#WAHOOOOO IT'S THE HORRORS

[reactionimagesdaily]

[autoneurotic]

‘You can’t play the “gracious host” forever […] This is what you wanted, after all.’

[ihavemanyhusbands]

The Assassin's Apprentice

PART ONE: RELUCTANCE

Mini-Series Masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Duncan Vizla x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.6k words

Summary: A reluctant mentor gets assigned a reluctant apprentice to learn the ropes of the hitman business... Eventually. The result? Various situations for them to bond and play nice with each other, even if it's not always easy.

Warnings: one bed trope wahooooo, sort of implied mutual pining, assassin!reader (in training), swearing, lots of tension, slight power imbalance, eventual smut, beginnings of fluff, eventual angst, slight age gap (reader is in her 20s), smoking, and I think that's it right now but lmk if anything else!

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“How long until we’re there?” You asked, glancing over at him.

He glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and turning back to the passenger side window. You tried to discern anything in the endless darkness of the highway, but you couldn’t see beyond the occasional road sign illuminated by the truck’s headlights.

You’d been on the road for hours, with no real idea of where, or when, Duncan — the so-called mentor you’d been paired with — was planning to stop. Your next assignment was somewhere in the midwest, between Illinois and Indiana, but he’d kept most of the other details to himself. 

You weren’t sure how he expected you to learn anything about the business if he wasn’t willing to share what he knew. You could barely even call him a teacher, really, but you found it was more due to willful negligence rather than outright incompetence. If anything, you’d think it would help the mentorship end faster, especially since you knew he was just as unhappy being stuck with an apprentice.

You’d only been working together for a couple of months, but you didn’t feel like you’d progressed all that much. Sure, you were getting a much better handle on weaponry, but you still had a long way to go. Guns were especially difficult, but that was yet another lesson he had neglected to teach you. 

Still, there was a small part of you that didn’t want to call the agency about a replacement. At least, you had gotten to know him enough to predict his moods and some of the decisions he took. Starting over again with someone new just seemed too tedious at that point. 

It was as they said, after all, better the devil you know than the one you don’t…

You sighed, wishing you could just go to sleep and forget everything for a few hours. Finally, as if your silent prayers were being answered, he pulled off the road into the parking lot of a dingy-looking motel. Surprisingly, it was relatively full, but there was a vacant spot right in front of the main office that Duncan pulled into.

“Let me do the talking,” he said, switching off the ignition. 

You rolled your eyes. “What, you don’t trust me not to give us away or something?”

“No, but I don’t want any sort of unnecessary back and forth, like right now,” he said pointedly. “We’ll take whatever room they have, we’ll sleep for a few hours, and we’ll leave early in the morning. That’s it, nothing more to it. You understand?”

“Whatever,” you muttered under your breath, following him to the main office. 

The reception had a rustic feel to it, with sparse decorations that had probably not been changed since the eighties. A small, old TV was playing Jeopardy, the voices indistinct and low. You hung back and pretended to leaf through some old pamphlets while Duncan went to speak to the manager, an old man who had been dozing off in his chair before you entered.

The manager looked through his yellowed logbook and smiled with what seemed to be relief.

“You’re in luck, this is our last room available,” he said.

“Two beds?” Duncan asked.

He shook his head. “Just a single, king-sized bed.”

At this, you couldn’t help yourself — your head snapped up in horror, eyes wide. “But you have extra cots, right?”

“Unfortunately, we are currently out of them. We have some larger families staying here right now.”

Duncan shot you a warning glare over his shoulder and you pursed your lips. You nodded tightly at the manager, who was confused at your slight distress. 

“I-is that alright with you? I’m sorry I can’t do more,” he said, eyeing Duncan, clearly intimidated by his size.

“It’s fine, we’ll take it. How much?” Duncan said, his voice starting to become haggard with exhaustion, and took out his wallet.

“Forty-five.”

He handed him the cash and practically snatched up the key. He jerked his head towards the door so you’d follow suit and you left the pamphlets back where you’d found them. 

