#full name chancellor

[crassinova]

Writing this just in case, the mysterious stranger you see in my account is an oc. Since the stranger in canon has Just eeny weeny atom sized story i decided to put my whole ass and blood to making some story that it just turned into an oc.

[sforzesco]

The Art of Dreams: Reflections and Representations

The Tomb of Caterina della Ratta and the Iconography of the Reclining Reader in Renaissance Sepulcharl Art, Yonni Ascher

Ancestor Masks and Aristocratic Power in Roman Culture, Harriet I Flower

okay so just. play connect the dots with me for a second. Girolamo Basso della Rovere is Giuliano della Rovere's (Pope Julius II) cousin. Ascanio Sforza was a long time rival, and later ex-enemy of Giiuliano's. this kind of familial mirroring in the tombs, the way that Ascanio is being subsumed into a matching visual with someone of della Rovere's family is. interesting. because it goes well beyond the expected patron-client relationship between the pope and his cardinals. like, these were companion monuments.

there's also a kind of tragic romantic violence to it, given Ascanio's persistent loyalty to his family and Milan, and Ludovico's plans to have Ascanio's body brought back to Milan in the event of his death and interred in the same chapel as Beatrice d'Este.

[david-talks-sw]

Dooku didn't leave because of the Jedi.

At least, if you're going by George Lucas' word.

In deleted scenes of Attack of the Clones, when we learn about Dooku's departure and his values, there's no mention of the Jedi or "the Jedi Order as an institution".

And every time Lucas refers to Dooku's disenchantment and reason for falling, he doesn't mention the Jedi.

"When you realize that Dooku is Darth Tyranus, it explains what Darth Sidious did after Darth Maul was killed: he seduced a Jedi who had become disenchanted with the Republic. He preyed on that disenchantment and converted him to the dark side, which is also a setup for what happens with Anakin." - Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of Attack of the Clones, 2002

"[Dooku is] one of the few Jedi who became disenchanted with the Republic and left the order and he is leading a separatist movement." - Vanity Fair, 2002

"I wanted a more sophisticated kind of villain. Dooku’s disenchantment with the corruption in the Empire is actually valid. It’s all valid.  So, Chris plays it as, 'Is he really a villain or is he just someone who is disenchanted and trying to make things right?'" - Starlog Magazine #300, 2002

He probably meant the Republic/Senate in that last one, but you get the point. And you're seeing the pattern, right?

Dooku's problem isn't the Jedi, it's the Republic.

He's become disenchanted with a system that - according to Lucas' prologue in the 2004 book Shatterpoint - worked for 1,000 years...

"For a thousand years, the Old Republic prospered and grew under the wise rule of the Senate and the protection of the venerable Jedi Knights."

... but has been rendered ineffective because of 1) senators becoming corrupt and 2) corporations gaining political power.

"But as often happens when wealth and power grow beyond all reasonable proportion, an evil fueled by greed arose. The massive organs of commerce mushroomed in power, the Senate became corrupt, and an ambitious named Palpatine was voted Supreme Chancellor."

That's the message Dooku runs on, when he rallies the systems to form the Separatist Alliance.

"By promising an alternative to the corruption and greed that was rotting the Republic from within, Dooku was able to persuade thousands of star systems to secede from the Republic."

The Jedi aren't really a factor in his decision to leave.

Why would they be? Their political status isn't very high, they're virtually powerless, as illustrated by the film's narrative and stated repeatedly by Lucas.

On the contrary, as we already established in this post, Lucas full-on confirmed that Dooku actually carries the sympathies of most of the Jedi. Again:

Most Jedi agree with Dooku, ideologically.

As far as the Jedi are concerned, the politicians are effing up the Republic, and it sucks because the Jedi see this but aren't allowed to interfere in the political process. They have to resort to looking for loopholes in their mandates to actually get stuff done.

That's what that whole "she's a politician" scene is meant to hint at. In the commentary of Attack of the Clones, Lucas uses a similar turn of phrase as he does with Dooku.

"[This scene gives us] a chance to talk a little bit about politics and the Jedi’s disenchantment with the political process, due to the corruption and the ineffectiveness of the Senate." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

Considering all this, it becomes clear that the intended narrative surrounding Dooku's decision to leave the Order is not:

"The Jedi are dogmatic and asleep at the wheel except for Dooku, who is ahead of the curb and sees the system is flawed, so he left."

It's actually:

"ALL Jedi see the system is flawed, Dooku's the only Jedi who decided to take it a step further and leave the Order so he can try to get into politics himself and change things."

That's why they hesitate to accuse him of murder.

That's why in an earlier draft of the Attack of the Clones script, by the end of the second act, Mace STILL has his doubts that Dooku would sign a treaty with the Trade Federation to attack the Republic.

As far as the Jedi are concerned, Dooku is out there fighting the good fight, making noise because whenever they try to protest it falls on deaf ears... until his betrayal on Geonosis.

After all, let's not get it twisted: the Dooku we're introduced to in the films and The Clone Wars, isn't really just Dooku anymore.

He's Darth Tyranus.

A point Lucas makes sure to highlight in his Shatterpoint prologue:

"Unbeknownst to most of his followers, Dooku was himself a Dark Lord of the Sith, acting in collusion with his master, Darth Sidious, who, over the years, had struck an unholy alliance with the greater forces of commerce and their private droid armies."

It's not about doing the selfless thing for Dooku, anymore. He's knowingly part of the problem.

He's all about ambition, now. His personal goals are things like overthrowing Sidious and becoming the most powerful Jedi.

"[Anakin's] ambition and his dialogue here is the same as Dooku’s. He says “I will become more powerful than every Jedi.” And you’ll hear later on Dooku will say “I have become more powerful than any Jedi.” [...] It is possible for a Jedi to want to become more powerful, and control things." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

"If you put two Sith together, they try to get others to join them to get rid of the other Sith. [When revealing the truth to Obi-Wan], Dooku's ambition is really to get rid of Darth Sidious. He's trying to get Obi-Wan's assistance in that and help in that, so that he and Obi-Wan could overthrow Sidious and take over." - Attack of the Clones, Commentary Track 2, 2002

Y'know? Selfish things.

Dooku - like all other Sith, and like the very corporations and Senators he had sworn to destroy - is consumed by his own greed.

[tossawary]

Something I found surprising when revisiting the prequel trilogy is how much the clones aren't full characters in the movies. They're props. They're devices. The films give them the same weight and attention as they give the Separatist droids, really. The only two clone troopers I can easily name off the top of my head who get "named" in any way are Oddball and Cody, who are both just barely in "Revenge of the Sith", and interchangeable in their roles with any other background clone.

It's interesting when held up against "The Clone Wars" and other extension material, which had the time and inclination to say more directly, "Hey, these are people and what's happening to them is wrong." Like, obviously what's happening in Ep2&3 is wrong, the audience can draw that conclusion on their own, growing people as cannon fodder is a clear part of the greater tragedy if you take about five seconds to think about the situation here. Even without the element of the entire war being constructed and controlled by the main villain, the clones are a tragedy.

But, oh man, the movies themselves don't really care to focus on that. It's SUCH a background element. I had a "oh, yeah, Order 66 being programmed into a control chip was a later addition to / clarification of canon" moment while watching, because as far as Ep3 actually shows us (as was the initial intention by some, I know), Cody apparently knew the entire time that he might be called to fire on Obi-Wan Kenobi and was just waiting on the call. The "homogenous evil army" trope is... very much present and even more identical than usual here.

By the films alone, you can easily assume that the clone troopers have no love for any of the Jedi (whom we're meant to believe are relatively decent people) for a variety of reasons. Their upbringing and training on Kamino was presumably cold and brutal. They're (possibly enslaved) soldiers in an even more brutal war. This army is offered no development or individuality that makes the appalling Jedi Temple massacre out of character for any of them.

But when the various Clone Wars shows first turned the clones into individual characters and even protagonists, many of whom are shown to be good people and become friendly with the Jedi through years of teamwork in life-or-death situations, Order 66 became weird. "Wait, why would the majority of clones (all the clones we see in the movies, at least) just go along with this? What went wrong here?"

I get why TCW and SW canon settled on the control chips option and I find it interesting enough. The tragedy of it all makes me want to lie facedown on the floor. Darth Sidious is really winning at sheer evilness here.

On the other hand, there are some really fun and interesting "Order 66 was taught, not programmed" AUs to revisit here. Especially when some of the other (Legends canon now) contingency orders include what to do if the Supreme Chancellor is incapacitated or declared unfit, or even getting rid of the Supreme Chancellor and assuming control by lethal force if necessary. Presumably these orders existed as a back-up in case Palpatine wasn't elected to the seat in time for the war or didn't manage to get rid of term limits and was replaced as Chancellor at any point.

That really sounds like Palpatine's evil army of ruthless Jedi-Killers (unchipped) could have easily backfired on him if they'd ever decided all of these non-clones were unfit and organized to take power for themselves. I love any scenario where Palpatine's arrogant and overly complicated plans get him in trouble. The "homogenous evil army" often gets treated as a mindless mob, but while the clones may have some degree of emotional suppression, they're clearly very capable and not unintelligent, and they're not given many (if any) reasons to be loyal to the Republic. And it is FUNNY to imagine any Dark Lord's created army deciding that he fucking sucks at war (there's obviously a leak, why the FUCK are they losing so much ground to fucking droids) and they're overthrowing him for better benefits, so that they can create and run a more efficient Evil Empire themselves.

You could make this angsty as hell or a comedy, or both. I'm imagining the clones at the eleventh hour murdering Chancellor Palpatine with such brutal efficiency that it feels like its own kind of prejudice. And he gets revealed as a Sith Lord in the process (this was taken into account as a potential problem when planning the assassination), so there's an initial moment of: "I can't believe it! He was the Sith Lord in the Senate all along! How did you know?"

Cody: "Didn't."

Obi-Wan: "...Pardon?"

Cody: "This is a coup, sir."

Like, if we're going by what's shown in the movies alone, there's a clear Emperor Cody AU to be had here. Which can be played as a temporary (years long) measure to reinstall a Republic with proper checks and balances, while a bemused Jedi Order and Senate are held hostage, or the First Galactic Empire is established as per canon just with the clones running it and reaping the benefits. I'm currently enjoying thinking about the latter scenario as a dark comedy, in which Future Emperor Cody (or the clone of your choice) has to negotiate in his spare time with the various demands of his fellow clones. (Who are, let us remember due to the horror that is the accelerated aging, a bunch of teenagers at the oldest here.)

Rex: "I want Tatooine."

Cody: "The whole planet?"

Rex: "Yeah."

Cody: "It's a shithole."

Rex: "Yeah, but it'll make Skywalker so kriffing mad, so I'm calling dibs."

Cody: "Noted."

And if you want to write shipfic, there's always the AU of various Evil Army Clones meeting their love interest and then going, "Not evil anymore! Sorry, guys." Which could be angsty or another dark-ish comedy.

Cody @ the clone commander group chat: "WE'RE NOT GIVING UP ON THE 3-YEAR IMPERIAL COUP PLAN JUST BECAUSE YOU HORNY ASSHOLES WANT TO FUCK JEDI!!! STOP TALKING ABOUT THE POWER OF LOVE!!! STOP IT!!!"

[stealthetrees]

If anyone bothered to count, Marshal Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard would go down in history as having the most blackmail ever. Not on him, he’s too good at covering his tracks. On literally everyone that could potentially move against him. He has a unique advantage of being able to walk into peoples houses and office buildings and go through their stuff and computers claiming to be looking for “Sepratist activity” and only the Supreme Chancellor could stop him.

Fox has your bank account numbers, your transaction history, tax records, addresses of your mistresses, photos of you paying off the mob, medical history. Everything. He takes full advantage.

The rest of the GAR think he’s a Secretary because he’s been seen going through peoples desks and making bank withdraws in their name. He can’t deny it because then they would start asking questions Fox dosnt want to answer.

[saphronethaleph]

Double Dialing

Anakin looked around, cautiously.

“Was that the last of them?” he asked.

“Last ones we know about,” one of the liaison wookiees reported. Chewbacca, Anakin thought his name was – the son of Attichitcuk.

“All right, good enough for me,” Anakin decided, deactivating his lightsaber. “Skywalker to Five-oh-first command, report in?”

“Their attack has stalled, sir,” Appo reported in. “We’re preparing a counteroffensive move, but it’s not urgent – I’d appreciate your input if you can give it, sir.”

“I’ll head back to the command post,” Anakin replied, rolling his shoulder a little.

He had a pleasant burn in his muscles, and he’d done some really cool things so far today. Sure, he wasn’t a Master, and that was still a bit annoying, but it was a lot harder for it to feel annoying when he was helping out to save an entire planet!

Again.

And saving a planet full of wookiees was particularly good at making you feel like you were completely kickass and amazing. If they needed help, and you could give them that help, it was well worth it. Especially as a sign that the Council was willing to let him pick his assignments.

Then his comlink crackled again.

