her head.

"Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin shouts. "I have a lot of Swedish family" Mike adds. "She hates it there" Dustin mentions. "Cold" Lucas says. "Subzero"

Everything feels very awkward after that, Y/n and Scott look at each other, confusion visible on their face, but they decide to just move past the conversation.

"Shall we?" Her dad says looking at the kids.

"Yep," Lucas says as they all walk towards the sports hall.

Dustin opens the door to the room interrupting the principal and drawing everyone's attention to the five of them.

"Great" Y/n mumbles.

Dustin turns around trying to leave but is pushed back inside by Lucas.

Lucas, Mike, Dustin and Eleanor take a seat on the benches while Y/n and Scott sit on the chairs behind the principal.

"We have Y/n Clarke from Hawkins High to talk to you guys a bit about how it feels to lose someone, Y/n," The principal says turning to look back at her.

She stands up taking a deep breath, public speaking it's not fun, especially having to talk to a bunch of clearly bored and annoying pre-teenagers. Y/n smiles at the principal walking next to him and moving to look at the kids, most of them looked like they couldn't wait for this to be over, some were mildly interested or at least respected the situation, a very small group was actually upset, and then in the crowd, she saw two boys laughing, she noticed that Mike and Lucas saw them too, and man does she hate bullies.

"Can you two at the back be quiet?" She shouts glaring at the two boys, they look back at her embarrassed and annoyed but stop talking, "Thank you"

Now I could share with you the sad story that Y/n is telling the kids, but in reality, the anecdote isn't actually that sad, she doesn't even remember her mother at all, she died when Y/n was only two-years-old in a car accident, but stretching the truth for the kids to stop being little assholes wouldn't hurt at the end of the day. So she put on her best sad face and took ten minutes of the kid's day to share the story.

"So let's keep Will's memory alive, and show some respect," She says finishing her speech. The bell goes off and the kids start leaving the room, Y/n walks over to her dad, "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay honey" In comparison to her Scott obviously remembers her mother a lot, and he gets very sentimental whenever someone talks about her, it's a sensitive topic.

"Do you want me to go talk to the kids?" She asks him.

"No don't worry, I'll talk to them you should go back to class," He tells her with a smile, she smiles back at him and waves goodbye as she walks out of the gym.

