#bc it promises the power and control they don't currently see in their lives

[telepathicfeline]

You all do know that there’s a middle ground between “men are inherently evil, society has nothing to do with it” and “men aren’t at fault for their actions, they are hurt just as much (if not more) by patriarchy than women?”

[thelostguardianau]

The Lost Guardian- Chapter Eight

“Heed the Silenced”

(Authors note: aha.. yknow I should probably stop making promises for this fic. Months later, w/ a chapter that doesn’t have Thomas in it, three different outlines down and i’m really just at the mercy of this fic at this point xD considering midway through writing this chapter I had to cut and rewrite an entire scene i’d spent a month on bc I’d decided that Dee had a chance at redemtion that added an actual direction and a tangable end goal to this story. So. Yeah. And!! A loud Thank You!! to @bumblebeekitten for helping me bounce ideas back & forth for this au and being my beta for this chapter!!)

Character Info & Art:

Patton | Logan | Roman | Virgil | Remy | Deceit | ??? | ???

Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Pairings: Eventual Polyamsanders (LAMPR/CALMR-a.k.a LAMP/CALM + Remy ‘Sleep’ Sanders)

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA DIALOG HEAVY!(sorry) Currently depicted as morally grey Deceit(subject to change in future chapters), though the side of Deceit from his first appearance doesnt make an appearance in this chapter and it is explained why, mentions of past betrayal and dark descriptions of bodily concepts, curses, limitations, and changes only really explained as possible through the lore of this au. Deceit speaks in riddles because he has to, ominous warnings. Virgil still isn’t okay mentally. Mentions of indifference to death, lack of selfworth or self preservation. (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

[[MORE]]

Brown eyes flutter open at the chilly breeze of a fan, and the ravenette’s mind comes to realize that he’s been moved from resting on his stomach to laying on his back. Groggy from his much too short nap, it takes a few moments to realize there are no warm bodies near him or under him, no breathing or chatter of familiar voices to sooth him.

The room, he realizes, is empty.

The room itself is, in fact, not Remy’s bedroom at all.

Shooting straight up, Virgil’s first clear thought is that he’s back at home. At his apartment, this time in his hoodie yet still roughed up from his latest ‘adventure’. The scene is eerily familiar, and yet he knows this time that work is not where he needs to be. It’s already daylight and his mind now knows this familiar scene, he should feel alone. Yet, this time he can hear the sound of honking cars and people, his loud neighbor from upstairs stomping around.

It doesn’t make sense as he walks to his window and peers out to see vague cars and people, he can’t even seem to make out any individual faces. It’s grey and raining outside, but there is no pattering sound against the foggy window. ‘What’s happening?’ Virgil wonders.

“Life seemed so simple a week ago, even months ago, did it not..?” A familiar voice drifts from behind him. Ice cold fear shoots down the ravenette’s spine as he recognizes the voice.

“I can hardly believe you were able to leave it, your routine. It was your everything, back when you came to terms with what you had left. Am I wrong, Virgil?” Whirling around to face the voice, Virgil finds the terrifying ex-Guardian sitting on his couch looking quite at home, if a little sheepish.

“What do you care?” He spat back, stepping back against his window.

“I am only looking out for you, you know. I have been protecting you all your life. Of all people I think I would know what is best for you, don't you think? We are connected after all, you and I.” The man sighed, making a surrendering motion with his hands.

“Why would I trust you?! You tried to kill me yesterday!” Virgil growled. “Why--h-how are you even here!?”

“False, my dear Virgil. I tried to warn you. Sure,” The guardian rolled his hand as he spoke, “I am forced to have a round-about way of speaking my truths, it is just part of my consequences it seems. But how else was I going to get you to listen to me after the others fed you lies about me? I do sincerely apologize for my other half being rough, though. I cannot quite.. Control.. Him.” The guardian tilted his bowler hat down to guiltily hide his eyes, regret briefly twisting his expression.