“...guiding light to big handful,” Obi-Wan’s voice said. “Guiding Light to Big Handful, over?”

“Master, it’s me,” Anakin replied.

“You’re supposed to say, Big Handful copies,” Obi-Wan pointed out, reproachfully. “Really, Anakin.”

“Sorry,” Anakin said. “You know it’s me, though. And I still think whoever picked that codename was being cruel. I wouldn’t have picked it for me.”

“Nobody picks their own codenames,” Obi-Wan replied. “It’s like nicknames. Anyway, Anakin – I’ve got some good news.”

“Oh, that’s… good?” Anakin replied. “Hang on, I think I remember, weren’t you on Utapau?”

“Yes, but that was a while ago,” Obi-Wan told him. “You must have missed the last update for the Council.”

Anakin felt a bit guilty about that, except that he had been in the middle of a lot of fights on Kashyyyk over the last few days. So he’d probably just ignored his comlink when it was ringing, because he’d been trying to cut a tank droid in half or fend off STAPs or make sure his crashing hoverspeeder crashed into the enemy without anyone on board. Instead of crashing into their own command centre while there were still two liaison wookiees on board.

It really had been an eventful few days.

“I probably did, Master,” he admitted. “So what’s been happening on Utapau?”

“I beat Grievous,” Obi-Wan said, just tossing it off there. “He was quite good, but not quite good enough. But before our battle I overheard him telling the Confederacy council to run away, heading to Mustafar.”

“Mustafar…” Anakin repeated, thinking. “That’s not all that far from here. I could probably head over-”

“Alas, you’re too late,” Obi-Wan replied. “The Open Circle fleet chased them to Mustafar. That’s actually what I’ve been doing, I led the assault on the mining facility they were holed up in twenty minutes ago. The whole CIS leadership has been captured.”

“Great!” Anakin said. “Does that mean we can bring an end to the war?”

“Not just yet, Anakin,” Obi-Wan apologized. “I’ve been interrogating the Trade Federation leadership, and Nute Gunray is quite clear that he’s been working for Darth Sidious for the last thirteen years at least – since before we met. Which is why I called you.”

Anakin was silent for a long moment.

“...I don’t get it,” he admitted.

“I captured their computers, Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained. “Including current comcodes to contact Darth Sidious. I’m hoping to get R2’s help in tracing them.”

“Yeah, he could do that,” Anakin replied. “Though…”

“Though what?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I’m just thinking about something the Chancellor said, once,” Anakin explained. “He said that, if Darth Sidious walked through the door he’d try and negotiate with him.”

He shrugged, not that Obi-Wan could see him. “Just a thought.”

“That might actually work,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin stared at his comlink, not that Obi-Wan could see that earlier.

“It might?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a plan you came up with, Anakin, and I’ve had plenty of experience in how well those go,” Obi-Wan replied. “Which is to say… distressingly well.”

“Thanks,” Anakin said.

“It’s better than the alternative,” Obi-Wan replied. “Unfortunately, the codes seem to be secured to this computer. We can’t just send them to you or to the Chancellor.”

“That’s okay,” Anakin decided. “I’ll get back to the command centre and hook up R2-D2…”

“Chancellor, you must appreciate your position,” Mon Mothma said, reasonably. “Your arguments that we are still in a crisis situation are becoming increasingly threadbare; this is not, necessarily, a problem that is impossible to solve, but it is a problem that needs solving.”

“I hardly see how it would qualify as a problem, Senator,” the Chancellor replied.

“The war is coming to a conclusion, Chancellor,” Bail pointed out. “It is going to be time to transition back to normal governance at some point soon… that transition is going to go more easily, for you and for the Republic as a whole, if you are willing to make it rather than dragging it out.”

“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Senator Organa,” Palpatine began.

“It’s not an insinuation,” Bail replied.

He shrugged. “It’s a statement of fact. Speaking purely from the point of view of securing public support, it is a matter of fact that the public responds better to someone who is willing to face an electoral challenge than someone who fends it off as best they can. If you continue to run the Republic in a crisis situation until the end of the war, then – speaking purely in terms of fact – that makes it far more likely that you will lose the subsequent election.”

Palpatine glowered.

“Assuming I accept your assessment,” he began. “What is your suggestion, then?”

“Abandon your emergency powers, or make a clear statement with a short timeframe as to when those powers will be abandoned,” Mon advised. “There are also issues relating to the courts, to be clear.”

“I don’t consider such issues to be issues at all,” Palpatine said, then there was a beeping sound.

He picked up the comlink from his desk.

“Yes?” he asked, then smiled. “Anakin, my boy! It’s good to hear from you. How have you been doing on Kashyyyk?”

“Is this… a bit impolite?” Bail murmured to Mon.

“Skywalker did call him,” Mon replied. “You know how the two are friends.”

“...that sounds marvellous,” Palaptine said. “Oh? ...yes, I remember. I’d be happy to negotiate with the CIS leadership… I’m sorry, who are you talking to?”

“And… there we go,” Static declared. “It’s using a priority override key, the only one in the system. You’ll show up as being Nute Gunray, since we know he had contact.”

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan replied, nodding to the expert. “Anakin?”

“Ready, Master,” Anakin replied. “I’ve got the Chancellor on the other call, I’ll put the comlinks next to one another.”

“Very good,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll do the same.”

He triggered the system, and for a long moment nothing happened.

Then the call connected.

“Explain yourself, Nute,” came a sinister voice, and Obi-Wan shuddered.

Who would ever think such a man had their best interests at heart?

“I assume you are referring to Nute Gunray?” the Chancellor said. “I believe he is not available. However-”

“Begone, then,” Sidious snapped.

“Please, allow me to finish,” the Chancellor requested. “This war has been going on for too long already, and I believe there are grounds for a peaceful settlement.”

“A peaceful settlement?” Sidious asked, chuckling darkly. “What kind of peaceful settlement could you possibly be talking about?”

“Surely the conflict between the Jedi and the Sith has some basis in the past, but that was hundreds of years ago,” the Chancellor pointed out.

“The conflict between the Jedi and the Sith is quite recent,” Sidious replied. “The Sith have developed techniques which some would consider… unnatural… and the Jedi were opposed to them from the start. They wished to keep the secret of healing the very ill out of the hands of the galaxy… many of them won’t even know it themselves.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling to ward off his intense dislike for the Sith.

That was an obvious tissue of lies, phrased to manipulate and with a built-in reason why the listener might not have heard of it.

“There must be a basis for peace,” the Chancellor protested.

Sidious made an amused noise. “Very well, then, here is your proposal. The Jedi Order must be dismantled.”

“I will not accept that,” Palpatine replied. “Some Jedi are my personal friends. Anakin Skywalker, for example, is a hero.”

Sidious chuckled. “You’re not expecting me to change my mind based on that, are you?” he asked, sounding amused. “What if I revealed to you that the Jedi do not have your own best interests at heart?”

“I would be very much inclined to not believe you,” Palpatine said, with a sigh. “Your Confederacy has caused enormous bloodshed!”

“The Confederacy was never a Sith creation,” Sidious replied. “It was a creation of my apprentice, Count Dooku. But Count Dooku is not the Sith. What the Sith want – what I want – is to be free from the tyranny of the Jedi.”

His voice became silky and insinuating. “Haven’t the Jedi resisted your own influence? Prevented that hero you spoke of from achieving the rank of Master? What other reason could they have – they must be hiding something.”

Obi-Wan felt sick for a moment.

The way this Sith was speaking was almost calculated to get under Anakin’s skin, as well as that of the Chancellor.

“I… don’t think the Jedi Order is quite so corrupt as you suggest,” Palpatine replied, after a moment, which was almost worse than an agreement.

Did the Chancellor really think he could give orders to the Jedi?

“You know what it would take for a peace,” Sidious said. “It’s the only way to stop the bloodshed. The only way that the Sith would feel… comfortable… sharing our superior knowledge of the Force.”

Then the call ended, unceremoniously.

“...well, that could have gone better,” Anakin muttered.

“It was worth a try,” Obi-Wan said, though he privately agreed with Anakin.

Static and Sparkle were checking if they’d managed to track down Sidious during the conversation, and once they delivered their verdict Obi-Wan would check with Anakin to see if R2 had achieved anything. Maybe he’d even managed to send a virus.

At least Sidious had stayed on the line for a while.

Palpatine heaved an enormous sigh of relief, setting down the comlink he’d been using to talk to Anakin.

He very much hoped to never have to do something like that again.

Then a tiny sound made him look up.

Bail Organa and Mon Mothma were staring at him. And, in a shimmering blue hologram, so were about half of the Jedi Council.

“...what. The kriff. Was that?” Mace Windu asked, eventually.

“Ah…” Palpatine began. “...performance art?”

Nobody seemed very impressed by that answer.

[phoenixyfriend]

Remember my post about Anakin pulling a Mike Murdock? Yeah, no, I have a full on AU concept now (with contributions by @threebea! indented)!

He lies so hard about having a brother that the universe invents a twin from scratch for him. It happens when Anakin is like twelve.

Anakin was just committing to the bit on a mission because he was bored.

The Force was also bored.

Oh no Anakin force manifests a sibling Obi-Wan: …That's not how the Force works. Anakin: You tell the Force that. Obi-Wan: Well, I suppose this would be your half-brother since the Force is your shared parent. Obi-Wan after the initial shock: This might as well happen.

New brother is better at some things and worse at others, as any person is. Anakin is, naturally, a fucking mess about all that, worries he'll be replaced, etc.

Obi-Wan just brings this to the Council and nobody can DENY this Skywalker from the Jedi after they already took the first one. So. Mace volunteers.

This Skywalker is a bit more Force than Anakin, got glowing eyes and visions and the Animal Communion buff. But is worse at flying, worse at tech, and unfathomably worse at people. Which is a FEAT, since Anakin's not too hot at social skills in the first place.

Mace has his hands full in many ways, including "keep this child from walking face first into the wall."

Obi-Wan: We are not calling him Anagain.

Anakin had many mixed feelings but! If he's going to have family then he's going to commit!

The other option is that the brother is younger by enough that the Older Brother instincts kick in, but I think the one-sided twin rivalry is funnier.

Anakin: I'm a big brother now. Anagain: I think we're supposed to be twins. Anakin: I have more worldly experience. Anagain: I'm taller. Anakin: wut Anagain: alpha twin alpha twin (that's his nickname until you come up with actual name lol) Obi-Wan: Well, I'm taller than both of you, and while that is the case you both need to listen to me. Anagain: (flash of foresight) So, not for long Obi-Wan: What? Anagain: Nothing. Mace: (the Shatterpoints are blinding) Yeah, I'll be taking this one. More seriously tho, Anakin definitely torn between what if everyone likes him better he's born from the force what if he's the chosen one what if and also: I have a brother I have family I need to take care of him. Probably some fun twin force bond too. Oh man Sheev after digesting all of that would definitely try to get some jealousy going.

Anakin talks about the new brother with terms like Freshly Hatched and Innocent Baby and it's mostly a joke except that now HE thinks Palps is a creep when it's aimed at Not Him.

Palpatine: When do I get to meet him? Anakin: [absolutely not] Mace won't let him [Yeah that'll work] Mace: Yeah, absolutely not, he didn't help save Naboo there's no reason for my Padawan to have a relationship with the Supreme Chancellor

I've decided to call the brother Aion (EY-yon). I like the whole thing about Anakin's name being based on Ananke, even if it's a disputed thing, so I go for Greek myth when doing alt names for siblings.

Mace still bitter about having to let Palps get time with Anakin not about to do the same if he can help it. Although that comic takes place later eh (handwaves) still The Jedi might try to be hush hush about where aion came from anyway since he would fall directly under Jedi business

Help I'm imagining Mace and Obi-Wan on a walk and the twins are on child leashes. Anakin because ADHD will have him trying to run off to look at something. And Aion because he's going to be so distracted by visions that he will walk into traffic.

"Can we send a letter to mom so she knows he exists?" The other thought was ANAKIN holding the child leash for Aion, and then Obi-Wan or Mace holding the one for Anakin. Lil chain.

Aion: Hey… I know I've only existed for a few months, and yes my memories of before are sort of built by the Force, but I'm pretty sure the Supreme Chancellor is evil. Mace: You saw that in a vision? Aion: No, he's just super creepy. Bad vibes.

Obi-Wan: Of course he's evil, he's a career politician. Anakin: What about your friend from Alderaan? Obi-Wan: That's different.

One of these boys is constantly zoning out. The other is smiling, but the smile contains murder.

They're both adhd but with wildly different sides of it.

EXACTLY

Also.

Aion: [silent, a bit upset but mostly chill] Anakin, holding his hand: He asked for no pickles!

[sollis-occasum]

a night like this - anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: you kept saying that everything was over between the two of you but anakin kept coming back to you every time.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, insecurity, jealousy, miscommunication, mention of blood and injury, quinlan vos beheads a bounty hunter (just one sentence and it's not in detail either), mention of a vomiting twi-lek, reader is working in a pub, no proofread

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i haven't decided yet but i may write a few more parts to this story. i hope you like it guys. please don't mind the english mistakes, i'm not a native speaker.

