#nobody blamed the light saber

[hansoushop]

(via "Rainbow Lightsabers: A Whimsical Vintage Journey Through Colors" Sticker for Sale by HanSou)

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.�� “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

I wish you would write a fic where... we got to see Jedi Master Dooku in the light

(For this)

So do I, anon! Yoda’s vision of a world at peace never fails to break my heart. There’s just so much potential to an actually haughty Jedi Master who is extremely learned and pretty wise but weirdly petty and snobbish. I feel like he'd wear white, spend all his time complaining about the Council even though he’s still on it, and Obi-Wan would very, very, very obviously be his favorite. He’d probably have some fondness for Ahsoka because she's not completely 'ruined' yet, but blame everything he doesn’t like about Anakin on Qui-Gon and not Obi-Wan lmao.

As for how I’d go about the actual story – I guess I’d just have Dooku do a lot of soul-searching and still leave the Order but come back after a few years before having met Sidious, maybe out of pride because they obviously can't get by without him. ((Or I’d just write semi-serious crack and have AU!Dooku be pulled from the Netherworld of the Force, meet his evil double and just immediately decide to kick his own ass because clearly nobody else present is competent enough to do it.))

Here, have a snippet:

Gazing into dark eyes framed by deep lines on aged skin, Yoda felt a spark of hope where before there had only been weariness. Those human eyes, he recognized them from years long gone, from the last time he had been Master only to one and always looking up to those dark eyes that held respect and a boundless desire for knowledge, and no small amount of pride. Dark as the night sky were Padawan Dooku’s eyes, black but full of light if one really looked. Distant light, hard to reach.

His old apprentice’s light, he had feared forever out of reach. Muddy green eyes peered into black ones for a long time, searching. At length, Yoda asked:

“Returned you have, my Padawan?”

“Yes,” Dooku answered, and he did not reject the title.

Yoda’s ears ever so slightly perked up. And then, to his amazement – and it was amazing in itself that his old Padawan could still amaze Yoda – Dooku gravely knelt and bowed his head.

“If you will allow it, Master,” Yoda’s old, old, aged Padawan said gravely. Still every bit as proud was his deep voice, but in the Force humility echoed.

Elation bloomed silently in the Force between them, betrayed only by the twinkle in their eyes. Dooku’s lightsaber, called to Yoda’s hand, shone a bright blue.

“Change clothes, you should,” Yoda only said, floating the saber back to Dooku and letting his smile peek through his serene countenance.

He shuffled away to go make tea, confident that his Padawan would join him soon, dressed in the pristine tunics of the Order he had too long been away from.

(Yes I know Jedi don't have to wear the tunics and robes, but I feel like Dooku would need to, just to remind himself if nobody else of the choice he has made - and Yoda would know that.)

[justwaytomuchfun]

Now exams are over and I was re-watching clone wars,rebels and some of the films and I actually re watched force awakens (I actually like it don’t Judge me) and I remembered the hype around rey’s parents before big daddy palps entered the scene and I actually thought of Something ‘the palpatine problem’ I mean the whole Rey is palps grand daughter thing so I took a step back to look at the trilogy and found something that could have saved the rise of skywalker and the problem that led it there,

The real problem is just the film or the entire trilogy wasn’t even planned to have palpatine , it was a last minute retcon because backlash from Snoke’s death ,if palps was truly dead but Rey was a palp clone it would’ve been fine-ish but honestly I prefer her being a nobody kinda similar to daddy kenobi and have kylo and her be a reflection of anakin and obi wan (the chosen saviour of a legend and the basically nobody tied to the saviour’s) and be a mirror by how unlike how obi wan unable to save anakin to Vader ,rey would be able to save Ben from kylo,

kylo could have kept his badass villain status for a movie instead of becoming big daddy palps errand boy and Rey could’ve brought him back to the light somehow (I don’t write scripts ) possibly because rey could empathise with Ben because she has no Jedi code to prevent that type of connection, unlike obi wan who embraced the Jedi code and while he did understand that it wasn’t always right (clone wars S7 )he still followed it as he tried to kill anakin on Mustafar believing he was never coming back not believing in his redemption (although after the youngling slaying I don’t really blame him to much)

similar to black panther and killmonger and their fathers while T’challahs father T’chaka murdered his brother N’jobu to keep the secret of wakanda T’challah tried to save kill monger after their fight despite all he had done (R.I.P Zuri) and while killmonger still let himself die the parallel still stands for what Rey and Ben could’ve been

also it would have been a great bit of connective tissue to the prequels to tie up the saga even their final duel could’ve mirrored the Phantom apprentice from clone wars (I know it came after but still) as a clash of ideals and sabers an incredibly ‘elegant duel from a more civilised age’ instead of hitting each other with glowing baseball bats because of ‘reasons’

That was a big ass tangent I’m sorry

[ayo-cowbelly]

Anakin Everlasting

read on ao3 here

wowww look at me, posting writing two days in a row... here’s to being productive

again, blame discord. those amazing angst-lovers keep inspiring me to write and make everyone sad.

hope you enjoy!

p.s. pretty sure it's a thing that jedi live a lot longer than average people, usually over 100 years. so that's why that's in there.

