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#I’m too short to be actual Vader so I did the one with no legs ✨✨
sporkiansw · 5 months
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Would y’all be interested in seeing more cosplay content? Let me know!!! :D
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violetjedisylveon · 2 years
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Incorrect Kaesoka quotes cause they're funny
Kaeden, at Ahsoka's Funeral: I need a moment with her. Other rebels: of course.*they leave* Kaeden, leaning over Ahsoka's coffin: okay, listen here you little shit, I know you're not dead Ahsoka: yeah, no shit.
. . .
*Ahsoka falls over* Kaeden: Ahsoka! Are you alright? Ahsoka: Is that you, God? Kaeden: What? Ahsoka: It's just, you sound a lot more like Kaeden than I expected.
. . .
Ahsoka: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Kaeden periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’ Ahsoka: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.
Ahsoka: Do you want to know your gay name? Kaeden: My... my gay name? Ahsoka: Yeah, it's your first name- Kaeden: Haha. Very funny Ahsoka- Ahsoka: *gets down on one knee* And my last name. Kaeden: Oh- oh my god.
. . .
Ahsoka: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet? Kaeden: What? Like J F K W S Q X- Ahsoka: No, like, U R A Q T. Kaeden: Awwww!
. . .
Kaeden: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Ahsoka: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Kaeden: ... Kaeden: You mean ring bearER, right? Ahsoka: ... Kaeden: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding. (Not part of quote: Ahsoka gave an Akul buddy the ring bearer duty I decided)
. . .
Kaeden: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Ahsoka: Wow. They sound stupid.Kaeden: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Ahsoka: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Kaeden: I guess you’re right. Hey Ahsoka, I love you. Ahsoka: See! Just say that! Kaeden: Holy fucking shit. Ahsoka: If that flies over their head then, sorry Kaeden, but they're too dumb for you. Kaeden: Ahsoka.
. . .
Kaeden: Hey, Ahsoka, what do you think it would be like if we had kids? Ahsoka: What would it be like? Inconvenient, mostly. Kaeden: No, I mean, what would they be like, the kids? You ever think about it? Ahsoka: Can't really say I have. Kaeden: You know, for someone as eccentric as yourself, you can be boring as fuck sometimes. Ahsoka: Sorry, Kaeden. For what it's worth, I'm picturing them now. A boy and a girl. Two perfect little freaks of nature raised by people who've clearly got no business bringin' up anybody.
. . .
Ahsoka: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at Storm troopers" and I think that's very sexy of us. Kaeden: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.
. . .
Kaeden: We’re getting married, bitches! Ahsoka: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem. (Not part of quote: i wrote a short fic that was basically this quote last year, hehe, it's funny)
. . .
Kaeden: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Ahsoka: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely* Kaeden: That one. I want that one.
. . .
*about the darth Vader Anakin connection* Ahsoka: I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Kaeden: Aren't you forgetting something? Ahsoka: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Kaeden's forehead before running out.* Kaeden: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?
. . .
Miara: I know you love them. Kaeden: I am not in love with Ahsoka! Miara, staring at Kaeden: I never said who... Kaeden: *realizes* Kaeden: Shit. Well, anyways-
. . .
Kaeden, holding a rock: Ahsoka just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock". Miara: If you don't marry her, I will.
. . .
Miara: Do you mind if I slyly mention that you’re single? Ahsoka: Do not do that. Miara: You won’t even notice! Kaeden, entering: Mira, you wanted to see me again? Miara: Ahsoka's single Ahsoka:
. . .
Miara: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room. Kaeden: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you. *Ahsoka walks in* Kaeden: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.
. . .
Kaeden: Hi. Miara: Hey, did you do what I said? Did you tell her? Kaeden: I did. Miara: And what did she say? Kaeden: “Thank you.” Miara: You’re totally welcome. What’d she say? Kaeden: she said, “Thank you.” I said “I love you” and Ahsoka said, “Thank you.”
. . .
Ahsoka: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me. Kaeden: But they said not to touch the masterpieces. Ahsoka: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall. Miara, on a walkie talkie: This is Miara, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.
. . .
Ahsoka: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box. Miara: Did Kaeden say 'I love you' and you said 'Thanks'? Ahsoka: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–
This was fun! I'm doing more tomorrow, nobody can stop me!
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Patient || Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader ~ Part 4
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A/N: Part 4! Thanks for everyone’s patience (lol) with this part - Uni has been incredibly time consuming and I’ve just been too tired to write anything - so I’m trying to write a few things in advance on my Christmas holiday! I think there should only be one or two more parts in this series, and feedback is always welcome :)
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 
Main Masterlist
Star Wars Masterlist
“What’s your reason?” Your eyes flickered up to meet Kylo’s after he spoke, trying to make sense of his question as your eyes unintentionally trailed over his face.
“My reason for what, Sir?” You eventually replied as you gave up trying to figure out what he was talking about. Why did he have to speak so cryptically? “You’re going to have to give me more than that – it could mean anything knowing you.” You smiled cheekily at him from your position at the end of his bed; this time he’d called you with a deep gash stretching up the side of his left leg. It looked incredibly painful, and you couldn’t comprehend how he was purposefully putting himself through this much pain just to see you – at least, that’s what you hoped he was doing, otherwise you were completely misreading this whole situation.
“You reason for joining the First Order.” Kylo spoke bluntly. “You’ve been fixing me up for months now, and yet I feel like we are still strangers to each other.” If you hadn’t just averted your gaze back to his leg, you might have noticed the corners of his lips twitch up into the slightest shadow of a smile – but it was gone as quickly as it came.
“Oh! Oh, right, of course.” You smiled. “Well, my father was the Chief Medical Officer when he was in the First Order, and on his breaks he’d always try and teach me as much as he could about medicine before my mother caught him teaching me things that were too gory or troubling for my ‘young eyes’.” You huffed out a laugh at the thought of your parents. “So I joined because I wanted to be a Doctor and to hopefully be the Chief Medical Officer myself one day – I love my father and I’d be proud to follow in his footsteps and be as half as successful as he was.”
“And I wouldn’t say we’re strangers – I mean I’m pretty familiar with your body by now.” Your eyes widened at the realisation of what you said, and you continued in slight panic. “Not like that! I didn’t mean it to sound like that at all, Sir, oh dear.” You sighed, deflated. “I look like such an idiot now.” You muttered under your breath, as you returned your efforts to applying some soothing balm to Kylo’s wound, and preparing the equipment you’d need to give him stitches.
“It’s alright.” Kylo peered down at his leg to try and see what you were doing. “I’m used to your tongue-tied manner of speaking by now.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
You let out a giggle at his attempt at a mild joke, and the rest of your visit was spent in friendly silence, dispersed with the occasional small talk.
 “Y/N!” You jerked upright in your seat, blinking rapidly as you came to your senses, the memory of one of your favourite interactions with Kylo fading from your mind. Yasmyn was staring at you in slight concern. “Are you alright? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a minute now.”
“Oh yes, sorry!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair distractedly. “I’m fine thanks, just a bit tired I guess.” You adjusted yourself on Yasmyn’s bed; the two of you were having your weekly girl’s night – or as girly as it could get aboard the ship.
“Something on your mind?” Yasmyn asked sympathetically as she finished braiding her long, dark hair. “Or someone?” She grinned at you, wiggling her eyebrows. “Maybe someone tall, dark and mysterious?”
“I wasn’t thinking about Kylo.” You chided firmly, trying not to let your blush be too visible. At least once every girl’s night the topic of Kylo Ren would be brought up, as Yasmyn was always eager to hear about what the you and Kylo had shared with each other, because ‘even though he’s practically the leader of our fleet, nobody knows anything about him, and the gossip on this ship is so dry, your relationship with Kylo is the only thing I have going right now’.
“I never said you were thinking about Kylo.” Yasmyn grinned triumphantly. “I only said you might be thinking about someone tall, dark and mysterious. I never said it was Kylo, Y/N. I never said-” She was cut off as you threw a pillow at her face in retaliation.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Another two months had gone by since Kylo’s incident with the ‘scavenger girl’ – although it was never too easy to tell the time in space, and you had gone from being someone relatively quiet and unknown except to those you worked with, to someone whose name was slowly being passed around the entire ship. This wasn’t your fault – you hated having more attention than was necessary – no, the only person you could blame for this sort of attention was none other than Kylo Ren.
Over these two months, he’d managed to amass a mysterious amounts of injuries – when you compared the sheer amount of times you’d been called in to the times he was off the ship or in training, you were finding it harder and harder to believe that Kylo wasn’t getting all these injuries on purpose. But try as you might, you couldn’t really complain about it, as every time that you were called to assist Kylo, the more you got to know him, and the more you opened up to him.
But the closer the two of you grew, the more the rumours started to spread around the ship; and they were very clearly not in your favour. Because the more you were sent to assist Kylo, the more your co-workers noticed, and the nosier they all got; every time you returned from a trip to Kylo’s room you were crowded with questions from those closer to you, and judgemental and resentful glances from everyone else.
By now, whether because of these rumours or not, you’d got a reputation for yourself, and had even been personally called by other high-ranking officers to personally assist them – if you were good enough for Kylo Ren, then you were good enough for them. And that was actually how you got yourself into the situation that you were currently in. You were currently attending a very important meeting regarding a mission that would put quite a lot of Stormtroopers at risk, so you had also brought various medical records and lists of all the medical equipment on-board the ship. You had also had to evaluate the percentages of how many soldiers would either die or be seriously injured, so the rest of the medical team could prepare the right amount of equipment.
When the meeting was originally arranged, it was supposed to be attended by the Chief Medical Officer, however he was needed elsewhere; he had an emergency surgery that he needed to attend, and he trusted you out of all the other medics to cover for him. Possibly because he knew Kylo…favoured you over everyone else.
“So,” General Hux spoke up, finally starting the meeting. “The attack on the rebel base will begin with at least a quarter of the soldiers on-board, as we currently only have a rough estimate of just how many rebel soldiers are hiding out in that base.” You nodded, typing out quick notes on your personal padd for later.
“We’ll most likely be sending about one third or our forces down to begin with – enough to scare the rebel forces and if needed we can send in reinforcements.” Hux moved tiny digital figures about on a screen, illustrating where each group of the forces would be positioned to attack the base. “The rest of the fleet will be on standby in case a new strategy is required and a temporary retreat is needed. I would hope that our forces aren’t pathetic enough for us to even consider retreating.” He turned abruptly, eyeing you haughtily. “Do we have sufficient medical supplies for the foreseeable casualties?”
You looked up nervously from your padd – you’d been making rough notes about this most recent plan so you could report back to your boss and he could begin to prepare everything.
“Yes, General Hux, I do believe that we have enough supplies.” You pulled yourself together, trying not to ‘um’ and ‘err’ your way through your sentence. “But of course, I will send all the necessary figures to my superior as I do not have full access to all our equipment, and in the case that there are any supplies we may be short on.” You added as an afterthought – if there was anything that needed to be ordered you didn’t want the responsibility to be solely yours. “One third of the forces was it? And the rest on standby…” You re-capped while scribbling down extra notes. “And my superior sends his most sincere apologies that he could not be here instead of me.”
“No matter.” General Hux waved away your apology indifferently. “As long as all information gets relayed I could not care less who is here in his stead.” And with that, he continued with explaining the various stages of the attack.
Then, just as you were retreating slightly back into the mass of officers crowded around the main screen, you heard someone speak under their breath; ‘Well, it won’t be long until she does have authority to all our medical supplies, considering she’s been sleeping her way to the top with Ren. And then who knows how irresponsibly she’d use our supplies.”
You stop where you stand, feeling a flush creep up your face, turning it bright red in embarrassment. You could see those nearest to you glancing in your direction with obvious distain and disapproval, as if they were imagining a future where you were in some ways their superior. You could hear whispers on every side, many of them agreeing with the nameless whisperer, and you finally opened your mouth to defend yourself, when-
“I hope you’re not insinuating that I, the descendant of Darth Vader, would be capable of behaving like a common whore on my ship.” Kylo’s cold, slightly robotic voice echoed loudly across the room, silencing everyone, including General Hux. Nobody dared to speak, and you stood frozen in a mix of fear and embarrassment. “Because that’s certainly what it sounded like, Lieutenant Kendell.” At this, a few people subtly turned their heads in the direction of the offending statement, and you turned to see a relatively weedy looking man visibly shrink away from Kylo.
“I- of course, no sir, I didn’t mean to offend you-” You watched him backtrack, stammering over his response as Kylo simply stood, watching him. “I-I simply wish to see our forces grow and thrive, and was only remarking that this medic would not be our best way of seeing this happen – I mean she may be far too inexperienced for such a role-”
“So you assume she is using me to gain status? Her family name far outranks yours in any case, Lieutenant, so such foolish thoughts are unnecessary.” Kylo interrupted, and the room seemed to grow darker. “You assumed that I would succumb to any such advances?” He took one single step towards the unfortunate Lieutenant. “You forget your place, Lieutenant. It would be wise not to do so again in the future. It would be unfortunate to lose a member of our staff because of such a foolish mistake.” With this threat hanging in the air, he turned, cape flowing dramatically behind him, to face Hux, who continued his speech.
As everyone began to settle down, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you replayed the conflict. You weren’t hurt by Kylo’s behaviour, more confused that he would go out of his way to seemingly defend your honour – you assumed he wouldn’t want people to know that the two of you were even relatively acquainted. You mulled over your thoughts, confusion fogging your mind as you absentmindedly followed suite and exited the room amidst the other officers, heading back to the med-wing.
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Later that day, after you’d relayed all information back to your boss, and sent him the notes you’d made, you finally made the journey back to your room. Luckily, it was your day off tomorrow, so you could afford to have a nice, relaxing shower that would hopefully clear your mind of the stresses of the day.
Eventually, when you’d got out of the shower and put on less formal clothes, (not quite pyjamas – these were your own clothes so your evening consisted of leggings and an oversized shirt) you just so happened to check your padd for any messages from Yas, when you saw a message in your inbox that was unread. Upon checking it, your blood ran cold – it had been sent 8 minutes ago, and it was from Kylo himself. Not another officer messaging on his behalf, but from Kylo himself.
You sat bolt upright from where you had been reclining in bed, and double checked the message. It was from Kylo alright, and it had been sent-
“Eight minutes ago?!” You shrieked, hurriedly scrambling to your feet, shoving your feet in your usual uniformed shoes, pulling on a long cardigan and rushing out of your room. It took you longer than eight minutes to get to Kylo’s chambers, but it was a decent enough amount of delay from the time the message was sent to when you actually saw it, that Kylo would be sure to notice that you were eight minutes later than you should have been. He didn’t even set a time; he had simply requested your presence in his chamber, but the underlying message was that your presence was to be requested immediately.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
About fifteen minutes later, you skidded to a halt outside Kylo’s chambers, having run most of the way there. You frantically tried to catch your breath as you smoothed your hair, trying to appear as though you hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes worrying that your lungs were going to explode. You introduced yourself to the guards outside Kylo’s room, and no sooner than you spoke the door slid open, one of the guards gesturing for you to go through.
“You’re late.” Kylo stated after the door had closed behind you. He was standing at his window, back to you, helmet off.
“My apologies, Sir.” You began, taking a few cautious steps forwards. “I was…well, occupied at the time that you sent the message. Believe me, I would have come sooner if I had seen your request sooner-”
“Occupied?” Kylo turned to face you, his expression impassive as ever; his interrupting statement, rather than question lingering in the air. “I was under the impression that once your shift was over you no longer need to be occupied.”
“Um...” You flushed slightly, subconsciously running a hand through your damp hair. “Occupied…in my shower?” You avoided his burning stare. There was silence for a moment, as if Kylo was trying to determine whether or not he believed you without delving too deep into your mind.
“You are excused of your tardiness this time.” He eventually spoke, and you relaxed slightly.
“If I may, Sir, why did you want me here?” You ventured, rocking back and forth on your heels as you glanced around the (now) familiar room. “If it’s to do with the comments made in the meeting earlier, I apologise if I’ve done anything to-to damage your reputation-”
“If anyone was going to ruin my reputation, it would not be you.” He cut in coolly. “You are not exactly in a position to do so.” He gestured to a chair set out in front of his desk. “Sit. We have much to discuss.” You did as he said, shifting around on the surprisingly soft seat, trying to get comfortable. He too, sat down in a chair he seemingly pulled out of the shadows of his room.
“If you think it is better for not to…run into each other more often, Sir, I understand that.” You started, leaning forwards in your seat. “I feel like rumours about-” you paused, unsure if you could refer to whatever the two of you were as ‘us’, but decided to go with it anyway. “Us, have been following me for almost a week now and it could ruin any chance I have of becoming Chief Medical Officer because everyone thinks I just sleep around and haven’t earned my place because of my family name.” You continued in frustration. “And it doesn’t help that, no offence, you seem to acquire a range of injuries from who knows where, and nobody else seems to want to take up the job because they’re convinced we’re having an affair or something – I’m lucky my boss is sympathetic towards me otherwise I could have lost my job or been demoted by now.” The words seemed to tumble from your lips, unending.
“You think my situation is any better?” Kylo stood, beginning to pace around the room. “I have the power of the Force, I can easily tell what people are thinking, and they do little to conceal their thoughts in my presence.” He spun on his heel, his bulking form towering over you. “I will not be taken for a fool by those pathetic enough to believe such rumours. I will not let them defile my name and my presence, or yours-” he cut himself off as his voice grew louder in anger. You stood as well, anxiously wringing your hands.
“I appreciate that, Sir.” You said quietly. “I know what’s on the line for you, and I’m sorry that it got this far. Maybe it would be better for a different medic to attend to your many injuries.” You felt more dejected than you probably should – after all this was a professional relationship.
“That won’t be necessary. While I am sure your co-workers are capable at doing their job, I know that you are most familiar with what antidotes work with my body and what do not.” Kylo dismissed your suggestion.
“Well what do you suggest?” You asked, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “While I do enjoy your company, Sir, I don’t want our meetings to affect your image.” There was a pause as Kylo took in your words.
“No. I will not be bullied by my insubordinates.” You heard him say, almost to himself. “We shouldn’t even be having this conversation; I don’t need to please the rest of the fleet – I just need them to win me this fight against the rebellion.” He strode to stand in front of you, and you gazed up at him. “I should not have to change my behaviour for them, and neither should you.” You opened your mouth in protest.