Y/n walks back to the High School and gets on with her usual day. Nothing interesting really happens after, she just attends her lessons, has lunch with Robin, and then meets once again with her dad so they can go home. Her life really is pretty boring when she thinks about it, always the same cycle over and over, it would be nice to do something new for a change.

~~~~~~~~

The next day school was cancelled since it was Will's funeral.

Y/n woke up at 8:00 am to get ready, the funeral was scheduled to start at 11:00 am and would probably last about two hours, after that most people would attend the wake which would last about an hour or so, which meant Y/n would have enough time to go back home, get changed and then walk to her shift which starts at three thirty.

She changed into the outfit she had planned for the funeral, lucky for her she already had black clothes which meant she didn't need to buy new ones for this day, it wouldn't have been fun to buy clothes for a funeral.

All she could think about while getting ready was the fact she was attending Will's funeral, it really was happening, he was actually dead, it wasn't just a bad nightmare she had anymore, it was a reality. No one ever wants to attend the funeral of someone younger than them, they're supposed to live longer than you after all, so when that doesn't happen it's just so  heartbreaking.

"Are you ready to go honey?" Scott asks her as he knocks on her door.

"Yeah, let's go," she says walking out of the room and closing the door behind her.

The drive to the funeral was completely quiet, neither Y/n nor her dad had the strength or energy to try and initiate a conversation, there wasn't much to talk about anyway, so really it was for the best.

When they arrived he parked his car at the car park next to the church, they both got out and walked towards Joyce and Jonathan who were standing in front of the soon-to-be grave. Y/n went up to Jonathan and gave him a big hug, she hadn't seen him since Will went missing, and she wanted to ask him how he was feeling but she guessed that was the last thing he needed to be asked today, so instead she just gave him a soft smile as she moved away from the hug and turned to look at Joyce.

She doesn't say anything, she looks so confused to be there like it isn't right.

Y/n wanted to say so much to Joyce, she wanted to tell her how sorry she was for what had happened, how she couldn't believe it was Will out of all the people it could've been, how he was such a fantastic kid he didn't deserve this, but she couldn't tell her that, not at this time anyway, "We'll be here if you need anything" was all she said, with a soft smile.

She turns to look at the kids, she expected them to be already crying their eyes out or something along those lines, but instead, they seemed normal, they didn't look upset or sad, and they didn't even look like they were hiding their feelings, which Y/n would've definitely found weird if it wasn't for the fact that the moment she saw the boys she just wanted to breakdown into tears and hug them.

"How are you guys doing?" She asked them walking over to the boys.

"We're okay," Dustin tells her looking over at Lucas and Mike.

"You guys know it's okay to cry, right?" She tells them.

"Yeah, we know," Dustin says looking at Lucas and Mike, the three of them nodding.

"Good, I'm here if you need to talk" She adds and they smile at her.

More and more people start arriving, but instead of people talking more everything goes completely quiet, and eventually, the funeral begins.

All Y/n is able to do is look down during the entire speech, she barely has the strength to look at Will's casket, it's so small, and caskets shouldn't be that small. In the end, everyone throws some flowers inside the hole before they close it.

Everyone then heads to the wake, there are tables and food organised in the place, and most people are talking, probably about something not even remotely related to Will, Lonnie is speaking to Mr and Mrs Wheeler, meanwhile, Joyce is sitting by herself, on the other side of the room Y/n and Scott are getting some food from the lunch table, when Mike, Lucas and Dustin walk up to them.

"Mr Clarke," Mike says, Scott and Y/n turn around to look at the boys.

"Oh, hey there, how are you boys holding up?" He asks them.

"We're...in...mourning" Lucas answers.

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers" Dustin mumbles, Mike and Lucas turn to look at him as if he just said something irrelevant, which he did but kids usually do that.

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" "We have some questions" "A lot of questions," Mike and Lucas say.

"What do you want to know?"

Mr Clarke, Y/n and the three boys take a seat on one of the tables and begin to ask the questions, they ask about alternate dimensions but not an alternate dimension where Will's death never happened but more about an evil alternate dimension, like the Vale of Shadows, and then they ask how one would travel there, theoretically of course. Scott explains things to the boys in the simplest way possible which is by comparing things to a flea and an acrobat, explaining how there are places an acrobat, which in this case is them, can only explore so much, meanwhile, a flea will be able to reach places they can't. The boys ask if there's a way the acrobat could reach the upside down, and he explains that it only would be possible by creating an insane amount of energy one bigger than humans can currently make which could open up a gate to reach the upside down.

"Science is neat, but not very forgiving" Scott adds as he finishes explaining things to the boys.

"You guys always have the weirdest questions you know," Y/n says chuckling as she looks at the three boys, she had this feeling that they were hiding something, that there was something going on with them, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

"We're just... very curious," Dustin tells her looking at the other two who nod at this comment.

"Well make sure that curiosity doesn't kill you," She says with a smile standing up, "I should probably start saying goodbye to everyone dad, I need to leave soon so I can get ready for work"

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" He asks her.

"It's okay, I know you want to stay here longer talking with the boys and everyone else, and I have my skates anyway so it won't take me long to get home" She explains to him.

He sighs smiling at her knowing that he does, in fact, want to stay longer and that either way he won't be able to change her mind, "Be careful" he says.

"I will, love you dad, bye kids, you can call me at home if you need anything okay?"

"Okay"

~~~~~~~

After working for five hours Y/n was finally able to say goodbye to her last customer, she turned on the radio and listened to 'Old Time Rock & Roll' while she cleaned the cafe, dancing along to the song and singing the lyrics as she organised everything and made sure it was nice and clean. When she finally finished she turned off the light and walked out of the cafe closing it and locking it, she put on her skates and started skating over to her house.

She was glad she didn't take today off work because it actually helped her get her mind off everything that had happened lately, the cafe has always been a comfort place of hers so it made her feel better.