***

Anakin wandered throughout the temple. Not the Coruscant one, as you might think- no, he was on Yavin IV now. Years ago, the Jedi had decided to expand and, seeing as there was an unused temple on a lush planet, a planet that was strong in the Force- it was perfect for a new branch of the Order.

He stared out at the greenery, so different from what he had been used to. Even though he came to this place almost 100 years ago, Anakin couldn't find himself getting fully adjusted to the new environment.

Anakin was now surrounded by greens, blues, and browns, so different from the golds and tans he was used to. Those colors represented everything he loved, everything he'd lost, and that which he could not bear to see taken from him. That was why, even if it was a bit uncomfortable, Anakin had moved to Yavin IV. He has lost so much- and Anakin had never been good with loss.

Yes, time heals all wounds, and of course he'd spent time meditating with Yoda, learning how to let go; Yoda was the only one who could even begin to understand Anakin's plight. Despite that, however, he still found his heart aching when he thought of his friends, his family, and how they had left him.

Padmé had been the first to go. She lived to be 97, and Anakin never stopped loving her. As she got older, Padmé had insisted on Anakin moving on, finding a younger person who could keep up with him, now that she was too frail to even leave the apartment most days. He knew she'd be gone soon, so he promised he'd try to find someone.

It was the only promise he'd ever broken.

"I don't want you to mourn the moment you spent with me for an eternity," She had told him.

Anakin, tears in his eyes, whispered back, "You are my eternity, Angel."

That, even 1000 years later, was still true. He loved her, as many others in the galaxy had loved someone; fiercely, eternally, even if she was dead. Anakin and Padmé had a love that would always be real, be true, as long as he kept her memory alive as he traveled across the stars.

Anakin cried for days when Ahsoka died.

His first and dearest Padawan lived to be 117, and she had been feisty until the very end (only Leia had been able to keep up with Ahsoka in that regard- oh, Force, Leia-)

When she left, laying in her bed with soft condolences and gentle teases and whispers of "Don't forget me, Skyguy," Anakin had thought that would break him, as he held her now-limp hand.

Obi-Wan was worse. Obi-Wan, the oldest family member he had left, had been gone for a long time. His brother had lived to be around 124 (or maybe not, Anakin seemed to be getting worse at keeping track of time the longer his life went on). Obi-Wan had lived a long life, a happy life; and when his time came, he learned enough of the Force that he could still visit Anakin, sometimes.

Every once and awhile, the two could talk (it used to be always, back when Obi lived- but Anakin would be the only one who would get an always). But it wasn't the same. Not even close.

He'd never admit it, but Anakin cried for over a week when Obi-Wan faded away. At that time, he was sure he would shatter; If Padmé hadn't broken him, if Ahsoka hadn't, surely his older brother would.

Obi's death had to be the worst, he was positive.

He was so, so wrong.

Nothing could compare to the pure heartbreak that came with the death of his children.

Luke, who was bright like sunshine and serene like water- and Leia, who was pure fire and somehow engulfed everyone she met. They were the brightest parts of Anakin's life, both in the Force and not. They were the best parts of him and Padmé, and he loved them so incredibly much. And, being twins, Luke and Leia spent almost every moment together since their birth. Throughout their lives, it was rare to see one without the other, for nobody was as closely intertwined as they; save for Anakin and Obi-Wan.

So, when Death came for his children, Anakin had to watch as they left together (there was no other way they could go). He'd had them for an amazing 156 years, years he would forever cherish.

Now he didn't have anyone. But somehow, he was still whole. He hadn't broken then, and he hadn't broken when his later Padawans had died (death was hard for Anakin to think about. Even though he somewhat feared it, he also wanted it, if it meant he could see his dearest ones again). But Anakin knew Death would never claim him, so he made the most out of his eternal life (but it was a half-life, for what is a life without love?)

He took other Padawans, trained other students and treated them as his own. Though he knew it was a bad idea, as nobody could stay forever, they became his family. Just as Ahsoka once had, when she'd stepped out of a shuttle on Christophsis.