Finally the Guardian stood, dusting himself off as if his immaculate attire had acquired dust from just existing in his apartment. “I needed my physical body to reach yours and make our soul connection strong again, so that my soul could reach yours. However.. The pain I caused you was far from my intention. I am deeply regretful that it came down to.. That awful encounter.

“To answer your question though, Virgil, I am here because I created ‘here’. A realm made to form this illusion of being home, sweet home, just on the corner of the little street you had come to live on for the past year. It is all my doing. Where you stand is simply an illusion only you and I can access, a manipulation of your dreams and memories. The only place where the real me can talk to you mostly unhindered.” The guardian gestured to his surroundings.

“It takes only one person to flip your life on it’s head, a matter of hours to make the decision of a lifetime, and a matter of days to have completely changed your life’s direction,” He turned to Virgil, and looked him straight in the eyes, feeling distant and lost.

“And only a matter of years to succumb to the depression of the lonely consequences..”

Virgil blinked at that. The sad, longing tone had him thrown for a loop; it almost felt like the Guardian wasn't even quite talking to Virgil. “I-What..? I.. I don’t understand.”

The Guardian shook his head, snapping out of it and refocusing himself. "Nevermind that. It is time I talked to you for real, if you will have me?" The Guardian held out a hand politely, though there was no real expectation for Virgil to take it.

After a pause, Virgil gave a slight nod, still suspicious of the other's intent. The Guardian returned the nod, and his hand fell to his side.

“I am limited to the time that you rest and for now I will not be able to explain myself thoroughly, so, I ask you to understand that I do not expect you to trust me when I am done. I honestly do not expect you to ever trust me. With the mistakes I have made, I firmly believe I would not deserve it.”

Virgil blinked in surprise, not having expected his captor to admit to his faults straight off the bat.

“Okay.. Well, we’re here, might as well hear your side of the story. So.. Shoot.” Virgil said lightly, distrust and suspicion still evident in his tone and stance.

“I would assume at this point you are well aware of how the story you have been told paints me as the villain, a mastermind seeking power, immortality, and revenge? At least, that is what I am led to believe is still the story, it has been many years since I have heard the tale first hand… And... Well. Would that not be so lovely?” Virgil made a face, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I am serious. Life would be so much easier if it was all black and white, true or false, good and bad, would it not? If those who meant well knew everything and those malicious few could not corrupt anything?” The Guardian frowned a bit, frustrated with his words that couldn’t seem to cooperate with him.

“Would it not be lovely if I could talk to you without fighting to keep from turning every honest thought into a question or theoretical statement just to let it be said? That my words could hold a meaning not forcibly disguised in the forms of fables and riddles?” The Guardian looked down lamely, his words tapering off in agitation. For a moment, Virgil waited as the Guardian was silent, contemplative. Then, the next moment the Guardian’s face scrunched up in sadness and his words were soft as he placed a hand over his golden wrist markings.

“My story is complicated, and twisted with shades of grey. One could say what I did was an attempt to keep you safe, another could say that what I did was outlandish and impulsive, and stupid. But no one will be able to tell you that what I did went according to the plan I had... at first. No one will tell you that my intention was to save you, to keep your fate safe. No one will tell you that my plan was ruined. Because there is no longer anyone who remembers what happened that night except for me,”

The Guardian’s eyes flicked up to meet the ravenette’s, a hurt look passing over his face as he continued. His steady voice now just barely trembled with uncertainty as he continued.

“No one but me and the soul who wants so desperately for everyone to forget. The soul who ripped my own in two to bury the secret, and ruin you and I both.”

“My final warning is this: Beware of the man who carries the world on his shoulders unflinchingly, he will be watching you closely. You have immunity to his power thanks to our connection, you might use this knowledge well to find the truth that lies in plain sight. However, your fate lies in the decisions you chose to make with this knowledge, I can only warn you of what might come.” The Guardian nodded solemnly, choosing to finish his cryptic warning there.

