#I'm guessing there is a connection to my

[elektroyu]

Guys for some reason I became addicted to Japanese cooking videos on YT and I can't wait to try making all of these delicious looking things and 😭😭😭

Actually I started watching them because I wanted to eat ramen again, but lately my digestion is very sensitive to all kinds of instant or frozen ready-made foods and can't handle those, so I have to eat self made things most of the time. I'm also pretty fed up/ feel limited with what we usually eat here, since I also can't tolerate a lot of meat and stuff (poultry and fish are fine mostly, but things like beef and pork not so much). Then recently I tried instant miso soup again after years and liked it waaaay better than I remembered, so I guess my digestion is saying this is a food direction I should explore. So apparently I'm getting into Japanese cooking now 😂 and you can't imagine how excited I am!

[thestarfishface]

tfw you have a loose collection of ideas for a new story but it's still really early on so most of it's really loose concepts and not anything solid enough to fully brainstorm, but you REALLY REALLY want to get to the point where you can DO something with it

I have essentially planted a mystery seed in the garden and am now staring at the little patch of soil waiting for something to happen and it's driving my CRAZYYYYYYY

[nevertheless-moving]

So You Just Killed Palpatine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.

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

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

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

Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.

“The what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Kenobi, speak clearly.”

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

Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan nodded.

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

Obi-Wan shook his head.

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

Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.

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

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.

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

Another no.

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

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

Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

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

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

Mace Windu didn’t reply.

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

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

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

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

That probably wasn't a good sign.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

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

"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He walked out.

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

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

//

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

Shit.

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

"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

"Years?" he asked, amused.

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

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

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

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

"It was a really cool fight."

"...Thank you, padawan."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.

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

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

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

Coughing should not be this exhausting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.

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

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

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

[somnimagus]

My page for @destinytriofanzine! I drew something about kids always dreaming of far off places

[id in alt!]

[malenjoyer]

Hello! I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I just wanted to tell you about how your style has inspired me so much!! Probably an ask you’ve gotten a lot, but I just have to know; how do you go at line work? It looks so good when you do it. Like, you’ve perfected where to leave gaps, what should be thick and thin, what should be subtle shading, etc. I’m so jealous! Do you have any suggestions on how to improve in this area? I’d love some insight!!

Thank you! That's very unexpected to hear but also kind of nice! :D That's the first time anyone has said that to me.

For line weight, Mark Morales covers it very well here

Aside from using line weight to show light source, you can also use it to emphasize stuff, which is what I like doing. I think it's essentially the same logic though- I just bend the rules often to make it work the way I want it to. Lots of trial and error and fixing stuff.

As for the gaps, I don't really know how to explain it without sounding a little weird. I think it's just something I developed as a habit where areas where you're supposed to connect with thin lines, I just don't finish it. Most of the time I don't finish my lines, because I don't need to. I live and embrace the karma of not connected line art when I color it.

I think my style boils down to How do I draw good with the least amount of work which sounds questionable, but the less I focus on whether each individual line connects or looks good, the more stamina I have for the rest of the drawing.

If you've got this hamster, you're like 60% of the way there.

Real answer: probably try doing gesture drawings with the least amount of lines possible with 2 minute timer to simulate what happens in my brain when I do line art. you can try to apply the line weight stuff and think okay where would I apply thickness to show shadow or emphasize curves

[devilsskettle]

The X trilogy + "psycho-biddy" influences

[fictionadventurer]

The truth at the heart of the Santa Clause franchise is that jaded "realistic" adults need to embrace a sense of childlike wonder and believe in things beyond what logic and their senses tell them is possible. The stories work when they serve that theme--Scott learning to believe in his new role, Neil and Laura learning to believe in Santa, Carol learning to recapture her childhood belief in Santa, the teachers at the staff party getting to experience the Christmas miracle that recaptures their childhood experiences. For a story to fit in this franchise, it has to be about moving beyond a narrow idea of the world and embracing a fuller understanding of truth.

The stories that don't work are the ones that are about hiding the truth and telling lies. The North Pole storyline in the second movie fails because it's about Curtis and Bernard telling an elaborate lie to the other elves. The storyline in the third movie about keeping Carol's parents from finding out they're truly in the North Pole fails for the same reason.