Being injured was not unusual for Anakin Skywalker, but he could never remember feeling so vulnerable before.

As he moved, his battle-weary body convulsed with a kind of pain he had never felt before, reopening wounds that had begun to close, filling his nostrils with the metallic scent of blood. If your delicate sighs had not mixed with his moans from his blood-soaked lips, the pain he was in would have caused him to lose all sense of time and space. But how could he have allowed this to happen as you gently ran your hands over his face, wiping away the sweat from his forehead? This was perhaps the last time you would welcome him into this house where you had created so many precious memories together, and Anakin wanted to engrave everything from that night deep in his mind. Every sound, every image, every detail...

You had tried to tell him hundreds, maybe thousands of times before that everything between you was over, that you belonged in two different worlds. Anakin Skywalker was a young Jedi fighting to ensure that the light side of the Force prevailed over the darkness in the galaxy. You were just an ordinary barmaid working in a seedy pub in a backstreet of Coruscant. Unlike Anakin, your life was not full of fearless warriors and nobles with endless wealth, but of hardened criminals, addicts, and bounty hunters. How could you trust him and open your heart to him when he had been trained to fight the people you considered your family for almost his entire life?

And your experiences were very different, too. Anakin had traveled to planets you had never even heard of before, and met people you could never even see on the HoloNet. Some nights when you couldn't sleep, you would ask him to talk, to tell you things, thinking that hearing his soft voice would help you drift off. He would tell you stories from his missions. Sometimes these stories took place on a mountain on Alderaan, sometimes in an underwater city on Naboo. Usually, the people who accompanied Anakin on these planets were just as interesting as the mission itself. Master Jedi, senators, stormtroopers, sometimes even Chancellor Palpatine himself...

These stories that you listened to with great excitement at first, started to create a thin ache in your heart that even you didn't want to accept. You knew that Anakin had no bad intentions, that he just wanted to share something with you, but no matter what you did you couldn't resist the jealousy that was trying to take over your soul. Knowing that there is another life somewhere outside of this swamp you were trapped in and that you could only hear about it from others was driving you crazy inside.

Sometimes Anakin would ask you questions about your life, but you would either ignore them or leave them unanswered. You had no intention of appearing mysterious or keeping secrets. You just didn't have stories that would interest someone like him who had seen the entire galaxy. What were you going to tell him? Do you know, Anakin, today a Jedi named Quinlan Vos came to our pub and cut off the head of a bounty hunter with his lightsaber. The man's head fell into the lap of one of the stripper Twi-leks and she started throwing up. I had to clean up the vomit along with the blood on the walls. What a beautiful day, isn't it?

No, no... You would rather remain silent for the rest of your life than endure Anakin's pitying gaze as he listened to these. At least that way you wouldn't have lost your self-respect.

You took a deep breath to clear your mind and turned your gaze to Anakin lying on your bed. He looked so innocent and defenseless with his wounded state that your heart ached for him. You wanted to protect him from all the evil in the universe by hiding him in your house, which was a temple of memories for you, but how could you do that when you didn't even have the strength to protect yourself? The only good thing you could do for him was to get out of his life before you could hurt him any further. You tucked a lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead behind his ear and muttered in a voice you could barely hear, "You shouldn't have come here, Anakin." You tried to make your voice sound firm and determined, but you couldn't stop it from shaking.

The young Jedi tried to sit up in bed, but couldn’t. He winced in pain and slowly lowered himself onto the headboard. He pressed his mechanical hand to the wound on his abdomen, as if the coldness of the metal would ease the pain. You placed your hand over his and began to gently stroke the metal surface with your thumb. Even though he couldn’t feel your touch, the gesture always soothed him. When you realized that having a cybernetic hand embarrassed him, you started doing it to show him that you loved everything about him, and over time it had become a habit. To Anakin, this robotic hand might have been a symbol of his weakness but to you, it was just a part of the man you loved.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a burden to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ani, you’re not a burden to me. You couldn’t be even if you wanted to.” You slowly removed his hand from his wound, as if you were afraid of hurting him, and kissed it. “What I was trying to say was that the Jedi at the temple could take better care of you. You know, with spells and all that.”

"Jedi don't do magic, they use the Force." He smiled for the first time since he had come to you. You shrugged, smiling. "They're all the same to me. I'm not sensitive to any of them anyway."

Your smiles and chuckles were not enough to break the serious air in the room. You had to stop for a few seconds and gather your courage to continue speaking. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed in the meantime, and your lips were drawn into a thin line. A sadder expression than Anakin had ever seen appeared in his eyes, reflected by the moonlight. The wrinkles on your forehead made you look like you had aged a few years in a few seconds.

"But we can't keep doing this, Anakin. You know that too. You can't come to me every time. We've talked about this many times before."

Anakin tried to get closer to you, but the burns and wounds were hurting him so much that he couldn't. He leaned back once more, taking deep, raspy breaths, and unconsciously began to squeeze the old sheet. Despite the pained expression on his face, he neither blinked nor took his gaze away from yours. You knew that by looking directly into you eyes, he was trying to see something deep inside your soul. Maybe a trace of the affection you had only ever felt for him, or maybe a glimmer of hope that you would never give up on him... But he could see nothing but determination on your face, blurred by his misty eyes.

“Don’t do this to us,” he said in a pleading voice. The tears he had been trying to hold back had finally started to flow down his cheeks. With a quick movement, he pulled his mechanical hand from yours and wiped his face, hoping that you hadn’t seen them. He hated the power you had over him.

“Don’t give up on us like this.”

When you saw Anakin’s wet eyelashes, you felt an overwhelming desire in your heart to pull him close to you, to lay him on your chest, to caress the soft hair he had grown for your sake while he cried and tell him that everything would be okay, but you couldn’t do it. You knew that the moment you showed weakness, your ex-lover would draw strength from your hesitation and try to fight against your inevitable end. You did the only thing you could do and shook your head, hiding behind your cold expression. "I have no choice, Ani."

"I love you, does that mean nothing to you?" The sadness in his eyes was giving way to anger, but his voice was so weak that he could not convey his rebellion to you.

"Of course that means something." you said in a calm tone, almost mocking his anger. "I love you too, but I will not allow you to waste your life on a relationship that has no future. If you are so determined to go against the Jedi Code, you should at least do it for someone worthy. Senator Amidala, for example. She is a beautiful and noble woman, and it is clear that she has feelings for you. She can use her power and position to help you. I will only be a hindrance."

"Nonsense," Anakin snapped. "Padme is nothing more than a trusted friend to me. You are the only person I need to continue. I can fight the whole galaxy as long as you're by my side."

You sighed slightly and got out of bed. “We won’t have this conversation again, Anakin. My decision is final and there is nothing you can do to make me change my mind.”

You knew you were doing the right thing for both of you, but why did it hurt so much? Why did the right choice always require such sacrifices?

You bid Anakin a last farewell with an innocent kiss on the lips and started walking towards the old wooden door of the room. You could feel the salty taste of your lovers tears on your lips.

“Stay the night here and get some good rest. But I don’t want to see you here when I get home from work tomorrow.”

Those were the last words you said to Anakin before you left the room and his life forever. “This can’t be the end of us,” he muttered as he looked at your shrinking figure. He started to tangle his fingers in his hair that you had been gently stroking a few minutes ago and started to squeeze it. He shook his head violently from side to side as if denying the cruel words echoing in his mind.

"I swear I will find a way to fix everything and bring you back to me."

[dailytudors]

FRANCES GREY, DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK, MOTHER OF A QUEEN

Born Frances Brandon, named after St. Francis of Assisi but also in honour of the King of France, Francis I, who was once the stepson-in-law of her mother and who had granted the marriage of her parents. Daughter of Charles Brandon, 1st Duke of Suffolk and Mary Tudor, Princess of England and Dowager Queen of France, she was the eldest daughter of her parents' union and after the death of her brother their eldest child. Sister to Eleanor Clifford, later Countess of Cumberland. She had two full brothers one elder and one younger, who did not reach adulthood. By her father, she had four half-siblings, like her full brothers her younger brothers did not reach adulthood. Granddaughter of Henry VII, King of England and Elizabeth of York, Queen of England. Making her the niece of Henry VIII, King of England and per the Act of Succession 1536 the first person in line for the English throne outside of her uncle's marriages, as her mother's heirs took precedence over her Scottish cousins who were through her aunt - the elder of Henry VII's daughters - Margaret, Queen of Scotland's line. Her first marriage was to Henry Grey, initially Marquess of Dorset who later acceded the Dukedom of Suffolk after her father's death. Henry Grey was related through their common ancestress Elizabeth Woodville, Queen of England, Henry through Elizabeth's first marriage and Frances through her second. Her second husband was Adrian Stokes, the Master of the Horse to her cousin Mary I. Mother to Jane Grey, Queen of England for nine days (technically thirteen if you take the date of the death of Edward VI) who was made heir by Edward VI brushing over Frances's own claim. Also, the mother to Katherine Grey and Mary Grey, who at times during Elizabeth I's reign were considered viable heirs by the court. She had a loving relationship with her stepmother Catherine Willoughby and socialized in the same circles, including the protestant circles of her uncle's latter reign and her cousin Edward's reign. Beloved friend to her Aunt by marriage Catherine Parr, Queen of England who was also a good friend of her stepmother. Friend to her cousin Mary I, even after Mary had put her Husband, Daughter and son-in-law to death. Mary, Frances and their cousin - through their aunt Margaret, Queen of Scotland - Margaret Douglas were all close in age and brought up in the court of Henry VIII. Mary ended up on the throne, with Frances being the mother of a Queen and Margaret being the mother of a King Consort of Scotland and later the grandmother of James I, King of England.

[Anna Chancellor as Lady France Grey, in Amazon Prime's My Lady Jane]

[tennessoui]

Oh you're so right about Anakin concluding it's probably Bail. Because maybe he got wind that the person Obi-Wan is in love with is happily married to someone else. It can literally only be Bail, right? Anakin says some pretty eyebrow raising things about the matter considering he is also a married man.

anakin, in newly elected chancellor bail organa’s office with a pen and clipboard full of possible names of criminal ne’er do wells that his master may be in love with: you know I killed the last chancellor in this very office. good times. I would kill a chancellor again. If something I loved was threatened. Or someone. Thoughts, chancellor?

bail organa who has never once even thought about sleeping with obi-wan kenobi: thoughts? no. concerns? yes

[agentarc]

i’m just gonna bite the bullet and post a wip of this fox whump fic i’m cooking

important background info: quinlan is undercover as a maintenance tech for senate droids, and he’s concealing his tattoos via makeup

also i’m genuinely always trying to improve my writing so constructive criticism is welcome

content warning for graphic panic attack and self harm by way of exacerbating injury — please let me know if there’s anything i missed

(also also hi if you like this and you’re in a clone trooper discord please invite me im dying to be social in the clone trooper fandom)

His quarters are on this floor — Fox is reasonably sure — but the distance his feet must carry him to get there stretches and warps until it may as well be a parsec away.

A good soldier would weather the storm and march on. A functioning clone wouldn’t struggle to expand his lungs, put one foot in front of the other, and navigate to his own quarters. Fox is not a functioning clone. Fox is hardly even a soldier.

He must abort mission. He will not make it to his office. He lurches for the nearest door. The keypad flashes red at him.

His knees wobble, and he’s supposed to be a soldier, a marshal commander; he’s knees don’t wobble. His knees can’t wobble, not when he needs to stand steady and lead the Guard; not when his brothers are depending on him to keep them safe. Not when his entire existence hinges on his ability to contribute. Not when he needs to face the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic and pretend he’s in full functioning order when he’s constantly grasping at the fraying edges of control. Fox doesn’t know if he’ll come back when the threads fly apart.

Time does something funny and Fox is on his knees. The keypad sparks and sizzles. The door remains tightly sealed.

“Commander?”

The world slams to a stop. His eyes fly open — when had he closed them? He’s too vulnerable, it’s not safe to fall apart here, he can’t — and a natborn human is hovering at the hallway junction, 20 steps away.

They take a half-step in his direction, and Fox doesn’t have enough control to mask his full-bodied flinch. He knows the natborn sees it because they instantly freeze, raising both their hands in a display of easy surrender.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to help.” Movements measured and slow, they lower their hands until they’re relaxed at their sides, palms facing out. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Fox can’t. Can’t push words through his teeth, can’t steady his hands, can’t take a full breath — can’t choke back the strangled noise that builds in the back of his throat —

It’s like his armor is see-through, all his cracks on full display, his skin flayed open for the natborn and the vode and all the little gods to feast. It’s not safe. He needs — he needs —

Thorn, he signs desperately, the shape of his brother’s name mangled by tremors. His fingers aren’t listening, but natborns don’t know battlesign anyway, so what’s the point? Fox is well and truly going to die. Fox is going to shake apart right here on the floor of the hallway, his heart is going to smash through his ribs, and the Chancellor will have been right about him all along. Fox is going to die and it won’t even be in the glory of battle, protecting his brothers like he’s meant to, like he wants to. Fox is going to die, and he is going to die an embarrassment; a failure to the Republic and a failure to his brothers.