Virgil stood there, reeling with the information. Sure, he definitely wasn’t completely convinced he could trust this cryptic stranger, Guardian? Foe? Friend? Virgil wasn’t really sure what to call him anymore. But damn, his life was already so fucking crazy, this was all just fucking crazy! He could just be dreaming for all he knew.

But… Deep inside, he was hoping he wasn’t.

This was, well. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear when facing the man whose, er, body? Had originally tried to strangle him? Now he’d heard his sob story and, well, Virgil wasn’t that easy to fool, but he’d also been told that it wasn’t expected that he’d trust the guy even in the end and he didn’t really want to.

He’d been on the path to death for so long, and then just two days ago everything had changed. So much was happening, it was frankly exhausting. What the fuck was he, some book protagonist? Couldn’t he get a little time to think about all this before he went crazy?

Still, something under all his incredulity begged to hear the guardian out. He vaguely wondered how Stockholm Syndrome worked before he gave in a little. What difference did a little more crazy make in his life at this point?

“Fine, I’ll heed your warning, or whatever the fuck. But only if you can tell me what you mean when you said that this guy ripped your, uh, soul? In two.” Virgil huffed, partially relaxing. It was odd how comforting he found it to be, floating in this weird feeling imaginary world, where he could interact with objects that weren’t real. It felt like he was really standing in his home, and yet it was just built from memory.

The guardian’s solemn expression formed into a grim smile, eyes distant once more before nodding. “I will do the best that my words will allow.” Virgil nodded, and waited for the now very familiar stranger to gather his words and take a breath. Then he began, his markings lightly flashing gold.

“You find yourself whole one day, as you have always been. To be whole of body, whole of mind, both human and guardian in nature. To have conscious thought and control over your whole physical being and soul..

“You find that yourself and others of the winged variety are capable of separating your soul from your being, though only the most Elite can do it well. You find out the family you made would soon be in danger. You then find yourself lost and alone when you once had a home to call your own.

“You find yourself knowing a truth, a perilous truth. Your home is in shambles now that you are gone, yet they do not know it. This truth is at fault, but the blame is not fully your own in a world built on lies.

“The source of truth tucks itself into blankets of grey, drawing itself further from discovery with each passing day. Now only you know the truth. The source of the truth finds you, it seeks to hide you too.

“You find yourself split one day, as you have never been before. Forced apart from the body, trapped within the mind. Guardian in nature, to have conscious thought and your dying soul trapped within, a false mind piloting the puppeteered confines of a broken body with a blind goal.”

“You find you cannot control what you used to, you are a prisoner to a body that is no longer your own, mostly unconscious to the world around it. Crazed by the false emotions that fuel it.”

“The you that used to be is no longer, and has not been for over a hundred years. The world that knew you knows not of what you’ve become. Knows not of the shackles that bind you.

“The you that used to be is no longer, and will never be again.” The Guardian finished, hesitant yellow eyes meeting Virgil’s carefully. Phantom goosebumps trail down Virgil's arms as the final sentence strikes a cord in him.

Virgil found he really wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, the rawness in the other’s tone spoke volumes of the sore spot they’d reached.

“Your body rests, but your mind also needs time to process today. I shall see you when you next rest, though only if you wish to seek me. Rest well knowing that you will not be scooped from your safety once more, as I hope I’m never to do so again. And...” The guardian paused, considering their next words very carefully.

“I know it is selfish to ask... but, I hope and wish that Thomas is alright, after all this time... Do take care of him, would you?”

Virgil paused and stared, finding only concern and longing in the guardian’s expression. And, well, fuck. What a way to pull at a guy’s heartstrings.

“Er, yes. Yeah. I’ll try my best.” Virgil gave his signature mock salute, the Guardian tipping his hat in return.

“Trying is all I could ever ask of you, Virgil. Rest well, you will need it.” And with that final sentence, the world around Virgil gently grew dark, and he sunk into the comforting arms of sleep.

Despite it all, Virgil still found his mind vaguely conscious. Sluggish at best, but awake nonetheless.