Anakin also found he was good at storytelling. Every night, he made his way to the Crèche and regaled the younglings with his stories. The now-legends of a beautiful queen, a wise Jedi Master, a snarky Togruta (who had become a Master in her own right), an exasperated clone captain; and later the stories of a brave young man and his fiery twin sister, the smuggler she fell in love with, and how through it all were two droids who were the best of friends.

He told the next generations about their adventures, how they found joy while fighting a war, and he told them of how they had managed to discover and overthrow the Sith. He taught them how to find the Light, find love, even when hope seems lost.

The younglings loved the stories, ate them up until Anakin had no more, so he'd retell them again. He told them to the children, to the Padawans, to the Knights, and even the Masters (even if they were old, most had grown up hearing of Anakin's adventures). His only rule for those who heard the tales? Pass them on, so the memories stay alive.

He taught them a truth he had discovered: Nobody is ever really gone, as long as you keep on telling their stories.

Anakin forever would.

He made his way to a special room he had reserved for himself in the Temple, for as Grandmaster (now that Yoda was gone, Anakin had become the Grandmaster. Yoda's death, of all people... that had hit Anakin harder than he'd thought it would. When someone who seems to be forever dies, said death is shocking) he could do such things.

When he entered, he looked around the room. He surveyed the pictures and trinkets that lay there, waiting for him.

By Padmé's picture, there was the old Japor snippet necklace- along with a small flimsi paper flower he'd once made for her, onboard a Star Destroyer while thinking of how he missed her.

Beside Obi-Wan's, there was a lightsaber that hummed. It seemed to have a mind of its own now, and the buzzing got louder as Anakin approached- or rather, his own blade did. Just as their users were connected, these lightsabers were as well. There was also a small holo of Anakin and Obi-Wan on Cato Nemoidia, just after that "business" that Obi-Wan always said "didn't count". In the picture, Padawan Anakin is grinning widely, arm slung around a very disgruntled Obi-Wan's shoulders.

Next to Ahsoka's lay her two lightsabers and the golden headdress she'd worn since she was young. Anakin remembers how he'd gently lifted it off her head at the funeral, for if he couldn't keep his sister, his beloved Padawan, then he would keep this small part of her.

Alongside Luke and Leia's (their pictures were one and the same, since they almost never did something without the other) there were their own 'sabers and two drawings the twins made when they were toddlers. If Anakin remembered correctly (as time went on, he found it harder and harder to look at such things) the pictures depicted their family- which of course included Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex, R2 and 3PO.

The two droids had been shut down long ago, finally going out of use just after Padmé's death.

The room housed other pictures, which showed the rest of Anakin's Padawans- including Ahsoka, there were six in total; But even though he kept all their lightsabers, he only had trinkets for two of them.

Uchani, who had been his second Padawan about 40 years after Ahsoka died, had been a quiet but strong Zeltron. She was a calm person, but there was spunk in her that rivaled Leia's. Uchani was amazing at calming Anakin down when he was angry, the gentle waves of her Force presence dousing out the embers in his. She had become his little sister as well.

Then there was Myn. A young Tholothian, Myn was brave and outspoken, and him and Anakin fit well together. He was the sixth student Anakin had taken, and though he loved all his students, Anakin remembered Myn vividly.

In all his eternal years, Anakin had not been prepared for seeing his Padawan die young. In battle, no less.

Myn was slain by a Darksider in the catacombs of Akiva. Anakin had been too late, moments too late; after cutting down the enemy, he watched as Myn's life dwindled.

Knowing Anakin well after ten years of training, Myn had wheezed, "Don't- Don't do anything- anything reckless, Master." 

Anakin refused to look at the wound on his apprentice's stomach. "Myn, we need to get you to a healer-" 

"Master- Anakin-" Myn coughed, and Anakin felt the tears in his eyes overflow and run down his face.

"No, please, not you too," Anakin said, but he already knew what the outcome would be.

"It'll be okay, Anakin," Myn murmered, and then he was gone, just like all the others.  

Anakin shook off the memory of his last Padawan, and he sat down in the middle of the room. Rex's helmet (Rex, who had lived to be 105 once the accelerated aging was healed, had never stopped standing up for what was right. When his body failed him, he switched to words, fighting until the end. Anakin missed his twin so much), which Anakin had kept in as good condition as possible, stared back at him as he told his family of his day.

When he finished, he felt a presence behind him, and wasn't surprised to see the faint blue glow of Obi-Wan's ghost.

"It sounds like you had a good day, Anakin."

"I did," He said back happily. "But it's not over yet. I'm about to go see the younglings- care to join me, Master?"

Obi-Wan smiled softly. "I'd be delighted, Padawan mine."