“Commander,” someone says, and Fox’s attention snaps back to the stranger so fast that it rends a shock of pain through his skull. They have not come closer, but they could have — could have slid up and pricked him with a hypo or put a blaster to his head, and at this range the bolt would zip through his bucket like wet flimsi, and Fox isn’t paying enough attention, this place isn’t safe —

“My name’s Quin. I’m a maintenance tech,” the stranger continues from the junction. They speak firmly, but soft enough that their voice doesn’t echo. “You’re at Guard headquarters, on level 83, maintenance hall 7B, and you’re safe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” Their hands are still visible, but their arms are positioned in a way that suggests they had just used their commlink — to call whom? Maintenance techs don’t usually have direct lines to upper command, who did he call — “You were trying to get into that storage closet, right? I’m going to come closer and open it for you, okay?”

Fox expects them to start approaching, and he flinches reflexively, his body wound tight enough to snap right in half, but the stranger doesn’t move, yet. They watch Fox carefully, though Fox can’t make out the features of their face through his blackening vision.

He shudders through the concentrated wrongness knotted in his chest, eyeing the stranger as would a cornered, dying animal.

It’s perhaps desperation, perhaps the stranger’s disarming words, or perhaps a result of Fox having fully lost his mind that leads him to nod, once.

Only then does the stranger cautiously begin their approach, step after measured step, both their hands loose and empty and visible — a human man, Fox finally notes through the haze of his malfunction — and Fox tracks his movements as he smoothly glides into Fox’s bubble.

Fox cannot move, will not flex a single muscle, because if he does, he knows he will die. He thinks his trachea may be collapsing, gripped by some invisible force —

He jolts against phantom hands (you must stop struggling, Commander) that exist and don’t in equal measure (hold still, now) [end this smoothly, god i can’t be bothered rn]

“Almost got it,” the stranger says from somewhere above him, and Fox inhales sharply, shallowly; the exhale punches out of him with a low keening whine. It could have been seconds or cycles but eventually the man backs off in one casual, languid movement, and the door to the storage closet whooshes open.

Fox all but tumbles inside. He vaguely thinks he should be embarrassed, but as he presses his shoulders into a corner and lets his head hang between his knees, he figures that he deserves a death just as pitiful and undignified as his life was.

The trill of an incoming comm — not his own, because the Chancellor insists he not bring it to their meetings — has him whipping his head back up to attention. The man has stayed behind in the hall, standing off to one side of the open doorway. He raises his wrist comm and a bolt of terror lances through Fox at the reminder that he called someone.

“This is Commander Thorn. What’s going on?”

Fox could cry, and he probably is.

“Commander Fox is in distress. He’s safe, but I think he hurt his hand. We’re in storage closet 83-7B-A113.”

His hand? Fox flexes it and gasps with a detached sort of surprise at the burst of sensation. He hears swearing and shuffling from the other line.

“I’ll be there in 10. Do not touch him, and do not let anyone else approach.”

Fox chokes on a sob. Thorn is coming. It’s going to be okay. Thorn is coming.

“Of course.” The man signs off, but Fox isn’t watching anymore. Thorn is coming.

“Hey, Commander Fox? I’m gonna leave the door open, ‘cause the mechanism’s kind of messed up and I don’t want it locking on you.” A brief rustle of fabric, and, “I’m just gonna keep watch until Thorn gets here, yeah? I’ll head anyone else off.”

When Fox risks a glance at the doorway, the man is no longer within sight. Alarm and relief flood him in equal parts — eyes on all threats at all times, trooper, you’re not out of this yet — but despite his lack of visual on the stranger, he’s finally and blessedly alone in the storage closet.

He paws at his bucket until he remembers he will almost certainly die if he takes it off, and curls his fingers around the edge of his cuirass instead. If it weren’t for the hard plastoid, he thinks he’d sink his fingers into his chest to still his thundering heart himself. Maybe preventing it from racing around would fix him. Maybe it would kill him. Either option is preferable to the way dread creeps into every corner of his mind, every organ and limb, buzzing like holo static in his hands as they scrabble at his armored chest.

A renewed shock of feeling from his right hand abruptly pulls the world into stark contrast. It aches, maybe, behind and underneath the layers of wrongness, a single shred of reality, and he closes his fist to feel the sparks again and again.

It’s not pain — not quite. It wants to be, but Fox’s nerve endings are misfiring, severing themselves from his synapses as his body corrupts. It’s starbursts of sensation that sear through an impenetrable, suffocating fog; clashes of a cymbal to accompany the percussion of his heart and the unfaltering hum of the fluorescent lights above.

Fox understands pain, but he doesn’t understand this. He understands pain for the lessons it can teach, but he is failing to learn this lesson. He’s not sure this is pain at all. Pain is getting caught outside of cover and taking a blaster bolt to the gut, or not being fast-strong-cunning-ruthless enough on the training mats, or failing to dodge the Red Guard’s electrostaff during the Chancellor’s extracurricular lessons. Pain is useful; endurance of pain even more so. A soldier unacquainted with pain can’t function on a battlefield, or learn from critical mistakes, or (gods forbid) tolerate torture without cracking open.

If this is pain, and pain is meant to be some sort of lesson, what lesson is Fox evidentially incapable of learning? Just how defective is he? He squeezes his right hand in his left, lets the pain-not-pain fill his awareness until there’s no room left for this wicked miasma eating him alive.

Suddenly, there are hands on his wrists.

A twisted thing crawls up his throat and tears out through his teeth, and he swings, disoriented, clamoring for a single inch of control in a tumultuous storm. The grip holds fast against his thrashing until Fox abruptly registers the staccato being tapped out on his vambrace. Vod. Vod. Vod.

A brother — Thorn, Thorn is here — hovers before him, the determined set of his shoulders betraying none of the alarm Fox thinks he’d see in his eyes if he had the strength to look. “Fox,” Thorn says, “Fox’ika, I’m here. You’re safe.”

He’s not safe. He’s not, but Thorn is here and whole and keeping the danger away, and that’s not nothing.

“Let’s get your bucket off,” Thorn suggests, and then to the tense breath Fox hisses out in response, “It’s okay; Stone’s outside, he’s keeping watch. It’s safe.” And Fox believes him, because Thorn never lies to him. Thorn tells it like it is.

A snap-hiss, and Thorn gently lifts Fox’s helmet off. Cool air rushes over his face and fills his lungs.

“Good, that’s good. A couple more of those, like this.” Thorn takes a big breath, and Fox tries to copy him but his lungs are broken; the breath he takes is in starts and stops. A strangled whine squeezes out with his exhale. “I know,” Thorn says, “It’ll get easier.”

And it does. Thorn has worked his thumbs between Fox vambraces and blacks, rubbing small circles into his wrists, and it feels like everything. The lighthouse coming into view from out on a choppy sea. The anchor that keeps him tethered to the waking world. The offer of shelter from a vicious storm.

His sense of time is fractured. By the time Fox can inhale and exhale a complete breath it feels as though hours have passed, Thorn murmuring words of encouragement and squeezing gently whenever Fox starts to get sucked back into the fog.

Fox opens his eyes, and Thorn meets it with a smile. “That’s it, vod. I’m right here. Keep breathing.”

Thorn is here. It’s safe. The tension he didn’t realize was holding him together suddenly abates, rushing out of him like debris out an airlock, and he sags forward into Thorn’s waiting arms. Thorn’s free hand comes up to card through Fox’s sweaty curls, the other still encircling Fox’s wrist, as the marshal commander presses his forehead into his brother’s armored chest.

Sorry, Fox signs shakily, but he feels Thorn already shaking his head.

“Don’t you dare. You have nothing to apologize for.” Gently, as though Fox is something deserving of of reverence, Thorn removes Fox’s face from his chest and pulls him into a keldabe. They breathe in sync like this for a long, peaceful moment. “How about we go see Lore and fix your hand, and then have some midmeal in the barracks?” At Fox’s dour expression, Thorn rolls his eyes. “Alright then, let me rephrase. We’re going to medbay, and then having some midmeal in the barracks. You’ll feel better. Think you’re ready to stand?”

Fox thinks he might never be able to stand again. He does, though, and with Thorn’s support, ambles through the threshold of the supply closet. Stone sweeps in to support Fox’s other side.

The stranger is nowhere to be seen.

[he4rtiz]

[𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 ⋆ 𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞]

or, haku comforts you in his own unique way

pairing: haku kusanagi x f!reader author’s note: first fic in i don’t know how long and my first fic for tokyo debunker, everyone cheers! this fic is quite comical... at least for me lol to be honest this fic was born out of my love for haku, he and his flirting got me sick!!!! i demand more scenes in which haku flirts with mc!!!!!! possible ooc!haku but bear with me pls

english isn't my native language!

Your days at Darkwick Academy were never boring enough, not when every single ghoul and staff member was able to double down your already tiring and tedious workload. 

Your days spent running from house to house, from task to task, without even being able to take a small break.

Today wasn’t different from usual. Your day started with helping Kaito with his remedial classes, then you gave Sho a hand with Highway to Home, only to then sprinting towards Jabberwock to stop Towa from striking down an anomalous creature who accidentally hurt Haru, to then team up with Haru to bring Ren back to Jabberwock.

Cue said fugitive yelling about you and that clown not understanding the basic concept of boundaries.

Of course, your day wasn’t even far from being done. Your lunch break was cut short when you received a lovely call from Romeo, and between all the acronyms he yelled, you only understood that BTH, aka Sinostra’s famous troublemaker captain, was up to no good. 

You had just a minute to say goodbye to the delicious food Sho gave you, unceremoniously left on the table half-finished.

And there you were, sprinting towards Sinostra to avoid explaining to the Chancellor how in the hell the Darkiwick Academy population decreased in a few minutes. And why it was always Sinostra’s fault.

Not even the time to breathe, that you found yourself on Jiro’s shoulder as he and Yuri, who didn’t forget to remind you that he was a busy man, and he didn’t have time to play hide and seek with you, went straight to Mortkraken for your daily medical visit. Your fault? Forgetting about said medical visit.

At least you were able to relax a bit, until your phone rang up for the nth time, and it was Frostheim captain’s turn to call for your help, or in other words, giving you some tedious task he considered boring. 

Great, you were not done yet.

Maybe it was time to create a trade union with the cats and demand less work hours…

You were done for the day, at least until your phone rang up once more. 

Sitting on a bench with your eyes closed, your body relaxed under the gentle breeze of the night, a sigh of relief left your lips, you survived another hellish day, at least it wasn’t as bad as others. Luckily this time, you didn’t have to run and miss Romeo’s bullets as he tried to hunt you and Kaito down, all because the blonde still hasn’t paid his debt.

Tired and hungry, you groaned, your eyes opening to find the moon, half-moon to be more precise, shining all alone, as no stars were around.

You and that moon were so similar; the moon shining all alone in the dark night, and you alone in an academy full of ghouls and trying to find a cure to your curse.

Suddenly you felt the presence of someone, and before you could realize what was happening, a bag was dropped on your lap.

“There you are, [Name].” A familiar voice said, a so gentle one compared to the ones you were used to, and you realized who the voice belonged to. It was Haku.

“Why so surprised? You weren’t expecting me, how cruel~” He joked as he sat down next to me.

“Haku-san! Why are you here? Is everything alright at Hotarubi? Ther-” Haku stopped before you could say more.

A light frown adorned his face, as his finger was gently silencing your rambling, before with his other hand gently flicked your forehead. 

“You worry too much about the others. You should learn to focus first on yourself and then take care of us. We may look helpless to you, but we aren’t.” He scolded you, his expression still serious.

You whined a little, your fingers massaging your forehead. It was the second time that Haku flicked your forehead, it seemed his favourite scolding method.

 “I am… I am sorry.” You murmured “I will focus more on my well-being…”

He nodded before he pointed to the bag on your lap. “I brought you some food, with all that running you did today, I am sure you’re more than hungry. I bought everything from that first-year’s truck. The one from Vagastrom.”

Your eyes shined brightly after opening the bag, Sho’s food was a fricking God’s gift after a long and tiring day. 

“W-What!? Thank you so much, Haku-san!” You grinned as you happily ate your dinner. Haku, on the other hand, just chuckled at your grin.

You were so hungry that in a flash, the once full of food bag was now empty. As per usual, the food Sho cooked was delicious. 

“Thank you again for the food, Haku-san. “ You thanked him sincerely, a shy smile on your lips, you always felt in debt with him, he was always there whenever you need him. Even the small gesture of buying your dinner, that for many would be seen as something small, for you was a silent message, a gesture meaning he was always there to give you a hand when you were feeling down or in need of help. 

Pushing a strand of your hair aside, you turned towards him, smiling shyly. His presence was charming enough that even a simple smile from him, was enough to fluster you.