He figured it was likely some lingering effect from the Guardian’s dream realm, but didn’t dwell on it. His life had way too much else going on to be debating the side effects gained from Guardian powers.

First, he’d been pretty damn convinced two days ago that he was going to be a goner by the end of the month. Completely resigned to die believing that his very existence was scorned by the world he’d been unwillingly born into.

Then Patton had stumbled onto his shitty apartment’s roof, found him in all of his resigned and depressed glory, and changed his life forever.

They’d mostly skipped the whole ‘Human nature is a series of life, death, and rebirth’ spiel that guardians were known to give in these situations because... Well, It wasn’t like they’d really had time to address it before the truth about his soul had come out. That he wasn’t exactly human to begin with.

Virgil didn’t think that Guardians had ever had a situation like his before. There wasn’t a protocol for comforting a kidnapped guardian soul. It’d never been a possibility before!

So it wasn’t surprising then, that Virgil didn’t have any better of a time processing it.

His whole life, all that he’d known to be true, all that he’d believed in? Everything had been uprooted and turned on its head. He’d apparently been living a life that was not supposed to be.

Perhaps for the first time in two days, Virgil realized that the thought of his death at the end of the month had not been consistently worming into his brain. It had once been something he could never seem to stop thinking about.

The death indicated by his soul timer was now perhaps the farthest thing from his mind.

Perhaps the strangest thing so far was that he wasn’t alone anymore. He’d possibly had more physical contact with other people in the short two(three?) days since this adventure started then he’d had in the past 16 years.

And wasn’t it just the cherry on top that he’d also gotten nearly choked out by the very guardian accused of kidnapping his soul in the first place? And now he was considering trusting the damn guy.

Virgil hollowly wondered why he even cared.

Why did he care about staying alive now when he’s spent his whole life believing he never would? Up until two days ago, that belief had still been true. But now? Avoiding death was the goal, Logan had stated as much.

Really, would Virgil lose anything by trusting the banished guardian? Even if the guardian was trying to trick Virgil and got him killed, what difference would it make? That’d always been the goal before. What did he, Virgil, really have to lose?

If it happened that Virgil lived past his twentieth birthday, if he became a guardian like he was supposed to be in the first place. Would he want that? Did he want that?

He wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if he ever had been.

His life had been built on resignation to the inevitable. Nothing seemed to motivate him towards liking or hating that possibility. He was just that.

Indifferent.

And wasn’t that just the greatest revelation of the night? Finding out that you’re indifferent to living or dying.

Once this was all over, if Virgil lived that long, he would make a note to see a therapist. He knew very well that this kind of mindset was unhealthy to keep. It just couldn’t be helped that the nineteen years he’d lived with this particular affliction couldn’t be fixed by a few extra hugs and comforting words.

Even if he didn’t like the fact that death sounded like the more peaceful option.

His thoughts paused, mentally sighing at the downward spiral he’d caught himself in. It was tiring, and going nowhere.

‘For now,’ he decided, ‘I’m just going to see how this plays out. The Guardian said that none of the others remember the truth, or whatever. So, It’s a ‘he said-they said’ situation right now...’

‘I’ll have to keep an eye out for the guy that he warned me about, then. Who knows if he's as dangerous as The Guardian made him out to be. It’s hard to tell with the weird way he has to talk..’

Virgil paused again, a realization striking him. If he could have groaned, he would have. Not once had he been given or even remembered to ask for the name of said Guardian. What was he supposed to call the rogue Guardian now? He couldn’t just keep calling him The Guardian!

Amidst the disbelief of such a slip up, a foreign yet familiar feeling prodded questioningly at his conscious mind. Adding confusion into the mix of emotions, he returned the feeling with a questioning thought of his own.

He briefly heard the Guardian’s whispy voice once more, now acting with permission.

“You may call me Janus”

Then all at once, Virgil woke up.

.

.

.