“Room eighteen, at the other end of the lot!” The manager called out as the two of you were halfway out the door. 

You shot him an apologetic glance and mouthed a quick thank you before closing the door, the bell overhead jingling. 

Outside, Duncan immediately lit a cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. You gathered what little belongings you’d brought from the truck and followed him toward the room, silently cursing your luck. 

Your mind was racing with possibilities, but the one that kept coming up was making him sleep on the floor. It was only polite, after all, but you doubted he’d give in without a fight… If he gave in at all. Another option was to sleep on the floor yourself, but the consequences would not be pretty for him in the morning. 

You were struggling to come up with much else, but sleeping in the same bed was absolutely unthinkable. You wouldn’t even consider it. But still, heat traitorously crawled to your cheeks at the thought.

When you got close enough, you had to shake yourself out of your thoughts as he tossed the key at you. You barely caught it, blinking in surprise, but then you shoved past him with a huff. Dickhead.

“I’m gonna finish this,” he said, referring to his cigarette. 

Wordlessly, you shut the door behind you and dropped your bag on the bed, irritation still looming like a dark cloud over you. Before you could really think about it, you grabbed some sleep clothes and locked yourself in the bathroom to shower. 

The hot stream of water did seem to help ease some of your tension, and so you lingered for perhaps a little too long. You scrubbed thoroughly to wash the long day off of you, trying not to think of what would come next. 

What you didn’t know was that outside, Duncan had lit another cigarette, plagued with his own spiraling thoughts. He could never have predicted the day would end the way it did, and that threw him for a loop. Feelings he so carefully concealed warred inside him. He was not totally put off by the idea of sharing the bed, but he certainly would prefer not to. At least, not then.

He was already on edge from your biting remarks and scathing looks, but he wondered if that flame inside of you ever flickered with other emotions. Or if it was even possible, but perhaps he was just projecting. He was not the most patient of men, and he certainly did not know how to take care of – much less guide – someone. He’d always worked alone, and that was a fate he’d accepted long ago.

But then, there was you, shaking him out of his routine and somehow coaxing him into a state that seemed more present. Like he was finally disengaging autopilot, the days no longer blending into each other. Even if things were not necessarily smooth between the two of you. 

You took your time toweling off and getting dressed, too, just stalling for a little bit longer. Then you heard insistent knocking that immediately broke through your serenity. With another annoyed huff, you stomped over to the front door and yanked it open.

Duncan shouldered his way in, giving you a quick glance over that you chose to ignore. For a moment, you both stood there, unsure of how to proceed. You opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“You can take the bed,” he said gruffly, deciding as soon as he saw you.

You gaped at him, stupefied. You had been braced for an argument, almost eager to defend yourself. But this was the first time since you’d met him that he’d truly taken you by surprise.

You relaxed your posture, clearing your throat as you looked away.

“Are you, um, sure?” You asked mostly out of politeness.

“Yes,” he said.

You nodded slowly, reluctantly muttering, “Thank you.” 

“What was that?”

“I said thank you,” you said louder, your jaw clenching.

He smiled a little in satisfaction, a teasing edge to it. “Nice to know you still have some manners, after all.”

You frowned, glaring up at him as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I could say the same to you, what with you suddenly being so generous.” 

He grunted in response, which could be taken as a touché. You tossed him a pillow and the thin extra blanket that was folded over the comforter.

“I’m exhausted, so I’d advise you not to test me anymore tonight,” you said, sliding under the blankets. 

“Or what?” He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

You held his gaze pointedly. “Do you really want to find out?”

He shook his head, observing you for a moment longer before he let out an amused huff.

“That smart mouth of yours will get you in a lot of trouble someday. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, not the first time I’ve heard that. Doubt it’s gonna be you that does anything about it, though.”

He let out a wry chuckle. “Oh, yes. When trouble comes knocking, I’ll steer clear.”