“Haku-san… Sometimes I think you like spoiling me, you’re always with me when I am in troubles. You always lend me your shoulders, and you always hear me out. I don’t know how to thank you enough. I am so glad to have you by my side.” You confessed, your eyes now on your lap, trying to hide your flushed expression. 

A pregnant silence fell, you slowly realized that your words might sound like a confession of a sort. Panic flew in your body as you furiously tried to explain yourself, and embarrassment blossomed on your face.

“H-Haku-san, i-it’s not like that! I-I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t wan-” He just chuckled, shaking his head, his fingers running through his hair as he looked at your flustered reaction.

“You’re something else, [Name].” He snickered “Spoiling you…” He muttered, before a sly smile unfolded on his lips.

“You know… “ He began “I don’t mind spoiling you, and if you really feel guilty you can always marry me. Then you won’t worry about being spoiled.”

Oh my god…

Oh my god…

You were sure now you were blushing like crazy, how could he say something like that with that nonchalance?!

“H-H-Haku-san!” You whined out, jumping on your feet, your heart pounding furiously, almost leaping out your rib cage.

The Hotarubi vice-captain maybe took pity of your flustered state, as he got up too, his hand ruffling your hair.

“Take your time, my offer is always up~” He teased, winking.

You prayed that God took mercy of you and made you disappear immediately.

“C’mon princess, don’t stay there, I will escort back you to the chapel. And on our way back, you can always think about my offer~”

He was going to be your death, in one way or in the other.

[aernx]

꧔ UNDER THE RADAR — ! ❪엔하❫

secret relationships w enha hyung line (separate) non idol! university au （ maknae line ver ）

꒰ warnings ꒱ none i think, mentions of strict parents in jakes part

001. lee heeseung — ❪이희승❫ ᝰ

Subtle glances, quiet “i love you”s as you bumped into each other in the hallway becomes a daily routine for you and Heeseung. Decided to keep your relationship under the radar, you two had no other options but remain intimate behind closed doors. Heeseung has always been an avid believer to PDA and it killed him to not be able to hold you in the eyes of public. But he knew that there were consequences held under his name.

Being the ace of the university’s football team meant being the talk of the university, and you weren’t pleased at the thought of unwanted attention. You love your boyfriend, you really do. But with him being the centre of what’s happening around your university, you can’t help but feel unease if your relationship had been under the lights.

Though, that doesn’t stop Heeseung from loving you any less and vice versa. You know that out of all the attention and support he receives from the public, only yours matters. And in a crowd full of people chanting his name, his eyes will always be on you, only you.

002. Park Jongseong — ❪박종성❫ ᝰ

Jay looks at you with stars in his eyes and his friends wonder how people around you never seem to notice. With you sitting two seats away from him in your economy lecture, it’s hard to pay attention to the professor speaking in front. Especially when the middle seat amidst you, remains vacant.

It took all of his self control to not move over and sit next to you. Holding your hand through the lecture as his other free hand jots down notes of the subject. It was unfortunate that your relationship was kept in the dark, or Jay would be calling your name every time scores a goal for the university’s soccer team.

It’s not that you care about other people’s thoughts that’s why you decided to keep it a secret. But with you being the student council president and him the star player of your university’s soccer team, you both didn’t want to start any unnecessary rumors.

After all, PDA has never been a subject that strongly matters to you and Jay. And you both preferred the privacy. With your relationship being known only to your closest friends and relatives, you feel secure and out of pressure. Away from the prying eyes of others, and the heavy weight of responsibility under your positions.

003. Sim Jaehyun — ❪심재휸❫ ᝰ

The love Sim Jaehyun has for you outweighs any love he has for his grades and for sports. The thought of holding you hand as you both venture the hallways, sitting next to you in lecture halls and in the cafeteria, and overall public display of affection made him giddy to the heart. But he knew better.

He knew it wasn’t possible due to your strict parents. Your parents that loved their child so much that they try so hard to shield you from getting your heart broken by guys. Too bad you were a bit of a rebel.

Jake was your highschool academic rival. And it didn’t change now that you guys are in college and are dating. You knew that if news of your relationship spilled throughout your university, it’ll reach the ears of your parents. After all with your father being the chancellor of the university you both are studying in, it would be hard to keep something like this away from him.

The wrath of your parents was something that you and Jake needed to take count. If your parents ever found out, you fear that they will force you two apart or worse—they will take away Jake’s scholarship.

So you both agreed to keep things lowkey. Only being able to express the love you have for each other behind closed doors. Behind all the cameras set in every hallway in your university, behind the close watch your parents have all over you. Just you and Jake, alone in your own world.

004. Park Sunghoon — ❪박성훈❫ ᝰ

Your friends think that it’s obvious. His accidental shoulder brushes, his occasional glances, and the way his head snaps when he hears your name, it’s painfully obvious.

It’s not as if you guys are trying that hard to hide it anyways. With your position as the star player of the girls basketball, and his as the star player of the boys basketball, you guys can’t really avoid each other that much.

And unfortunately for you, Sunghoon can’t stop straining his eyes on you (not that you mind). It was a silly mission to keep your relationship from your team captains (and the others). The two of you bet on each other that whoever’s captain figured out the first will win and the loser will treat the other for ice cream.

It pains Sunghoon to see that his leader isn’t catching up to his little mission. Whereas on the other hand, Jungwon just shrugged him off thinking that his Sunghoon hyung was just being his odd self.

This bet went over for the span of two months before your captain figured it out. And gosh, Sunghoon doesn’t even care about the ice cream anymore. He’ll buy you all the ice cream you want if it means he’ll be able to hold you in public. If it wasn’t for you being stern on continuing the bet, he would’ve just given up in the middle. But now that it’s over, he can finally embrace you freely, before the news of your relationship spread like a wildfire.

© aernx 2023 / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! let me know if you have any suggestions ! comment ur thoughts, reblogs n likes wld be appreciated <3

[krinsbez]

BattleTech WorldBuilding Thought

So, I get why the BT devs have skimped out on giving the Great Houses all the pageantry and regalia and other nonsense that RL monarchs have, but I don't see why we can't make stuff up. But as a n00b I'm not confident of doing so myself.

I'm just gonna make some suggestions of things we can do, and see if any of y'all have ideas?

-So, traditionally, the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth's throne is flanked by a pair of Griffin BattleMechs. I think they ought to have names. What would be best?

-Crown jewels. Nobody seems to have them, at all. the least we can do is come up with names for their main crowns (because monarchs often have several of those), although we have no descriptions of any of them, so we'd have to make that up ourselves, also.

-I believe the Kurita's Dragon Throne is the only named throne. We can do better (also, the Dragon Throne was the throne of the Emperors of CHINA, not Japan, but the Kuritas getting that detail wrong feels in-character)

-Again, to my knowledge, only the Steiners and Kuritas have their own mottoes, that being "Indomitable Will" and "Honor the Dragon", respectivaly

-To my knowledge, only the Davions have their own Coat of Arms, separate from that of the nation itself, which I don't know enough about heraldry to properly describe in heraldic language, but looks like this:

What would you give the other Houses?

-To my knowledge, the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation is the only one of the Successor Lords that has a Style of any kind, that being "Celestial Wisdom", which sounds impressive until you realize that the short version of King Charles' official royal style (IE, not including his lesser titles, knightly honors, military rank, etc.), specifically in the UK (because he is also King of the Commonwealth realms), is "Charles the Third, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of His other Realms and Territories King, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith". The full version (again, purely royal UK titles) is "the Most High, Most Mighty and Most Excellent Monarch, our Sovereign Lord, Charles III, now, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of His other Realms and Territories King, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, and Sovereign of the Most Noble Order of the Garter". This is in addition to being Addressed or referred as "Your/His Majesty"" (which depending on circumstances may be modified to "Your/His Gracious Majesty", "Your/His Most Excellent Majesty", or "Your/His Britannic Majesty")

Anyways, all the Successor Lords ought to have styles that are at least as grandiose as this, I think? Suggestions?

I have spent way longer on this than I expected, sorry.

[split-spectrum]

Water and Rock

Chapter 17 - Finale

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Major Character Death, Mild Violence

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

A/N: The previous chapter was posted yesterday, so this is it - the final part and epilogue rolled into one. I hope it isn't a let-down after all this time!

Special thanks to everyone who has sent me nice messages, comments, etc. It means the world. It feels great to mark this story complete, and I can't say enough thanks to those of you who have been reading along with each of the updates. Your comments really did help me reach the finish. <3

☆☆☆

Obi Wan takes a breath, letting the Force send out the words calmly and clearly from within him as he steps into the most powerful room in the galaxy.

"Chancellor Palpatine, In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you are under arrest."

Anakin stands at his side, silent.

"Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?" Palpatine responds, lacking the proper measure of shock or fear that should be present in his voice.

Obi Wan keeps his eyes steadily on the man before him. "The senate will decide your fate."

A lightsaber emerges from Palpatine's sleeve, and he feels Anakin tense beside him. The wisened man before them lifts his eyebrows mildly. "It's treason, then."

A red blade bursts forth.

With a speed and accuracy that defies logic, Palpatine launches himself across the room at Obi Wan, who meets the attack with equal ferocity. Knocking his blade wide, Obi Wan feels his teeth rattle from the power of the blow.

Despite the strength behind his strike, Palpatine sends a worried glance at Anakin afterward. He backs off, leaving an opening for Obi Wan to parry.

"Anakin!" he cries out, swiftly and easily dodging Obi Wan's attack. "I told you it would come to this!"

Obi Wan can't stop to look behind himself; can't measure Anakin's reaction. He needs to stay focused, allowing the Force to guide his movements. "Don't speak to him. Your fight is with me."

Palpatine ignores the words, meeting his strikes backhanded and allowing himself to be pressed into a corner, sidling along the long stretch of the window. "The Jedi are taking over!"

"Be silent, Sith." Obi Wan allows himself a fleeting spark of anger, spitting the word at the man responsible for his own master's death. He quickly recollects himself, circling around the chancellor and saying his next words more slowly and clearly. "The oppression of your rule will never return. You have lost."

A flash of hateful, yellow glee oozes from Palpatine's eyes. "No," he says simply, as Obi Wan presses in. "No. No, you will die!"

"Obi Wan!" Anakin cries out at last, lunging for Palpatine just as lightning rockets from the tips of his fingers, sending Obi Wan sprawling across the room. He'd managed to catch the brunt of the blast with his lightsaber, but it was too powerful for him to contain.

He groans against the pain as he stands up, Anakin holding his lightsaber between them, mouth clenched hard and eyes full of fear. "I will not let you kill him."

"Anakin," Palpatine moans, skin scorched from the energy Obi Wan had managed to redirect back at him. "He came here to kill me. Without me, Padmé will die. You must choose."

"Don't listen to him, Anakin," Obi Wan says, frightened by the emotion he sees in Anakin's stare. There should be no doubt behind his eyes, and yet it's all he sees. "He's a traitor."

"I have the power to save the one you love," Palpatine insists, pressing himself helplessly against the window.

Obi Wan's lip curls. "I am going to end this, once and for all."

He swings his blade, only to find it crossed in a shower of blue sparks.

"Anakin, what are you doing?"

When he turns to face him directly, Obi Wan can now see the desperation in his friend's gaze. "He must stand trial."

"He's too dangerous to be left alive."

"I need him."

"Do you truly believe that he will help you?"

A brief flash of uncertainty crosses Anakin's face. Then it's replaced with anger. "Do you truly believe the Jedi seizing power will bring peace?"

Obi Wan hesitates.

"Without a trial, it would be chaos. If you want to save Democracy, he must live!"

Obi Wan clenches his fist around the hilt of his lightsaber, willing the Force to show him the way. But at every turn, all he can see is darkness.

--

"This is what you have prepared for."

The voice is steady, calm. And yet it stokes the fire in your chest even higher.

The deflectors on your ship scream through your hot landing in front of the executive building. Leaping out of the bay doors before the engine cooldown procedure has even begun, you scramble up the stairs to reach the chancellor's office before it's too late.

"You are a conduit of the Force. Let it work through you. Let your feelings guide you."

The disembodied voice accompanies you in the repulsorlift ride to the building's top floor.

"Be quiet" you wish you could tell him. You need to focus. But you know it would be dangerous to push him away this close to the critical moment.

In the rushing stream of your mind, you can hear faint echoes of laughter. You squeeze your eyes shut, then blink them back open when the doors slide apart.

Outside the chancellor's suite, you come to a careful stop. Inside, there is shouting.

For just a moment, you hesitate.

Are you making the right choice?

Maybe you're not as strong as you think you are. Your connection to the Force is more powerful than ever. But maybe you're still as weak as you've always been.

"I have shown you what will become of your master if you choose to do nothing" whispers the voice. "Before you stands the man responsible for all of it. I have foretold this Sith lord's coming, and the pain and suffering he will cause. Fulfill your destiny and bring his defeat."

"If you want to save democracy, he must live!"