Santa's North Pole workshop is a strange, unbelievable thing. It doesn't make sense according to a logical, adult view of the world. It doesn't need to be hidden. Adults are supposed to be encouraged to know the whole truth. It's supposed to be difficult to believe--but they should believe in it. Embracing truth--even truth that exceeds the bounds of human reason--is the theme at the heart of this franchise, which is why the films ring hollow when the story is about trying to hide that truth instead.

[canisalbus]

hey! do you consider yourself a furry? if so, do you enjoy being in the community? if not, what label do you use, and why? (been wanting to ask this for a while:))

Sure, I don't mind being called a furry. My art certainly qualifies as furry art and my characters are furry characters. But I've never been that connected or active in the furry fandom in general. There's a lot of core experiences that I'm missing: I don't have a fursona, I don't own a fursuit and I've never been to a furry con. My online circles are very furry-centric but I don't think any of my irl friends consider themselves furries, despite our shared tastes and interests.

[commandertartarsmoocher]

Tartar, what would u do if one of your sanitized smooched you

Tartar seems to have a strong aversion towards any sort of affection...

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - Depths of Darkness

[airenyah]

wait ok so @titkos--sideblog @lavenderrlilac both of you mentioned that the murder husband pic could be from the paint ball scenes, but the suits they are wearing in the paint ball scenes that we got in the music videos are way too dark to match the ones from the murder husband photos (and the sleeves don't match either):

so are we thinking there are TWO different suits for the paint ball?? or maybe they go play paint ball two separate times with different outfits?? or is the murder husband pic something else entirely??

someone else mentioned that they thought it was a bts from JD's halloween shortfilm, but dunk wore a black pair of pants and a white shirt for that and joong wore black and both are in short sleeves (and dunk's shoes don't match):

[pocketramblr]

Inspired by this post: give Bruce a star sapphire ring

I've never met anyone who cared as deeply for his fellow man as Bruce Wayne

[ndostairlyrium]

of course they're having a baby! and of course she's a menace! u-u

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

I just became very explicitly aware that my life is ruled by neither the forces of sexuality nor of romance, and that most people apparently consider that unusual.

[vynegar]

vyn 5th birthday ssr, part five

a new resolution

same disclaimers from part one (note the extra one from usual, regarding story content)

youtube link to ShiroNaya’s video of the card story

links to previous parts: one two three four

more tot stuff here

do not repost

[PART FIVE]

[48:29]

Vyn didn’t want the situation to interfere with my work, so the next day I went to the law firm as usual. Online public opinion was worsening, and even his saving Zheng Yan was branded as insincere. The instigators hid behind their screens as they stirred up the masses, who were easily swayed by exaggerations or those were societally disadvantaged.

Some questioned Zheng Yan’s motives, asking why someone who truly wanted to end their life would start a livestream that was just asking for trouble. The opposition pointed out the imbalance in power dynamics; Zheng Yan’s extreme actions were simply out of desperation. He was at the end of his rope, and everyone could see his pain and despair.

[48:47] Near the Research Center

The endless altercations and continued smearing of Vyn’s name was heartrending to see. Once I was off work, I immediately rushed over to the research center to find Vyn.

MC: (It’s so quiet… I wonder why Vyn texted me to come here instead of going inside?)

In order to prevent any incidents, Vyn temporarily closed the research center, so the street that was typically brightly-lit was now empty and silent. One streetlamp feebly lit up a corner, a sharp contrast with the lively, bustling city streets in the distance.

Vyn: Over here.

The sight of Vyn’s warm smile dispelled most of my melancholy and confusion, and I walked up and took the hand Vyn reached out to me.

MC: Were you waiting a long time?

Vyn: No, you arrived just as I finished preparing.

MC: What are these…?

There were documents scattered haphazardly next to the flowerbed, and beside them was a shallow metal bowl. Vyn took a lighter out of his pocket and nimbly rolled the spark wheel. With a crisp click, sparks ignited then quickly extinguished.

Vyn: Just a little ceremony I have prepared.

The trees rustled in the night breeze, like background noise giving his words a sense of despondence.

Vyn: MC, I told you before about why I left Svart…

MC: Yeah.

That was when we visited Ferro Winery, and Vyn used his intoxication as an excuse to tell me about his past and his worries (1). Just like right now, that night was as quiet as if we were the only two people in the world.

MC: The Church interfered with you studying psychology. Eirik tried to resist them, but to no avail. You took the opportunity to abandon everything you didn’t care about and come to Stellis.