With that, he dropped what you’d thrown at him and went into the bathroom to shower as well. You pressed your pillow over your face and let out a long groan. He really knew how to push your buttons, but it was especially frustrating that you didn’t think anyone had ever affected you in such a way before.

You pulled the covers up to your chin and turned away from the door, grumbling to yourself. But as you listened to the muffled sound of the water running, exhaustion got the best of you and you drifted into sleep without realizing it.

When Duncan was done, he saw your prone form and tried his best to tiptoe around the room so as not to wake you. He peeked over the side and found himself smiling softly upon seeing your serene expression, which was a rare sight. 

The life you had signed up for was not an easy one, he knew that well. Perhaps he was stalling because he wanted to spare you the worst parts for a little while longer — the loneliness, the constant paranoia and vigilance, the lack of trust.  

Or perhaps he liked having some company a little too much. Even if you always seemed to be ready to chew his head off, he still enjoyed having someone with him on all his travels. The lack of silence was a welcome reprieve.

He slept shallowly for a few hours, but he was woken up by the sound of your shuddering breaths. You’d been woken up by the cold that had crept in as night reached its darkest point, the measly motel sheets too thin for you to generate heat properly. 

He heard you tip-toe towards the heater, cursing under your breath when you realized it was broken. You realized you’d left your jacket in the truck, as well, but you wouldn’t dare venture out there into the freezing night for it. You wanted to punch something in frustration, but you clenched your fists tightly instead.

He shifted on the floor, looking up at your silhouette. “Trouble sleeping?” 

“Aren’t you freezing?” You asked, teeth chattering slightly.

“A little,” he said, already used to finding ways of maintaining body heat.

You stood there for a moment, trying to rub warmth onto your arms. A part of you already knew the solution to your problem, but you didn’t want to voice it. You didn’t think he’d let you live it down if you did.

And yet, he was the one to speak up.

“Do you want me to…?” He trailed off.

The word no was immediately on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. All you wanted was some goddamn rest for at least one night, and if you needed to sacrifice both your pride and your dignity for it… then you would deal with it when daylight came. 

You sighed heavily, resigned. “Not really, but also… yes?”

He stood up with a grunt, tossing his pillow and blanket back on the bed. His heavy footsteps thudded to the other side of it as you reluctantly slid back under the covers. His weight sank his side of the mattress as he lay down and you almost rolled into him.

Quickly, you scooted away as far away as possible, your back nearly hanging off the edge. 

“Alright just – stay on your side, okay? No funny business. I mean it,” you warned. “I’m not afraid to cut your fingers off if you try anything.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t doubt it. But what if it’s you who tries something instead?”

“Oh, you wish,” you huffed, turning away from him. “Good night, Duncan.”

He hummed in response, smiling to himself as he settled on his back. Luckily for the both of you, his presence was enough for the bed to warm up properly. You fell back asleep without much more protest and in your unconscious state, you sought out more of his warmth. Your body inched close to his, and his body involuntarily found itself rolling to one side and enveloping you.

It was almost natural, the way you fit just right in his embrace. It was foolish to pretend you didn’t, in some subconscious way, expect to end up like that. Both of you slept more soundly than you had in a long time.

Early the next morning, when pale tendrils of light filtered in through the thin curtains, you began to wake up to find yourself flush against him. In your half conscious state, you hummed and nestled against him more comfortably, not quite wanting to get up yet. Then slowly, you began to remember just who was holding you. From there, more and more details started to sink in – the top of your head under his chin, your back against his chest, your butt pressed to his…

Your eyes popped open and you drove your elbow back into his chest. With a groan, his arms untangled from around you and you hastily wiggled away from him. He blinked up at you blearily as you glared down at him, noticing that his smell lingered on you. Your face felt like it was on fire. 

“What are you doing!? I told you to stay on your side!” You hissed, still reeling from shock and outrage. 

“I-I’m sorry, I just didn’t notice. Guess we slept pretty deeply,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand. “What time is it?”

He rolled onto his back and it was then that you noticed something bulging underneath the sheets. 

