#he must have felt every comm message he got that obi-wan sent to anakin

[tennessoui]

I am a greedy monster who wants MORE MORE and is like, "big bang Christmas epilogue?" But also - THE VOLCANO. Quinlan making the kind of ruthless choices for the greater good that he does and then being bewildered that people on Team Good are objecting! ANAKIN KNOWING WHEN OBIWAN WOKE UP AND ASKING FOR IMMEDIATE EXTRACTION.

at first I read this as asking for a Christmas themed continuation of the Big Bang fic and i was fascinated by what that would look like. Vader has a crisis of conscience and gives obi-wan space for life day. Obi-Wan has a crisis in response and regifts that cause why would he want that. Be serious.

Vader and obi-wan also gift the council with valuable information via encrypted comm link from Obi-Wan to Windu (“not kidnapped, taking a holiday/sabbatical, don’t respond cause I can’t talk to yall right now, Sidious is Palpatine apparently xoxo obi-wan”)

obi-wan eventually gifts anakin a kiss on the forehead cause he believes in baby steps when rehabilitating a sith. anakin freezes over for 2-4 hours in response

[duxhess-kryzewan]

something with soulmates? maybe where markings appear when your soulmate is injured/in pain? or whatever you think would work best

- Soul Colors - 

She had always wondering what it was that her soul mate was doing. 

From a young age Satine watched as the blue lines came and went with such frequency she often wondered if he was going to get himself killed before she would ever meet him. Or, alternatively, if he were simply a volatile person from the start. A stark contrast to the world she was trying to build. 

She wasn’t quite fond of either option. 

Sometimes they were so sudden that even she could feel their ache. She had been told that soulmates rarely experienced each others actual pain unless the wound inflicted was severe. It worried her when it happened. If even she could feel the affects lasting for days on end, surely whoever he was must have been seriously injured. She doesn’t even want to fathom how excruciating it must feel for him. 

Still, she grew used to the phantom lines over time. So much so that she seldom dwelled on what was happening as the years went by. Clearly it was simply another day to him.

That all changed when the Jedi were sent to protect her. 

It took them both longer than they would have liked to admit to notice. After all, Satine was so caught up in worrying about her planet and Obi-Wan in protecting her that they hadn’t noticed their twin markings popping up now and then. Until Obi-Wan dropped her on Draboon, that is. 

The cut on the palm of her hand was nothing too serious (though she was angry at his clumsiness all the same) and it was only when he reached out to inspect the wound that they both caught sight of his own palm, an identical blue line running along his skin. They had both frozen in place, blood still trickling down her hand as they stared. So, that was why he had experienced so much pain and injury. At least now she had an answer. 

Things were different after that. 

They had agreed that it wouldn’t change anything in the end. Many people go all their lives without finding their soulmate, and even more people choose someone else over them. She never quite understood why until now. Sometimes circumstances are just too drastic for people to be together. 

“We both have a path to walk Satine,” He had told her one night, “Sadly I don’t think ours is meant to be walked together for much longer.”

It wouldn’t have mattered, she decided, even if they hadn’t been each others soul mate. She would have fallen in love with him either way. She knows because she was already halfway there before they figured it out.

On the last night before they were due to part, she spent her time tracing his scars. Of course she remembers some of the worst ones, how they appeared quickly and without notice, how one minute her skin would be clear and the next covered in thin blue lines or indigo splotches. He had noticed hers too, much to her surprise. The occasional paper cut or scrape of the knee.

“Do try to be a bit more careful,” She told him when they parted, “Covered in marks is not very becoming of a lady.”

He had laughed and told her he would try. 

For years she had watched her skin turn color. Some days were worse than others. She always had the urge to comm him and ask if he was okay, but she knew better. That was never part of the deal. 

When the Jedi order had sent him once again to protect her - this time from the death watch - she searched his body again, running her hands along all the knew markings that would never fade for him and she knew that no matter how long their agreement to walk their own paths stood, she would always love him, scars and all. 

The day it happened was sunny and warm on Mandalore, her palace quiet. She had been sorting through a stack of documents that required her signature when the pain consumed her.

It was blinding. The pain came coursing across her back, lighting up her skin with a storm of blue and for the first time it was more than a dull ache. It was searing hurt.

It lasted for days, the pain coming in waves, crashing into her relentlessly. She thought it would never stop. She thought he would surely die. She thought so many things that in the end she didn’t know what to think. All she was sure about was that whatever torture Obi-Wan was being subjected too had to be the worst pain imaginable.

And then it stopped, suddenly and without warning.

She thought he died. 

Padme hadn’t known if he was alive or dead, only that Anakin was still breathing. 

She got desperate.

The urge overcame her one night while she paced her bedroom, glancing in the mirror every so often, waiting for something to appear on her skin. When nothing came, she picked up a hair pin from her dresser and jabbed it into her skin hard enough to draw blood and scratched a question mark into her arm. And then she waited, hoping with all that she had that he would see it. That he would understand the message. That he was alive. The anticipation was almost enough to bring her to tears. 

The faint blue that appeared on the top of her hand actually did bring her to tears and she never thought she would be so happy to see a ghost of an injury come across her body.

A month later he had shown up on her doorstep, wounds healing but still visible, eyes a bit more hollow than they were when he left her last, but it didn’t matter to her. He was there and he was alive. 

He kissed her hard and fast and it felt like coming up for air.

“The Kadavo slave camps,” He had explained to her that night, “It’s the worst thing imaginable.”

Her back was pressed to his bare chest, his arms locked around her waist, nose pressed into her now tangled hair. If she tried she could still remember the stinging that raced across her back during those days. 

“I was scared you had died.” She confessed, burrowing herself more securly against him, “All that pain and then suddenly, nothing. It stopped. I thought-”

She can’t bring herself to say it out loud again.

His sigh tickles her skin and she relishes in the sensation.

“I had worried about you. What you may have thought. I had heard of course, the more intense the pain is, the more likely the other person was to start feeling it. I knew you must have felt it.”

“I was afraid.” She says.

“I’m sorry.”

She knew he was, and she was sorry too. 

He kisses the back of her neck as she slips into a dreamless sleep, “I love you.”

The markings of a soulmates pain come and go, but this she knows will linger forever. 

“I love you too.”