You hear Anakin's voice, hoarse and pleading. You cross the threshold, drawn to it. You pull the Force tight around you, like armor. It surges through your veins like a drug.

"You don't believe that," Obi Wan answers, quieter and sharper. "This isn't about democracy. This is about Padmé. This is about your child."

Anakin looks like he's been slapped. "How do you-"

"See how the Jedi lie to you, Anakin," Palpatine crows. "He has known of your secret long before I have. And yet he does nothing to help. Because he cannot help. Only through me can you gain the power to save her."

"He is deceiving you, Anakin. Listen to me- Ahh!"

His entreaty is cut short by a snaking blast of electricity. He falls, gasping, to the floor while Anakin stands motionless.

Too late, he seems to regain his sense long enough to shout, "Stop! Don't hurt him!"

Palpatine's hands lower, the attack ceasing just as you run in front of them. He turns to Anakin while you fall to your knees.

"Obi Wan!"

At the sight of you, his eyes fill with frustration and sadness. "I told you not to come here."

"I told you that I can help."

"Do you see, now?" Palpatine asks, while Anakin stares in surprise at your presence. "The Jedi have planned this. They've come to kill me. You must help me."

"We didn't plan anything," you argue, helping Obi Wan to his feet. "He's the traitor. He's a Sith lord!"

"How do you know that?" Anakin asks, his red-rimmed gaze turning on you.

"We... we've been spying on him for some time," you admit. "It's only now that we've heard the truth."

Obi Wan says your name, low, beneath his breath.

"He's been lying about everything - working to undermine the Jedi all along," you go on, trying to convince Anakin to see the obvious truth. Yet his eyes are fixed on Obi Wan, as if he can't even hear you.

"How..." he asks, forming the word slowly, "...did you know about Padmé? About our child?"

There's an eternity of silence.

You hear the creak of stiff leather bending as Anakin's glove flexes around his mechanical fist.

"You weren't just spying on the chancellor, were you?"

Obi Wan's hand goes out, palm open. "Anakin, I-"

Blue lightning arcs across the room once again, crackling so loudly that Palpatine has to shout to be heard over it. "He admits his betrayal! Kill him! Do it, now!"

"No!" Obi Wan grimaces, his lightsaber catching the flashing strike this time before it can reach his body. His jaw juts forward as he presses hard into the Force, every ounce of his strength keeping the bolt from overwhelming him. If he slips, it will mean death.

There is no more time for reason. There is no more room for Anakin's feelings, or the fate of the Republic, or right, or wrong, or restraint or control.

You let the Force tear through you, the very molecules around you bending to let you pass quicker, warping to allow your hand to find your saber, your saber to find the truest path through the air, and your blade to find the neck of the Sith lord, closing the distance before the blink of an eye.

When Palpatine sends his own waves rippling through the Force, blasting you backward and bringing the fiery edge of his weapon crashing over you, it feels... good.

The most powerful being in the galaxy. And you are meeting him, blow for blow.

You parry, dodge, and whirl as he grunts with the effort of his attacks. Your arms burn, every muscle straining to keep up with the energy racing through you.

When Anakin realizes what's happening, he leaps in your direction, only to be held back by Obi Wan's arm. "Anakin, no!"

"She's going to kill him!"

Palpatine growls, lifting one hand from his saber and using it to drive a fork of energy deep into your body, wracking every muscle until you slam backward against the wall, then stabs at you, boxing you in, controlling your every response.

You can keep up, but just barely. And Obi Wan sees that. He leaps to your aid, only bringing a moment's distraction when Palpatine shocks him to his knees.

You try to gasp his name, but you can hardly breathe, sweat stinging your eyes, teeth gritted in effort. You can't win, you realize. Not like this, anyway. You're managing to stay alive, but not for long.

There has to be a way. You call out to the Force, to the stars, to whatever it will take to win this fight.

And you get an answer.

"You are still holding on. You must open yourself to the true nature of the Force. Let your passion guide you. Let go of all you have been taught and feel what must be done."

Shutting out the battle, letting your body do the work of crossing and uncrossing blades while you look deep inside yourself, you finally see it: You've never been the greatest warrior. It's the mind of your enemy that you know best. That is where your greatest strength lies.

You can sense Palpatine's mind beside your own. You feel his darkness, all the way to its greatest depth. You hear his thoughts, his desires, and even his fears. You begin to move through them, peeling back the layers of his thoughts and wrapping them around your hands like string, winding and winding as you work your way to the core of his being. And when you are deep enough, you begin to tear them apart.

As you slowly feel the strength and speed behind Palpatine's attacks diminish, you hear nothing but the rush of blood, energy, and power. Eventually, his attacks stop altogether, and you're able to concentrate fully on bending his mind to the point of breaking. Palpatine's face contorts as you feel his mind rending from his body, like a form of suffocation. His gaze is blank, looking more shocked than pained. But there is pain. He's overflowing with it.

You stare at him as you watch the sprawling, innumerable folds of his psyche collapse in on themselves, burning to nothing under the weight of your power. As he struggles against you, it's hard not to let up. It hurts, boiling a person's mind under the pressure of your own. His presence in the Force is so great that you can practically see his aura filling the air as it drains away.

When you finally bring your concentration back to the room in which you're standing, it dawns on you that he's been screaming. It only occurs to you when the noises come to an end. His limp body crumples to the floor, and you bring your gaze back to your fellow Jedi.

Anakin's eyes are solely on Obi Wan, who's standing as a barrier between you. They've been fighting. Blood trails from your master's nose and lip. He wipes it with one hand, holding his lightsaber aloft in the other, watching Anakin's movements.

"Anakin, it's done!" You call out, your voice sounding strange and far away as you try to get his attention. "It's over. Palpatine is dead."

But when Anakin looks away from Obi Wan, it's not at you. It's at the body on the floor. He's silent, eyes wide and chest heaving with every breath.

"I don't..." His voice comes out broken, and he doesn't finish the thought. Your heart aches for him, despite your immense relief. You don't know what he will be, after this.

"I have shown you what he will be."

You look around, as if to find the source of the voice, though you know you won't.

"Your job is not yet finished."

"What-"

Before you can speak, you see flashes of images. You've seen them before, but this time, the details are clear.

The person fighting your master. The one surrounded by light and flame. The image of the hand around Obi Wan's throat is suddenly clear. It belongs to Anakin.

You look at him, and within his expression you see the fire, the lava, the seething hatred. Of course, it's Anakin.

"There is one last problem to be dealt with. Your master will never be safe, as long as he lives."

"I won't let you hurt him," you say out loud. How could you not have seen it before? Anakin has fallen. As soon as he made his commitment to Padmé, he was against the Jedi. Against everything Obi Wan stood for.

"I'm alright," Obi Wan says, arm going up in a gesture to calm you, his eyes shifting to you briefly while his body stays firmly set toward Anakin. "It's alright."

"You shouldn't have killed him," Anakin grinds out, staring darkly at you. Tears are beginning to well in his eyes as he seems to fully register what you've done.

"You made the wrong choice," you answer, unafraid of the malice in his voice. "And I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Anakin... but you can't be allowed to live, either."

Obi Wan suddenly turns to you. "What are you-"

You're already rushing past him, hand outstretched to form an invisible clenched fist around Anakin's throat. This time it will be easier. You weren't prepared for some of the ways Palpatine's mind struggled against yours, but as Anakin pushes back, you know exactly where to meet him.

You let the Force completely consume you, pushing your focus away from Anakin and any feelings of doubt. You acknowledge that what you're doing is terrible, in the same way that you acknowledge the weather; it is a fact. It can't be helped.

The alternative is unacceptable.

You begin to press into Anakin's mind, but this time, something is different. You were wrong - this isn't easier. It's more difficult. You're suddenly straining to keep the upper hand. Probably because he knows what to expect. Palpatine hadn't anticipated your sudden overwhelming power. Anakin has seen what you're capable of, and he's ready to fight.

You can feel him using the Force to hold back your hand, and you waver, arm shaking with effort. You grit your teeth, breaking through his mental barriers and feeling the anger beneath.

"I... I see what you are," you pant, dropping the deactivated hilt of your lightsaber on the floor to use both hands to try to choke him at a distance.

"Stop this!" Obi Wan's voice cuts through the cacophony in your mind. "Let him go!"

"You have to trust me," you answer, too short of words to give a proper response. "He's turned to the dark side."

"He made a mistake!"

His distraction is allowing Anakin the opening he needs to fight you, and you can see his hand go for his lightsaber. He's building up the strength to lunge at you. You need to end this.

Obi Wan yells your name, deep in his chest. You hear the anger behind it; the despair. But you can't care about that right now.

"Let him go!"

You ignore him, Anakin starting to slip free of your grasp. Behind you, you can sense Obi Wan swinging his arms up, ready to bring the durasteel hilt of his lightsaber to the back of your head.

It hurts you, to send shooting sparks of pain through the Force and into his mind, but you have no other choice. He doesn't know what he's doing.

He gasps your name, still trying to fight back. "Please-"

You twist your wrist to snap your lightsaber back up from the floor, readying yourself for Anakin's attack. You have to keep him from physically fighting you long enough to break his mind. Either he will die by your hand, or he'll kill you. But as long as you're breathing, you won't let him go.

"Do not do this, I beg you!"

Anakin's neck begins to strain under the pressure of your grip as he writhes against you. He's going to overpower you. Through his thoughts, you can feel him turning his saber, getting it ready. He's pushing back, wrenching you out. You tighten the vice in his head and Anakin cries out sharply, even as the power feels like it's draining from you faster by the second.

You press harder, harder, harder...

Suddenly, a burst of light erupts from the center of your chest, hot and clean and absolute.

It stays there as Anakin stumbles forward, dropped from your hold. For a moment, it doesn't register that the light isn't red. Your mind allows you the mercy of ignorance, imagining that Palpatine must have somehow taken you by surprise. But the thought dissipates as quickly as it had appeared.

Because Palpatine is dead.

And the light is blue.

And the universe stops.

As the blade slides back, you fall to your knees, collapsing back into Obi Wan's arms and looking up into the face of your killer. His blue eyes are wide.

You look into them, searching for an answer.

But all you see is pain.

You're so stunned you can't even speak, silently falling to the floor as he eases you down. How could he do this? Why? After everything...

You hear sudden laughter filling the air around you, and the pain of your injury starts to fade into the background. No, that's not quite right - the pain is still there, but you're... leaving it behind.

You feel yourself floating outside your own body, staring at the man who calls himself brother as he shakes his head, spreading his arms in celebration. The world suddenly goes dim.

"Oh, beautiful. Truly, beautiful."

He's here with you, and yet he's not. You're surrounded by nothingness, but still you can see, or perhaps sense, reality.

"To be put down like an animal by the hand of your own master?" Laughter ripples from him again, as time stands still around you. "You have done your duty more perfectly than I had ever dreamed."

You can't bring yourself to respond to him. You just silently gaze at yourself, held in Obi Wan's arms, too numb to say anything.

It was always meant to end like this." He glances down. "Well, not quite like this. This was... unexpectedly amusing."

Your silence is finally broken as impotent rage sears through you. "You... you never meant to help either of us. You wanted us both dead all along."

He gives a derisive shake of his head. "You are looking too closely. You can't see the broader picture. Shall I tell you, before you die, what your part was, in all of this?"

You leave him an indignant silence. It's clear that he has every intention of telling you, no matter what you say. It's why time has stopped - for him to gloat. For you to suffer.

"I have known you for much longer than you realize, my pet."

You seethe, but say nothing in return. Your head is still spinning, still trying to catch up.

"I first came to you as a youngling, as you were brought to the Jedi temple. There were many younglings to choose from, but your strength in the Force surpassed all the others. I believed Kenobi would certainly take you on, but he chose no one, and you were taken by another."

You want to argue - to correct him. You didn't surpass anyone. You've always had a weak connection; unsteady, unsure.

"I was forced to suppress your strength, so that you could not advance. With each new master, I further imbalanced your physical connection to the Force until there was almost nothing left. By the time you were finally placed with the right master, you were lacking in every aspect of the Force except mental."

You feel weak. It can't be true. Your entire existence, shaped by this sadistic creature?

"But... why? What for?"

He looks pleased that you've asked. "To protect my own apprentice. The Chosen One: Anakin Skywalker."

He pauses as you look at him in shock and dread.

Then he shakes his head, looking irritated as he goes on. "But chosen by whom? Soon enough, he would be chosen by a narrow-minded Sith lord who would bring about his own apprentice's downfall. Anakin Skywalker could be the greatest force of darkness to ever exist. His empire would reign for generations, and no longer would I be relegated to the meager corners of the galaxy. But I foresaw the future that awaited him. Would you like to know what you have prevented?"

Fear pulls at you. It would probably ease your spirit not to know. But you can't look away. You can't give yourself that undeserved mercy. He reaches out to touch you, and the knowledge pours in.

"I will do what I must." ... "You will try." ... "You were the chosen one! It was said that you would bring balance to the Force. Not leave it in darkness!" ... "It seems, in your anger, you killed her." ... "I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father." ...