“Oh god… oh my god,” you whispered panickedly, quickly looking away even if the image had seared itself into your mind. “I, um, I don’t know, just get ready okay!? Please let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

He frowned for a moment, confused by your hysterics, but then he noticed his own predicament and tried to cover himself with one large hand. He found himself blushing a little, too, and he grabbed a pillow for extra measure. 

“U-um yes, yes, go ahead and use the bathroom first if you need,” he said. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, running inside and locking the door behind you. You looked at your wide-eyed reflection in the mirror and let out an exasperated breath. You internally cursed yourself for having been weak willed, even if for a moment. Sure, the rest had been worth it, but what about everything else? 

Well, maybe if neither of you mentioned it again, then it would be like it didn’t happen at all… right?

---------

[argg4n]

UPDATED COMM INFO WAHOOOOO

as per usual :0)

will draw:

OCs/dnd characters

gore/horror

multiple characters

established characters/real people

simple backgrounds

can’t/won’t draw:

complex backgrounds (simple backgrounds are negotiable and might have additional fees while shapes/colour blocks are free)

anything too detailed/complicated (up to debate, might cause a price change)

dm me here, on twitter (both @argg4n), on discord (arggan) or email me @ mx.ie0310@gmail.com for inquiries 💖💖

*prices are in usd

☕ ko-fi 🐦twt

terms of service and more samples under the cut 🤙🤙🤙

TOS

comms are for personal/non-commercial use only

additional characters must be on the same canvas, otherwise they’ll be calculated as two (or more) separate comms

payment thru paypal invoice, ko-fi, or gcash if local [dm for php prices ;0)]

payment is either 50% before starting and 50% upon completion OR 100% up front

comms may take an upwards of two months to complete depending on complexity, existing queue, n other factors

rushed comms will have additional fees

comm process:

send me a dm or email

include what you want, references, details, etc (as specific as possible if you can)

after receiving payment, i’ll begin the sketch (ko-fi sketch comms get the sketch straight up, no revisions)

once approved, i’ll begin rendering, wips will be sent throughout :0)

finished comm will be sent thru email and dms :0D

more samples ⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇

also still doing character outfit/ref sheets i just forgot 2 include it up there 👍

[krockat]

it is I, krockat, and i'm crashing into YOU!!

and i am posting my long ass description into a pinned post instead.

also how do you edit in a readmore on mobile. help

Stats:

late mid20s, queer, fucker, experienced tumblr user

Messages Of The Day and Age:

fuckkkkk i fucking love lil weirdo artist queers

and when we get out into a group in the local and support eachother there's like nothing better

gosh fucking I GET now why people say "x should be in the club" cause I WAS and it was fucking THE BEST SHIT EVER

more below the readmore, such as my FAQ and uhh pronoun polls. yup

(there's no dni btw, don't you worry your sweet little head, Mwah <3)

FAQ:

1. tumblruser having badges allegations:

yea its true. i bought them before shit got shitted. so i will also say just say

#westaysilly:3 #tdov #tdor #blm #swisrealw #cripplepunk #🍉 #fromtherivertothesea #crapitalism #enshittification #workersunite

2. why don't you post art anymore?

it's true I barely didn't for years, but recently have been dabbling in posting some!

i also made a community which no one joined because no one could find it, which before I realized I could not rb shit out from it - I posted a bunch of art in.

but hey if you wanna join my community hmu!

it's called the enjoyment enjoyers, we could always use more enjoyers!!

also posting art is scary and i'm working on being more brave :D

3. why don't you reblog more nsft stuff on here?

i ask myself that nearly every day.

like yea, cause nearly every day I have AtLeast a min of scroll time on tumblr and see something hella cool thats nsft.

not that i Don't rb nsft stuff, just not the ones that would truly bare my soul.

who knows, maybe one day I will also be brave enough to post my own nsft stuff! wouldn't that be wicked. I'm hella hot btw.

edit: i changed my pfp to me so the truth is out there. am gonna post more of me so who knows how bold I will build to be!