Normally she didn't mind going home after work alone, Hawkins had always been a very safe place, and she always carried some bleach in a bottle in her bag just in case, but after Barb's disappearance, the thought of walking alone at night was not so fun. So she decided to skate as fast as she could so she could get home soon, unfortunately, Y/n had her sleeves rolled up and forgot the fact it was a cold night in November and the ground would be frozen, so when she tripped on an uneven step she didn't just stop herself like she usually did but instead fell forwards on the rocky ground scraping her arms.

"Fuck" she says pushing herself up and carefully standing again, she looks down at her arms to see that they're bleeding, great, "Why is blood so dramatic?" she asks herself rolling her sleeves down, not even trying to stop the blood knowing it will be a waste of time anyway.

She continues skating to her home, and slowly this feeling that she's being followed starts growing in her stomach, she turns around to look behind her but sees nothing, she shakes her head, telling herself that she's tired and anxious so it's just her mind making her paranoid, she continues skating but the feeling doesn't go, if anything it just gets worst, she keeps looking around hoping it will make her feel better but instead she sees a weird shadow inside the woods, a tall, dark figure with a strange head; she picks up her pace trying to go as fast as she can while being careful so that she won't fall again, she looks back at the woods to see the figure closer than it was before, she doesn't care if she falls again she starts skating as fast as she possibly can, her eyes not moving away from the tall shadow that was getting closer, scared that she might end up like Barbara, missing and possibly dead.

Meanwhile, Steve Harrington was driving his car down the road she was about to walk across, he had just dropped Tommy and Carol at their house after going to check on Nancy, and it hadn't gone well, he saw her with Jonathan and was convinced that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

Y/n was freaking out so much she didn't realise when the car stopped right in front of her until she is stopped by the car crashing against the side door, she looks inside the car to see none other than Steve he looks at her confused noticing she had in fact just hit her head against his car, he rolled down his window as she looks back seeing the tall, shadow creature leaving the woods and making its way towards her.

"Hey Einstein, are you okay?" Steve asks checking on her.

Y/n doesn't even take a second to think, her survival instincts and panic took over her brain, and all she does is open the passenger's door getting inside the car.

"Go!" she shouts at him, his eyebrows knit together as he looks at her puzzled.

"What?"

"Steve just go! Go! Go!" she shouts at him.

Steve lets go of the brake pedal and push's down at the accelerator as he turns to the left and drives away as fast as possible, Y/n turns back as she watches the dark creature fade away into the dark disappearing from her view. Neither of them says anything during the drive, Y/n didn't even know where Steve was taking her until he parks in front of a house.

"What the hell just happened?" he asks turning to look at her confused and worried.

"Someone or something was following me, I was trying to get away from it and then I bumped into you and I didn't know what else to do, I got scared I was going to end up going missing or kidnapped or something like that, I'm sorry I didn't mean to get into your car like that" she explains apologising once she takes in the incredibly bizarre situation.

"It's okay, I mean we wouldn't want you to go missing" she nods at him, "Is your arm okay?" he asks, looking down at her arm worried, Y/n turns to look at him confused.

"What?"

"Your jacket has blood around your arm" he points out.

"Oh, it's nothing I just scraped my arms when I fell," she tells him rolling her sleeves up.

"That doesn't look like nothing" he adds.

"It's fine I'll just disinfect it when I get home"

"You could just disinfect it here, we have saline solution," he says turning off the car and looking at her.

"Won't your parents mind?" she asks him, not wanting to bother anyone.

"They're probably already asleep, they won't even notice I just got home, we can quickly disinfect your arms and then I can drive you home" he suggests to her.

"Oh no it's okay I don't want to keep you up for longer"

"It's fine really, I was probably going to stay awake for a while anyway," he says smiling at her as he opens the door and gets out of the car, walking towards the passenger's door.

"Thanks," Y/n says getting out of the car and closing the door, "Who knows what would've happened if I hadn't bumped into you"

"Well, I do owe you big time, this is one of the thirty I guess" he chuckles locking his car and walking to the front door.

"You still got a long way to go," she smiles at him.

"Yeah well let's hope the next one is me passing my chemistry test without your help," he tells her with a smile opening the door.