[underworldobsessed]

Lose Control ll An Obitine Fic

Title: Lose Control Rating: T Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Satine Kryze, Padme Amidala Series: ABO Obitine (Part 6 out of ???), TAS Week (Omegaverse week) (Part 3 out of 7) Summary: When Satine is shot in front of Obi-Wan, he learns about a darker part of his nature as he makes the decision to hunt for Satine's attacker. Satine, far before she recovers, decides she needs to find him before he does something she knows he'll regret. ll Temples and Sabers Day 3: Feral Omegas Author’s Note: I always have fun writing characters going feral. Typically it's not in this sense, but it was absolutely fun to write.I hope you guys enjoy!!

Read here or under the cut

Obi-Wan should have sensed the attacker in the force but he had been distracted. The dress Satine had been wearing was tantalizing, her mating mark was for once on full display. He could hear the whispers of those around him, asking questions on who her mysterious mate was. Everyone had known Satine as the ever elusive duchess, never taking a mate, but now, she had been displaying her mark proudly. He just wished he could do the same…

He thought that maybe it would be soon, until the shot had come through the window, and Satine fell.

He was torn between being the loyal Omega and her jedi knight in shining armor. He knew what he had to do, though, and chased after the attacker. Of course, they had vanished into the darkness of the night. He looked, trying to reach out into the force to sense where they had gone. But he could sense nothing. Perhaps it was his warring emotions that left him unable to find the source.

He had to get back to Satine.

Running back into the building, he saw that a small crowd had surrounded his mate, and he fell by her side. He moved to put pressure on her wound, hearing her hiss in pain. Thank the force, she was alive.

“Satine, I lost your attacker, I’m sorry.” He moved to brush the hair from her face, and knew now that the others around them were staring at the caring gesture. Of course, he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Satine was this severely injured and he had failed her in trying to protect her.

“It’s alright, my dear Obi-Wan.” She flinched as she shifted, the wound bleeding more.

“Make room,” He heard the medics call, and he shifted, going to hold her hand rather than stand over her and the medical staff and droids started to put bacta on the wound so they could move her. “Sir, you need to move, we need to get the Duchess to the medical ward, now!”

One of the medics pushed him out of the way as they lifted her up and carried her out of the ballroom.

“Satine!” He called, but his voice got lost in the crowd. He wanted to be there behind her, stand next to her as they worked on her, but there was a voice in his head. There was anger and a desire for revenge that he had never felt before. This wasn’t the dark side either, no… this was something more primal. Something linked to a part of him that was long denied, one of the reasons that the Jedi Order didn’t allow for mated pairs.

Darkness clouded his mind, and he knew that he needed to go. He had someone to track down and make sure they suffered like Satine did….

Satine had lost consciousness in the time that it took to get her to the medcenter, and she didn’t wake for hours. When she did eventually wake up, the first thing she saw was the blinding lights of the medcenter and her friend Padmé by her side. She tried to recall what happened. She was at a ball on Mandalore, talking with some of her trusted officials when… that was right, a blaster shot hit her. She looked around, behind Padmé, to try and see if Obi-Wan was there. He was her mate, he should be by her side.

“Looking for Master Kenobi?” Padmé’s voice tried to tease, but in truth, the relief of seeing her friend open her eyes after some time caused her voice to crack.

“No I…” She sighed, knowing it was pointless to try and lie to Padmé. “I was. Where is he?” She tried to make her desire to see him not appear in the light she knew it would appear, but in truth, she hurt and all she wanted was the comfort of her omega by her side.

“Nobody’s seen him since you were taken to the medcenter. I tried to reach out to Ani… I mean, General Skywalker, but he hasn’t seen him either.” She frowned, the concern from all of this now coming through a little bit more. “I know he’s worried about him, but also knew that if Master Kenobi knew you had been left alone after all of this, he would be upset. So I volunteered to stay by your side while you healed.” Her eyes were kind, and Satine felt blessed to have a friend like Padmé in her life.

“I’m fine,” A lie, but she knew she couldn’t sit around while her Omega was missing. “What I need to be concerned with is the fact that a Jedi master has gone missing while on Mandalore. The Jedi Council will start to assume I did something to him, held him for ransom, and use it as an excuse to invade.” A flimsy excuse at best, but she also knew that there was nothing else she could say that would make it seem less suspicious. She needed to find Obi-Wan. She didn’t want him blaming himself for this for too long. Having him lost in his mind would be a bad thing for sure.

“I had a feeling you might, and while I should be encouraging you to stay in bed and allow yourself to heal, I know the desire to make sure your omega is okay.” Padmé gave her a knowing grin, and Satine couldn’t bring herself to care that Padmé knew her secret. “We’re just going to take everything slowly, and you will not overdo it, because I don’t want him turning on me because I let you get out of your hospital bed while you need to heal.”