Chapter Nine

[duckie-baby]

let's talk about s02e08: the sins of the father.

let's talk about how this could've been a pivotal point in arthur's character arc, if the writers of this show weren't fucking cowards.

let's talk about how it was completely unfair on merlin's part to lie to arthur, because arthur deserved the truth goddamnit and it wasn't merlin's place to take that away from him.

of course, this is later justified by merlin saying that he knows arthur and that he wouldn't be able to live with himself or the guilt of it if he had gone ahead and killed his father. and of course, like every other potentially life-changing event, all of this is never mentioned by the show again.

magic is damned even further in arthur's eyes, uth*r threatens everyone who knows the truth into silence, vaguely implies that he's totally chill with his son fucking his manservant as long as they're all of the same anti-magic ideals, the episode ends in all smiles.

but whew! at least arthur's been protected from the harsher sides of reality, once again! god forbid this character gains any sense of self-awareness!

my point is, if all of this was to keep arthur from killing daddykins bc it would weigh on his delicate conscience, to preserve the Goodness Of His Character As A Man And King, why the fuck should merlin have to lie to him about it?

consider, instead of:

Morgause is lying! She's an enchantress. She tricked you. That was not your mother you saw. That was an illusion. Everything...everything your mother said to you...those were Morgause's words.

we could have had something along the lines of:

What your father did was wrong, Arthur, but is this man the man you want to be? The king you want to be? Would you be able to ascend the throne even as your father's blood glistens, still fresh, on your sword? Would you be able to live with yourself if you made this decision?

if he kills his darling father anyway, honestly, Good For Him. he has every right to. uth*r went through with a dangerous spell despite knowing the risks, then commited genocide in its name whilst lying about his reason as to why.

uth*r has commited genocide.

he is not a good king or father either, as proven several times throughout the show. he deserves no mercy, no pity.

but the choice should've been arthur's to make. this scene should've been a testament to arthur's character.

if he kills daddy dearest anyways but then feels Super Guilty about it later, we know he wouldn't have made a good king. you can't head a country when you're prone to making drastic decisions without thinking them through bc you were throwing pissy fit at the time.

so if he still goes through with it, he must not been shown to regret it.

but say he does let uth*r live. maybe for whatever love remains for the man who raised him. but he renounces him as his king, as his father.

arthur starts publicly going against his policies and decisions. bc if uth*r could have been so wrong about this alone, what else is he wrong about? arthur refuses to carry out his orders if he believes it’s against the interests of the people.

raising taxes? how about No. oh, he can’t knight commoners? just Try and stop him. he learns to trust in the counsel of merlin, gwen, morgana, people who we know interact direct directly with the citizens of camelot and want what’s best for them; builds his own circle. he routinely breaks out prisoners from the dungeons he believe have been punished unjustly.

especially the people who use magic. he openly speaks out against his father and his persecution of it.

uth*r can try and stop him, alright. but there is a clear rift in the kingdom now, two distinct factions. those who believe in the king that arthur will be, and those who believe their loyalty is still to the current monarch.

and look at these people, from the execution scene from s01e01:

look at their faces (and also hnfvbdjh colin morgan and his obscene fucking cheekbones jesus christ). they don't seem to appreciate uth*r saving them from the evils of magic much. how many of them have lost their friends and family to his crusade? how many of them remember a time when magic was still allowed in camelot and the kingdom flourished?

these people will stand with arthur pendragon.

yeah. the ones who still believe in uth*r’s authority are few and far in between. and they know where they can shove it.

arthur learns. about magic, about its history, the old religion. merlin finally reveals his magic to him, so does morgana. he goes to the druids and he falls to his knees and he begs for their forgiveness. morgause begrudgingly allies herself with him, seeing his determination to right his father’s mistakes. he still struggles with the little boy within him who just wants his only parent’s approval, sometimes. but he is slowly but surely becoming his own man.

arthur becomes king long before he takes the throne. uth*r is forced to watch, a meaningless figurehead, as everything he worked to achieve comes undone at the hands of his own son. no attempts to make the viewers sympathise with him. he is angry and miserable and wasting away and there is nothing he can do about it; and it’s exactly what he fucking deserves.