Vyn: Yes. I had not thought about that in a long time, until Zheng Yan appeared.

Vyn handed me an old newspaper. The bolded headline on it said: “Psychology student assists police in arresting a murderer. His true identity is…?” The contents of the article were largely consistent with what Vyn previously said, only with exaggerations to make Vyn’s performance seem prodigious. That was understandable, as a way to draw readers’ attention.

Vyn: Back then, my assistance to the police was kept highly confidential, but this article still showed up the next day as a front-page headline.

MC: Someone did this intentionally?

Vyn: Correct. Information can be leaked with unimaginable speed, even under the dual authority of both the police and the Haspran family.

I recalled that Zheng Yan had also alluded to this incident…

[flashback]

Zheng Yan: How shameless can you be?! I heard you used my case to make yourself the center of attention in Svart, and got everyone heaping praise on you and psychology. But who would’ve thought, behind all your fancy titles of “doctor” and “professor”, you’re nothing but filth!

[end flashback]

During the time, I hadn’t paid attention to the meaning behind his words. Now, I realized the irony in them.

MC: Was that also the work of Eirik’s political opponent?

Vyn: Yes…

Just as I expected, Vyn was finally filling in the gaps of what he didn’t elaborate on yesterday. It was because he had already previously been mired in controversy due to his father’s political disputes that made him so certain about Eirik’s call yesterday. He may have guessed it even earlier, once he sensed that there was someone in the shadows pulling the strings, only Vyn had still been holding out some hope.

MC: What happened next?

Vyn: Soon, news of the Haspran family heir’s study of and achievements in psychology spread throughout Svart. The Church was outraged, and pressured my father to explain and resolve the issue for them.

MC: Eirik wasn’t on your side?

Even though I knew the outcome, I couldn’t stop myself from asking. It wasn’t that I had any illusions about Duke Haspran… it was just a futile wish that Vyn hadn’t been completely isolated and abandoned back then.

Vyn: At the time, Father’s new policy reform was at a critical stage. The Church’s support was indispensable.

The words were so simple, yet they chilled my heart. If he needed the Church’s support, then he wouldn’t oppose them for Vyn’s sake… Zheng Yan kept claiming that Vyn made himself the center of attention, but what did that so-called “attention” actually get him?

Vyn: The only solution he could think of was a stalling tactic, and he asked me to temporarily give up on psychology. However, I was already determined to continue researching psychology, and I yearned to explore that in practice. I did not want to wait, and I felt I did not need to.

Vyn paused briefly, and the whole world felt suspended for that moment, even the moonlight dimming.

Vyn: I explained my passion to Father, but he felt that psychology research could be conducted at any time, while his new policy reform could not wait. In truth, neither of us was in the wrong. I should have known all along that our values were never aligned. The conflict finally became irreconcilable, and in the heat of an argument, my father threatened my right of inheritance.

At that point, Vyn looked slightly upward, avoiding my gaze. When he lowered his head again, I couldn’t see any hint of emotion in his face.

Vyn: I had no interest whatsoever in that, so the threat was meaningless. Therefore, I thought of a better solution.

MC: You decided to renounce your inheritance?

Vyn: Yes. That way, the Church could not use me to attack my father, and I could do whatever I wanted. It was a win-win situation.

Despite the satisfactory conclusion, Vyn still looked somewhat despondent. Was it a win-win, or actually a lose-lose…? They themselves might not even be certain.

“Click” – at the scraping of the spark wheel, an orange flame flickered at Vyn’s fingertips.

Vyn: As you can see, these years while I have been in Stellis, my father has always believed that I would change my mind someday. Consequently, he drew up legal documents to ensure that a majority of his assets and authority could be transferred to me.

I couldn’t tell if it was from the streetlamps or moonlight, but the stack of documents were luminous. Even without reading their contents, they seemed heavy.

Vyn: I have never had the heart to fully dispose of them, until now.

[54:23 illustration]

Without the slightest hesitation, he brought the documents to the lighter. Fire greedily leapt across the pages, and Vyn let go before they were fully consumed. The papers that symbolized the power revered and sought by countless people fell into the bowl like shooting stars, and soon only the faintest traces remained. Page after page, the words rapidly curled, shriveled, and burned, our apprehension disappearing along with it.

Vyn: Honestly, I should have done this long ago.

His cheeks were illuminated a rosy hue by the fire; his glasses reflected the dancing flames. Vyn’s face, however, was more carefree and relaxed than I had ever seen before.