Y/n laughs at him as she walks inside, "Then you've got a lot of studying to do"

Thank you for reading! Any likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

[botmilf]

wanna quickly add to this because I've gotten a few snarky messages for this one lol. But not just because of that. I genuinely find this sort of interesting.

"Well he mirrors Sonic and Sonic in the movie is very clearly a child so--" they mirror each other in the game universe too, and they don't have ages there. When Sonic and Shadow were first designed they weren't done so adhering to some age group. Because all the characters in the Sonic Canon have the pretty much the same proportions lol. There is absolutely nothing about Sonic or Shadow physically that confirms them to be children/teenagers if you're going off of human standards and this is also true for the SCU because like, Knuckles looks almost exactly like his dad at whatever age he is now. And sure Sonic might be a kid in the SCU but we're not talking about him, we're talking about Shadow.

"Gerald referred to him and Maria as 'kids' and Walters said 'those are children!'" Yes, and all that was before Shadow was put in stasis for 50 years. Now, again, I interpreted this as more of a grouped-in sense because he goes along with whatever Maria gets up to. He's an alien. He doesn't know how old he is, or even what he is. It's safe to say that the people around him don't definitively know either.

ALSO based on what he says MULTIPLE times throughout the movie about having to live with the anger for 50 years, that suggests Shadow was at least somewhat conscious. He didn't quite know how much time had passed, but arrested development doesn't make you a minor lol and it wouldn't make him one either. Vi from Arcane is a prime example of this. She was thrown into a dark cell on a prison island for like 10 years starting when she was 14. She still does/thinks in ways, at times, that a teenager would rather than an adult, but that doesn't make her a minor. That just means she's deeply, deeply traumatized--as Shadow is.

Here's the thing too: We don't know what the aging process is like for Mobians in this universe. We don't know how similar or dissimilar it is from humans. Shadow doesn't make this any clearer because we also don't know if this SCU version of him is immortal like in the games. We also don't know if he was engineered as-is like in the games either. We just do not know and I think that in the case of Shadow, it's okay for there to be some nuance.

Lastly, I kiiiinda feel like if the movie had any interest on selling the idea of Shadow being a child in a very literal sense, Keanu Reeves wouldn't have been casted and they would've gotten someone who can at least be convincing as a kid lol. I can suspend my disbelief for some things but Keanu's voice coming out of a child? Nah bro come on lmao.

Look, The movie gives us no definitive answers. At the end of the day that's pretty much what I'm saying in a very long sense. Sorry for the long ass post I'm just being a nerd lol.

SCU Shadow the Hedgehog age discourse rant:

The Shadow the Hedgehog age discourse is kind of crazy because Sega retconned everyone’s age YEARS ago and Shadow never even technically had one because in the games he was created in a lab and in the movie he’s an alien that fell from the sky as-is. It’s not that he doesn’t age, it’s that he doesn’t HAVE an age.

Shadow in the SCU universe is referred to collectively alongside Maria as a kid because, like, bro he’s an alien that knows literally nothing about the world and he’s like 4 ft tall fluff ball. You WOULD treat him like a child, not because he IS physically a child, but because he needs the guidance and supervision of one in a world that he doesn’t understand. Also he’s with Maria, an actual kid, all the time just by way of her living at the laboratory, so it makes sense to refer to them both collectively as ‘kids’ because he goes along with whatever mischief she gets into. It makes sense that the soldiers around the facility would view him as a child too. Not because Shadow physically IS a minor, but because you’d have to treat him like one.

Also he’s voiced by fucking Keanu Reeves homie.

Idk man I’m just tired of seeing people’s comments section get lit up by a bunch of dickheads every time they post a thirst tiktok or make suggestive art/fanfic. People straight up saying shit like “ummm he’s 15” like no he literally, canonically is not lol wtf.