“But Sir, I-”
“You are under my protection. If there is anyone giving you trouble, you will report it straight to me.” He stood tall, not like that was hard for him to do, and you swallowed heavily, in awe of the sheer power he radiated. “That is an order. Do you understand?” His voice grew quieter at the end of his sentence; but he was no less grand.
“Yes, Sir.” You replied, suddenly finding it difficult to speak clearly, a smile visible on your face for the first time that day. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I think we’re past the use of such formalities, considering that today you’ve been accused of sleeping your way to power and I have been accused of doing such with someone of a lower station.” He said smoothly, his face as clear of emotion as ever.
“How else should I address you?” You asked, slightly flustered. (And slightly stung by the ‘lower station’ jab but it was the truth.) This must be one of the most bizarre days of my life, you thought to yourself, mind racing.
“You strike me as an intelligent woman, Officer Y/N; surely you do not need me to spell it out for you. Obviously the usual title when others are present.” He said, now walking you towards his door, hands behind his back, his form looming over yours. “Just because I allowed you to address me as such in private, I must remind you I will not be as lenient when we are in public.” He said placidly.
You nodded in acknowledgement. Kylo it is then – that was the only less formal title that you could think of. “Of course. I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing, Kylo.” You saw the left corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly at your words as he opened the door, allowing you to step through. “I do hope you don't over-exert yourself in training, or do anything to worsen your injuries.” You called as you started to walk back down the corridor. “It would be a shame to meet again so prematurely.” For one of the most feared men in the galaxy, he isn’t nearly as subtle as he thinks, your smile widening as you walk back in the direction of your room, and you could have sworn you heard a chuckle echo down the corridor behind you.
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Taglist: @ah-callie​
(also tagging @joscelyn02​ - just in case you wanted to know when the next part was out :) )
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platypanthewriter · 3 years
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The Devil Looks After His Own Ch.3
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Chapter One | Two
Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV–but luckily, it doesn’t work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later.  Years later, they’re best friends, and Steve still doesn’t know the truth.   For @magniloquent-raven​!
“Y’know, I did take payment,” Billy said, as he snapped and Steve’s cereal was just marshmallows, and Steve shook his head. Billy snapped again, and there was some cereal in there again. “You were trying to give that Camaro set away to some demon, and when I showed up, I took it.”
Steve paused, frowning at his bowl, because he liked the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.
“Unless you want it back,” Billy said, cocking his head to catch Steve’s eye, and Steve shook his head hard.
“No, no, I don’t,” he said quickly. “D’you...really really like LEGOs?”
“Uhhh,” Billy made a face. “I like making things with you, because you really like ‘em. But it’s not about what I want, it’s something important to you. And that set was your favorite, right?”
“...it was new,” Steve mumbled, kicking his feet. “But it’s not…”
“Not what?” Billy asked, cautiously, and Steve bit his lips together, wondering what to say.
“D’you want all my LEGOs,” he finally asked. “Y-you can have all of them. D’you—”
“Hey, hey, kiddo,” Billy laughed, as Steve swallowed hard. “Hey, it’s okay, my man, what’s wrong?”
“It’s not enough,” Steve said, squeezing his spoon so hard it dug into his hand, and blinking hard to clear his eyes.
“...brat,” Billy said, fondly. “All I’ve done is make you cereal a couple times. You’ve still got some credit, really.”
“You’re my best friend,” Steve squeaked out, not crying, but kinda sounding like it anyway. He tried not to sniffle. “Y-you’re my best friend, you—you’re worth more than LEGOs.”
“Shit, c’mere, kidlet,” Billy said, coming around to hug him. “Nothing here to cry about, you little weirdo, what—”
“Are you on sale,” Steve demanded, pulling Billy closer. “How come you’re cheap—”
“Oh my god,” Billy snickered, because he wasn’t taking anything seriously.
“Is this like the Woohoo! stickered meat at Safeway,” Steve asked, shaking him. “Are—are you old?! Billy are you gonna die—”
“No!” Billy cackled. “No, no, I’m—I’m fine—”
“Are you gonna get slimy like the old mushrooms we bought?!” Steve whined, crying for real, and Billy started laughing too hard to talk. “You’re not even listening,” Steve mumbled as Billy squeezed him tightly, stroking his hair.
“Lucifer falling,” Billy mumbled, kissing Steve’s head. “I’m okay, alright? I’m—I’m not past my expiration date.”
“When is it,” Steve asked anxiously, and Billy started snickering again, wiping his eyes.
“It’s not for a few thousand years,” Billy promised, and Steve mouthed it, wide-eyed.
“...oh,” said Steve, trying to figure out the math on the huge number. Even his dad, he was pretty sure, wasn’t more than a hundred. “...how old is my dad?” he asked, thinking, and Billy frowned thoughtfully.
“Younger than me,” he said, with certainty. “Maybe just a few hundred years old?”
“Oh,” Steve said, doubtfully, and then he squinted over at the card on the fridge. It said ‘Over the Hill: Congrats on the big 4-0!’ and Steve frowned at it. “...his birthday card says he was forty,” he said, and Billy stilled.
“...forty what?” he asked.
“...yeeeears?” Steve guessed, less certain in the face of Billy’s disbelief. “I...I think when my mom’s grandma died, she was seventy-eight. Years,” he added, for Billy. It had seemed like an impossibly large number at the time.
“...years,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed. “Not—not centuries, just years.” His grip tightened on Steve, and he finally looked upset. “You—you’re going to die in years.”
“...unless I get sick,” Steve told him honestly, and then wished he hadn’t, because Billy made a choking noise in his throat, and hugged him tighter. “Um, it’s—it’s a lot of years,” he muttered, into Billy’s shoulder, and Billy shook his head, sniffling.
“No, it’s not,” he breathed. “Fuck. Shit. I—damn it, kid.”
“It’s okay,” Steve told him, grimacing, and patting Billy’s shoulder. “Don’t cry. You—you can, um, you can get a...dog. You can play with my LEGOs.”
“That’s the most depressing picture, damn,” Billy muttered, wiping his eyes. “You sure you don’t want immortality instead of marshmallows, kiddo?”
“I-immune?” Steve muttered, frowning, and Billy messed up his hair. Steve yelled and batted at him, giggling.
“You wanna live forever with me, short stuff?” Billy asked, ducking away from Steve swinging a rolled-up magazine at him in revenge. Steve paused mid-swing, frowning suspiciously at him, and Billy laughed. “You wanna just be a kid and play with LEGOs forever?”
“...I wanna grow up,” Steve said, with certainty, after some thought. “And play with LEGOs.”
“...yeah, I figured,” Billy said, smiling a little.
“I want a credit card,” Steve told him, and Billy snorted a laugh. “...what happens to you when I die? Do you get to go home?” Steve asked, and Billy made a face. “...where is home?” Steve asked, more cautiously.
“Nowhere I wanna go,” Billy told him, messing his hair up again.
He looked kind of lonely all afternoon, Steve thought. There wasn’t much Steve could do about death, really, so finally he just hit Billy with a water balloon.
They took a long time to decide on a house for Billy. Finally Steve took all his kits out, and stared at them, while Billy fidgeted next to him on the bed.
“What if we put them all together,” Steve whispered, feeling like it was something forbidden. “I put them all together by myself already. We—we could make you a—a castle with a space shuttle on top, and a Millenium Falcon, and—and dungeons.”
“Those might come in handy,” Billy said, nodding, and Steve giggled. “I need a garage for my Camaro, too.”
“It’s a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28,” Steve told him, feeling like Nancy when she corrected people about dinosaur feathers.
Billy shrank down to the size of his hand and helped, running around the table and kicking through piles of loose LEGO to find pieces, and they added some things to support the weight of stuff hanging off the sides. Steve had been grinning so hard his cheeks were sore, his feet numb from sitting on them all evening, when his mom poked her head in, and Billy leapt through a LEGO window to hide.
“...what a mess,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It���s gonna take you hours to sort these back into bags.”
“I’m making a tower,” Steve told her, since that was mostly what it looked like. “I’ll put all the extra parts away, though.”
“Eugh,” she said, and shut the door without remembering to say goodnight.
“How’d they get you as a kid?” Billy asked, from inside the haunted mansion, and Steve sighed.
“Probably I was on sale,” he muttered. “Dad will buy anything if there’s a coupon for it,” and Billy started laughing so hard he had to grab the fancy goblet stuck to the table, for support. Steve grinned, watching him standing next to the dangling skeleton. “You wanna try the elevator?” he asked. “It actually moves.”
“It actually falls, more like,” Billy said, making a face. His voice was kind of reedy. “No way.”
“...can you get...hurt, this size?” Steve asked, suddenly horrified, and Billy shrugged, leaning out to look at the elevator.
“My bones are tiny,” he said. “I could stay sturdy, but I’d weigh a lot, y’know, I’d probably break your LEGO set.”
“Oh,” Steve said softly, jerking his hands back from the set. “Do—do you need help getting down?”
“I’m fine, probably,” Billy said, and then promptly fell out as he tried to edge around the table, and Steve yelped and caught him in both hands. He weighed almost nothing, like a bird.
“Be careful,” Steve hissed at him.
“I can heal myself, probably,” Billy panted, wide-eyed, and Steve found another drawback of minifigure-sized Billy, when he tried to hug him, and had to just gingerly brush his cheek against Billy’s whole body.
“It doesn’t matter if you heal,” Steve hissed. “It still would hurt, right?!”
“...yeah, but if I fix it, I’m okay again,” Billy said, laughing, and Steve lifted him up so Billy was only a couple inches from his nose, and Steve could see his expression. Billy grabbed his thumb.
“...if I fall down the stairs and break my arms and my legs and my head open,” Steve said, remembering Billy’s panicked yell when Steve had slipped on the cement stairs outside, in the rain, and clonked his head on the rod-iron railing, “—is it fine if you fix it?”
“Holy crap, kid, don’t even say that,” Billy breathed.
“So it’s not okay if you fall down the LEGO stairs either,” Steve hissed, and Billy blinked at him, then laughed a little, and Steve could swear his face went a little red.
“I’m not human, short stuff. It’s different.”
“It’s not,” Steve said stubbornly. Billy waved to the Death Star, and Steve held his hand next to one of the conference room chairs, then grimaced. “Don’t fall again,” he told his tiny best friend. “I’m gonna put railings in,” he decided, rooting through the pile of discarded LEGO. “You can’t just fix yourself—”
“I do,” Billy said, laughing, and Steve stopped.
“...Billy,” he said softly, “—when?”
“...just...sometimes,” Billy said, climbing up on the table and kicking the Darth Vader minifigure in the head so it flew and knocked into the Palpatine minifig, which distracted Steve for a second, because it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.
He covered his eyes. “Billy.”
Billy groaned. “You know. Like the time I didn’t know not to put cold glass under the hot water, and it blew up in my hand. Or that time in the parking lot when you didn’t look, and that car almost crushed you against the cement divider, and I pushed you out of the way.”
Steve remembered that one—he’d been kinda mad about it, because Billy’d shoved him to the ground, and he’d skinned his knees—but he remembered he hadn’t said so, because Billy was pale and shaken, and made Steve promise about 900 things about car safety. “...you...fixed...the car hit you?!” he breathed, his hands twitching as he longed to hug Billy, but couldn’t grab him when he was so small. “You—the—”
“I fixed it,” Billy waved his hands, laughing. “It wasn’t expensive—”
“You—could you have—moved yourself, or stopped the car,” Steve whispered, sitting on his hands.
“I might have had to alter the driver’s memories if I teleported, though, and moving the car is expensive, too, how many LEGO sets you wanna burn through to keep me, Stevie—”
“...Billy,” Steve said blankly. His eyes stung.
“Don’t wanna wear out my welcome,” Billy said, laughing.
“These are all yours now,” Steve said, waving at the stacked sets, ceiling-high. “The-they’re all. Yours. If—if you need more we can—we can do. Something. Don’t get hurt. Even if you can fix it.”
“...you don’t need to give me all that,” Billy said, frowning down.
“I love LEGO but you’re more important,” Steve told him, gritting his teeth, because Billy should have known that, and if he didn’t, maybe Steve had screwed something up. “You’re super important, Billy.”
“...okay,” Billy said, sounding confused.
“Save the—the magic for nobody getting hurt,” Steve told him, crossing his arms. “Obviously. What—what are you doing, anyway, are you stupid?! Don’t get hurt, Billy. That’s an order.”
“Oooo, an order, big man,” Billy said, laughing.
“An order, and you have to listen to this one,” Steve growled.
“You told me I can decide what to do after I listen,” Billy said, because he was a dick, and Steve told him so.
“You’re being an asshole,” he whispered, so his parents didn’t hear.
“I’ll try not to get hurt,” Billy told him, tossing Palpatine out on the rug, “—but no promises. Keep that guy out there, he reminds me of my dad.”
“He can go in the dungeon,” Steve suggested. “You promise? You’ll try.”
“Yeah, yeah. Put Darth Vader down there too, he sucks.” They put Doc Ock and Harley Quinn in there too, and Jafar, a clown Billy thought looked suspicious, and a lady in a horned helmet Steve was pretty sure wasn’t on the side of the heroes.
“No innocent until proven guilty here, I guess,” Billy said, sitting on the edge of the pirate ship on the mansion’s roof, and kicking his legs. “Maybe she was born a minotaur, you ever think of that?”
Steve giggled, and put the horned lady out with the topiaries. “We can see how she behaves,” he said. “But she’s not the minotaur—”
“Put Dumbledore in the dungeon too,” Billy pointed a flag he’d wrested off the pirate ship. “He is not responsible about the safety of his school.”
“And this mafia guy,” Steve said, and Billy gasped.
“Profiling! You just assume he’s mafia?!”
“He has a gun and a chainsaw,” Steve snickered harder, but sat him up in the conference room.
“Elsa should go in the dungeon too, from Frozen,” Billy said thoughtfully, and Steve fell over laughing, because Billy had yelled for an hour after that movie. “She froze a whole damn country,” Billy pointed out. “Sure, she warmed it up eventually, but how many people froze in the meantime?!”
“Let it go,” Steve gasped, wiping his eyes.
“What about the dead babies, Stevie? Should I let them go?” Billy asked, his hands on his hips. He looked hilarious with one foot on the LEGO rigging of the pirate ship, flag in hand. “You got any blue frozen children we can put with her?”
“Oh my god,” Steve cackled, rolling onto his back. His stomach hurt.
As the school year went on, Steve made more friends. Billy looked kind of lost the first time Steve got invited away for a slumber party, but Steve couldn’t help thinking about how magical beings required a price, and wondering when he wouldn’t be able to afford Billy being his friend anymore.
He’d gotten more esoteric in his reading, since Billy wouldn’t answer certain questions, and he’d found Grateful Dead stories at the library, all about travelers finding a corpse and burying it, only to be helped by its spirit for years, like Cinderella and her dead mom giving her dresses. In his reading, those sounded the most like Billy, since he wasn’t exactly a genie. Steve racked his brain trying to remember a bird he might have buried, or roadkill he’d pushed out of the road, but Billy didn’t like talking about who he’d been before Steve, so he was reluctant to ask.
The thought that Billy might be dead, might just...run out one day and vanish, used up when he’d repaid his debt to Steve, was so lonely Steve clung to him for nearly a week, sitting in his lap as they watched TV at night, and not paying enough attention to anything Billy said. He was so bad at acting normal about it that Billy tried to take him to the doctor, and Steve had to get ahold of himself, and start planning for when Billy was gone.
He started by making friends. He complimented Barb on her tidy desk when they did coloring, and Tommy on his new boots, and Nancy on her treasure hunt clues at recess. He passed his fruit snacks around, and pretty soon other kids shared too.
Billy got quieter. After a few days, Steve drug him around the side of the gym again and hugged him, squeezing him as tight as he could, until he hugged back so hard his fingers dug in against Steve’s shoulder blades.
“I’m not bored of you,” Steve told him, sliding his fingers into Billy’s hair, and brushing his thumb over Billy’s earring. “You’re my favorite too.”
Billy sighed into his shoulder, burying his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve held onto him. “...you ever want me to leave, tell me, and I’ll go,” Billy said softly, and Steve shook his head frantically, hugging him tighter, clumsily, so Billy’s shirt hitched up under his arm, and Billy’s skull thudded against Steve’s jaw.
“I don’t want you to leave ever,” Steve whispered, so fervently his voice shook, and Billy sighed, relaxing in his arms. “...how...how long can you stay,” he whispered, sniffling back tears, and Billy twitched.
“What d’you—I can stay, Stevie,” he said softly, but Steve shook his head, pulling his hand back to wipe his eyes.
“Genies run out,” he hissed, crying harder. “Ghosts fade. What are you, Billy, how can—how can I—”
“Oh, shit,” Billy muttered, grabbing his face, and Steve laughed, sniffling. “No, no, I’m—I’m not leaving, I swear.”
“I-if I don’t ask for things?” Steve offered, and Billy bit his lips.
“You can ask for things,” he muttered. “I—I’ll just tell you how much it would be. You can give me more LEGOs.”
“Okay,” Steve told him, used to the weight in his stomach that was worry about Billy. He squeezed tighter.
That night, he couldn’t sleep, and Billy finally called over from his matchbox bed in the space shuttle. “You okay, kid?”
Steve stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears, and trying not to sniffle.
“...are you dead?” he asked, finally, in a scratchy voice that hurt his throat. “Billy?”
Billy ran down like six staircases through the sets to stand on Steve’s bedside table, and Steve put his arm out for Billy to scoot down. “What,” he said, climbing up to stand on Steve’s chest, and Steve tried not to move too much as he pushed his pillow more under his head, so Billy wouldn’t fall.
“Are you dead,” he asked. “Is—is that why you can...do things? And—and why you’re so old?”
“No, I’m not dead, what the—heck, kid,” Billy sighed, sitting cross legged on Steve’s chest like a little Disney fairy. He was cute, and Steve sighed, trying not to smile when Billy looked upset.
“...you’re not a fairy or a genie, exactly,” Steve said, wiping his nose. A tear slid down around his cheek, and dripped warm onto his neck. “Cinderella’s dead mom granted wishes.”
“...I thought that was a fairy,” Billy said, frowning distractedly, and Steve shook his head.
“I read a book in the library that said she was actually a nice ghost. Disney changed it.”
“Huh,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows, then shook his head. “Anyway, no, I’m not dead.”
“Good,” Steve said, swallowing hard, and Billy got up, nervously, and walked up to pat uncertainly at Steve’s chin. “I love it when you forget you can change size,” Steve giggled wetly. “Turn kid-sized.”