and merlin? merlin finally realises kilgharrah’s word isn’t gospel. morgana is redeemed before she ever loses herself. but they must learn to trust each other again, bc merlin left her to face her fear and self-loathing alone when she needed someone more than ever (you might be cute, merlin, but not enough to get away with THAT). he finds himself taking young sorcerers who don’t know how to control their power under his wing (gilli, daegal, oh god the endless opportunities here), including mordred. MORGAUSE TEACHING MERLIN AND MORGANA MAGIC.

he and arthur are equals now, partners in destiny; the world is theirs.

and for the love of god, give me villains whose entire personality and motivations don’t boil down to I Hate Uth*r Pendragon And Also His Son.

give me kings who are afraid of camelot’s growing power, give me bandits and slave traders who realise they have no place in arthur and merlin’s albion. give me uth*r apologists scrambling to maintain their position in court, hell, give me anarchist organisations if that’s what it takes to spice things up a little.

give me the golden age of albion we were promised.

of course, all of this requires characters acknowledging and growing from their mistakes, and making their actions have lasting consequences — so i suppose it really is a bit too much to ask of the writers.

[fairycosmos]

I don't think I can live in this family any longer. My older sister is emotionally abusing the hell out of me and I don't know what to do about it. she's wrecked me. My parents do realize but she doesn't change her behaviour and blames me instead. She never apoligizes. she humiliates me in front of others. I'm afraid of her, I hate her, I can't do anything right when I'm around her. I never want to talk to her or see her again. what do I fucking do? does anyone have similar experiences?

god, i’m so fucking sorry you have to deal with that, holy shit. you’re definitely not the only person who has had to live with an abusive figure - a lot of people can relate to that, a lot of people have survived that and you are genuinely not alone. the fact that your parents aren’t stepping up and doing something about it is crazy and completely unacceptable. i think that the fact that you’ve handled this for so long and that you’ve managed to get through it speaks volumes about the strength of your character and the type of person you are, seriously. i’m assuming you’re too young to move out, and if there’s no other family members that you’re able to go and live with, then the only option is to distance yourself from the house and your sister as much as you’re able to. i know it’s not the perfect solution, and i know it’s not ideal, but it’s still not a hopeless situation and you’re still going to get through it, i promise. try to spend the least amount of time around your house and your sister as you can - take long walks, find places that bring you peace (libraries, parks, cafes), stay out late with friends, maybe even join a club or something at school so you can spend more time there. don’t let your sister in your personal bubble anymore. she’s not worth it. i get that it feels like a lot of effort, but you shouldn’t have to remain in an uncomfortable environment for any longer than you’re required to, you know? that’s really what it comes down to. also, try to stop engaging with your sister all together. when you see her or whenever she talks to you, tune her out, look straight through her and show her that you don’t care. at this point, what she thinks doesn’t matter bc it’s all coming from a bitter place of negativity and resentment, so don’t give her actions the power to impact you or get in your head anymore. she doesn’t matter, and eventually she’s not even going to be a part of your life so even if you have to force yourself to, just keep ignoring her. i get that it hurts, and that she’s your sister so you’re naturally going to crave a better relationship w her, but there comes a point where you just have to stop and tell yourself that enough is enough. you don’t need to deal w her bullshit anymore. you don’t need to be scared of her, or annoyed by her, or embarrassed by her - she’s nothing.