Good Good Pronouns:

how to pronounce my pronouns, same order:

dae/dem

hen (like chickens, like hen in hen coop [- but i am not of gender chicken. nej, i am of swedish queer gender]

see/sehm (sounds like seize him or see xem which are both great)

say/sir (it's very funny and gender)

Content of Blog:

loads of stuff. long gone are the days of the aesthetic and fandom dichotomy!

but with that said, i do rb fan shit, been on a tf2 buzz lately, but also i will rb even things from fandoms I've not been in at all. I support the arts!!

also art, horror, queer shit, things about all my disabilties (aswell as others #solidarityfucker), memes, politics, and oh yes,

yup this blog often contains nsft things! i find sexuality and intimacy quite fun and confusing. i am still fresh on this. let's have fun!

esp like to rb queer and kinky stuff that just gets to be silly and shameless.

ehh, im working on the shame part for my own, so not the most prominent poster on that. and honestly? in general.

rebogging is however most often Loads

Other things about Moi

so am queer and here for however long this earth will have me

polying most things, creativity, love, and disability. wahooooo

aaand, i am plural! we have been slow burn naturally fusing since this last summer, but we still be we-ing some days. this blog is Mostly just from my perspective, but our my is becoming all our my.

if ya get it, ya get it.

Oh and i am a musician. i make music. I am working on an album! it's fun! I will post it some time in the future!

I've made great progress on it this year, but somethings are slowing further progress, like both my computers dying (aka also my old backup computer.)

But I am still trucking on!! I love music it's my passion and i am gonna finish this album so I can make both my child self and old self and CURRENT (and future) self so super happies!!!

My oldest friend; Tags:

tags are my friends and my sacred truth and liekeepers. i like to taste the words in them. but sometimes that chronic exhaustion hits and then the fast rbs are aboundiful

Muse Applications:

the applications for being mutual muses (this does NOT include mutuals. new mutuals are ALWAYS accepted): have been opened again.

You can send your application through these official channels:

tumblr asks

messages

pigeon or owl bird (owl is a huge extra fee cause the power needs more time to travel far distances)

You will have to prepare two monologues, one of your own choosing, and one that we give to you.

If you move on in the process, there is a live improvisation workshop, where you on the spot show all your talents and skills and shower me with praises.

Last date to apply is whenever I feel like it.

Re: Description errors:

i can't figure out how or why, but my tumblr description is chronically bugging.

it takes no amount of HTML. I even tried commissioning a person once because I thought I just couldn't figure it out. but nah.. it's just plain brokies

Several tumblr functions are chronically bugging for me,

like my following limit (tho i have gotten quite trained at gently penetrating its g-prostate-spot),

and my desktop version (it was completely uneditable and unviewable for me for years)

so, i am so sorry fellow disableds who have had to struggle reading my description. but you know what I said??

NO MORE!!

so pinned post it is.

😔🤟

🌱✔️🌱

[suckinitup]

THE HORRORS !!!!! THE SMEAR !!! BONES AND FLESH AND FINGERS AND A VISIBLY BEATING HEART !!! SURVIVING WOUNDS THAT PASTE-IFY YOU !!! WAHOOOOO

[lycanpunk666]

discovered u bc my friend sent me Beloved Wretch. literally like the first thing I saw when I woke up and checked my phone lol. read it bc yay ezekiel content. had no idea what to expect

uh. I felt physically sick after reading it. this is a compliment btw how DARE you like jesus CHRIST it was absolutely horrible I hated it that was AMAZING horror writing

(and tbh I should've pegged you as a marchives fan when the worms started talking to him, lol)

anyway i was like "alright that was disgusting, what else does this guy have to offerOMG BILLY LOOMIS PFP"

aaaaand now I follow you lol

WAHOOOOO THIS IS SUCH A MASSIVE COMPLIMENT! I’m so flattered, thank you anon! Yes I am a Magnus archives fan! Man this seriously made my morning thank you so much!

I’m so so glad it managed to make you sick (/gen) that was my intention!