Billy did, his weight squishing Steve’s chest until he scrambled off, but Steve grabbed him, and hugged him close.
Check out my other Harringrove stuff! 
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glimmerglanger · 4 years
Text
Whumptober2020 - Day 7
Day 7 of Whumptober and Part 7 of the Oof!au. This is.... rock bottom, everyone. On the plus side: no where to go but up. On the downside....this is where Anakin remembers how to really hurt Obi-Wan, after being distracted for a long time. 
Basic information: Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan. Eventual happy(ish) ending.
WARNINGS: Abuse of a prisoner, mentions of torture, mind controlled into killing people, mentions of non-con, character death (not main characters). PLEASE consider the warnings before you read. Dead dove, do not eat, etc. This is the lowest we go. It’s VERY low.
No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY 
Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage
 Obi-Wan laughed, shakily, when he woke up again in the cell. The sound just slipped out, and something about the tone of it made him clench his teeth shut, swallow it back. It soured in his chest, held tight within him as he breathed raggedly, trying to find balance and--and succeeding, after too long a moment.
He thought about leveraging himself off of the floor, but could see no point to it. He pulled his legs up, instead, making himself small, shifting to wedge himself further into the corner.
All the wounds were gone. Every single one of them, wiped away again by the med-droids. The sudden lack of them was jarring, confusing. It made everything that had happened feel more like a dream. Like a nightmare.
But even his nightmares - foul as they were - never managed to be so viscerally horrible. He stared at the far wall, trying very hard not to remember the way Cody - it wasn’t Cody, it hadn’t been Cody, not really, just  his body used as another way for Anakin to rape him - had shoved into him, held him down and--
He bit his tongue until blood flooded his mouth and then he swallowed it, grounding himself on the pain and the nauseating taste of salt and copper. He hadn’t had many pleasant memories to keep him company, during his exile. He’d barely dared allow himself to remember softer touches, promises of what they might do after the war, wants bubbling between them…
Once, he’d imagined taking Cody to his bed, after - after everything. When there were not so many responsibilities on them. When he could be sure, utterly, that it was what Cody wanted, not just rank, or - or anything else. He’d imagined kissing Cody softly, taking their time, sharing touches that didn’t hurt at all, and-- Anakin had taken that hope and made it something foul and horrible. There’d been no kisses, there’d been only - only pain and --
Pain and, he considered, swallowing blood, his mind looking desperately for anything else to focus on, the off-rhythm tapping of Cody’s index finger against his hip. It had been the only thing he could focus on that didn’t hurt, taking himself out of his own head, there in Anakin’s torture chamber.
The tapping had made no sense, not in the room, when horror had driven thought from Obi-Wan’s head. But...but he had time to consider it, further, staring at nothing, remembering despite all of his best efforts.
Memories crawled into his head, recollections from the war, from hunkering down beside Cody behind a makeshift barrier, gesturing instructions, preparing to spring out on the droids closing on their position, Cody knocking his fingers against the top of Obi-Wan’s thigh in the same pattern and--
And they’d developed the short-hand language themselves, at first just to kill time when they were stuck on one miserable world or the other. It had made sense to have signs of their own; the Separatists were always cracking Republic codes. Obi-Wan thought, with the benefit of hindsight, that had probably been intentional on Palpatine’s part.
So, they’d made their own language to speak silently in battle, to communicate plans and ideas quickly. 
Obi-Wan sat up, his heart lurching in his chest, all at once, as memory shoved together the facts inside his head, leaving him gasping. 
Because Cody had been tapping code onto his hip, their code - the 212th’s code - the language not even Anakin had ever learned. “No,” he’d said. “No,” over and over and over and over, against Obi-Wan’s skin.
Obi-Wan lurched to his feet with nowhere to go, bile burning up the back of his throat, his heart clenched hard in his chest. He did not know what had been done to the troopers. He’d been afraid to hope it could be undone. But-- but Cody remembered something. And he’d said “no,” over and over again. He’d talked to Obi-Wan. He’d--
He was in there, somewhere.
And that changed everything.
Obi-Wan stood there, breathing heavily, and tried to determine what he was possibly going to do next. He tried to remember if he’d - he’d told Cody it was alright. If Cody were in there, if he’d been tormented, too, had Obi-Wan said the right things? Had he said anything? His memories were a blur of pain and confusion. But he thought he had. He held onto that thought, tightly, as he tried to plan his next steps.
#
There was not much Obi-Wan could possibly do. He did not know where Anakin had gone and did not much care. He braced, every time a trooper entered the room, recalling Anakin’s last words, but…
None of them made any move to touch him in such a way. He wondered if the troopers had simply not relayed Anakin’s orders, or if the very wording just made no sense to them in their current state. What did they know of joy, he wondered, watching them file in to feed him.
Still, he tapped out, quickly, “Thank you,” on Cody’s thigh, when they fed him, and felt him go still all over for a moment. And it was enough to kindle the failing sparks of hope inside Obi-Wan’s chest.
Cody was in there, somewhere. They were all in there, somewhere.
Obi-Wan would get them all out. Because if Cody had retained some piece of himself… There was no reason to believe it wasn’t true for the rest of them. Others had tapped against his skin, he recalled, shivering as his thoughts raced. They were still in their minds. Somehow.
And like hell was Obi-Wan going to leave him men to suffer this un-death, this un-making of all they were. He’d sworn to protect them, long ago. He’d failed in so many of his vows and duties. He wouldn’t fail that one.
#
Obi-Wan had not managed to escape by the time Anakin returned. He braced himself as the troopers came for him, pulling him to his feet and hauling him through the base, wondering what new horrors Anakin had devised to unleash upon him.
Anakin had left the viewscreen open, again. The contact turmoil of Mustafar filled the room with angry, red light. It was a reminder, every time, of all of Obi-Wan’s mistakes and failings. He had failed to keep Anakin from falling to the Dark. And then he had failed to take the final, necessary step there on the edge of the lava.
He’d paid for his mistakes, but so had the rest of the galaxy.
He wouldn’t fail again, if given the chance.
He shook those thoughts aside as Anakin said, “I do hope you’re going to be more reasonable this time, old man.”
“I doubt that,” Obi-Wan replied. Talking still hurt. And he was no longer sure if his voice would ever return to its normal state. “I think you rather enjoy having an excuse to inflict pain, don’t you? If I didn’t provide you with one, you’d have to go to all the trouble of manufacturing a reason to hurt me.”
Anakin made a sharp sound, turned half-away and snapped, “Get on your knees.”
Obi-Wan sighed. He wondered why they had to keep engaging in this song and dance. They both knew he wasn’t going to kneel under his own power. But perhaps it brought Anakin whatever twisted kind of joy he could feel, in his present condition, to hold out the illusion of choice. Obi-Wan said, waiting for the pain, “I won’t.”
Anakin nodded, which was a surprise and a change from their usual script. He swept away from the open window, stalking over to his throne and sitting. He said, “I thought you’d say that, Obi-Wan. But I think you’ll change your mind. I’ve had an epiphany, you see.”
“Oh?” Obi-Wan asked, arching an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ve realized--”
“2224,” Anakin interrupted, and Obi-Wan worked to keep his expression still and calm as the unbroken surface of a lake. So, it was to be more of this particular torment. He tried to keep the revulsion and horror off of his face, tried--
“Draw your blaster.” Obi-Wan blinked, startled. It seemed unlikely that Anakin intended to actually kill him. Death would mean an end to whatever enjoyment Anakin drew from torturing him. And merely making the threat without any intent to carry it out would… defang him. 
He said, lifting his chin, “I’m not going to beg for my life.”
Anakin lifted his chin, just a little, mask ever unchanging but pleasure in his voice when he said, “Oh, I know that.” And then he waved a hand, lazy, and added, “Shoot 4574.”
Something froze inside Obi-Wan’s chest. He jerked to look, turning in time to hear the blaster shot, to watch Trip sway on his feet and then just - just collapse, down and back, smoke curling from his temple. Cody had shot him cleanly, at least he hadn’t suffered, more, but--
“Stop!” Obi-Wan cried out, the word a rasp through his damaged throat. He looked back at Anakin, wide-eyed. “What are you--”
“Shoot 6762 next,” Anakin said, hands gripping the edge of his throne, leaning forward a little, and Obi-Wan couldn’t--he wasn’t even getting time to do anything to stop it, watching another one of his men fall. “Now 34--”
There was no thought to dropping to his knees. Obi-Wan hit hard, not even bothering to try to steady himself. It hurt, but it was a distant, far away kind of pain. “Ah,” Anakin said, pleasure and satisfaction dripping off of his tone. 
“Ever the Jedi,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan heard him stand but could not look away from Cody, standing there blank-faced, the blaster still up, pointing towards Bones, who was just standing there, waiting to die. “Even now. Even with the Order completely and justly destroyed. You’ve always been weak like this, haven’t you? I was working with the Zygerrians, of late. It reminded me. I wonder how weak you are, really?”
Obi-Wan looked up at him, breathing raggedly. He said, “Don’t hurt them.”
“I will do as I wish,” Anakin said. “2224--”
“No!” Obi-Wan shouted, as best as he could, his voice was still wrong. “I’m--”
“Put the blaster against your head.” And Obi-Wan froze, his heart lurching sideways in his chest, agony sweeping through him. He turned, helplessly, watching Cody lift the blaster and snug the barrel against his temple without any evidence of hesitation. The world shifted, terribly, under Obi-Wan, his gut lurching.
From somewhere far away, Anakin said, “Pull the--”
“Please, don’t,” Obi-Wan gasped out, the words dragged out of him. “I’m kneeling. Please.”
Anakin hesitated and shook his head. He sounded… disgusted when he said, ”Look at you. Begging for the life of this thing. Even after what it did to you.”
Obi-Wan rasped out, “He didn’t do anything to me. You--”
He cut off as fingers clenched into his hair, dragging his head back, forcing him to look up into Anakin’s dark mask. “It beat you almost to death,” Anakin hissed, “it forced itself on you. Didn’t it?”
Obi-Wan’s heart beat against his ribs, uncomfortably fast. The threat of the blaster against Cody’s head echoed between each word Anakin spoke. And the truth would not serve him, in that instant. It wouldn’t serve Cody. Obi-Wan swallowed and lied, “Yes.”
Anakin’s grip tightened briefly in his hair, Anakin’s breath hitched, tellingly. He shifted a little closer, a looming shadow, and his voice had gotten raspy when he said, “Call me by my name.”
And Obi-Wan weighed the lie against Cody’s life, for less than an instant, because it was no contest. He stared up into his own reflection, knowing he’d do whatever was necessary to keep Cody’s finger from pulling that trigger, ever again, and said, “Lord Vader.”
“There,” Anakin said, satisfaction curling around the word as he reached out, cupping Obi-Wan’s cheek, “that wasn’t so hard, was it? All the pain you went through, just to avoid two little words. It wasn’t worth it, was it, Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan’s gut was hard and cold as rock, but he kept his voice steady, lying, “No.”
“I like you like this,” Anakin said, voice rumbling. “Agreeable. On your knees.” He stroked his thumb up, across Obi-Wan’s cheek. “But I’m not sure I’ve been convinced to spare 2224, here. It's defective, you know. Keeping it around is a drain on resources.”
“Please,” Obi-Wan said, because he did not need the Force to read this situation. He’d been in the hands of sadists more times than he could count, the power mad and and the power hungry. And he knew Anakin, better than anyone in the galaxy ever had, perhaps. “Please, Lord Vader, don’t kill him.”
Anakin made a little sound, thoughtful. “That’s the best you can do?”
Obi-Wan’s breath caught, just for a second, something breaking in his chest. It felt like his heart. “I’m begging you,” he said, and heard Anakin make a surprised, thick sound. “Please.” And he swallowed, tipping his head forward, as much as he could with Anakin’s fingers in his hair, “Please, spare him.”
“I don’t know,” Anakin said, tugging him forward, just a little, taking his hand off of Obi-Wan’s face, reaching for his armor, instead, Obi-Wan’s stomach turning over as nausea surged up his throat. “I’m not convinced, yet.”
“Please,” he said, his voice steady through sheer force of will as he made himself wet his bottom lip, knowing where this was going, seeing the terrible conclusion like the edge of a cliff, one he had no choice but to run over, because the alternative was letting any more of his men die, and he wouldn’t do that. Ever. “Let me convince you.”
And when it was done, when Anakin released his hair and let him slump down, gasping for breath, his mouth aching and his throat sore, his vision blurry, Anakin said, “I suppose that’s good enough. For now. You’ve always used your mouth well. Put the blaster away, 2224. And get him cleaned up. Bring him to my quarters when he’s...presentable. I wish to celebrate my victory properly.”
Anakin strode away then, cloak snapping, head high. He’d always been so smug, after a victory. Obi-Wan shuddered, shaking all over, waiting to be hauled to his feet. Nothing happened, for a long moment, long enough for him to look up, though he did not want to look into Cody’s face, at the moment, shame curdling in his gut at what he’d done--
Cody was staring forward, blaster still against his head, his free hand down by his side, finger jumping, tapping out, out-of-rhythm, “No, no, no, no, no.” There was blood, running down the side of his neck, and horror kicked over fresh and new in Obi-Wan’s gut.
“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan blurted, his heart shattering a bit more in his chest with each beat. But-- but his heart had broken to pieces before. He’d kept living. “Cody, please, put the blaster down, please, don’t--”
Obi-Wan jerked when two other troopers grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet, where he swayed, feeling disoriented and dizzy, sick. Cody had not moved at all, by the time the troopers dragged Obi-Wan through the door, past the bodies of their dead brothers, who they didn’t even regard. “Cody! Don’t! Please!”
Obi-Wan hung onto the sight of him as the droids cleaned him up, as troopers dragged him back to Anakin’s rooms - not his throne room, but - but what appeared to be his actual quarters. There were troopers in the room. Lined up along one wall. A single trooper across from them, blaster drawn, finger on the trigger. Anakin looked him over and said, his voice thick and rasping, “Get on the bed.”
Obi-Wan thought about a blaster pressed against the side of Cody’s head, about Padmé, about the slaughtered younglings, his family, his men, the only people he had left, who needed him…. And he turned, looked at the bed, and said, “Yes, Lord Vader.”
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ladyvader23 · 4 years
Text
The School Play
For @slx99, who inspired me to write this little Dad Vader piece! I also have no idea if walrus’ exist in the Star Wars universe, but THEY DO NOW! 
I also take requests!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vader stared in horror at the announcement slip his children had brought home from preschool. 
Apparently, the children would be putting on a play--or, rather, a presentation, if the description was anything to go by. The school had the children research a topic, and the children would be putting on a dramatic retelling of what they’d learned. It actually sounded terribly boring, but he’d read in that parenting book the children’s pediatrician had given him that supporting their interests, including school activities, helped foster confidence in children. An important quality in the two most important children in the galaxy, even if his presence would terrify everyone else in the room. 
The problem wasn’t the boring play. It was what his son was signed up to be. 
A walrus. 
A walrus. 
Leia had a stormtrooper, which was normal enough. But Luke had a walrus? How in the galaxy had he even had the misfortune of getting such an unfortunate aquatic creature?! 
He looked up at Miss Laena, who’d handed him the announcement slip in the first place. “My son will not play a walrus in front of a crowd of people!” 
The school the children went to was full of senator’s children, as well as other important Imperial figures, such as Grand Moffs, generals, and the like. Vader doubted most of those important figures would actually be at the play; most likely, their partners or nannies would go. But it did not matter. Word would spread fast that the son of Darth Vader had played a walrus. 
“Luke is very excited about the play, my lord.” Miss Laena said carefully. “It’s all he’s been talking about for weeks, now. I even helped him make the costume.” 
His stomach dropped. “There’s a costume?” 
It just got worse and worse. 
“Yes, my lord. I might be able to pull together another one in time, but it will break his heart.” 
Vader gritted his teeth. If this was any other assignment, he’d tell the boy to deal with whatever he chose for him, but he also didn’t need him crying on stage in front of everyone because he was unhappy. 
He would need to convince him. 
“Summon my son. I will speak with him.” 
Miss Laena hurried to do so, and soon the tiny form of his son came running into his office, immediately climbing (uninvited) into his lap. Vader had no change to stop him before his little arms wrapped around his neck with a hug. 
Despite the dire situation, he couldn’t help but melt a little under the embrace. 
“Hi daddy!” Luke said, pulling away after a moment, settling in comfortably on his leg. “Am I in trouble?” 
Perhaps that was the reason for the immediate hug. He would need to discourage such behavior in the future. 
“No, my son.” He reached up and ruffled his hair. “I just wanted to know why you were assigned to be a walrus in this play.” 
Luke brightened. “Oh! I’m going to be a walrus, daddy!” 
“Yes, but why?” Perhaps he hadn’t understood the phrasing of his first question. He struggled to speak on a level the twins would understand, at times. 
“Because I like them.” 
Vader winced. That would make it harder to convince him to change topics. 
“But why?” 
Luke shrugged. “They look funny.” 
And that was precisely why he didn’t want him to play a walrus in the first place. “Why don’t I help you choose something diff--” he cut off as Luke’s expression immediately began to fall, his eyes watering. 
“No, daddy, I wanna be a walrus!” 
Damn. 
Already, just from his presence alone, Vader could tell it would be far more of a fight to force him to choose something else than to just do the walrus. 
“...I will need to have a word with the school. But fine.” 
Immediately the tears were gone, and Luke threw his arms around him again before climbing off and running to find his sister. Vader watched after him, wondering how his children had so thoroughly wrapped him around their fingers, before he pulled up his datapad to send a message to the school principal to order that no footage be allowed at the play. 
If Luke insisted, he could at least make sure the incident was nothing more than a strange, unconfirmed rumor. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night of the play, he’d debated on pretending his schedule was too full to attend. That way, perhaps no one would notice that the son of Darth Vader was dressed as a walrus. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of things to do instead anyway, but every time he thought about not showing up, the imagined disappointment in his children’s faces when they returned home was enough to guilt him into keeping the time reserved for the play. 
That didn’t mean he didn’t show up at the last possible second before they closed the doors for the performance. 
Naturally, the moment he walked in, a hush fell over the crowd of nannies and parents. He made a face when he recognized a few important officials there who were also apparently trying to be good parents despite their schedules. Normally he could respect that, but today of all days, he wished they’d remained at work. 
The principal, a short, portly man, came rushing over not long after he’d found a corner to stand in. “I have issued a strict no recording policy as you wished, Lord Vader.” 