He has no actual age and he never will because he’s FUCKING IMMORTAL LOL

[figs-oliomedley]

The biggest thing keeping me rooting for Skailor in canon is the way she makes Kai crumple like a leaf

he literally burns himself with his own fire when talking to her oh my god

[sysig]

VUXPet (Patreon)

[sskk-manifesto]

Atsushi's back in the game!!! ۶( ˆ o ˆ )

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Head in my hands wondering if I'll have to cut the entire Chume Labs section out because it's more suited to being a different chapter, but also knowing the next chapter can't have it either so I might have to cut it from this fic entirely aaaAAAAAAAAAA

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally settling once and for all... with the evidence laid out plainly.. which of these brother boys is more stinkys ,,,

[gideonisms]

I can't read the aj book reviews on goodreads though because I feel like people collectively did not get that the gender thing was A) in service to her other themes not the entire point of the book B) not a girlboss everyone's a woman now thing either

[pawsitivevibe]

I dunno why everyone says they hate grooming and hand stripping dogs. I find it so soothing. I would probably go for hours if Arthur didn't let me know he was done with it.

[afniel]

AH I REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY EARLIER but it's kind of stupid, lmao.

So my partner is getting into brewing beer and I got them a Tilt, which is a Bluetooth hydrometer. It measures specific gravity and temperature, which are things you want to know so that you don't kill your yeast or whatever. Except the sensor's Bluetooth range is super short, and it basically runs via a phone app, and the temperature we're logging currently is the crawlspace, accessible via the staircase closet. So they were like, wait, what do we do about this, because I can't leave my phone in the closet, that's my alarm clock.

In a kind of ridiculous turn of life imitating art, I was like, hold up, I got just the thing right at my desk. Bam. Old phone. We just needed to scrounge up a charger because the battery is so dead that after charging just enough to power on it claimed it was at 53% (to be fair to it, there is a very real chance that it's correct, and it just holds no charge at this point so the capacity is just THAT low) and now it lives in the closet logging sensor data.

And I was like, you know...didn't I just solve a major story detail with a much larger version of this...yeah, no, this is all vaguely familiar somehow, power supply issues and all. Kind of cool that the concept works though. Kind of weird that it came up at all?

We are not gonna talk about the fact that I still have at least two more ancient-ass phones in a drawer where that came from because look, man, sometimes you just need a camera/mic/mini computer with Bluetooth and wifi that fits in a pocket, and people just get rid of these things, but not me. I actually could build a shitty security system out of them if I was reaaaally inclined. I mean. I'm not. But it's technically possible.

For real though, If I pick up any stupid maker projects I still high-key am thinking about slapping Bluetooth into a necomimi headset and running that through an Arduino and learning to code just enough to let me skip songs/change the volume on Spotify with my brain, because it's entirely doable, and I mean yeah I could do that on my phone remotely too, but that's not funny, now, is it. I'm just not sure it's $350+ of parts funny. Kind of a big investment just to prove the point that haha look I am the extremely ADHD type of lazy where I would rather solve a problem via the most convoluted and complicated Rube-Goldberg type ass machine way possible rather than just perform a single simple action.

YEAH I'VE BEEN THIS SCATTERED ALL DAY AND I REALLY SHOULD GO TO BED SHOULDN'T I. I started playing Satisfactory. Mistakes were made. I'm going to dream about conveyor belts again and I did it to myself...

[greyedian]

oh my god I was thinking about a jayvik fallout new vegas AU and was like "hm maybe Viktor uploads himself into one of those robots until he can get a different body by like repurposing power armor or something idk" and then I remembered that this guy's name actually is Victor

[paramoira]

@godofcourage gets a random starter

it's one of those bitterly chilly nights where the moon is high in the sky and a soon approaching rainfall clings in the air. nightlife seems prevalent, at least if the street she's walked down was anything to judge from. one of the bars' had one of those folding doors which allowed them to form an open patio, live music drifting out and people of various levels of intoxication braving the chill. another, the one on the corner, had a line of the typical college looking sort waiting to get in with a few scattered older adults. she ignores them, dodging a larger group of friends in the line and stepping into the street to get around them. maybe ariadne shouldn't have parked her car so far away yet she hadn't exactly wanted it seen or anyone taking down her license plate when she held no business getting involved in what she was doing in the first place. ariadne held enough issues with certain detectives even if most had seemed to form a kind of acceptance that her dedication to her work proved family members held no baring on her commitment to solving the deaths which crossed her table at the morgue.

except, all of those detectives had seemed ready to accept the current case (or lack thereof) as presently in review as 'accidents'.