You didn’t ask about this but just for fun, in terms of sorting that fic into Smirke’s 14, I’d say that it’s mainly Corruption (ofc. Parasites, worms, deep crawling yearning, general filth) and Lonely (his whole reason for doing what he did was in the pursuit of love and praise and to not be lonely anymore). Arguably the flesh is also there too considering the body horror and self cannibalism but I feel like slapping that designation on distracts from it in a way for some reason.

[outismm]

Red guy DHMIS!

WAHOOOOO THE GUY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’VE MISSED HIM SO DEARLY AAAAAAAAAAAAAA <333333333333 DHMIS was my introduction to Internet Horror so he holds such a special place in my heart <3 I want to give him the biggest hug and keep him safe from everything ever, His little breakdown in the Transport Episode destroyed me. I don’t know if I want to kiss him or if I just want to steal his gender. 1000000/10 he is the most ever

[cquackity]

YIPPEE MY TEACHER SAYS I CAN WRITE ABOUT HORROR WAHOOOOO!!!!

FML i need an essay topic for my english class but the only thing i care about is minecraft roleplay and horror 

[redrikki]

Another Word For Nothing Left to Lose!

I wrote this for round one of @jedifest‘s rogue robin challenge. The idea was to write an open-ended story that the folks in the next round could build on. The original story can be found here. DVD commentary under the cut. 

Qui-Gon Jinn’s body burned and Anakin’s future burned with it. The hair caught first, then the clothes. The body had been doused with some sort of accelerant, but the flesh was still slow to burn. The stench of overcooked meat and broken promises turned Anakin’s stomach and made his eyes water.

I’m no expert, but, from what I understand, unless they pre-dried the body, not only will Qui-Gon take forever to burn, he will smell really unpleasant while he does it.

Anakin tried to blink back his tears, feeling sorrier for himself than he did for Master Jinn. The Jedi was gone, all his troubles ended, but Anakin was stuck with all his troubles just begun. He took a shuddering breath, his lip quivering. If only the man had kept his promises. Anakin would become a Jedi and Master Jinn would free him. That was the deal, the whole reason he’d agreed to leave his mom, but it was all just a steaming pile of bantha shit. The Jedi didn’t want anything to do with him, and now Master Jinn couldn’t free Anakin if he tried.

Anakin began to cry in earnest. The Jedi were gonna sell him for sure. He may be too old and too dangerous to keep around, but he was worth a lot of money. Probably even more now that everyone knew what a good pilot he was. If he was lucky, they’d sell him to racing team, but if he was’t he’d end up with someone worse than Gardulla the Hutt. Unless the Jedi didn’t own him at all. Who knew who Master Jinn’s heir was? Anakin hoped it wasn’t Obi-Wan. The man hated him so much he was sure to sell him someplace awful.

After what Obi-Wan said about Anakin being dangerous, is it any surprise Anakin thinks he hates him?

Obi-Wan turned to look at him as though drawn by Anakin’s thoughts. “Anakin, what’s wrong?” he asked like they weren’t at a funeral. Obi-Wan’s eyes were as dry as Tatooine and his face was almost eerily calm. These stupid Jedi were so against loving people they didn’t even know how to mourn properly. Except, come to think of it, Anakin had heard him call Qui-Gon master. Anakin figured he’d have a hard time faking sad if Watto had died.

“Our Master’s dead.” Anakin rubbed his leaking nose with his sleeve. “Who even owns me now?”


One of the defining features of Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship was their utter failure to understand each other. They both have entirely different understandings of the world. For Anakin, a Master is the person who owns you and you hate and fear them. For Obi-Wan, a Master is your teacher and you love and respect them. 

Obi-Wan recoiled like Anakin had slapped him, his eyes widening in horror. He swallowed hard, his face paling. “What? No. You-” Obi-Wan jerked his head back around towards the fire. His hood hid his face, but Anakin sensed grief, guilt, and anger. He considered apologizing on the off chance that Obi-Wan really was his new owner, but then the man said “No one owns you, Anakin. You’re free.”