“Good.” Vader crossed his arms, looking over his head to the curtained stage. “Because if there is any recording of my children distributed, I will personally pay you a visit.” 
The man paled, gulped, and nodded. “Understood, my lord.” Then he turned and rushed off. 
Moments later, the lights dimmed, and an announcement was made over a microphone to remind everyone of the very fact that no recording was allowed. He half expected them to use him as an excuse, but they mentioned nothing of the rule being a direct order from him. 
Hm. He might have mentioned it just to make sure, but if he had to dispose of the principal, he would not lose sleep over it. His children barely knew the man and wouldn’t notice if he disappeared. Perhaps he’d do it anyway just for the fact that someone in his staff showed the boy a picture of the infernal animal in the first place. 
Once the announcement was made, the “play” began. Sure enough, it was less of a play and more of various small children of different species in costumes reciting facts about whatever they’d researched for the parents. This was followed up by polite clapping, which he did not participate in. They were not his children, after all. He did not care, and he thought most of them were terribly boring anyway. 
He was also certain that none of these children had actually done their own research. What a complete waste of time and resources. 
But then came Leia. Somehow, Miss Laena had managed to help her construct an almost perfect replica of a stormtrooper armor set, fit perfectly to her petite size. The only thing that he could tell was real was the helmet, which she carried in her arms as more of a prop than anything else. 
When she walked onto the stage...as he suspected she would, she immediately acted as though the entire room was there for her. She squared her shoulders, looking over the audience with as high and mighty of a look that an almost five year old could muster. 
“Stormtroopers are soldiers who help protect the Empire.” She spoke clearly into the microphone. It was...well, as natural as a four year old could get, and a pang went through his chest at the thought of her suddenly looking very much like a mini version of her mother. “They serve over the whole Empire. They can be foot soldiers, or fly TIE fighters, like my daddy does.” 
He wondered if that was something she was supposed to say, or if she said it just because she was proud of what he did for a living. Not that she knew the full extent of that, but...he offered a rare, unseen smile nonetheless. 
“This is a real stormtrooper helmet. My friend let me use it tonight.” Friend? What friend? “Stormtroopers are not like clone troopers. They’re normal people like you and me.” 
He refrained from snorting at that. In his opinion, Clone Troops were far superior, but the Emperor did not seem to care for that opinion. 
“There’s also lots of types of stormtroopers. You can tell what they are because of their uniform. In conclusion, stormtroopers are pretty cool and I like them. They keep us safe, and are friends to all.” 
That...didn’t really make sense. But she was four, and again, probably had her lines written by someone else. Still, when she finished and did a little curtsy, he clapped proudly for the first time the entire show, then watched as she practically skipped off stage. 
Then...it was Luke’s turn. 
It was an experience to have one child give a basic but Imperial pride-supporting speech, then directly afterwards have another child walk out wearing a walrus costume to talk about an animal he’d never even personally seen before. He was sure that anyone who knew Luke was his son probably had a lot of questions he’d never answer right about now. 
But there Luke was, walking out wearing a well made, but monstrosity of a costume. He wore a dark gray, long-sleeved tunic that reached his knees, except that the sleeves ended well past where he knew Luke’s hands to be, and the end was in the shape of walrus flippers. A tail flopped around with each step Luke took, and his head was almost completely engulfed by a walrus-face hood. The face opening was framed by two giant tusks, what he supposed were whiskers, and at the top of the hood, giant eyes that Vader could swear were staring into his soul. 
And underneath, Luke had obviously painted his face. Probably the same color as the tunic. 
Half of Vader wanted to have the ground open up and swallow him whole. The other half was admittedly impressed with the lengths his son had put his nanny up to in making this costume. He was also dead certain that if Luke looked back on this costume as an adult, he’d be embarrassed beyond all reason. 
“Walruses are water animals who live on water worlds like Mon Cala.” Luke began, just as confidently as Leia. It was also obvious he was very proud of the whole thing; he was bouncing a bit in excitement, causing the tail to flop around constantly. Nearby, Vader heard a few parents coo adoringly at the display. 
He wondered if it would be noticeable if he used the Force to hold his son in place. 
“They can dive deep in the water, but they like to stay near land. They are really, really fat. Also, both the girls and the boy walruses have tusks, like this!” He reached up and tugged on the tusks, earning chuckles from the crowd. 
Well. Both of his children definitely liked to use visual aids. It was interesting to know, at least. 
“They also live for a super long time. Forty years!” Luke lifted his flipper-hands up in excitement. “They also can live in the cold because they’re fat. They like to eat fish. And they make these really funny noises, like--” then Luke proceeded to demonstrate, and more laughter erupted around the room. 
As well as Luke was doing, Vader couldn’t help but curse whoever had even shown the cursed animal to his son. He would definitely be finding a replacement for the principal after he was through with him. 
What had he done to encourage such a fascination with the animal? He was from the desert, so this had to be something from his mother’s side of the family, he was sure of it. 
But Luke seemed pleased by the audience’s reaction. He himself would have to ensure this incident never left this room, but at least his son was happy. 
“So yeah, I like walruses. They’re funny looking, and that’s why I chose to tell you about them.” Then, with that said, Luke made a bow, and the audience erupted in far more clapping than had been heard the entire night. Luke straightened, grinned, then ran off stage, his tail and flippers flapping wildly behind him. 
Well. It was certainly the most interesting part of the night, he thought as he clapped for his son. And despite being a walrus, his son was perfect. Just...had some odd interests that he sincerely hoped he grew out of. 
When the show ended, Vader waited uncomfortably by the doors for his children. Plenty of parents and their costumed kids walked by, all giving him a wide berth. He ignored them all, scanning the crowd for his children. He could sense them coming, but for whatever reason, they kept stopping. 
Finally, he saw the small figures of Luke and Leia pushing their way through their crowd, beaming smiles on their faces when they saw him. 
“Daddy!” Leia crowed, and he quickly reached out to place his hands on their shoulders before they could try to hug him. He had grown used to their hugs in private, but they were still learning that it was not permitted in public. “Did you like my play?” 
“You did well.” He confirmed, patting her head, which caused her to make a face and pull away. 
“Don’t mess up my hair.” She muttered. 
Luke had pulled the hood down and his painted face looked up at him. “What about mine, daddy? Lots of people told me they liked it.” He paused, frowning. “Did you?” 
Vader paused, deciding how to phrase it. He did not like that he was parading around in a ridiculous walrus costume, but the whole point of him coming to this ridiculous excuse for a play was to support his children and build their confidence. He could not ruin it by telling his son that he hated the animal he was portraying. “You played your performance well, my son. I am proud of you both.” 
Yes. That seemed safe. And to his satisfaction, the twins beamed up at him. But the moment was ruined when Luke asked, “Can we go to Mon Cala to see the walruses?” 
“Yeah! Let’s go, daddy!” Leia added. 
He paused for a few breaths of the respirator. “Mon Cala...is not safe for humans.” 
Luke frowned. “But my friend said he went, and--” 
“Why don’t I take you to a zoo, instead?” Then maybe Luke would see a different, less embarrassing animal to portray next time. Or maybe he’d lose interest in animals completely. 
Luke considered for a moment, then nodded. “Okay daddy.” He paused. “Can I be a walrus for Trick Or Treat?” 
Again, he paused, trying to come up with an answer that would not hurt his son’s feelings. “Why don’t you wait until after we go to the zoo?” 
Luke also seemed to accept this answer, and Vader took his children's hands in his own, and led them from the theater. 
Vader made sure to give pointed glares at anyone who dared look their way.
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capricornus-rex · 4 years
Text
A Shadow of What You Used to Be (9)
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Chapter 9: His Ward | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker
Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.
Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling
A/N: Hi guys, I’m really sorry for taking so long to post! I’m going through something and it’s taking quite a toll on my emotional health. I can’t brush it off that easily of course, but I’m trying my best to not let it devour me and ruin my routines and habits entirely. I still try to write, but my breakdown episodes are taking too much of my time during the day and I hate for just deciding to sleeping it off—though, it actually helps, plus a good cry. I’m sorry for rambling like this, but I’m not in slump just yet and I hope this situation of mine isn’t gonna drag me into one. I hope you all have been liking the story, if you do, I super duper appreciate it as always! Also, I’ll get back on the tag games you guys have put me in as well! They look super fun!
Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​
Also in AO3
Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist
10 of ?
You are weak…
Incompetent…
Incapable of taking care of a child, what more if two?
An ominous, heavy voice burdened these words to Owen. The man felt paralyzed in his own bed. His knees and elbows locked in place, his calves and arms frozen stiff, and his lungs tight and narrow. He had hoped Beru would be woken up by his squirming and help him out of whatever is happening to him right now.
But his wife was nowhere to be found.
Owen found himself surrounded in darkness, standing in the middle of nowhere and nothing. He feared if this was purgatory. After he had spun a considerable amount of times just to orient himself on where he is and what is going on, the voice took shape—a towering figure armored in black, with his wife and nephew suspended between them while they’re on their knees. Owen could feel his heart sink to the soles of his feet and his legs were failing to hold his balance.
And for that, you shall pay the price of your negligence!
The sharp, ragged ignition of a lightsaber brandished through Beru’s breast and she fell right then and there. There was almost no death cry. Beru was mute as she jolted from the final sensation through her body and slumped to the dust, without waiting for the woman’s corpse to touch the soil, the beam swung sideways to poor, little Luke.
The boy had a death cry, albeit short it was haunting and gut-wrenching, and his cry faded out as he fell to the floor next to his aunt. Owen, in that dream state, was frozen in place. He wasn’t bound to the floor or anything, he was simply incapable of moving. The only thing he can do is watch—as penance imposed by the tall, monstrous figure brandishing a red sword made of light.
“NO!”
Owen sat up screaming and awake. He’s quite lucky they have no neighbors, but the creatures in the desert might have heard him, maybe even old Ben Kenobi in the off-chance that he’s out in the dunes at night.
“Owen!” Beru gasped, woken up by her husband’s nightmarish episode. “Owen, it was a dream!”
“Oh gods!” her husband gasped, clutching his chest so tight that his shirt crumpled. When he realized that it was indeed a dream, he cupped Beru at the neck so tightly that he almost choked her. “Oh, Beru!”
“Owen, dear…” she sighed, unable to comfort her husband.
It’s been only two nights since Irele disappeared, and the toll has already taken her brother.
Irele was brought immediately to the command ship when the transport boarded its hangar. She was thrown into a cell unconscious; hours have passed when she came to. Her body was disturbed by the sudden change in temperature, she was more conditioned for warm, temperate climates. The inorganic, air-conditioned room was an unpleasant surprise for her nerves.
She patted herself in different parts of her body to see where it hurts. Nothing. She was completely unscathed—except, of course, the few light scrapes and bruises she got during her hallucinogenic episode though they were nothing she can’t brush off and heal from.
“Where am I?” she asked to no one in particular.
She looked at the door and saw that it was a solid blast door; the small rectangular window that could only frame the eyes was sealed shut, there was no way of telling if there was someone on the other side of the door.
“Hello?” she knocked on the door, it was worth a shot, she thought.
She said it again, the knocking had gotten louder.
Irritated, the guard outside the cell banged the door with the pommel of his blaster.
“Quiet!” his voice was muffled through the helmet, but the manner of his speaking was sharp and strict. The sudden loud clang startled Irele, forcing her back to the slab that stuck out of the wall that’s meant to be her bed.
She stands up again to walk back to the door, to get some answers from the guard.
“Where am I?” she slapped the door, prompting for answer. “Hey!”
“I SAID SHUT UP!”
“Ugh, you know you’re making the noise twice as worse,” a second guard groaned, though more indifferent towards the prisoner, as well as his companion.
“The little brat won’t shut up.”
“She’ll shut up when Lord Vader comes in,”
“Can’t expect him to come any sooner, can I?”
“Maybe you can turn up in his chambers and tell him yourself,” the second guard chuckled, quite amused by his own snark.
“Yeah, whatever,” the first guard said dryly, completely feeling the opposite.
Overhearing their small talk, Irele picked up the name and tried to familiarize herself with it. Lord Vader? She pondered. But she’s never heard of it. Understandably so, even upon the establishment of the Empire, Tatooine remained uninvolved with the affairs of the now Galactic Empire—as it was in the prime days of the Republic.
Even if the name never rung a bell, she found herself shivering—both by the cold and by the imminent confrontation of this unknown entity that she already fears.
A uniformed crew marches to Darth Vader’s personal chambers. From Vader’s end, the door to his room opened and the cadet let himself in after the Sith Lord allowed him.
“My Lord, the prisoner has come to,”
“Very well. Leave her to me, I’ll deal with her myself,”
“As you wish, my Lord.”
“Go.”
The cadet bowed and his lungs loosened. He had puffed up his chest for a minute or two after leaving the chambers. Darth Vader stood up from his shell and strode regally out of his room; it was not an uncommon sight to find the lord of this ship wandering alone without an escort or two.
Vader made way to the prison block, where the teenage captive would be doing nothing except sit and wait. He isn’t expecting her to recognize him, though he almost wished his did—at least the human part of his being. The door shot open; Irele—seated at the very center of the slab—threw her back flat against the wall. She hasn’t even gotten a good view of Vader and she was already terrified. He had to bow his head before presenting the hulk of his height in his cybernetic body.
Irele’s breathing skipped a rhythm. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, she has never seen anything quite like him. The sound of his breathing made her pupils dilate.
I see him in my nightmares… Irele thought.
Her heart dropped to her stomach when she heard him speak.
“I have been looking for you, child.”
Vader could clearly see that Irele was just utterly petrified. She may not realize it, but their gazes lock—even with the two bulbous globes where his eyes should be obstruct his own—he could clearly see his little sister: his truest next-of-kin. He saw the way her hands latched onto whatever surface it could grab on the metal wall, and goodness did they shake! He remained indifferent—he tried to be.
“W-Where am I?” the poor, shaken girl shuddered.
“That is of no importance.”
“But I’m so far away from home…!” she couldn’t bring herself to raise her voice, only to speak up a bit. “What did I do wrong?”
The dark lord answered none of those questions, but perhaps he could answer the next one.
“Who are you?”
“Your new master. You shall be my ward.”
To Irele, that declaration didn’t sound as ominous as she had hoped; yet, her heart sank when she realized that she’s now bound to this dark lord. In whatever word he paints it to be, she is his prisoner, and she will be here for a very long time. Another pill that’s hard to swallow for her is that she must remain tight-lipped about her family’s whereabouts for the rest of the time she’s here—which is probably forever.
Not realizing she didn’t actively react to this, Darth Vader had been suspended in silence for a few moments.
“You seem unsettled.”
“I don’t know this place. I don’t know you really are, either. The only thing I want right now is to go home. My friends might be looking for me.” She bit her tongue after that last one, keeping mum about her family if ever this lord will hunt them down after the slightest shortcoming.
“This is your new home now… Irele.”
Irele could not accept it. She looked around: nothing in this place is nowhere near to be called home! This is a prison that Vader is desperately convincing the girl to see it as one, to accept it as one.
“It would be wise if you do not object, child. My leniency could only go so far.”
Behind him, the door opened to let inside a black orb with silver apparatus, it hovered into the cell while its internals hummed. The floating globe’s most prominent appendage would be the syringe protruding from its left-hand side; Irele spotted a drop of liquid dangling at the edge of the needle’s tip.
Again, she pressed herself harder against the wall as soon as she caught the glint of the needle under the light of her cell. She tried to scream, but even opening her mouth felt like a laborious feat, so all she could do was taking deep yet short breaths as the droid approached her. The arm with the syringe extended to angle itself better. Vader watched from the far corner of the cell—incapable of helping his sister—and imposing a penance of sorts on himself, to torment him over the fact that even if he had all the means to do so, he is constrained from any sort of humane thing to do to at least ease off the pain from Irele.
The prick of the needle was slow, long, and agonizing. Vader could see Irele’s right arm tensing, shaking uncontrollably, and her hand violently jerking sideways. He saw the liquid leave the syringe and enter Irele’s bloodstreams, but the droid made it sure that it was equally tormenting. Irele tried to fight but the substance had temporarily paralyzed her. She threw her head back, slamming against the wall, and with a great effort she lolled her head to Vader…
A tear escaped from the corner of her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes; her mouth trembled opened to release a grunt that should have been a cry of pain. The look in her face was a plead for mercy or of help—even by a miracle. She looked to the one and only person who could stop this, and there he watched within the blackness of the room, her cry was replied with nothing but Vader’s rhythmic breathing as he stood there and watched. Even with a helmet on, if one could see closely, he was in an irredeemable state of regret for remaining a bystander in Irele’s moment of suffering.
She must learn to live with this… Otherwise, she may not live at all. He reinforced himself, albeit quite a twisted mindset.
The interrogation droid had pulled out the injection. The pinprick drew blood and Irele only had the clothes on her back to clog the bleeding. Weakened by the shock and pain, she melted to the slab and fell unconscious.
He turns to leave the cell, the droid followed, and quickly sealed Irele in. The guards straightened their backs at the sight of their master and awaited his orders. With a raised finger, he commanded them to ready a personal bunker filled with all necessities like new clothes for Irele.
“By the time the substance wears off, see to it that she is brought to the medical bay immediately. I want her in optimum shape if she is to be subjected to training in due time.”
Training? The uniformed men thought.
No questions were actually asked, for Vader strode away back to his chambers, and left the guards to do what is asked of them.
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tigereyes45 · 4 years
Text
As the War Ends
Can be read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603022
________________________________________________________________
Kallus stands at attention as Mon Mothma talks. Her usually short stature made much larger by the war room’s projection holograph system. Zeb was with Hera watching her live. Leaving him alone with the rebels of Lothal. Many had accepted him but there were still a few who clearly felt uneasy around him still. Foolishly Kallus had thought the air of constant tension would disappear after the liberation of Lothal.
Mon Mothma cheers with the invisible crowd as the heroes who stopped the emperor and his right hand man, Darth Vader are gifted medals. Suddenly, collectively, as if they had all been holding their breaths, the room erupts in a joyous encore. All the rebels of Lothal who had just watched silently join in on the celebration. All their years of work paying off, not only for their planet but for the galaxy. The holograph goes out before they could see a medal be placed on the wookie. By that point Kallus was the only person still watching anyways. The room had turned into a whirlpool of bodies. Hands pat his back, as bodies shove past each other for the doors. Holding onto the table in front of him was all Kallus could do to not be swept away in the commotion.