"I am a Jedi. Like my father before me."

You see it all play out in what feels like years, and only an instant. The duel on Mustafar. Anakin's great loss. His son. Palpatine controlling every aspect of his life until Obi Wan's eventual triumph through Luke. Freedom, and death.

The galaxy would have been saved, had you not killed Palpatine before his time. Now, the brother's vision for the future is set in stone.

"So you see, my child, what needed to be done was clear: Skywalker's defeat on Mustafar must never happen, and Palpatine must die. You were chosen for this purpose, and you accomplished more than I'd ever imagined."

You try to speak a full sentence, but your voice is lost. All you can manage is, "How...?"

He gives a delighted smirk. "It was quite simple, really. I could never have convinced Kenobi to stay on Coruscant rather than pursue his pointless war on Utapau, eventually leading to Mustafar. He is too cunning for tricks, too devoted to his duty to give way to fear. But, if his trusted padawan were to beg him not to go..."

The horror of what you've done washes over you.

"There would be no fooling Kenobi through his mind. His heart was another matter."

His words seep into you, turning your insides. Your relationship - everything you'd done together; everything you'd experienced, has all been a lie. You're nothing more than a tool. A weapon. You were manufactured, and so were your feelings. All a product of your hidden purpose.

You look down at your own shocked expression as your body lays dying in Obi Wan's arms. It can't be. It just can't be.

Eventually, you look back up, needing to have all the answers, whether they're true or not.

"And... what about Palpatine? How did you know I could win?"

He smiles again. "I have told you, my child - the Force has always been strong with you. Can you imagine what an entire lifetime of struggling against my suppression has done for you? You were trained by Kenobi in spite of your limitations. Without them, you were nearly a match for Palpatine's strength. Not to mention, you had my assistance." He quirks a brow. "It was not difficult for me to hide your true power from him until it was too late."

You stare back at the scene in front of you - at Anakin's crumpled form. "And Anakin?"

"I needed only to fool you into fighting him, then bring you back under my thumb long enough for him to end your life. Kenobi would soon follow, too distraught to be a match for him, and Anakin would finally take his rightful place in the seat of power."

He turns to look where your gaze is trained. "However, this development has advantages as well. Perhaps he's outsmarted even me, in siding with Skywalker. In betraying you, your master has saved himself." His voice takes on a satisfied quality, becoming even more condescending as he looks back at you. "So you see, we all got what we wanted, in the end."

As you stare into the souless depths of his burning eyes, a thought emerges. You suddenly realize: He does not have the power that you thought he did.

He is not all-knowing. And it hasn't all been fabricated - not all of it.

Because he doesn't know Obi Wan.

And the tiniest spark of hope flickers back to life.

"Except that's... not true," you tell him.

"In what way?" he asks, unperturbed. He seems almost bored that you're still talking.

No matter what he has planned next to complete Anakin's fall to the dark side, it doesn't matter. As long as Obi Wan lives, so will the light. Palpatine wasn't his greatest enemy. And if he believed that, then his entire plan was flawed from the start.

But you don't tell him that. There's only one mistake that you're willing to share with him. Because it isn't over. Not yet. Not until you take your last breath.

You stare hard into the face of the being who has made you into an instrument for evil, corruption and death. "You said that my master betrayed me. But that isn't true. I see that now."

He huffs a laugh as time begins to crawl to a slow start again, your consciousness pulling back to your dying body. "You can frame it however you like. It's over now."

A sad, yet certain smile comes out as you freely tell the truth to a being who doesn't care to hear it.

"You think Obi Wan betrayed me to save himself?"

He gives a disinterested shrug. "Perhaps not himself, but Anakin certainly."

"He didn't betray anyone. I betrayed myself. He did exactly what I should have done. What he had the strength to do, and I never did."

He isn't listening anymore, and you can hear your own voice fading. But it's alright. You aren't speaking to him anymore.

"He let me go."

As all the pain of a mortal body envelops you again, you find yourself glowing with a light soul and a new mission. The shroud that has followed you your entire life is gone, and it wasn't until your death that you could finally see things clearly.

Obi Wan is silently kissing your forehead as he cradles your limp form, eyes shining bright with unshed tears.

You smile, lifting a hand to place it at his cheek. "Obi Wan, don't worry. I'm okay."

He chokes out your name, stunned and questioning. He can recognize the difference immediately. You've been so far beyond yourself that he can't believe you've come back.

You want to tell him all of it. You want to apologize until the last of your strength leaves you. You want to lie here in his arms, just feeling his warmth for the last moments you have together. But that isn't what needs to be done.

"Please," you manage. "I need to get to Palpatine."

He looks down at you in confusion, and you glance up at Anakin, who's still on his knees where you left him. He stares at you with a mix of anger, distrust, and pity. You try again. "Please, help me. I have to save him."

Obi Wan hesitates, looking behind you, then back at your face. "I don't understand," he murmurs tight in his throat. "Why?"

"There's..." You wince as you try to speak. "...no time. Please."

Gently pulling away, Obi Wan does as you ask, while Anakin watches with uncertainty. He helps you struggle to move a few feet across the floor until you're kneeling over Palpatine's body.

You place a hand on his chest and concentrate all your will on him. You know what it is to have the Force fill you completely, and you hang onto that feeling, allowing it to flow through you without holding anything back.

One advantage of being trained in all the Jedi arts, despite not being  in any of them: You know how to heal. And at your full potential, you're able to pull someone back from the brink of death.

Slowly, all three of you watch as Palpatine's chest starts to rise and fall again, taking shallow breaths. You pour everything you have into it, letting the last of your life drain away into this Sith lord who represents everything you hate; everything you stand against.

But you're no longer filled with hatred, or fear. You no longer have apprehensions about allowing Obi Wan to face whatever comes next. You realize now that any control you thought you had was an illusion. And more importantly, you realize the depth of your betrayal in putting your master's life before the lives he fought to protect.

When you can feel Palpatine's life force stabilize, you reach out and touch the most critical part - his mind. It is intact, but barely. He will never recover what you have destroyed. You can feel him rising back to consciousness, confused, lost and grasping for direction.

You let go of his mind, collapsing again to the floor as you reach the end of your strength. Obi Wan catches you, holding you gently, his hand behind your head. He gazes down at you. "I don't understand. Why have you done this?"

You give him a smile, the warmest one you can manage. You try to find the words, and eventually settle on, "Anakin was right. He must live."

He's silent, looking up and down your body as if there was something he could do. But he isn't a healer. And you're too gravely wounded, anyway. His eyes fix on the hole in your chest, then he blinks and looks away, pulling you closer in his arms. "I'm sorry. If there had been any other way..."

He fades off as you use the exhausted muscles in your neck to slowly shake your head. "There was no other way."

He looks as if you've pierced his heart by saying it, absolving him at the same time as he condemns himself. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes tightly shut. "I have failed you. This... darkness within you... I never realized..."

You wish you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into the warmth of your body, but you're too weak to move, and the room is growing dim. Instead, you speak so softly you can hardly hear yourself.

"I wish there was more time. Wish I could tell you... how wrong you are."

He pulls back to look into your eyes, head leaning to the side, face pinched with anguish. He shakes his head, whispering, "No."

You don't know if he's not allowing you to forgive him, or fighting with the reality of your death as it closes in, but you need to tell him. You need him to understand.

Soft, fuzzy blackness spreads from the corners of your vision. You push through it, willing your mouth to form the words as his hand clutches yours.

"All my life has been darkness, Obi Wan. And... and I never knew why. But because of you... the light never left me."

--

Epilogue...

It's quiet, for a time. And then, everything is so, so loud.

You can hear it, feel it, see it all. The entire universe is humming through you. You blink into the light.

And you realize, you have eyes.

That shouldn't be.

You are a part of the living Force. You shouldn't be able to feel, or move, or think.

You look down, and you see your own arms, your own legs. You feel different, but the same. You are still yourself. But you are whole. You feel a peace you've never felt before. And then you hear a voice.

"Well done, young one."

He's sort of shimmering, like a mirage or a vision. But he's most certainly real.

"Master Qui Gon?"

Standing in his robes, just as you remember him from every holo you'd seen, he gives you a muted smile. "Welcome."

You look around, still surprised at your ability to look at anything. It's as if there's a film between reality and where you are now. You can see everything, but it's distant and blurred. Everything is surrounded by a soft glow.

"Where am I? I... I thought I died. Have I not joined the living Force?"

"Indeed you have, padawan. And you have been given a great honor. You may remain as yourself, if you so choose."

You can only stare, questioning. You nearly correct him, to tell him you're a Jedi Knight, but you realize there's no purpose for such a title here.

He seems to read your thoughts. "There is much you have still to learn, my young friend. I am here to guide you."

You're at a loss, but ready for whatever may come next. "What... what will you teach me?"

He smiles again. "Whatever you wish to know."

Immediately, your attention turns to where Obi Wan and Anakin remain, behind the veil. You have only one question, and it's more important than anything you've ever asked.

"Did I make the right choice?"

"A relative question."

You try again, more honest this time. "Will they live? Will the Republic... and the galaxy..." You shake your head, turning back to him. "Will everything be alright?"

Qui Gon places his hand, or the idea of his hand, gently on your shoulder, turning you away from the scene and into a white abyss. "That answer would depend upon your point of view. But before you decide, let us see the outcome that you have prevented."

Before you, a future that will never be plays out.

"Execute Order 66."

Obi Wan, shot down by... clone troopers. His own men?

Falling to his death - the vision is already burned into your mind.

But... it wasn't his death. You'd been deceived in every way imaginable. Obi Wan swims to the surface, to escape.

He is one of very few survivors.

Ki Adi Mundi. Shaak Ti. Plo Koon. Jedi after Jedi is cut down, murdered in cold blood by the Grand Army of the Republic. So many lives, lost. Even the younglings.

Mace Windu loses his life, too, but at the hand of Palpatine himself. The images look eerily familiar.

Anakin falls to the dark side. The temple burns.

Scenes are speeding up now - there is so much death. Jedi. Clones. Innocent bystanders.

Padmé.

The creation of the Death Star. Entire worlds destroyed in the blink of an eye.

And Obi Wan... alive, but alone. Watching over Anakin's son. Betrayed by those he cared for most.

The Jedi Order is gone, and the galaxy will never be the same.

When the vision ends, Qui Gon pulls back his hand and looks at you curiously. "Do you recall your teachings by Master Yoda, regarding the future?"

You nod, letting go of what you've seen. "The future is always in motion."

A light shines behind Qui Gon's eyes. "I seem to remember him phrasing it differently, yet the sentiment is there."

You brighten along with him, but it's still impossible to smile in the center of all your grief. "Then... the future that will happen now...?"

He's quiet for a moment, letting you find the answer yourself. You realize what he means. You'll have to watch it unfold for yourself.

"We will wait and see, padawan. Your work is done. It is time to rest."

And as you slowly let go of your anxieties, your doubts, and your fears, knowing there is nothing more you can do to change things, you feel your soul grow lighter.

It's then that you realize it - the weight you'd carried for so long has finally been lifted.

With time, and with teaching, you are able to find peace. The brother - the Son, as you come to know him through Qui Gon's knowledge is not able to reach you here. When you give yourself over to the Force, it's no longer a violent wave threatening to carry you away from yourself. Connecting to the Force and letting it flow through you makes you feel more yourself than you ever have.

Throughout your time with Obi Wan, you had always thought of him as your steady rock, keeping you from being swept away in the stream of the Force. But at long last, you understand - you've been the rock, stubbornly holding onto your anxieties. Forced to live in fear and limiting yourself as the darkness pressed in, holding you captive, too afraid to let go. Obi Wan has only ever been trying to teach you to become like water and flow into the rest of the universe.

If only you could tell him.

But you let that thought go, and eventually, you fade into the energy that surrounds the galaxy, to experience beauty like never before.

You travel from planet to planet, observing, listening and learning. You see your friends as they live their lives. You let yourself be carried away by time and space, watching everything happen through the lens of the Force.

Palpatine is taken into custody by the Jedi council. By leaving him alive, yet in a catatonic state, you made it possible for him to be questioned, and to uncover the depth of his lies and manipulation. Many months pass as his secrets are untangled, giving the council all the proof they need to negotiate the many, many treaties required. Senator Bail Organa, rather than meeting his end on Alderaan, has a long and successful career working alongside the Jedi to broker peace across the galaxy.

Mace Windu returns from Utapau, successful in his mission to defeat Grievous. The Separatist threat is over. Or, never truly existed.

The road is long and arduous, but with the help of Master Yoda and the rest of the council, arrests are made, compromises are found, and civilizations are rebuilt after the war.

The council, however, is one member short, soon after the fighting ends.

Obi Wan stays true to his word, leaving the Jedi Order to find a solitary existence on Saleucami.

You watch as he creates an idyllic homestead, filled with crops well tended and animals well cared for. It's a quiet life. One he deserves. And his leaving the order gives Anakin the courage to do the same.