it was true the evidence hadn't been as strong as other cases, however, ariadne steadfastly disagreed with the pathologist in a jurisdiction over, the two cases she believed were linked having transpired in different areas yet not over state lines. there hadn't been any outright preternatural elements though a few things had made her question; even so, finding evidence the victims had once been to a blood den did not equate to proof anything paranormal had caused their deaths. as such there had not been enough to require the bprd's involvement and certainly nothing to have warranted fbi involvement even had she attempted a favor.

perhaps this was all one enormous hunch of a bad feeling ariadne shouldn't be following. certainly, one would think that as intelligent a woman as doctor kalkan clamed to be, she would have learned her lesson by now in respect to getting too involved with her cases. if nothing else what had happened in london should have taught her that. and yet, here she was, walking down a dimly lit street and jogging up the six steps of the apartment building once she finds the address she'd been looking for. how she'd got that, perhaps, wasn't completely in-line with the fact she was supposed to be on the side of law enforcement (sometimes it helped that one's familial ties were tied up in much less legally acceptable things and held no issues in utilizing those means if she asked). it was a very blurred line at times, though ariadne was willing to justify it as a fairly minor deviation and for a greater good. when someone comes out in hurry, she grabs the door before it closes, looking back a moment as the person moves down the street and rain begins prompting her to move inside, distracted.

somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd gotten a strange sense off the hooded man, something dark and the scent of smoke... however, ariadne chalked it up to her own minor paranoia about her covert actions and her anxieties about things in the past. closing the door, ariadne wonders if this was how private detectives operated, waiting for doors to be opened or did they just pick locks? she supposes they weren't held to the same rules as the police and as long as they weren't caught. on that same thought train, she wouldn't have put it passed the one girl's only living relative, a brother, to have hired one to look into things after the police findings. regardless, she has to speak with the girl that lives here and so ariadne makes her way up the steps. there's a weight to the moment, a sudden increasing worry. she has theories, even if ariadne's not sold on them yet but she'd seen the same item on this girl's person as had been found at two previous scenes, a match box from a location she knew was a blood den. again, it didn't mean the girls were even connected to the place, for all she knew it could be the killer-- if there really was one. finally, she reaches the top where the girl's apartment was, seeking to knock only to find the door slightly ajar.

there, a few steps inside, she finds a female down-- the girl, a friend of one of the victims who she'd spoken to briefly when on scene with one of the detectives, laying on the floor among a smashed glass table. she moves to take a pulse, render aid if possible, however the girl was deceased, having begun to bleed out and another set of matches on the floor. was it a coincidence? or was someone trying to draw attention? the easy answer would be to think it was a vampire killer or more likely a ripper if one went down that route yet there was too much blood left at the scenes and no bite wounds. was it a human who knew about vampires? and it always looked like an accident-- a fall or a something of the sort. ariadne wondered if this girl also had a strange puncture mark as that had been present at the other scenes too except there wasn't an easy method to check and the glass made things precarious as it was. she needed to call this in though how she was going to explain her presence or that she'd taken it upon herself to want to ask the girl questions she held no idea how to explain. she's pulling out her phone when she senses someone else at the door.

"i'm with the m.e.'s office.. i just found her like this. i'm about to call it i--" ariadne pauses in confusion when she looks over as she stands upright. "o--" no, no. it wasn't, she's not entirely sure how she knows, perhaps it's the difference in his aura if that was what that strange sense she was only starting to become aware she had was and perhaps it's a trick of the low-light, but he looks so similar to... well, she supposed everyone had a doppelganger of sorts. "oh shit--" she realizes it too late. "--that guy with the hood downstairs! i think he's the one that did this." she's not really talking to the strange man though she should be much more concerned about his presence than she is. granted, this man wasn't dressed like the other guy that'd smelled like smoke, nor did he have the same... he didn't seem the same and she was surrounded by glass pieces if she had to defend herself. "who are you?"

*(see the novel i wrote in tags)

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

literally any romance trope is made better with monsters but unrequited romance specifically... gets me

[sysig]

What your fave says about you: Sona/Undertale edition (Patreon)

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.