With the room cleared after a few minutes of utter chaos, he could finally breathe. The temperature in the almost empty room plummets as it's many heat sources flee to find other ways and places to celebrate. They deserved it. Kallus pulls out a chair for himself. The Empire was defeated. The force he had spent so much of his life serving was gone. It would be difficult for the foot soldiers to recover from it's lost. The many people who had never really known a life before the empire would be lost for a time. Just as he had been when he left. Many of them would be arrested and charge as they should be. Only a few would get off easy. Even the ones that did wouldn't be as lucky as him. If he hadn't ended up on that moon with Zeb his life would be very different.The ringing of his comm terminal brings his wandering mind to a halt. Looking down at his wrist, a small holograph of Zeb's face hovers right above it. The lasat had a talent for reaching out at just the right moment. On the moon, catching many of his secret messages as fulcrum, his defection, and far more when they were on Yavin 4. At one point Kallus entertained the idea that Zeb was force-sensitive once. A connection that allowed him to just know when he needed to hear his voice. Of course he wasn't. If he had been Kanan would have been able to sense it. Which meant that it was luck, and perhaps a basis of understanding that results in his fortunate timing.
Kallus pushes past his hesitation and answers. When his figure appears Garazeb was looking at something behind him. Cheers and fireworks sound off from his side. They were muted comparatively to the shouts coming from down the hall. Undoubtedly they were louder around him. He hadn't even noticed that Kallus had answered yet. A brown furry hand clasps Zeb's shoulder. It shakes him gently. Casually it gestures towards Kallus before disappearing back out of view. Zeb's ears stand high as he looks surprisingly at him. He smiles back at the shocked man. He looks as if it had been Kallus who called him.
"Kallus!" Even the fur on his ears was standing up.
"Hello Zeb. How is the celebration?"
"It's goin' fine." Rubbing the back of his neck, Zeb looks down towards the ground. The static-y blue holograph fitz out for a moment. "How is the kid doing?"
Kallus smiles warmly. It wasn't often that Zeb was nervous. "He's fine. Fell asleep about an hour ago. I have my communicator tuned into his room so that I'll hear him the moment he wakes up." He makes a big show of looking around the room. "Actually the partying just started over here. The noise could wake him up any moment.  I should probably go."
"Wait!" Adorably Zeb reaches out as if he could stop him with his hand. Kallus tries not to laugh as he quickly retracts his arm. Zeb folds them back over his chest. He puts on a determined expression. Kallus leans back in his chair. The smug smile never leaving his face as he leans back. Zeb keeps his glare on something in the distance that he can't see.
"With the war ending and all I figured," He cuts himself off with a sigh. "Hera and Lothal won't need us around as much once the dust settles." Kallus nods in agreement. The next couple of months would be chaotic. Afterwards the two of them would be hard pressed to find work to keep them busy. There wouldn't be much need for an ex-imperial officer, and a lasat guard on Lothal.  If Hera and Sabine left then Zeb would probably go with them. Would he? There was still the search for Ezra, but it wasn't his place to invite himself.  He could wait. Waiting not hard, it's just the not knowing that's difficult.
"There's a place I want to take you." The words are blurted out in a rush. Kallus would have assumed Zeb was drunk with the way he was running his words together.  But he wasn't. Not only had he been speaking perfectly clear before, but Zeb had a bad habit of leaning back whenever he was drunk. A habit he picked up from trying to keep himself from falling over when drunk. All it managed was to assure he would just fall backwards instead, but Zeb was folding inwards. His hand was scratching the back of his neck, and his eyes had avoided him up until now. This wasn't a drunk Garazeb. This was a nervous one.
The lists of possible jobs he was complying in his head stops. A familiar heat rises in his face. He had resigned himself to waiting. Kanan had been kind once to take him in, but truly he didn't expect it twice. Even though he and Zeb had grown quite close.
"Where?" His voice was quiet. Far too quiet to really be heard over the cheers. Somehow Zeb manages despite that.
"It's a surprised. Someplace important." Zeb stops talking and leans a little closer to his comm device. Did he really expect a no? Well if their roles were reversed Kallus would ask expecting a no as well. When his answer doesn't come immediately Zeb adds, "Important to both of us." He start waving his hands around. "But you can't ask where it is, or look at the maps until after we get there. It has to be a surprised."
Kallus sighs deeply, pretending to be annoyed rather than moved. "Zeb if this is a plan to go back to that moon I'd rather not."
"It's not." He doesn't try making a joke. There's no quipping line in solidarity over their disdain for that place. In fact he was leaning even closer now. His face was stern and nervous. The two emotions constantly fighting in the way his cheeks were, or how his lips curled.
Kallus sits up straight. Slowly he brings the holograph closer to his face. "I'll pack my things."
"Really?" Zeb sounds incredulous. "You would just come?"
"Well if you lot were going to kill me you would have done it by now. Should we tell Hera that she'll need to find another set of babysitters?"
Zeb's face slowly shifts from the surprised expression he had been so fond of tonight to a genuine smile.  His body slowly starts to shake as he nods. "Yeah, yeah. Yeah! I'll tell her. She knew I was asking you anyways! Sabine could still help out, and we can come back. I'll have to tell her too." His excitement was contagious. Kallus channels his nerves into his legs. They quickly start to bounce erratically as he watches Zeb loudly cheer on the other side. A group joins in his cheering from his side. "I didn't expect you to just say yes!"
"Then don't make me regret this." He was joking but Zeb just kept nodding. He balls his fists up and smirks.
"You won't. See you soon. I'm gonna go get Hera now. We'll be right back!" With that the holograph cuts off.
"Didn't even give me a chance to reply."
Kallus leans back in his chair. Resting his feet up on the table his muscles start to relax. Tonight was a very good night indeed. He still wasn't going to go out and celebrate with the rest of the base. He had to get back to Jacen after all. Now there was packing to do too. His mind wanders as he leaves the control room. The halls were filled with small groupings of people here and there. All enjoying the hard-won victory. What place could possibly be important to both of them? There was the moon. Most of the ships they had been on together have been blown to bits. Not that he would have to pack if they were just visiting a ship. No it had to be a planet, but which? He dwells on the question for the rest of the way. His mind only returning to the moment as he opens his bedroom door to find a young Jacen sitting quietly on his bed. With a smile the child had been patiently waiting for his return. How he managed to not set off the motion detectors or noise monitors Kallus chucks up to the fact that he was probably at least partially force-sensitive like his father.
"Are you hungry Jacen?" The child eagerly nods.
Kallus steps off to the side and holds his arms out. "Let's go get some food then." Instead of running out the room past him, Jacen stops at his legs and holds his arms up. Kallus smiles and picks him up. "I have it on good authority that your momma's coming back tonight." He cheers throwing his arms up. Kallus readjusts him on his hip. He had already had dinner, but a snack as they wait should be fine.
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brieannakeogh · 5 years
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Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Chapter 8
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Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Kylo Ren x plus sized reader. Crack! Fic. You’re a new First Order recruit. Trained in the culinary arts at the top schools and they dare make you serve the common folk. What happens when you have the opportunity to serve Lord Ren?
Master List / Previous Chapter
This is super short but pretty intense. Hopefully I can break the cannon soon. 
Chapter 8
It took less than a week to find out he had located the ex-storm trooper and the droid. Of course he said it in a side intention to you, just to tell you he didn’t need lunch that afternoon since he would be down on a planet doing some capturing. The smirk on him growing wider when you thought about how he even beat your time frame. 
This time you didn’t have to go with him since it was going to be a short run. There were also going to be a lot of rebels and scam people in that part of the world. You could guess there would be a lot of fighting, but you could already know that he would succeed. He was Kylo Ren, the most powerful force user there was. 
What you couldn’t guess was that he would kidnap a girl. A pretty girl. A girl you watched get carried by Ren off the local turbo ship. A girl you thought of as you made a gruel for Kylo to eat. 
“I’m about to go do some torturing to the useless one locked up.” He said as you set the bowel in front of him. A grunt is all he got from you before you did the normal bow and turn to walk out. “Would you like to watch?” His spoon lifting up as he watches the sludge drop back into the bowel. 
“What time is that?” You refused to turn back to him, just watching as the door didn’t open. 
“After the new dinner you bring me, before I switch you in her place.” 
“Give me 20-30 minutes and I’ll be right back.” A similar grunt, like you have given him, came before the door opened. 
Another meal later, after he eats, he leads you to the room holding her. She was attached to a metal back supported by cuffs on her ankles and wrists. If it was in a different location, with wider leg attachments, you would think it was kinky. He pushed you into a different room, that had a visual and sound contraption for the room she was in. The officers that were there got booted from him so you were alone. 
Watching him interact with her, Rey apparently, was satisfying and worrying. You completely agreed with her comment on the mask, but you were surprised when he actually removed it. Her face had the same reaction as yours did when he became ‘Hot Ren’ not just ‘Lord Ren’. His interrogation was a lot calmer than you would have thought. Pure confidence, without worry, at least until he was reading about someone she treats like a father. You could tell that was upsetting to him. 
What shocked you completely is when she started using force to push him out and somehow go past his defenses. Your gasp and brain waves were apparently loud enough to him that he glanced at the security camera before he concentrated harder and made his stance more steady. Unfortunately, it was too late or it didn’t work. She was able to invade his mind and told you what the fear on his face was saying. “You’re afraid you won’t be as strong as Darth Vader!” 
He suddenly backed away and his eyes glanced back to the camera before everything goes black. No video, no sound, not even the lights working. He blocked you off, which had you worrying immensely. Not about yourself but for him. You felt it in your gut. He drove you out to keep you from seeing his failure, to keep you from thinking he’s been cocky with his powers. That wasn’t the case. You wanted to find him, help him. Maybe slap the bitch and do a little traditional torture to her. 
The bad thing is you don’t know which room she is in. The place that he took you was a few turns in the hallways and your directional skills were shit. You rushed out, trying to find the correct spot but each prison door looked exactly the same. Finally you could hear his boots on the floor. His gate was so obvious to you now that you could tell him the difference from the other members. Making a rush for him, a couple of guards grabbed you. Even when you showed your clearance card they wouldn’t let you go past them to an area. It was apparently higher up than you were.  
The rage you had for that girl was competing with the rage you took out of Carol the Stump. You rush back to try and find her, treat her the way she deserves, but you are too late. There is a door open that was closed before and you find Kylo’s mask still sitting ashes. Lifting it up, you brush off all the excess and dirt. Treating it like you would his face if you could. That’s when he marches through the door. 
“Where is she?! What the fuck did you do?” He screams as he rips his mask from your fingers. 
“I did nothing! The door was open when I came past looking for you. I just thought you had taken her with you instead of letting me see what you were doing.” He clenches his jaw before he closes his eyes to calm himself. You can tell he’s using the force to get a sensation from the people in the building. 
His jaw clenches once more before he throws the mask back on. “Go back to your room.” 
“But I can help you!” 
His arm reaches out and your body hits the back wall. The breath in your lungs goes out and another wave of oxygen won’t come in with the pressure to your throat. You think you need to try sending your own pain and emotion for him to pick up on but the hold to your body lasts barely a second, before you’re dropped to the ground. The gasping and coughing your body does on its knees is not a pretty sight. Trying to get back to breathing and struggling to get up, you miss him taking a single step to you, miss the fist he makes with the hand he hurt you by. You don’t miss the sound of the door closing, leaving you alone in the room behind. 
Next Chapter
As I said intense. It will be a while for the next chapter as I hadn’t even gotten anything down yet. Thank you all so much and I add two new people on the tag list!
@stevieang​, @albinotigerpython​, @paintballkid711​, @lilypalmer1987​, @tnupsweetpie​, @ebonyqueen-1​, @mbaku-babygirl​, @grandloser​, @lovedoneright​, @sincereleygmg​
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kaelinaloveslomaris · 5 years
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Whumptober 20: Trembling
Luke almost drowns. Vader comforts.
This is an old piece I just finished up for this. And yes, I know Vader could have just used the Force, but we want the Drama™.
It was bad enough being stranded on a desolate planet with no one but his fa – Darth Vader for company, but did it have to be an ice planet? Luke’s flight suit, while insulated for the chill of space, was not quite enough to ward off the cold, and he shivered as he kept a stubborn distance between himself and Vader. At least it wasn’t as cold as Hoth, and though it was snowing, it wasn’t a blizzard, and there was no wind.
The snow crunched under his feet as he trudged forward. Though much of the snow was hard packed, there was a thick layer of loose, recently accumulated snow on top that made walking difficult. It was almost impossible to move quickly, and Luke was trying very hard to push away unpleasant memories of struggling to get away from the wampa’s cave on Hoth.
He glanced over at Vader, who was to his left and several feet ahead. He didn’t seem to be having trouble, but then his legs were quite a bit longer than Luke’s. And even though it would be easier and more efficient, Luke refused to follow behind the Sith in the trail he was forging through the drifts, no matter how many times Vader told him to. It was petty, and he knew it, but he still wasn’t sure how to feel about the recent… parental revelation, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Vader help him in any way. Following him would imply that Luke had surrendered somehow, and he didn’t want to give that impression. He had only stayed with Vader after the crash because it was more practical, and he didn’t want to spend the whole time he was trying to get off the planet also running from Vader.
Vader stopped and turned around to look at him for what was probably the hundredth time. “You would not fall so far behind if you would – ”
“Not… happening…” Luke panted. He ignored the disapproving tilt to Vader’s helmet and the ache in his own legs that he could somehow feel through the cold numbness.
“You are a foolish child,” Vader said as Luke finally drew even with the waiting Sith Lord.
Luke didn’t stop, even though he would love a chance to catch his breath. He didn’t want to show weakness, and maybe if he just kept moving he could somehow outdistance Vader, find some sort of civilization or at least somewhere he could hole up safely and fix his busted comlink, anything that didn’t involve freezing to death or being captured by the Empire. But even though he tried to keep his hopes high and ignore the inevitability, he knew, somewhere deep in his bones with a certainty that rang in the Force, that he would be leaving the planet with Vader. It terrified him, even though he was pretty sure that he was not intended for execution.
“I’m not a child.” He could almost feel Vader’s raised eyebrow at his back.
“Then you are a foolish adult,” Vader said. Luke gritted his teeth. That was worse, and he could hear the note of superiority in Vader’s voice as he said it.
“Fine. I walked into that one. If I admit I’m a foolish child, will you let me go once we reach a town or something?” The planet was technically unsettled, in that it had no real government or infrastructure, but he knew there were a few scattered colonies, and they would probably have equipment he could use to contact someone.
Vader was silent except for his heavy footsteps, which had resumed once he realized that Luke was actually gaining some distance between them. He caught up quickly, and Luke froze when Vader’s large hands settled on his shoulders. His instincts were screaming to duck away, turn, scramble back, anything to break the contact and get the Sith back into his sight and not directly behind him, but he was immobilized somehow, and Vader’s next words didn’t help matters.
“No, my son. You are done running from me. It is time for you to come home.” One of Vader’s thumbs rubbed against his shoulder blade, with just enough pressure for him to feel through the fabric of his flight suit, and he pretended that he couldn’t hear the longing wistfulness in Vader’s voice.
“I don’t have a home anymore,” Luke whispered, blinking away images of the burning farm and his aunt and uncle’s bodies.
“You do,” Vader insisted. “I am your father, and your place is with me.”
“A cell on your Star Destroyer isn’t a home,” Luke snapped, finally shaking Vader’s hands off his shoulders and turning to face him. He glared at the Sith, arms crossed over his chest.
Vader’s hands dropped back down to his sides. “You would not be kept in a cell, my son. I have rooms prepared for you – ”
“Not interested.” He turned again and continued trudging through the snow. He heard Vader begin to follow again after a moment. His father’s presence was tinged with disappointment, and for a moment Luke almost felt bad for shutting his offer down so harshly. But father or no, he was still Darth Vader, still the right hand of the Emperor. He couldn’t just… go with him.
Luke wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, too engrossed in his thoughts, so when the ground suddenly fell away, he lost his footing and tumbled down the slope.
“Luke!” Vader yelled, and Luke heard the panic in his voice.
“I think I’m okay,” he called back, the worry he could feel from his father enough to convince Luke to reassure him. It had been a short drop, the hill steep enough that he rolled all the way to the bottom, but not so much that he simply fell straight down.
He was currently on his back, so he rolled over and started to stand, but the ground beneath him protested, and Luke froze as he realized he was sitting on ice. Ice that groaned with every little movement he made.
“Luke. Do. Not. Move.”
He risked turning his head enough to see Vader standing at the top of the incline. His father’s fear sang clearly in the Force, and Luke tried unsuccessfully to push his own away. There hadn’t been ice like this on Hoth. He didn’t know how to safely get off it, and any rational thoughts he might have had fled in the face of one of his worst fears. He knew how to survive in the scorching heat of twin suns, how to identify changes in air pressure that signified a coming sandstorm, how to tell if sand was stable or if it would shift away under your feet and bury you. He wasn’t afraid of heat or sand or even of the flash of green lasers far too close in the vacuum of space, but water, which should mean life, had meant life until he left Tatooine and encountered far too much of it in one place, scared him more than he had ever thought possible. Something so necessary to life shouldn’t be able to take it away so easily.
“Help,” he pleaded, his irrational, he knew, panic drowning out any embarrassment he might have felt at begging for help from Vader.
“Luke, lay down,” Vader instructed. “Move slowly, keep your weight distributed over as large an area as you can.”
Luke shifted, and the ice creaked again, louder this time.
“I can’t,” he gasped. The ice was going to break, and he was going to fall through. He could swim, sort of. Han had taught him once, shortly after Yavin, when they’d stopped on a planet with nearby lakes, but he couldn’t swim well, and he knew the cold would paralyze him. He’d get sucked under the ice and drown –
“Yes, you can.” Vader’s commanding voice broke through his panicky thoughts. “You must.”
“The ice is going to break – ”
“I will not let you drown, Luke. Move slowly.”
Agonizingly slowly, Luke rolled back over so he was on his stomach. He paused each time the ice beneath him made a sound, his breath catching, but the ice held despite his fears. He glanced up to see that Vader had made his way down the slope and was now standing at the edge of the frozen lake, several arm’s lengths away.
“Now what?” he asked.
Vader crouched down and held a hand out to Luke. “Spread your arms and legs out to distribute your weight, then crawl towards me. Slowly.”