Here, Obi-Wan starts to grasp the idea that maybe Anakin has a different understanding of the world then he does. Too bad he doesn’t get it quite enough.

“Oh.” A slow smile spread across Anakin’s face. Master Jinn had kept his promise after all.

****

Freedom was a funny, hollow feeling, like a day without food crossed with that moment between an engine failing and the start of a fall. For the first time in his life, Anakin woke up the morning after Qui-Gon’s funeral with no master to give him orders. Or at least not any orders he had to obey. Obi-Wan certainly tried to boss him plenty. It was all “do this”, “do that", “go wash up,” and “stop fiddling with that droid and eat some breakfast.”

Obi-Wan is bossy. 

Anakin did most of what he was told cause there was no reason not to, but then Obi-Wan told him to stay in their suite while he ran an errand. Well, that wasn’t happening. Anakin didn’t know much about being free, but he did know some things. If you didn’t have a master paying for your food, you needed to buy it yourself. Anakin would have to get a job for that and he certainly wasn’t going to find one here. He’d miss Padmé, but fancy castles didn’t have much need for pod racers or scruffy mechanics. Besides, as long as the Jedi were here, it wasn’t safe to stick around.

They thought he was dangerous, and Anakin knew how the galaxy worked. He’d found a nest of Sand Strangler eggs in the junkyard back when he was six. Anakin had been all for letting them hatch, but Watto wasn’t having any of it. “You don’t let little dangers grow into big ones, Ani,” he’d said. “You crush them before they can crush you.” Then he’d gotten a big old hydrospanner and done just that.

The Council was afraid of Anakin and the threat they thought he could become and so Anakin was afraid of them. I don’t think either group ever lost their fear of each other. I this verse, I’m sure his escape has them scared shitless about what he might be up to outside of their supervision. 

Well, Anakin wasn’t waiting around to get crushed. The second Obi-Wan was out the door, he abandoned the broken battle droid he’d been messing with and started packing. He’d need his tools, of course. After a moment’s hesitation, he scavenged the droid for some of the rarer, lighter parts. They weren’t much use outside of the droid, but he might be able to sell them for some food if he couldn’t find work. He tossed in his second set of small clothes and extra pair of socks. Lastly, he added the rolls and fruit he’d managed to filch from the breakfast tray while Obi-Wan wasn’t looking. He felt bad about stealing the napkin he had wrapped them in and hoped Padmé would forgive him.

I really like the idea of Anakin feeling bad about steeling a napkin. When you have nothing, that’s a big deal.

Before he had left Tatooine, his mom had slipped a japor snippet in the front pouch of his satchel for luck. Anakin took it out now and pressed it to his forehead. “I’m coming back,” he whispered. It wouldn’t be today, and he wouldn’t be a Jedi, but he was going back to Tatooine. Just as soon as he had a ship and a chip scanner, he would steal his mom and Kister and anyone else who wanted to come. That was a promise. He kissed the snippet and dropped it back into the pouch. Then he went to the door and looked up and down the hall.

In addition to putting Anakin in the same suite as Obi-Wan, Padmé’s staff had given the Jedi rooms right across the hall. They would stop him for sure if they caught him trying to escape. It seemed like the coast was clear, but then he heard it, the tap, tap, tap of the little green troll-man’s cane on the floor. Anakin ducked back into the room just as the troll and the bald, dark-skinned human man rounded the corner. They were talking too quietly for Anakin to hear, but what they were saying didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were blocking his only way out of here.

Or were they? Anakin’s room had a window overlooking the city. It was a long way to the ground, but there were two lower towers in between like steps in a giant staircase. Anakin raced to his bedroom and threw open the window. The air outside felt strange, cool and damp with the sharp smell of ozone. The sky to the west was turning dark. Back home that would have meant a sandstorm was about to blow in, but Anakin had no idea what it meant here. Naboo didn’t exactly have a lot of sand.