look, i don’t know why she’s chosen to treat you like this and i don’t know why she thinks she has the right to, but please know that her actions and words are always a reflection of her, and never of you. it’s not your fault. she sounds like a fkn bad person and how she chooses to act is completely out of your hands, but that doesn’t mean you have to put up with it. exercise the control you do have by doing what’s right for yourself and your own happiness, okay? and keep complaining to your parents about it, keep letting them know that it’s not okay and don’t let her bully you into complete silence. try to convince them to partake in some sort of family therapy, or form of punishment for your sister when she does something shitty. detaching yourself from the situation and from her poisonous attitude doesn’t mean you have to stop telling your parents what’s going on. i know it’s all a lot easier said than done, but until you’re old enough to move out or until the opportunity arises, the best way to handle it is to disconnect from it as much as you physically can, unless your family starts to accept that things need to change. and even when your mind is telling you that you can’t keep going, that you can’t deal w it anymore, take a deep breath and try to realize that you can. every moment that you get through is an achievement, and it brings you one step closer to a better future - one that doesn’t hold your abusive sister or any of that shit. there will come a day when you’re going to be able to live your life freely and on your own terms and you’re going to be so much happier than you can even comprehend right now, so don’t let her take that away from you. even if the current circumstances feel like the most permanent thing in the world, they’re not. what you’ve experienced so far is only a very small percentage of your life, and there’s still so much to come that will make getting through all of this crap feel worth it. i promise. you’re so much stronger than you think you are, dude. i’m going to leave some links that might offer additional guidance and advice bc like i said, a lot of people can relate to what you’re going through and there is a lot of support out there, even if it doesn’t feel that way rn. also, i’m always here if you need someone to talk to - just message me.

http://www.sheknows.com/health-and-wellness/articles/975519/how-to-deal-with-bullies-and-abusive-family-members

https://www.dumblittleman.com/how-to-overcome-emotional-abuse/

https://www.focusonthefamily.com/lifechallenges/abuse-and-addiction/understanding-emotional-abuse/healing-the-wounds-of-emotional-abuse

https://www.mentalhelp.net/advice/abusive-older-sister/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/growing-friendships/201512/sibling-abuse-and-bullying

[delicatefury]

evil author day: oh my god i'm just imaging three-year-old anakin and eighteen-year-old obi-wan meeting again for the first time and it being so terribly emotional and they don't let go of each other for HOURS. how would everyone react? i can see it being super public bc there is no way little ani would waste even a second after feeling his Very Important Person nearby

So, someone else asked a pretty similar question, so I’m gonna put part I here and part II on theirs. Here’s what happens when Anakin almost finds his Very Important Person in a Very Public Place.

The first attempt isn’t very successful.

Anakin was so proud of himself, and he knows his person will be proud too once he can find them, that he made his way to the Jedi Temple all on his own. Well, not entirely on his own. He’s still not sure how he did it, but Anakin knows he was the one to bring the Jedi to Tatooine. That he called Masters Giiett and Koon off of their normal Search somehow so they’d come find him and bring him to the temple and free Mom.

He still smiles at night at how mad Gardulla had gotten. The Jedi had obviously cheated her at Sabaac, but she couldn’t prove it. She’d lost a lot of slaves trying to save face.

He thought his important person might like that. Tricking and talking and convincing instead of forcing someone do the right thing. Mom certainly did. He’d never seen her so happy. He still wishes she had come with them, but Mom had laughed and waved the Jedi off before hugging him goodbye. She said they needed to help a lot more people, so her job was to stay there and finish helping the rest. And his important person needed Ani, so he had to go help them. But the Jedi promised Ani he could write her. Once he knows how to write.

So he made his own way to the Jedi Temple to find his person, but it turns out they weren’t even here. He can tell they live in the Temple, he knows it, but they weren’t here. So he has had nothing to do but wait.

He’s waited four months. Practically forever. But it’s almost over. He can feel them, a little sad, a little lonely, but glad to be heading home. They’re coming. They’re coming. They’re coming!

Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu look over at their young charge. Initiate Skywalker is bouncing from foot to foot, impatience written all over his face. When the creche master had commed that morning, Mace hadn’t been sure what to expect. Ever since the boy had arrived, picked up during an impromptu deviation from the Search of the Arkanis sector talking Plo and Micah’s ears off about a certain Jedi he’d been hoping to find, he’d subtly started turning the temple on its head.

The problem is, the boy is insanely powerful. Rather, he has the potential to be extraordinarily powerful. With overwhelming dreams and visions that he projects to the other unguarded crechelings on an irregular basis, terrifying both himself and them, finding a knight or master the boy trusts to teach him a little control has quickly become a priority.