The ice was slippery, but Luke managed to get enough of a grip between his boots and his gloves to inch closer to shore and his father’s outstretched hand. He didn’t know how long it took, counting time by the ominous snaps and groans from the ice instead of seconds or minutes, but eventually he was able to reach out and grab his father’s hand. Vader pulled him closer until he was able to hook his other arm around Luke’s waist and haul him onto solid ground. Luke scrambled away from the edge, and Vader caught him, clutching Luke to him tightly as they kneeled in the snow.
“You are safe,” he said, and it seemed to be only partially meant for Luke, the rest as reassurance to himself. “You are safe.”
Luke clung to him, working his arms free of Vader’s suffocating embrace so he could wrap them around Vader’s neck. His breath fogged up the shiny plastisteel of his father’s helmet, and he fought to control his ragged gasping. His father’s artificial breathing rumbled through Luke’s body, pressed against Vader as he was, and he focused on the steady rhythm of it, working to match his own to it. It took a few minutes, and Vader’s patience prevented Luke from feeling embarrassed about it. At some point, Luke hadn’t noticed when, Vader had begun gently stroking his back. It was soothing and comforting, and it helped him to finally calm down.
“Thank you,” Luke murmured. He had never thought he’d be thanking Vader of all people. But clearly there was some part of his father that still cared about him, despite everything he had done to him. It made him feel a little bit better about the fact that he knew he would be leaving the planet with him.
Maybe, just maybe, his father did want him as a son after all.
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ghostsofmemories · 4 years
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Ocean in the Woods - Update #2
So, if you missed the first update or want a quick refresher (because it’s been over 3 months... wow), here’s the first update, which has a link to the WIP intro if you want to check that out.
Progress has been very slow, but hopefully now that I’m not in such a rut with a million things to do, it’ll move a little bit faster (no promises, though).
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So basically, chapters 2, 3, and 4 are complete and I’ve worked my way up to 10k. It’s a little disappointing considering my original goal was 20k by the end of June and we’re already a few days into July and I only got halfway there, but I already knew that goal wasn’t realistic.
Chapter 2 is called Side Affects of Burnout and is sort of a bonding chapter between Arthur and his younger brother, Aiden. I like this chapter well enough, but I think I put this too early in the story and didn’t do enough to drive home the fact that Aiden and Arthur have a strained relationship before having them bond. However, I’m not all that worried about fixing that because no one is ever going to read this book. I was considering putting it on Wattpad in the beginning, but I’m actually perfectly content with, uh, not doing that. 
With that said, here are some fun little excerpts from Side Affects of Burnout, featuring Lance’s intro to the plot (not very many of the excerpts are well-written, I kind of gave up on editing as I went a couple weeks ago and have some passes to do before I keep going):
I had Lance in my first period, and I knew he wouldn’t notice that something was off with me. Usually, he was pretty oblivious to the rest of the world (in a very well-intentioned way) unless someone told him something was going on. He was the odd one out in our group of friends: the only one who checked the typical boxes. Cis, straight, and white. The rest of us were oddballs in school, but Lance was the oddball in our hearts.
He was folding paper airplanes out of post-it notes when I walked into the classroom. His hair was sandy blonde, uncombed, and he was wearing cargo shorts with a Darth Vader t-shirt. I was almost positive he had seen a maximum of two Star Wars movies.
“Hey,” he said, “what’s up?”
“The usual,” I said. “Sky. Clouds. Trees.” I sat in my chair next to him. Mr. Nelson didn’t assign seats, but everyone always sat in the same place. We were drawn to routine.
“That’s good,” he said, nodding, “if the sky is still up, then the world’s doing alright.”
I started out the story with Lance being somewhat of a comic relief, but I think I’m already beginning to feel some tension building up in regards to everyone labeling him as oblivious and stupid. He’s really sweet and I think he notices a lot, but just doesn’t say much about it. Here’s another section where everyone quips at Lance for being a himbo:
“Afternoon, lady and gent,” he said, sitting across from Maya and nodding at each of us respectively.
“It’s actually 11:30am,” Maya said, stealing another fry from my plate. “Labels and time in general are useless if you refuse to use them correctly.”
“Smartass,” Lance said through a bite of his sandwich. “I was just trying to be nice.”
“And I was just trying to spare you the humiliation of realizing you were wrong on your own,” she said. She started bouncing her leg after she was done stealing my fries, not knowing how to do nothing.
“He wouldn’t’ve realized on his own, Maya,” Ollie said, setting their tray down across the table from mine. “He doesn’t wear a watch or check the time.”
Vanessa, as usual, wasn’t far behind. “Lance, can you even read the time?” She was joking, of course. We always joked with Lance that way.
“Of course I can,” he said, sitting up straighter, “I just choose not to.”
And now, some of the Big Sad with Aiden and Arthur:
But the silence wasn’t horrible. I didn’t ask him to give back the water bottle I’d handed him, and I didn’t ask him why he’d been crying, and I didn’t ask him how he was tired enough to fall asleep sitting up (I also didn’t ask him to move when his head ended up on my shoulder). I wanted to be a good brother. I didn’t always need to know the details.
I love them so much and I’m kind of desperate to explore their relationship more, but so far all this book is teaching me is that I do not know how to manage all these subplots alongside the major plot of killing a monster. I’m pretty sure this’ll be the last fantasy book I ever write. Here’s a snippet of a one-sided conversation while the boys are waiting for water to boil so they can make mac n cheese.
“Hey, you can talk to me,” I said, trying to be gentle and quiet without letting my voice get pitchy. He didn’t look up, but he nodded again, his face lost in his sweater sleeves.
It was different, seeing him like this. I was so used to the Aiden that was always either smiling or sarcastic. I probably hadn’t seen him sad since he was a little kid, scraping his knees on the driveway and losing the watch he got for Christmas. He would breathe fast and panicky back then, when something went wrong. Now his breathing was slow and controlled, albeit shaky.
So yeah. At the end of this chapter, Aiden sees a girl out the window (who is Ocean, but he doesn’t know it yet) and he goes to talk to her and bring her water, and we move on to Chapter 3: River Runner. In which Ocean basically guilt trips Arthur into helping her fight the monster she brought there.
“I wasn’t mad about you not understanding my problems,” she said, standing up to follow me. I ignored her and kept walking. “I was mad at you for just sitting there and not knowing what to do besides ask stupid questions. I’m mad because you know there’s something wrong and you don’t care.”
“Why should I care?” I asked, walking faster. She would follow me all the way back to my house if she wanted to. “I don’t even know what’s going on. I don’t know you and I don’t care, so handle this on your own.”
“I don’t know how to do it on my own!” she shouted, cutting around a tree and walking beside me. “I don’t exactly dedicate my life to putting myself in danger and fighting evil creatures and saving the world.”
“So why do you expect me to do it at a ten minute’s notice?”
“You’re impossible.”
“All of this,” I said between my teeth, stopping in my tracks and closing my eyes, “is impossible. You—I was never supposed to meet you. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.”
“Well it did. And there’s no taking it back now,” she said, stepping toward me. I opened my eyes, then. She was right about my height, maybe a little bit taller than me. “There is no supposed to. There’s only did and didn’t, do and don’t. And you have to decide which one you’re going with, because there is a right answer. And if you choose the wrong one, I’ll find someone else. You’ll be the boy who did nothing.”
I didn’t like how she could twist words and use them to make me do things. I didn’t want to help, but I didn’t want to do nothing.
“Fine, then.”
Pretty much all of River Runner is these two idiots yelling at each other, minus the part where Ocean is trying to open a portal. I won’t be putting an excerpt of that because it’s still extremely messy and that scene needs to be rewritten.
I only just started Chapter 5: Her and the Sun, but I’m liking it so far. There’s a lot of Maya in this chapter, including another mini description of her. Maya might be my favorite character in the book, honestly. I’ll leave it to Arthur to explain why.
She was crazy in the best way a person can be, I think. Where my mom would call me a little over the place, Maya would be in a thousand places at once. She was everything and everywhere and she could be everyone, too, if she could be.
For almost as long as I could remember, Maya and I were partners in crime. She led us into dozens of disasters and got us out of each one, too. Like when she helped me shave my head after I told her I was trans (but before I told anyone else) and told my parents there was a huge wad of gum in my hair.
“Trust me,” she told my dad, fourteen with huge eyes and hair that could compete in size with anyone else’s in the neighborhood, “my sister tried to fix it and this is a huge improvement.”
Maya’s sister is a hairdresser, at the time, but she had no idea what we were up to. Maya was just so convincing that no one bothered to check in with anyone else.
So, that’s pretty much it. Not my greatest writing, but at this point any words are good words, you know?
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griff-man · 4 years
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Okay, so this is just how I feel the 7th episode of Star Wars could be improved. If you all enjoy it I'll do the others in the Disney Trilogy. And I am open to constructive criticism and discussion, this is all in good fun.
So first of all, I want to say I think the actors did a decent job with what they were given, it was the writing that needed work and the cast shouldn't have been dogged like they were. Most of the Force Awakens can actually be salvaged with just a few scene changes, especially towards the end. And though it should be obvious by the title, and you probably already saw it let me say SPOILER WARNING.
So the beginning of the movie goes as is and the first change I would make is when Kylo Ren is informed of Finn, Rey, and BBs escape from Jakku. Instead of throwing a hissy fit and destroying that computer, he uses his light saber to cut off both of the officers arms after he was told that a girl helped Finn and BB escape. He then lifts the officer with the force and says "what girl", the officer replies "we don't know yet", and Kylo uses the force to snap his neck so that the officer's head is completely turned around. He then yells at another officer to find out what happened and to have this mess cleaned up. The scene then transitions to the Millennium Falcon as it did originally. This scene change makes Kylo Ren's character seem more like an actual threat rather then a whiney child, and I think it makes him much more intimidating. After all, he is supposed to be one of the big bad guys of this trilogy.
The next scene change takes place at Maz's bar, when Finn admits to Rey that he was a Storm trooper and then leaves to join those cargo pilots. Rey would still have those visions, and Maz would still give her speech, but toward the end of it Maz would then make a remark to Rey along the lines of "don't worry, he would return when she needed him, and he'll know when that is". A subtle remark, but important for later. Then we have all those planets destroyed, and the the first order invades like before. The only difference is that when Finn starts fighting the "Traitor" Storm trooper, he's not so easily beaten and actually is pretty decent with the light saber making the storm trooper stagger back and go on the defensive a time or two. So he's not an expert but someone who obviously has potential, as if holding the weapon felt natural. He still needs to get saved by Han and Chewy, but its not so one sided. The fight continues like in the movie, but instead of just seeing Kylo kidnapp Rey, Finn gets this look, like he can feel something is wrong, and looks around. That is when he see's Kylo leave with Rey, and we see him run after them and shout her name.
We then skip ahead to Rey's interrogation by Kylo Ren. The big change here is he doesn't remove his helmet. If we're expected to take him as a true Sith Lord, we cant have him so easily persuaded to show his face. That comes later. And everything sort of plays out the same with Rey resisting and escaping with the force (except she doesn't get the storm trooper's blaster) up until we get to Kylo discovering her escape. Instead of destroying the room with his light saber he uses the force while screaming in rage, like the whole room crumples up like like a wad of paper around him while all the computers short circuit and explode. The Storm Troopers turning the corner still see the destruction and turn right around. Once again everything plays like in the movie, with the exception of Finn giving Rey the Light Saber since he has a blaster and she's unarmed. Then we get to when Han is confronting Kylo Ren on that walkway. Han would still tell him to remove the helmet, and he does. This is when we finally see his face and it makes his face reveal much more dramatic. The scene plays out, but now when Kylo kills Han we see his eyes turn that yellowish red color of the Sith. This is to signify that he's no longer conflicted in his beliefs and fully devoted to the Dark Side. Rey still shouts no, and Chewy still shoots Kylo only he's more notably wounded when he's hit.
This time, when the confrontation with Kylo against Rey and Finn happens Rey is the one with the light saber. Finn would be the one force pushed into a tree by Kylo and Rey would activate the saber and charge into battle. Kylo's dialog about the light saber being his would be the same. So Rey and Kylo are dueling and Rey isn't as good as Finn was, but due to Kylo's injury she's holding her own for the most part but is still at a clear disadvantage. We then get to the part where Kylo has her pinned against the tree and is using his saber exhaust port to cut into her. She suddenly uses the force to push him away and make some distance, surprising herself in the process, while Finn starts waking up. Kylo gets right back into the battle and Rey gets that hit in on his arm, right before he's able to knock her saber out of her grasp by twirling thier sabers. This action knocks Rey to the ground, and Kylo approaches her with his Saber raised ready to end it. That's when Finn raises his arm and shouts out "NOOOO". You see, Rey and Finn's saber was knocked in the opposite direction of Finn, with Kylo and Rey in-between. We already saw the force awaken in Rey, well now we see it awaken in Finn as the saber flys towards him, activating as it passes Kylo. Only his training and reflexes keep him from loosing his head, instead it grazes his face cutting off part of his lower jaw and scarring up part of his face. The Saber goes in to Finn's hands, who looks at it amazed. Rey looks at him with a sort of surprised "you too" look. But now Kylo is really mad, and goes for Finn. The fight is back on, but Rey is backing him up with Finn's forgotten blaster. Despite the team up, and Kylo being injured the fight is still evenly matched with Kylo having a slight advantage. This is to show his obvious greater skill with the force given his years of training. Like, its obvious if you really look that if he was uninjured from Chewy in the start and then from Finn and Rey's attacks, he would be absolutely dominating the two of them.
Then Kylo gets an advantage over Finn, slicing his back and throwing him to the ground on his now injured back. He then has him on the ground with his light saber at his throat, boot holding down his hand with the saber in it. He looks at Rey and says the line about being her teacher in the ways of the force. Rey, like in the movie, realizes she could possibly use the force again, and uses it to push Kylo off of Finn and to bring the saber to her. We have the clash between the two of them. She manages to cut off his hand (instead of cutting his face like in the movie, since Finn already did), and pushes him back into a tree with the force. The big ravine opens between them again, only its much bigger so Kylo couldn't force jump it, even if he was still fighting fit. They look at each other, Kylo's face mangled and bleeding as his eyes burn with hatred. Rey with a look that's determined but just a bit nervous. She then runs back to Finn and grabs him, both getting off the planet just like in the movie, as everything else that was going on took place the same way. Kylo meanwhile looks at his bleeding nub, and though you can tell by the look on his face that he doesn't want to, we see him start to head back to base so he can escape.
We get back to the Rebel base, Finn is injured but awake, and R2D2 has revealed the location of Luke Skywalker with BB's help. Since Finn was shown to also be force sensitive he of course goes with Rey and Chewbacca to find Luke. They get to the planet that was on the map, and hike up the mountain where Luke is. Finn is using a crutch and Rey's helping him since he is still slightly injured, but on the mend. They get almost to the top of the mountain, on to a plateau but Luke isn't just staring off into the horizon. Instead they find him meditating with his legs crossed, floating 5 feet in the air with the force, his back to the mountain under a cliff and eyes closed. Finn and Rey slowly approach, as Luke slowly lowers until he is sitting on the ground. Then, he opens his eyes, and Rey pulls out the light saber and holds it out toward him. The camera zooms out. The classic star wars music plays the whole time like in the movie.
Finally, we transition to Hux seated behind a Storm trooper who is piloting a craft like the one Kylo had at the beginning of the movie toward where ever Snoke is. In the back, behind a closed door we see Kylo Ren being treated by a human doctor and a med droid while in some kind of healing pod. He seems unconscience, and the camera zooms onto his mutilated face. Suddenly, we hear the deep voice of Darth Vader say "you have much yet to learn" in side Kylo's head, and his fiery red eyes snap open. Then credits.
Whooa, that took a while to write. Especially since I was watching the Force Awakens again at the same time. So that is how I'd improve Episode 7, and I know that only a few scenes were changed, but that's because I still mostly liked the movie. It's the next two that needed MAJOR overhauling, but I needed to adjust this one for the changes in the Last Jedi to happen. And I know that Snoke and Kylo aren't exactly Sith in this trilogy, but instead another type of Dark Force users, but I used Sith for a reason. Sorry if you guys expected everything written out like a screen play or a story, but I'm just not that good a writer. I have these big general ideas, but am really not good at the small details and dialog. Nor am I good at art, which is too bad caused I'd love to see these scenes drawn out. So tell me what you think, did you enjoy it? What changes would you make? Should I go ahead and share my ideas for the Last Jedi?
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big-chaengus · 5 years
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Hybrids!Yeojin and Olivia Hye getting left alone together play-fighting roughly while Haseul and Sooyoung are gone. When Haseul and Sooyoung get back, they find a Yeojin crying with scratch marks on her face and a Hyejoo trying to calm her down with tear tracks on her face
on this particular day, the unnies of the house decided it was a family bonding day. that usually meant going out and doing some fun activity while hyejoo sits off to the side and grumbles about having to go out. however, today sooyoung decided that she wouldn’t force hyejoo to come since she had been so good lately, making an effort to be at least a little nicer to yeojin. of course this meant that yeojin wanted to stay home with her new best friend. the two were allowed to stay home alone if they promised to behave. (they promised but crossed their fingers behind their backs)
as soon as everyone was out of the house, there was a war cry from yeojin as she came tearing through the door of hyejoo’s room that she shared with yerim and chaewon. hyejoo was of course ready for her new friend, wearing the darth vader helmet that sooyoung got for her. yeojin tackled hyejoo to the best of her ability while being significantly smaller and weaker - that is to say that hyejoo barely moved and yeojin slammed into what was basically a brick wall. this was no problem for these two, they were quite used to playing rough. don’t tell sooyoung, but hyejoo mostly just uses this helmet to defend against yeojin trying to bite her nose.
“i’m going to surprise you one of these days, you big oaf!” backing away from her wolfy friend, yeojin gave her the ‘i’m watching you’ signal. hyejoo just rolled her eyes and settled back down to wait for the next “ambush’’.
after quite a while without hearing from the kitty, hyejoo finally relaxed, assuming she was done for now. she decided she could get away with a short nap if she slept lightly, so that’s what she did.
yeojin of course had been waiting for her friend’s guard to go down so she could finally ambush her like she’d been trying to for days now. her ears swiveled on her head as she listened for any activity from hyejoo’s room, but she was only picking up on steady breathing. as she made her way into the room, yeojin actually acted like a cat for once - being quiet and light on her feet. she couldn’t help but grin as she got ready to pounce.
hyejoo was sleeping peacefully when she felt someone grab at her ears. she jolted awake and threw a hand out toward her attacker on instinct, her fingers curled to catch them with her nails. she made contact in her panicked sleepy haze but was pulled out of her instictual response by a loud yelp and a mewl. as she shook off sleep, hyejoo saw yeojin holding a hand against her cheek, with tears just barely escaping the corners of her closed eyes. hyejoo immediately got up and tried to pull her friend’s hand away from her face so she could see.