Once again, have a moment of missed signals. Anakin doesn’t have the right context to understand what a storm on Naboo looks like. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Anakin hoisted himself up through the window and onto the narrow ledge. He nearly overbalanced with the weight of his satchel, but managed to catch himself on the window frame. “Whoah,” he gasped, his heart pounding. He was a lot higher up than he had thought, and the lower tower wasn’t exactly close either.

Going into this, I had a very clear image in my head of the escape, but I wasn’t really sure how to articulate it. I always feel a bit shy when writing any real action sequences. I think it came out more or less okay. 

Biting his lip, Anakin glanced longingly back at the room over his shoulder. If only the Jedi would leave, but he could sense them in the Force, waiting. He couldn’t just walk out the door, he had to make this jump. It was like his mom said, wish all you want, but work with what the galaxy gives you. Anakin took a deep breath and turned back. Qui-Gon said he had Force powers and Qui-Gon had never lied to him. He could do this. The Force was with him. His focus determined reality.

Anakin takes Qio-Gon at his word without quite understanding what it means. It’s a running theme.

Gripping the window frame, Anakin leaned back to build up some momentum. His hands were slick with sweat. Focus determined reality. “The Force is with me, the Force is with me,” he chanted and flung himself into the air.

“Wahooooo, ugh.” Anakin’s breath was driven from his lungs as he slammed into the dome of the lower tower. He started to slide down, but, after some frantic scrambling, managed to pull himself to the top. The wind had picked up and the sky was a dark grey, but it didn’t feel ominous. If anything, the cool breeze felt refreshing after the terror of the jump. The next tower was even farther away, but Anakin knew he could make it. There was plenty of space for a running start, and besides, the Force was with him.

By this point, Anakin is having fun with the running and jumping and flying. Wheeee!

The last tower was a story-and-a-half to the ground. Anakin fell like a feather and landed on the softest grass in the galaxy. They sky opened up the second he touched the ground. It took him a second to realize what was happening. He’d heard spacer stories about it, but he’d never imagined rain like this. Every drop felt like a wet kiss across his face and hair. It was a welcoming, a blessing. Laughing, Anakin spread his arms wide and let the rain wash away the last dust of Tatooine and slavery.

I loved this image. I’m so proud of how it turned out. 

****

Despite his best efforts, Obi-Wan didn’t make it back to the palace before the rain. It had proved ridiculously difficult to find a child-sized Jedi tunic in Theed. Of course the Council hadn’t brought one, and it seemed that not even Naboo peasants would be caught dead wearing something so plain. The seamstress Obi-Wan had eventually found to make it had asked him repeatedly if he was sure he didn’t want another color or at least some embroidery before finally taking his word for it. Anakin didn’t need a Jedi tunic. They could do the Padawan-bonding ceremony in the same foul clothes he’d worn since Tatooine, but Obi-Wan wanted this done right. He owed Qui-Gon that much.

Obi-Wan took on Anakin because of his love to Qui-Gon. Eventually, he came to love Anakin in his own right, but he’s not there yet. 

Shaking the rain off his cloak, Obi-Wan stepped into the suite. “Anakin,” he called as he dropped the cloak to the floor. Qui-Gon would have made him hang it up to dry, but he could do that while Anakin got changed. Where was that boy? “Anakin?”

The broken battle droid he’d been mucking around with was still sprawled across the sitting room floor, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had taken a nap. Thunderstorms often made Obi-Wan sleepy, maybe they had the same effect on Anakin.

Obi-Wan tapped on the bedroom door, but received no reply. He huffed and knocked harder. “Anakin, get out here right now. I have something for you.” Still no answer, so he opened the door and stepped inside.

Anakin wasn’t there. The cold rain blew in through the open window to form a puddle on the floor. Anakin’s tunic slipped from Obi-Wan’s nerveless fingers. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

You done screwed up, son. In the movie, Obi-Wan tells Anakin straight up that he’s his master now. In this, Obi-Wan assures him he’s free and fails to mention that he’ll be Obi-Wan’s new student. Obi-Wan was planning on surprising him. Jokes on him.