Anakin and Padmé welcome the twins together on Naboo, surrounded by friends and family. Obi Wan even visits, occasionally.

Padmé's death, like Obi Wan's, was a deception; a lie fed to Anakin by Palpatine, just as the son lied to you. Anakin will struggle with his connection to the Force for the rest of his life. But with the help of Jedi mind healers, he learns to let go of his fears. No longer under Palpatine's influence, he finally manages to find peace.

Meanwhile, throughout Obi Wan's time on Saleucami, while his days are filled with light, they are equally filled with doubt. And his nights are filled with regret.

You can feel his pain radiating through the Force, calling out to you, and you can't help but come to his side. With only a few feet, and yet all of time and space between you, you listen as he whispers his thoughts aloud.

"Please, Master... if you hear me... please..."

He stays like this for minutes, sometimes hours, just watching the emptiness. It isn't just meditation. It's something more broken than that. A call in the darkness. A plea for help.

"Master Yoda has told me that you've appeared to him. That I am to learn from you once again. If that is true, you must help me. I need your guidance."

Silence answers.

"I... I don't know how to... move forward. If what I have done is unforgivable. If there was truly no way to save her."

You find yourself whispering back, knowing he can't hear you but trying anyway. "You did save me. You saved everyone."

But it's no use. And after the silence drags on, he puts himself to bed, no closer to acceptance. No closer to hope.

You spend so many nights at his side, telling him the truths he'll never hear.

"If only it had been me." / "No, Obi Wan. Don't say that."

"There must have been another way." / "There wasn't. There never was."

"I could have used reason. I could have tried harder to reach her." / "I was too far gone. Nothing would have brought me back."

One night, he blinks back tears as he listens to the darkness for the hundredth time. Then he whispers your name.

"Forgive me," He sighs, taking in a shuddering breath. "I've made so many mistakes, and I can never set things right."

You close your eyes, remembering the words he'd told you long ago.

"You do not need my forgiveness, my master. But you have it."

As you watch him, heart tearing apart at your inability to reach him, you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder. You turn to look up at Qui Gon. You want to ask him why he doesn't answer Obi Wan. Why he won't bring him the the relief that he needs.

But you already know the answer.

Qui Gon watches him with a solemn gaze.

"He will not hear until he is ready."

--

It's a beautiful day in artifical Spring on Coruscant when that time finally comes.

It's been over a year since Obi Wan has created a life for himself on Saleucami. If one could call what he's doing living. Part of him died the moment his blade touched you. He'll never be the same, and he knows it.

But there are still reasons to go on living. And visiting the temple is one of those reasons.

Over a cup of tea in Mace Windu's quarters, the truth emerges, and drives straight through Obi Wan's heart.

"Wh- what are you saying? She never said these things to me."

It had been a long discussion, catching up on internal government politics, friends and acquaintances, and temple life, when the topic had turned to you, and Obi Wan's coping with your loss. In recounting your final conversation, Mace had divulged a long and intricate list of details. Ones you had never shared with Obi Wan. Ones that would have almost certainly led to Mace's failure to capture Grievous, and possibly, to his own death.

"That cannot be," Obi Wan whispers to himself. None of the things you'd told Mace line up with any of the few details you'd given him.

"The instructions the commander provided would have led us straight into a trap. Thankfully, we had the necessary recon to avoid it. But that is exactly what she told me. She swore she'd told you as well. I would have questioned you, but your resignation was so soon afterward..."

He trails off, and Obi Wan is left speechless.

Your fall to the dark side hadn't happened suddenly. It had been a long time coming. You had been willing to send an innocent man to his death.

How long had you been planning this? How long had you suffered in the dark? 

It wouldn't have stopped with Anakin. You would have killed anyone who you perceived as a threat. Anyone who stood in your way. Your fear and anger had turned you long before you killed Palpatine.

Whatever had twisted your mind, you'd kept it hidden from him for a long time.

He remembers your words: "All my life has been darkness..."

He begins to understand you may have had more to tell him. Words you never had a chance to say. That he may not have been wholly responsible for what happened.

When he meditates upon what you said about the light, he makes the first step in deciding the rest of his life: Whether he believes he made the right choice or the wrong one, whether he is Jedi or not, whether he made mistakes... he has a responsibility. He must always turn back to the light.

And that night, back in his bed, for the first time since you've been gone, he can swear he feels your presence beside him.

--

 

Ten Years Later

"It is good to have you here, Master Kenobi."

He grins, winding his arm in a slow circle with his hand on his shoulder, loosening up from the long ride to Courkrus. "Happy to be here, Master Luminara. I hear the pirate hoardes are lovely this time of year."

She gives a half-roll of her eyes at his familiar irreverence, but she smiles, too.

"The main front has moved to the West side of the mountains, here." She indicates a broad swath of land on the holomap as they begin their hike toward the village. "We have a perimeter set up throughout most of the Southern hills, but there will still be a lot of work to do in the coming days if we expect to push back in time for the harvest."

It had taken Obi Wan some time to return to his seat on the council. Another year had passed on Saleucami after his conversation with Mace Windu. But it had been the missing piece he'd needed to let go of blame, let go of regret, and reconnect with himself and the Force. Eventually, he found himself strong enough to start to live again.

And one fateful night, long after he had stopped calling out for his master, he finally heard the voice of Qui Gon calling out to him.

Before he could stop himself, your name left his lips. He needed to know; Qui Gon had to tell him. Everything. Anything.

But his old master had simply smiled and told him there was much he still needed to learn.

Qui Gon instructed him in following a new path - one that would help him retain his consciousness, even after death. A privilege reserved for those powerful and humble enough to attain it.

His training continues, even now, as he feels the familiar pulse of the Force flowing through him, heading into battle yet again, to defend a small farming village from a gang of pirates terrorizing the local star system.

It feels good to be of use, Obi Wan is thinking, just as a spike of warning jolts through the Force and he turns to see a child toddling outside the village gates.

Luminara is fast at his side as he leaps forward, slicing his lightsaber through the air and blocking a rocket missile barreling toward the gate. It explodes in front of them, knocking the child backward as Obi Wan bears the brunt of the heat, pushing it back with an outstretched hand.

"Get the child inside!" he shouts, knowing Luminara is already moving to do so, but absolving her of any hesitation in waiting for him. "Go!"

The village gate slams shut behind them, and Obi Wan is just about to gracefully leap over the wall when something catches his eye in the distance.

It's a pulse cannon. These are no ordinary ruffians. This is an organized invasion.

He hesitates before getting inside the walls of the village. They won't stand a chance against this kind of firepower at close range. He has to take it out before it can make it over the hill.

He's not a young man anymore, but he's fairly certain he can outpace the slow artillery unit as it crawls its way closer. Darting in a zig-zag pattern across the open plain, he's already closing in before they've even realized they're a target. Raising his lightsaber, he nears the enemy, and all at once he realizes why the view port hasn't been turned in his direction.

Outside the gates behind the opposite side of the village, a small militia has been gathered by the pirates and are standing, disarmed, awaiting their execution by blaster. Obi Wan glances back at the cannon.

He can save the villagers, but he would never have time to close the distance back to the cannon. He would be an easy target.

Luminara would see the cannon in time to save the rest of the village. He knew that much. But she couldn't help the ones in front of him, now. There's only one choice to make.

He dashes in front of the line of pirates, severing the ends of their readied blasters all in one fell swoop. As they stare at him in bewilderment, he frees the villagers from their restraints with another flick of his lightsaber and turns to run, knowing that the pulse cannon has already locked onto him.

The light is blinding, his body wracked with shock as his muscles freeze mid-step, and it's over in an instant.

In the end, it didn't hurt as much as he'd expected.

The legendary Obi Wan Kenobi meets his fate at the hands of a backwater gang of pirates. It's almost enough to make him laugh, as he fades away into the cosmos.

--

 

For ten years, or none, you've been a part of the Force. It seems like eons and no time at all.

Your own death was a moment ago and so long ago it was the beginning of the universe. You've experienced wonderful things and grown so much since then, and yet it's all passed in the blink of an eye.

And suddenly, at long last, you feel it: A new soul has joined the light.

Across time and space, you recognize it.

And you run to it. Of course you do. You are the Force. And the Force has always loved Obi Wan.

When you see him, he's carrying the soft smile he's only ever held for you. He's filled with light, and you know he's succeeded in his training, to remain as himself, the same as you. Qui Gon will be so proud.

Everything you need to tell him - that you will tell him, fades away. The past has no bearing now that you are both finally free. There is no time at all, and you have all the time you could ever want.

Your eyes are filled with tears as you cross the distance, and when he catches you, it feels like everything's changed, and yet nothing has. As you fall into his arms, he sighs with pure, uncomplicated joy. The only difference is that his voice is a little deeper, a little softer in your ear.

"Hello, my love."

The End.

--

Masterlist

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[notelcol]

In which John Murphy steps out of his comfort zone.

Trigger warning : blood, reference to violence.

No one asked for this one but it’s here anyway and vaguely edited 😈

(It came out a little longer than intended, I got ever so slightly carried away…)

When Murphy came back from the grounder prison camp, despite him being the bully of all the delinquents, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. What did Bellamy expect after exiling his once second in command? We should have seen this coming. The grounders would have been fools not to take Murphy for all the information he had. Blood was smeared all over him. You couldn’t tell where it was originating he had that many wounds. The image of his torture made you shudder. Even his fingernails had been ripped from his fingers. You looked away. Forgetting all the times you had needed to confront him to protect others, you made a choice.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked Clarke, the only person with medical experience.

“You can find someone to go with you to the path that leads to Mount Weather.” She said with a sigh. “The poison sumac there would be really helpful.” The tired blonde uttered her thanks, while you left to find Octavia. She would most certainly accompany you.

Murphy watched through one eye, since his other was tightly inflamed. He could not fathom why you would be willing to risk your life leaving camp, simply to acquire a calming herb to ease his plight. Especially because the last time you saw each other, you were fighting him to save a child. A child who murdered the chancellors son, and got him hung to within an inch of his own life. Murphy hated you for that, so why didn’t you? The child you were trying to save did die because of him after all. He was a black and white sort of man. One who never understood forgiveness. A person would come to blows once and that’s it, they are dead to him. He always stood by those very rules. Until you, who only fought him in the name of peace. Which is why risking yourself to help someone who truly needs it, came natural to you. Even if it meant giving a second chance to someone like Murphy.

Unfortunately none of the hundred felt the same way as you. After failing to find Octavia, you begun asking around camp for someone to go with you. When that also failed miserably, you decided to grab a gun and head out alone.

The expedition went as well as you could have hoped. You did not feel the many eyes of the forest on you for once. In fact, it was so calm outside of camp that it almost spooked you. You decided to grab extra of the plant while you were there, to save Clark and Fin a job. Finally, your bag was full and it was time to turn back. You realised that you were a little bit out of breath after a few steps. You must have been picking the flowers for longer than you thought.

The walk back to camp felt much more tiring, so your feet began to drag. You could feel the sweat dripping all over your body, particularly annoying you around your top lip. Huffing, you removed your coat and wiped away the sweat from your face with it. You moved to tie it around your waist, only to be hit by a wavering buzz. It sent your whole body spinning. You watched your coat drop to the floor and finally noticed the blood. All that blood, covering most of the garment. You were so dazed that you didn’t even notice you had fallen.

“Get. Up.” You growled to yourself. Sputtering thick crimson, you clawed at the mud. This must be biological warfare. Your symptoms too similar to Murphy’s to be a coincidence. This revelation only cemented your determination to get this poison sumac back to camp. If you had caught it, then others must have too. Your mind went round in loops while your arms refused to rest. Until you inevitably exhausted yourself and dropped your head to the forest floor.

Murphy was finally starting to feel better. The countless patients in the drop ship could not say the same. As he gave water to a quiet girl named Fox, the fabric around the drop ship door ruffled loudly. Miller came rushing in with you slumped in his arms, blood and dirt covered you to the point where you were almost unrecognisable. He watched as you were dropped into a hammock. A strange feeling, one he could not identify, filled his chest as your bag spilled open revealing the many poison sumac flowers you had brought back.

You awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet on your forehead. You groaned at the heaviness in your lungs, which only caused the blood to gurgle and spurt from your mouth. As you choked, your eyes shot open to be faced by Murphy. His eyes almost went as wide as your own as he quickly removed the cold cloth from your head and pushed you onto your side. Your breath shook in relief. Instantly oxygen came easier, and the blood drained away.

“Rest.” He spoke in a softer tone than you thought was even possible from Murphy. Of their own accord, your eyes fell closed once more. The blood was wiped from your face in a manner that felt more like caress, helping you drift away peacefully to your dreams.

For the first time in his life, Murphy had entered his personal grey area. Your undeserved kindness showed him the world through a lens other than his own rage and paranoia. He decided then and there that he would take care of you until you recovered. Allowing himself to believe it was getting even, when really it was something else entirely. It was simply another thing he had yet to understand.