“yeojinnie, i’m sorry please let me see so i can help you,” hyejoo was getting more and more upset the more the kitten resisted her help “please, yeojin.” she croaks out another plea as she finally allows tears to fall.
as antagonistic their relationship was, they never actually wanted to hurt each other, it was all just rough playing. but as hyejoo watched her new friend blink away her tears and look at the little bit of blood on her hand she felt like she had ruined it. the unnies were going to be so mad.
right as that thought crossed hyejoo’s mind, she heard the door to the house open downstairs. yeojin was wiping her tears away, seeming to have gotten over it pretty quickly, but hyejoo only panicked more at the thought of her unnies getting mad. what if sooyoung didn’t want to take care of her anymore?
as soon as they walked into the house, haseul and sooyoung split off from the group to go check on their respective hybrids. what they found when they entered hyejoo’s room was more than a little shocking. yeojin standing with blood on her cheek and an obviously upset hyejoo with her tail between her legs as she cried. both humans gasped, getting the attention of yeojin but not hyejoo, as she seemed too panicked to respond. yeojin did not seem upset, just kind of startled though they could tell she had cried a little before they arrived home.
“unnies, we were just playing it was an accident,” yeojin starts, thinking they would get mad at her wolf friend. “i shouldn’t have jumped on her while she was sleeping, she couldn’t help it.”
after hearing yeojin’s quick summary, haseul pulled her out of the room to get her face cleaned up while sooyoung made her way over to hyejoo. sooyoung was being cautious, she didn’t know if the wolf was far enough into her head to lash out in fear but as she got closer to the upset girl, she hardly responded. sooyoung softly called her name and her head snapped up, tears still running down her face. as soon as hyejoo registered that it was sooyoung there with her, she ran into her arms. sooyoung could only hold her as she cried and repeatedly apologized.
“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to, is yeojin ok, please let me see her.” hyejoo spewed questions and apologies at rapid fire as she held onto sooyoung’s arms, head buried in her shoulder.
“hyejoo, it’s ok. yeojin isn’t hurt too bad, she knows it was an accident, don’t worry honey.”
as hyejoo started to calm down, sooyoung looked at her, wiping her tears and asked if she would like to go see yeojin. hye nodded, already leading the way to the bathroom where they kept the first aid supplies. when the pair walked in, yeojin was sitting on the counter as haseul put a big bandage on her cheek. the kitten perked up seeing her friend less upset, and took the opportunity to clear the air.
“sorry i scared you while you were sleeping, i’ll keep my attacks to when you are conscious from now on.” of course yeojin was already back to her happy mischievous self, whock definitely helped hyejoo feel better as well. haseul and sooyoung both breathed a sigh of relief as they heard hyejoo’s response.
“i wasn’t scared, brat”
there’s the hyejoo they know and love.
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the--blackdahlia · 5 years
Text
5 Times
Title: 5 Times
Summary:  4 Times Motley Crue tried to kill themselves, and 1 time they did
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts. Language
1-Nikki
Seventeen years old. No money, no job, no family, no home. That’s exactly the way every kid wants to finish of their childhood, right? Being unloved, broke, and hungry, sitting on the curb outside of a bar and watching the drunks go by.
Frank Feranna, no, Nikki Sixx, would’ve done anything to not be in that situation right then.
He had a knife burning a hole in his pocket. He had cut his arm before. He still had the scar to prove it. How else was he supposed to get away from that mother of his? And he was not about to go back to it. But the only way he could see on getting out of his situation was at the sharp end of a switchblade knife. He pulled the item out of his pocket and stared at it. It almost seemed to glow under the flickering street lights. He closed his eyes, trying to find something in him that wanted to fight, wanted to live.
“Hey kid,” A voice called out from the entrance of the bar right behind Nikki. He turned to see a man standing there. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be at home?”
“I guess,” Nikki grumbled. The man took a step towards him.
“Jesus, you’re a fucking skeleton,” He looked Nikki up and down. “I tell you what. I need an extra hand. The Hollywood Vampires are here tonight and I’m a man down. You help me out, and I’ll let you eat whatever you want when they leave.”
“What?” Nikki asked, a little confused.
“Come on. You look like you could use a burger and I need help. What do you say?”
Nikki looked down at the knife and slid it back into his pocket before getting up and following the man into the Rainbow, where he spent the night serving the Hollywood Vampires and their guests, and eating until he couldn’t eat another bite.
2-Mick
What fucking good is a guitarist with ankylosing spondylitis? No fucking good, in Mick’s opinion. What was he going to do? Sit on a stool and strum while everyone else in his band got to run around and have fun? No fucking way. He wasn’t going to be some invalid.
But the depression that came with the diagnosis was starting to take a toll on him. He could already feel it slowly destroying him. And he honestly wanted to destroy himself before it had a chance to.
Vodka dulled the pain, but only for a little bit. Pills helped, but got the same results. He couldn’t handle the short term pain management anymore. It was starting to get so bad, he decided the best way to handle it was to do both at once. It would either kill him or help him, either he would take right then. He stared at the mound of pills in his hand and the bottle of clear liquid in his hand.
There was a knock at his bedroom door then. He cringed, thinking it was her, but a small voice accompanied the knock.
“Daddy?” Les’s voice could be heard through the door. “Are you awake?”
Mick took a deep breath and deposited the pills back into the bottle before going to the door.
“Hey Les,” Mick crouched down in front of him. “What’s up?”
“Daddy, can you read me a story?” He held the book out to his dad, which caused a smile to spread on Mick’s face.
“Sure thing kid. Want to help me read to Stormy?” Les nodded excitedly and took Mick’s hand, going to his baby sister’s room to help daddy read to her like a good big brother.
3-Vince
He didn’t sleep. The nightmares of what he had done kept him awake. He had killed someone, injured two others. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Razzle’s mangled body, the twisted metal of the car, he could smell the booze, and it all made him so sick. So he didn’t sleep until his body physically wouldn’t let him go on anymore.
It all came to a head during Theater of Pain. Nikki and Tommy were two busy who could snort the most lines, and Mick was trying to pass off his vodka as water. No one seemed to notice how fake his smiles were, how tired he was. As long as he put on a good fucking show, who cared? The fans sure didn’t, Doc didn’t, the other people in the band didn’t. As long as he belted out the songs right, signed some autographs, and banged a few chicks, no one gave two shits about him.
That’s why he was sitting in his dressing room, staring at the wall. That’s why he was thinking about the ways that he could end it. Because he should’ve died that night. He was the one that was drinking and driving, and he was the only one who walked away from it. How the fuck did he get to live when Razzle died? Beth had left him and taken the kids with her. He had court appointed sobriety tests until his probation was up. And no one fucking cared. They all drank in front of him, smoked and snorted in front of him, and partied it up while he was having to stay sober and sing the same shitty songs over and over again. If it wasn’t for Home Sweet Home, the album would’ve blown hard core.
He held his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do? His marriage was over. His kids only saw him a couple times a month, and the band that he had once loved, he now hated. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, all because of his big fuck up.
“Yo, fucker, it’s time to go!” Tommy called out.
“Come out and play Vinnie!” Nikki’s voice echoed. He was sure that Mick was out there, shaking his head at the two idiots.
“Vince! Come on man let’s go!” Tommy hit the door. Vince sighed and shook his head before getting up and opening the door. “Bout fucking time dude! Let’s go!” Tommy and Nikki took off down the hallway. Mick snagged Vince’s arm.
“I know that look,” He told him. “I know what you’re going through.”
“I’m fine Mick. Promise.” Vince lied. Mick shook his head.
“You know where my dressing room and hotel room is every stop. Don’t go through this alone,” He squeezed Vince’s shoulder before walking after Tommy and Nikki, Vince following up the parade.
Maybe someone did care after all…
4-Tommy
He was twenty-three. At twenty-three, he should’ve been getting drunk, playing music, and having the time of his life. Not standing in a courthouse getting a marriage annulled. He thought all his relationships would end up like his parents did. A proposal within hours of knowing each other, two kids, and a loving, lasting relationship. His parents didn’t fight, they didn’t resent each other.
Why was he so broken that he couldn’t find that?
He honestly thought Eliane was going to be the one. He followed everything exactly how his dad did, yet here he was, just a couple short months after tying the knot with her, he was separating from her.
“Fuck!” Tommy screamed out before he started throwing everything in his hotel room that wasn’t bolted down. Mattress, TV, lamps. It all went as far as he could throw them. He felt like his world was coming to an end. Why had it come to this? Why couldn’t he just have a moment of happiness?
He sank to the floor, surrounded by his mess. He wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. He wanted to just disappear. If he already screwed up marriage by twenty-three, what was he supposed to do next in life?
“T-Bone!” Nikki called as he came through Tommy’s door before stopping dead in his tracks. “Dude, what the fuck happened in here?”
“Go away Nikki,” Tommy mumbled, pulling his legs to his chest.
“Shit, what’s wrong?” Nikki sat on the floor by Tommy. “Hey, it’s me we’re talking about. You can’t hide things from me, you know that, right?” He nudged him with his elbow.
“I’m divorced,” Tommy whispered. “I screwed up and I’m divorced.”
“I don’t think this marriage falling apart was all your fault man,” Nikki told him. “I mean, you guys only knew each other a week, right?”
“My parents only knew each other a day,” Tommy grumbled.
“And you’re not your parents dude,” Nikki stood up and pulled Tommy to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“I don’t want…”
“No. We’re going out and that’s final.” Nikki stated before pulling Tommy to every strip club in town. By the end of the night, Tommy was feeling better. At least, a little bit. He leaned against Nikki as they stumbled back to their hotel.
“Hey Nik?” Tommy slurred.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever let me marry a pornstar again,” To which Nikki just laughed.
5-Motley Crue
White walls, large windows, support groups, therapy. It all fucking sucked. But it was needed. They had taken the role of the Bad Boys of Rock way too far, and it almost cost them. They needed this, despite what Vince said. This was the second time he had gone through it, and it wasn’t any better the second time around. He wouldn’t have gone through with it if Tommy didn’t have to be such a follower. Anything Nikki did, Tommy wanted to do. And Tommy convinced Mick, which left Vince. And he was not about to be the asshole who said no to rehab just because he didn’t want to.
But a couple months after they walked through the doors, bodies tired, hair greasy, and more drugs than blood in their system, they walked back out those doors, leaving behind a heroin addict, a cokehead, and two alcoholics in their wake.
They killed their old selves to start anew, and this was the first time, they all actually went through with it.
Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme
Motley Crue Tags: @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee @sharon6713 @kawennote09 @2dead2function @nikkisixxwiththebass @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @jayprettymuchomw @charlyallise @you-know-im-a-dreamer @sweet-dreams-on-butterfly-wings @estxxmotley @arianareirg @the-normal-potato @nikki-sixxtynine @jjjjjjjoshdun @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @stella20131991 @tarahell @wowilovenikkisixx @i-want-to-shoot-myself @motleycrueee @sams-serialkiller-fetish @getbackhonkycatt @are-you-reddie54321 @flamencodiva @lesliethegroupie @deacyduck @scarecrowmax @major-tom-is-a-junky @anyasthoughts @bandaids-not-groupies
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anghraine · 5 years
Text
“the jedi and the sith lord” - chapter fourteen
Last chapter:
“And don’t stiffen up your arm.”
Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, then down at her hand. For a moment, she could hardly breathe. Her father was here, alive, teaching her what she’d wanted to know for so long. Her father—
“I won’t turn to the Dark Side,” she said.
“You don’t need the Dark Side to hold a lightsaber correctly,” said Vader.
This chapter:
He couldn’t deny the fuller truth. He’d started training her because he wanted to. That first moment of correcting her grip had come without thought beyond a vague and instinctive sense that she should know. She was his daughter, the child he had expected and then thought dead, standing alive and well in front of him. She had a right to know such things.
chapters: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven, chapter twelve, chapter thirteen
-
“I don’t see the point,” said Lucy.
“Good posture is critical for—” 
Vader broke off as he realized, horrifyingly, that his voice had fallen into the exact cadence of Obi-Wan’s. Instead, he laid his hands on her shoulders and straightened them. Lucy twitched, but he only sensed annoyance and a confusion he couldn’t quite identify, not fear. 
“Hold this position and try the third form,” he ordered.
“There is no try,” said Lucy, looking down at her stick. Determinedly, she lifted it. “Only success or failure.”
“Nonsense,” Vader said, though he was aware his men probably thought he believed such a thing. “The point of practice is to attempt techniques. You repeat your attempts until you can succeed consistently, or until success is no longer possible. You do not give up after a single failure.”
Or many failures. He’d learned that painfully and repeatedly. 
Lucy heaved a long-suffering sigh, then straightened to her full, if tiny, height and lifted the stick. She adjusted her footing and lunged forward. 
“Better,” Vader told her. “Now, try again.”
“I’ve done it twelve times today,” said Lucy.
He didn’t doubt that she’d counted. Lucy, he’d quickly discovered, was one to nurse her grievances. In anyone else, he’d have soon crushed the quality; with Lucy, he reluctantly recalled his own youth, and suspected that some cosmic justice had caught up with him.
He told her, “Then another twelve will not hurt you.”
She groaned.
“A Jedi,” he said, “must be disciplined and relentless.”
“I’m not a Jedi,” said Lucy, pushing her hair out of her face. “You said so yourself.”
You will be. 
Vader laid his hands on her shoulders again, holding them in place. “Try again.”
It was what had become a typical day. Palpatine had given him a kind of limited leave in order to turn Lucy—Vader suspected the new project had some part in this—and he was able to carry out his more urgent duties from Bast Castle or Vjun’s orbit. When not preoccupied with Rebel attacks and Imperial machinations, or the painful regimen of treatments made necessary by Obi-Wan, he found himself tracking down Lucy. Sometimes he simply oversaw her practices without comment, but more often, they spoke, Lucy either slinging questions at him, or arguing, or sometimes, eagerly listening to what he had to say.
He didn’t term it training; she’d refused that, and he knew that if he presented it in that sense, she would back away again. But, however rudimentary the techniques he taught her—Obi-Wan seemed to have made an even more inadequate teacher to Lucy—it was very little short of full Jedi training. He even consulted the databanks they’d preserved from the Temple, his memories of those early stages of his padawan training no longer sharply clear, and in any case, not something he wished to remember. 
He avoid mentioning the Dark Side. Her rejection of the necessity awaiting her remained strong, and this was the first real progress he’d made with her. He had to break down her defenses before she would choose to walk down her destined path. 
This, he told himself, was the reason he’d started observing her practices and then intervening in them. It was their first step to ruling the galaxy.
Yet he couldn’t deny the fuller truth. He’d started training her because he wanted to. That first moment of correcting her grip had come without thought beyond a vague and instinctive sense that she should know. She was his daughter, the child he had expected and then thought dead, standing alive and well in front of him. She had a right to know such things, however little she enjoyed hearing them or demonstrating them. 
And sometimes, in fact, she did seem to enjoy one or the other. 
Once, when she set down her stick after a long practice, he said, “You weren’t trained with a lightsaber, were you?”
“A little,” said Lucy. Then she paused, plainly hiding something. “But that was more about defense. Mostly, I did other things.”
“Ah. What types of things?” he asked, intrigued. It took all his resolve to restrain himself from insisting on taking up her incomplete training in … whatever it was. 
Her brows knitted together, and he suspected she might refuse to answer. Instead, she said slowly,
“Well, there was a lot of running and jumping.”
“Running and jumping?” he repeated. “That is how you were trained?”
Obi-Wan had taught him a wide array of abilities, many certainly involving speed and maneuvers, but he’d always focused on the lightsaber above all else. Vader had no idea how many hours he’d spent practicing forms and deflection under his master’s critical eye, except too many. And then there’d been combat training, and then—well.
This weapon is your life.
“It helps,” said Lucy. 
“How?” he asked.
She seemed both thoughtful and bemused. Then she gave a little shrug. 
“Watch, Father.”
With no more warning than that, she took off running for the rung ladder on the side of the wall, scaled it with alarming speed, and all but bounced off the wall and onto a platform. She took an unhesitating leap to another platform, one her short legs could barely reach, then took another—and suddenly, she was burning in the Force, and somersaulting right off a high platform to one that her legs couldn’t possibly reach. 
The Force would protect her, of course. He knew that, but if he hadn’t known that, and if the suit didn’t regulate it, his heart might nearly have stopped.
With every appearance of little effort, she sprang over distances that no other person of her size could have made or, in all probability, survived. Finally, she threw herself at the wall, caught a rung with her hands, and clambered down like a spider, still shining. As she landed, she turned towards him, and her stick lifted into the air and soared into her waiting hand. 
Lucy jogged over.
“That’s the idea,” she told him. 
“I see,” said Vader. “Impressive.”
She actually grinned. He could sense none of her usual petty irritations and frustrations, or the sullen anger that usually smouldered beneath them. In that moment, she seemed happy.
-
As for further discussion of their respective pasts, they confined those to Lucy’s mealtimes. Even then, Vader generally diverted conversation onto Lucy’s past rather than his own, which he could hardly think about without feeling deafened by the echoes of the rage and despair that had dominated so much of his life. Speaking of it was still worse, and yet, he nevertheless found himself doing so now and then. Anything that made Lucy more amenable had to be attempted, and total ignorance would hardly serve her well. And in this, too, he felt that she had something like a right to know—particularly to know the things that Obi-Wan had obscured or omitted. 
“The Emperor was your mother’s mentor in her teenage years,” he told her. “She admired and respected him until their visions diverged.”
“Did she know what he was?” Lucy asked in a tight voice, between mouthfuls of some kind of vegetable soup.
She was the only person he knew who could eat soup aggressively.
“No,” said Vader. “None of us did.”
Us rang out oddly. It felt peculiar to class himself in with Padmé, who’d betrayed him, and Obi-Wan, who had more than betrayed him, and the corrupted Jedi Order of the time. But between them, they had comprised much of the galaxy for him, until he came to see more clearly.
Lucy, heiress to that galaxy, just nodded. 