Except the boy refuses to be taught by anyone but a particular Jedi; the one he’d come to the Temple to find. The crechemasters had thought little of it when he’d first insisted. It wasn’t unheard of for initiates to attach themselves to a Jedi they had seen on their home planet or who had brought them to the Temple. It became an issue when Skywalker had been asked to describe the Jedi. Instead of giving gender, or hair color, or even species, the boy had declared the Jedi he was looking for to be “The Greatest Jedi in the Temple,” and the Force rang with the truth of his statement. The crechemaster at least had the sense to bring in Master Yoda before talking to anyone else. Perhaps because they thought the boy was talking about the Grandmaster. It wasn’t Master Yoda, though the old troll had laughed it off.

“Too old to be the Greatest, I am. Let you young ones fight it out, I shall.”

“Fighting it out” is exactly what Mace is hoping to avoid. Servants of the Force, they may be, but Jedi are still mere sentients, and ego is a problem any time words like “The Greatest” are thrown around. So instead, helping Initiate Skywalker has become a personal, quiet project of the Grandmaster and Head of the Order. Under the guise of helping the boy with his visions, as they’d done for others in the past, Master Yoda and Mace have been subtly introducing Anakin to the best and brightest the order has to offer.

Yet no one seems to impress. It appears that the boy is convinced said Jedi is currently off planet. Until this morning, when he had told the crechemaster that the Jedi is returning today.

Which is why all three of them are standing at one of the Temple’s hangars, during the busiest traffic point of the day, waiting for this potentially Greatest Jedi to return from whatever the hells mission had kept them away for at least four months. Mace had checked the roster, to see who all was scheduled to return, but he knows from experience that that means little. The Force has it’s own ways and it wasn’t unheard of for knights to be sidetracked on their returns or to finish early just in time to be assigned a mission they would have otherwise missed.

Suddenly the boy stills. Mace’s Force sense snaps into alertness, and he immediately goes on the lookout for shatter-points. Skywalker is a mess of them, as usual, some of immediate concern, most far off. The one beginning to coalesce into a priority seems to be tied to an old rundown freighter of the sort a certain Jedi prefers to hitch rides on whenever he has the chance.

He can feel the groan that he’ll never let out build in his chest. No. Please, Force, no. Not him. They’ll never hear the end of it if the Jedi Skywalker is looking for is him.

The door to the transport opens and a pair of Jedi, master and padawan, descend. They both look the worse for wear: robes threadbare, hair and beards overgrown and unkempt, but glowing with the knowledge of a mission well completed. The padawan is partially hidden by his master, speaking one last time with their pilot, no doubt, but Mace is glad to see a bit of confidence in the boy’s step. The extended mission seems to have done him some good.

Mace and Yoda step forward to greet the pair.

The Unifying Force, maker of bonds, giver of prophecy, indicator of shatterpoints, swells in the hanger. The mass of Jedi of the hanger all seem to slow down or stop in their tasks, knowing that something is about to happen, that the galaxy may just change in the next instant. All eyes have begun to migrate their way.

Their young charge sends a sudden burst of panic into the Force.

Mace looks to where Initiate Skywalker has hidden himself behind his knees. The boy’s eyes are fixed on the transport, wide and unseeing.

“I can’t,” Skywalker whispers, before suddenly turning tail and fleeing back into the temple proper.

Immediately, Mace can feel his Jedi’s attention shift back to their work and paths. Master Yoda turns to Mace and indicates that he will take the initiate back to the creche. Mace should go meet his old friend, leaving the Head Master to unofficially debrief the returned pair. Mace internalizes a heavy sigh.

Just great. Not only does he have an upset youngling who’s terrified of his own supposed teacher, but of all the Jedi to attach oneself to, the “Greatest Jedi” turns out to be the one with the most inconsistent padawan track record, Jedi Maverick Qui-Gon Jinn.