Vyn: I loathe Svart, especially all those pretentious people. They see you, me, and Zheng Yan as nothing but pawns to control. From the very beginning when they leaked my assistance to the police, I was nothing more than a pawn in their game of political chess. No one cared if I genuinely loved studying psychology or if it was profitable… just like how no one is sincerely helping Zheng Yan. What he needs is treatment, not someone who sees him and even his mental illness as an opportunity to utilize.

I think I understood the ceremony Vyn was referring to. Being used, abandoned, and framed…that was not something he could be unaffected by. The meaning in burning these documents was miniscule compared to the trouble it would be to sort out the aftermath, but he needed to do this. People commonly use fire to declare the death of something, and Vyn needed fire to make this a true farewell.

MC: What do you plan to do next, Vyn?

Vyn: You mean “we”. From now on, no matter what we do, we will decide together.

Vyn held my hand. Perhaps warmed by the flames, his hand was hot.

Vyn: For Svart aristocrats, engaging with psychology is unacceptable in the eyes of the Church. We can expose this incident, just like what they did previously, and give them a taste of their own medicine.

MC: Alright. What do we need to do?

Vyn: First, I need to diagnose Zheng Yan and begin to treat him. Zheng Yan is an alter of James, which legally categorizes him as incapacitated due to mental illness. Therefore, he cannot be held legally accountable for any of his actions, including his testimony, which is also unlikely to be admitted in court. When he is able to attend court, I would like you to seek justice for him.

MC: Are you going to sue?

Vyn: Yes. Zheng Yan and I were both innocent people who were implicated in this. Of course, I could choose to quietly negotiate with the mastermind right now… I am sure that as long as I am willing to conceal Zheng Yan for him, he will choose to stop while he is ahead. However, I am tired of these temporary ceasefires. Eventually someone has to tear down their hypocritical masks. But this path is bound to be more difficult, and I…

The light crackle of burning paper seemed to finish his sentence.

MC: You’re ready, aren’t you? To walk this difficult, uncertain path. Then go give it your all.

As if caught in turbulence, the ashes leapt up then melted into the night without a trace.

MC: I can’t promise that we’ll win, or that the path ahead will be smooth sailing. But I believe in your decisions, which is why I became your companion.

With the moon bright above us, the last embers were about to extinguish.

Vyn: To be honest, I do not have any grand convictions. I am simply trying to become someone like that person mentioned in a book I read when I was younger. “I love the one who justifies people of the future and redeems those of the past.” (2)

Vyn smiled faintly, his silver hair swaying gently under the moonlight, looking pure and clear. He lowered his head and mouthed the remaining lines, as if in silent prayer –

“I love the one who justifies people of the future and redeems those of the past: for he wants to perish of those in the present.”

“I love the one whose soul is overfull, so that he forgets himself, and all things are in him: thus all things become his going under.”

“I love all those who are like heavy drops falling individually from the dark cloud that hangs over humanity: they herald the coming of the lightning, and as heralds they perish.”

[END PART FIVE]

(1) From Vyn’s Food for Thought SSR. This actually happens at the end of part 4 in the card story, before the scene where Vyn is “tipsy”.

(2) “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” Big Data Lab entry (under Works>Literature): These lines are all excerpts from Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Nietzsche (translated by 钱春绮Qian Chunqi), although it is not presented in the exact order it appears in the original.

[T/N] The excerpt is from end of passage four in the prologue of Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for All and None (or Thus Spake Zarathustra depending on the translation), a book by the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. The lines do appear in this order, however there are lines in between that are omitted. The original is in German, so the quotes I’m using are from the English version translated by Adrian Del Caro and edited by Robert Pippin (2006). You can read the first part of the book, including the passage quoted by Vyn, here: https://assets.cambridge.org/052184/1712/excerpt/0521841712_excerpt.htm

Note that Vyn comments about the Svart coming-of-age ceremony in his Journey Forth With You SSR:

"It is a bit like Stellis' legend of rebirth from fire, only that the agent of rebirth in Svart is water."

[herefortheships]

It happened. I have listened to the entirety of MacArthur Park. All seven and a half minutes of it, and even repeated certain parts. A song I would have never looked up on my own, all because of this hopeless romantic, moldy old poltergeist and his gorgeous middle-aged goth babe. 💚💜💚💜