“That makes it better,” she said. “Did you—”
“You said you knew Obi-Wan from your childhood,” he said abruptly. “Yet he did not interfere in your upbringing?”
She didn’t look fooled, but if he’d forced himself into a certain level of accommodation, so had Lucy. She accepted the change of subject without protest.
“I think Uncle Owen might have shot anyone who tried.” 
The horror of Shmi’s last hours had vastly overshadowed Anakin’s brief interchanges with Owen Lars. Dimly, however, he found himself approving of the man. It was a pity about the stormtroopers. A too-frequent pity, perhaps. Lucy might be able to more effectively take charge of them, once she became empress.
-
Lucy tried to consult her feelings. She’d learned to trust them, more or less—but only when she knew what they were. As it was, she felt a blurry mixture of determination and annoyance and resentment and excitement that gave her hardly any direction at all. Even at her calmest moments, the Light Side pouring through her, she had little idea of what she should be doing.
She didn’t see Ben again, and couldn’t trust his advice anyway. Chirrut only appeared in her dreams now and again, encouraging but bemused by the whole situation. Yoda was entirely inaccessible. When she referred to his teachings, Anakin almost always quarrelled with them, and often sounded convincing—but he was Darth Vader. 
She never let herself forget that, even as she learned what she could from him and followed his instructions. When she did, anyway. At night, she constantly questioned herself, worrying that she was sliding into the Dark Side against her own will, and certain that, at the very least, he must be trying to soften her up for it. But the Dark Side fed off anger and fear and hatred. However complicated her feelings about her father, she didn’t hate him, and rarely felt worse than a general aggravation. And she wasn’t afraid. Nervous, sometimes—but not afraid.
Sometimes, she was even happy.
That worried her most of all. She’d heard about people who became happy in captivity, who were trapped so long that they came to like it, or think that they did. People could get used to almost anything. And, in fairness, she didn’t have a whole lot of bad things to get used to, beyond the captivity itself and the disappearance of Tuvié, whose absent chatter still gave Ellex’s silences a heavy weight. Lucy knew it had to be purposeful: give her comforts, and an unspoken threat that they might be taken away at any moment, and it would grind her down. 
If she couldn’t sense her father in the Force, she might have focused on that, learning caution. But she could feel him, and the more time passed, the more clearly she sensed him. She knew there was more going on here, had known it from the moment he stepped out of his ship to recover her. She could feel his present and remembered rage, his shifts to cool calculation, his deep resentments. But she could also feel his anger subsiding into a simple close attention when he came to teach her, the Light Side then easier to grasp than at any other time. 
She sensed more than that, too. When she’d first shown him a part of what she could do, she’d finished with a decided sense of satisfaction and pride at her execution of the difficult routine and control over the Force—more satisfaction, in fact, than she actually felt. And she’d realized he was proud of her. Nothing more than that, perhaps, but nothing less: he had seen Lucy’s abilities, seen her succeed, and felt proud. 
That, in itself, didn’t have to say much about him, even if the awareness that her father was alive and proud of her made her feel like the darkest parts of the galaxy had turned inside-out and lit up like Empire Day. She was his daughter; it made sense that he’d see her, at times, as an extension of himself, and her successes as extensions of his own. It made all the more sense considering his ultimate plans for her. And yet it didn’t really feel like that. It felt like he—well, like he wanted her to succeed for her own sake, too, for no better reason than that he was her father and, in his way, he cared about her.
She dared not trust it. But she dared not disregard it, either, when she could see nothing of whatever futures might await her. And it made life here easier, feeling echoed pride when she did something well, and concern when she did something dangerous (not really dangerous, of course), and interest when she said anything at all. They felt like traces of the Anakin Skywalker he had once been, of some fractured inner goodness that somehow persisted. 
Was there still good in him?
She didn’t know. But in the end, Lucy could see no other way but forward.
-
“Ellex,” said Lucy. 
Ellex didn’t respond.
“Hey, Ellex!”
She looked at Lucy, managing to imbue the slight shake of her head with profound long-suffering. She still didn’t say anything.
“LX-3,” Lucy tried.
“I am the only LZ-line droid in Castle Bast,” said Ellex. “Quite probably, I am the only one on the planet.”
“Sure,” said Lucy. “I mean, it seems likely. But I had an idea for something you could help me with.”
Ellex shifted slightly, the red flash of her optical sensors about as encouraging as usual. 
Not very.
“Is it required for your basic functioning?” Ellex said.
“No,” Lucy replied, “but—”
“Then why should I assist you?” Ellex’s sensors flashed again. “You are a prisoner here. I will act to prevent any plans for escape you may have—”
“I don’t have any,” said Lucy.
“Given your history,” Ellex told her, “that seems extremely doubtful.”
Lucy stopped. She hadn’t lied; she really wasn’t thinking about escape. Maybe her exposure to the planet’s deadly environment had killed that idea, though she didn’t recall any specific moment when she’d given it up. She just hadn’t considered it for awhile. Shouldn’t that trouble her? 
It did, a little. But not much. She focused on her tangled emotions, trying yet again to pin down something that might guide her. But the Light Side supplied nothing but the general comfort of its presence. Maybe that meant that she was supposed to be here. Or maybe it just meant that she might as well be here as anywhere else, or—no, she couldn’t go through all that again.
Lucy shrugged the entire question off. “My idea isn’t about that. It’s about moving the platforms.”
She could feel her father approaching, though, so she privately gave up, even as Ellex tilted her head back to inspect the platforms.
“I fail to see a purpose in doing so.”
“You’d do it while I was up there,” said Lucy. “With the remote.”
Ellex clicked several times, then said, “I now see a purpose.”
Lucy honestly didn’t know if Ellex meant that she understood Lucy’s purpose, or would just find it entertaining.
“However,” the droid went on, “I do not wish to be—”
The door opened.
“—disintegrated by Lord Vader,” finished Ellex.
Vader glanced between them. Ellex clattered a little from some indistinguishable motion, but to Lucy’s senses, he seemed intrigued rather than angered.
“Who have I disintegrated today?” he asked.
Lucy thought he might be joking. If he knew how.
“No one,” she said. “I mean, I assume.”
“Miss Skywalker,” said Ellex, in faintly accusing tones, “was suggesting that I move the platforms while she is on them.”
For an instant, Lucy did feel afraid. It wasn’t her fear, though.
Vader sounded perfectly calm as he said, “Hm.”
“That’s why they move, isn’t it?” Lucy asked.
He didn’t answer, but just tilted his head back to examine the platforms. 
“This has got to be a place for a”—she remembered that she wasn’t a Jedi apprentice any more—“for someone with the Force running in them.”
“It was,” he said at last. “Very well. But there will be no acrobatics. For now, you will attempt the leaps, and that is all. Go on.” 
Ellex, with what Lucy suspected was decided droidly pleasure, took up the remote and began to adjust the platforms. Lucy scaled the ladder took her usual leap onto the platforms, then just took a running jump that nearly failed as the new platform shifted towards her instead of away as she’d expected. She managed the next landing, but she did fail the third, only managing to hang on to the edge of the platform by her hands, while her legs dangled in the air. The Force gathered around Vader, though she neither knew nor wanted to know what he intended. She managed to hoist herself up, adrenaline rushing through her. 
With all the stops and starts and adjustments, it took longer than usual to fully open herself to the Force, but once she did, everything became clear. Something in her instincts told her which way the platforms would move before they actually did, and after that, she smoothly ran and sprang from platform to platform until she finally tired out. Lucy made her final jump before the ladder, then let go of the Force, launched herself at the wall—and as the last platform shifted under her feet, she failed.
For real, this time. There was no way to grasp either the platform she’d leapt from or the rungs ahead of her. But she didn’t have time to yell, because she simply stopped moving, her body hanging in the air.
Vader didn’t speak, but as clear as anything, she heard his voice. Do not try to free yourself.
What?
Slowly, she floated down to the floor, and landed with a scuffle of her boots. Well, she hadn’t thought of using that on people. Could she, even? Lucy looked doubtfully at Vader as he strode over to her, the stick in hand.
“That was exceptionally dangerous, young woman,” he said.
She dusted herself off and smiled. “All things are possible with the Force, Father.”
“Not if you release the Force.”
Lucy thought about it. 
“That depends, doesn’t it? After all, it’s still around.”
He now seemed irritated, but also something else she couldn’t pin down. And—curious? 
“Anyway,” she went on, “you were there.”
“I am here,” said Vader grimly, though she wasn’t sure what he meant by it. “Open yourself to the Force.”
“I won’t—”
“I didn’t say the Dark Side,” he said, as if hadn’t ordered her to turn for weeks on end. 
Lucy eyed him with some suspicion, but she trusted that the Light Side would never lead her astray. She breathed in, recalling the moments when every shift of the platforms had fallen into place and her muscles had just seemed to know what to do, and with nothing more than that, it coursed through her. Her weariness faded, a little.
“All right,” she said. 
He dropped the stick into her hand. “Sixth form. Go.”
She almost refused, almost insisted, I can’t, I’m too tired, but remembered just who he was. With a heavy exhalation, she adjusted her feet and shoulders and swung the stick upwards, going through the movements of deflection even though nothing was attacking her. With her hands sweaty and her muscles aching, it seemed particularly pointless.
Still, she dutifully carried out the prescribed movements, feeling rather like a dancing puppet. Vader, as far as she could tell, was pleased, but also dissatisfied in some way.
“Well?” demanded Lucy, lowering the stick and rubbing her arm.
“Good,” he said, “though you will not progress further with a stick and no real opponents.”
“It’s not my fault,” said Lucy.
“That,” said Vader, “is extremely debatable. But it must be changed.”
She blinked, baffled. “How are you going to find opponents for me?”
“Quite easily,” he replied, and reached for something under his cape, then tossed it at her. 
Lucy caught it without thinking—and her hands closed around the hilt of a lightsaber. Lucy stared at it, instantly recognizing the shape and design as the one she’d carried for so long, then lifted her eyes to her father.
“What—”
Vader drew his own—his current—lightsaber and flicked it onwards, its red light jarring in the white and blue room. Lucy took a step back.
He lifted the saber.
“Defend yourself!”
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underwaterwoods · 5 years
Text
so i saw the star war
spoilers ahoy
i guess this is just gonna be random bullet points
* i actually feel pretty chill about it. yay for being spoiled. also like.... if you ignore the ridiculous stuff there’s actually a lot to have fun with in this one. i don’t know how i’ll feel about it once i’ve processed it more. i just know i had fun while watching it, which i know isn’t true for everybody. i totally understand the negativity - it all makes sense to me. i’m just glad i sort of.... FORCED myself to have enough distance to just go in like ‘i’M PrepArED fOr wHAtEveR’
*i did like all the jumping around between locations in the first half and how ben would show up everywhere rey was. what a ‘you’re everywhere i go’ pairing. /chef’s kiss/. also having the different locations gives a sense of spaciousness (even if it’s all happening over a short period of time) which i missed in tlj.
*one of the things that gave me the most joy as the hux thing ??? X’’’D it was EXACTLY like that ‘the farce awakens’ ep where hux LITERALLY JOINS THE RESISTANCE cuz he can’t stand kylo. like what kind of fanfic...... how do the hux fans out there feel? (i really love the hux fans they’re a great bunch XD). shame that he was gone right after though.
* i actually enjoyed the trio dynamic? like i get the desire to move away from ‘trio mentality’ but the rey/poe tension with finn as mediator was fun. and finn and poe as joint generals? adorable. shame that the whole finn/poe thing got a bit clouded by.... stormpilot baiting and rose erasure and all the things... Also i’m not anti any character - i like zorii - but.... let poe stay a gay icon? i guess he can still be a queer icon it’s all good i’m down for whatever.
*speaking of finn.... loved seeing more of his humour back. didn’t love that there was no unpacking of how he feels taking out stormtroopers. but loved the found family of jannah and the other ex-stormtroopers. i feel like that gave SOME resolution/depth to finn’s origins. and finn being a non force user but seemingly super attuned to the force and its ways? i can roll with that.
*more speaking of finn... i wonder what they were doing with the ‘thing he wants to tell rey that he never gets to tell rey’. seems like an obvious ‘i love you’ thing. but at the same time we got reylo (/basks in that for a second/). it feels to me like throwing a bone to the finnrey people? like they didn’t get it in this movie but it could be a thing in the future? regaurdless, i did like how finn and rey were very connected and back to that loving friendship they had in tfa. we never quite got the ‘you have a force bond with the supreme leader?!!’ conversation but we got.... SOME conversation.
* speaking of the supreme leader... kinda love that we got renperor AND ben solo TM. i prefer to view ben more holistically (he is both ‘ben’ and ‘kylo’) but i get that making them two distinct identities was a helpful shortcut of sorts. he could ‘kill’ kylo and switch to being ben in a single scene. i always prefer Soft Boi Ben but if we were gonna get Bad Boy Kylo i’m glad they established it right out the gate. it was like ok, this is what to expect; this is where we’re at with this character. 
*ben with his costume change at the end....... omg. gave me BIG smuggler!Ben vibes. urgh, give me all the AUs. ben deserves more.
*the amount of swagger when he was fighting the KOR
*idk i feel like i’m not even touching on the big stuff. this was just a ‘get all my side thoughts out of my system’ post.
*adam’s smile after the kiss though......... ...  /the most beautiful thing in this world/
*truly iconic that people were right about the strategic, covert introduction of force healing via baby yoda like one month before tros.
*oh yeah it was wILD that so much of the imagery from the trailers/tv spots etc was in like the first five mintues of the movie ??? i totally assumed the ‘i have been every voice you’ve ever heard inside your head’ moment would be climactic rather than right up front
*oh yeah the vader mask.... that didn’t really mean anything in the end then did it?
* re: ben’s death. maybe it’s because i was braced for it but in some ways it’s the best way he could have gone. he was definitely happy and reunited with the light - both through love of rey and of his family. hIGHKey could have done with ben’s force ghost also appearing at the end? the only good thing about not seeing it is.... LF deciding to retcon his death ? ??XD obs they’re not gonna but if you want a crackpot silver lining there it is.
*what exactly does rey’s future look like, may i ask?
* oh yeah, Passing The Saber Through The Force. maybe my favourite moment. the force bond as a bare concept is so romantic to me i would watch a whole trilogy just exploring the magic system of that - it’s limitations and possibilities. 
* i do like that jj developed the visual style of the bond. we got to see them occupying the same space, the way each of them would be seeing the other (’can you see my surroundings, i can’t see yours, just you’)
*i miss that rian johnson sound editing on the bond though..... god, the iNTIMACY of the tlj bond scenes....
*’i DID want to take your hand’
*also just the word choice of ‘take your hand’/ ‘i offered you my hand’. it’s extremely marriage.
*there was also a moment in the hanger when ben was like ‘we’re one’ basically? he was saying it in the context of rey’s lineage but still...............the validation. one soul. 
*palps was like ‘you live and die together’ which made me REALLY think of skytalkers podcast. obviously assumed they would both have to LIVE together but.... /deep sigh/
*blah this could go on forever i’ll add more later
edit #1:
* OH YEAH! reverse anidala was such a thing! why did it have to be SO reverse anidala though? X’D instead of taking her life, he gives her his own. (i know it’s not clear anakin totally killed padme etc etc but ya feel me)
* ok i hate that ben died obvs obvs but, taking that for what it is, it was very romeo and juliet. i kinda love just the imagery of it. like... the physical blocking/choreography of adam getting daisy into his arms, holding her, then he falls and it’s her holding him. the way she catches his neck. really reminded me of the smoothness of the bridal carry. and rey’s flexed foot in that moment of shock. love the body language. back to that kind of ‘’staccato’’ rey of tfa days.
edit #2:
*lololol @ LF trying to establish how ‘bad’ kylo is by having him kill a bunch of people in the beginning. it was just.... Hot.
edit #3:
* rose deserves better. obviously. she looked so good though. i like that she had some moments with connix too. 
* ben called han ‘dad’......
*ben standing there, overlooking the waves, with his leG EXTENDED BEFORE HIM. wanderer above a sea of fog. wanderer above a sea of foggg.
* rey having compassion for the snake thing. we been knew. kinda nice to have it in there. obviously good set up for ~later force healing shenanigans~
* OH YEAH OH YEAH. i kept thinking about atla. i know people have been making comparisons to it from the start and i’ve been DEEPLY INTO those comparisons. but it was truly a blessing for me to remember.... there is a version of this out there that you love and that is Good Content TM. legit i can just go watch atla again to heal from this. omg yeah cuz REY HEALING HIS WOUND ALSO HEALED HIS SCAR. very crystal cave.......... nah but nah but - the ‘you are every jedi’ was EXTREMELY avatar-esk..... like, engage avatar state. i don’t like how it ended up being the same old conflict between jedi and sith - ‘good’ and ‘bad’ - OBVIOUSLY THE POINT IS TO INTEGRATE THE CONFLICTING PARTS OF SELF; THE SHADOW SIDE; TO TRANSCEND OLD DICHOTOMIES - but i did love hearing all the voices from past jedi. that’s some good ‘the ancestors are with you’ shit.
edit #4:
* i think the first thing we hear rey say is ‘be with me’? ngl i was like ‘pls be invoking the force bond’ X’D i am a clown. that was a beautiful shot though. and love that a version of the bond kicked in like two seconds after that. 
edit #5:
*there’s that bit where reylo are fighting on the death star ruins and he’s winning and rey kinda falls to her knees panting and lowkey defeated and, not to be a shallow bitch but..... it was Hot.
*also dark rey......... was HOT. SHE WAS SO KIRA, WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS, AND I WAS INTO IT LIKE HNGGGG
*obvs i wanted rey to be truly no one. but casting jodie comer as rey’s mum ? ????? urgh, pefection, i love it.
*palps was so random i stg..... his plan was.... convoluted to say the least. 
*also who was under all those hoods?
*the KOR just kinda... being around again was hilarious. no explaination required. the boys are back in town. ben facing them without a mask and essentially wearing his pjs? loved it. 
edit #6:
*seriously though ben’s redemption outfit.............. /heart eyes emoji into the sunset/.......... you can see his collar bone.............. /cares about the important things/.................
edit #7:
*one thing i loved about the reylo was how Space Wizards TM they both were in this movie. it so highlights their connection by making it clear that they are each other’s only peer. i thought it would be a thing of ‘why is the supreme leader constantly interacting with/going after this girl?’ but it’s not because it’s so clear that they are the only two people on each others’ level. no one would dare question the fact that they’re constantly circling each other in a lustful murderous rage.
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