Satine nodded and Padmé helped her get out of bed, keeping her upright as the pain caused spots in her vision, and she almost fell over. She allowed for Padmé to help her, and then they started to slip out from the medical center.

It was a miracle they got out without being spotted. Her guards were likely out searching for the one who did this, and trusted that Padmé would watch over her. Of course, none of them really knew the two of them. They wouldn’t stay in one spot for too long, and when Obi-Wan was truly at risk like this, Satine wouldn’t just sit and let others look for him. She needed to be part of that search too.

If something happened to Obi-Wan because of her, because she wasn’t there to talk him down, she would never forgive herself.

The search for Obi-Wan took two days. In that time, her guard did discover her absence and tried to get her to stop, but she refused. Her guards were the only ones who were in the know of her relationship with Obi-Wan and they knew better to stop an alpha that was trying to protect her mate. She may be a pacifist, but if she was honest, she would tear this world apart to keep Obi-Wan safe.

The thought terrified her.

She found him, finally, two days after her injury. He had been hiding out in the worse parts of town, in the shadows and away from most others. She almost didn’t recognize him at first. His gaze was not the usual loving one that she had grown to associate with her beloved. It was hard, and cruel, a tint of gold in the glimmering blue she had fallen in love with. His nails were longer, like claws and his teeth almost seemed sharper, but she thought that it might be a trick of the light.

“Everyone stand down.” She commanded as her guard lifted their weapons to aim at him. They did not come this far to end up putting his life at risk or their own because they were foolish enough to lift a weapon to a truly feral omega.

She had read about this in stories, but never thought it was real. If an Omega’s alpha becomes seriously hurt and the Omega couldn’t do anything, they would revert to a more feral state. They would not be able to be consoled or brought back to themselves, unless they were able to get revenge or if they were brought back down by their Alpha, but even that had to be done carefully.

“Leave us,” She commanded again, and there was absolutely hesitation there. “He’s not going to hurt me, please.”

“Satine,” Padmé spoke quietly, not wanting to leave her friend alone when she wouldn’t defend herself.

“I promise I’ll be fine, Padmé. You don’t have to worry about me. Obi would never lay a hand on me.” She gave her a smile, and finally Padmé relented. She led the royal guards out of the alleyway they had found themselves in. Finally, she and Obi-Wan were alone.

“Obi, it’s me.” She tried to get through to him, but saw that he was looking at her skeptically, like he didn’t really believe she was there. “It’s really me, come on. It’s okay. You know I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Alpha?” The omega in him was what took over. This wasn’t truly Obi-Wan, not yet. He was under the influence of his inner Omega, which had grown feral knowing there was nothing he could do to help Satine. “Alpha safe?”

“Yes, my darling, I’m safe.” Her injury burned, and she was still struggling to keep herself standing at this time. But at the same time, she knew that she absolutely needed to stay upright. She needed him to see that she was safe and alright. She didn’t want him thinking that he had failed her. If he saw her okay, maybe he would return to normal. “I wasn’t that seriously hurt, Obi. The bacta did wonders and I’m good as new.”

His whimper rang in her ears and it broke her heart. He truly felt like he had failed her, and she could tell. She didn’t need to be a force user to sense that in him. She reached out and held her hand out for him. “Come on, Ben, it’s time to come home. Come back to me, my dear.”

She could see the war waging between the more rational side of Obi-Wan and his feral nature at that moment and she was afraid that he wasn’t going to come out of this. But she felt a hand take hers and she looked, seeing that the claws that were there moments ago were gone, and his eyes were fully back to that kind and loving gaze she knew all too well.

“Satine I,” His voice fell quiet, and she knew he was trying to apologize for everything that happened, but then his gaze fell down to where she knew that her injury was and his eyes widened. “Satine, you’re bleeding.”

If she didn’t know that the moment had passed, she would worry that he would return to that feral mindset he had just recovered from, but she also knew that it wasn’t possible. He was back to the man she loved, and the moment was long gone.

“Don’t worry about it, Obi. I’m alive.” She reassured him, pressing her palm to his cheek to try and keep his attention on her. “I’ll be okay. Come on, let’s go back to the palace.”

The two of them stood from where they were crouched, and she swayed briefly. The black dots returned to her vision and unlike last night, Obi-Wan was there to catch her. He slipped his arm under her legs and lifted her up so she didn’t have to walk. She wanted to fight him, but she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat in her ears. She felt safe now, knowing that he was back to his normal self and by her side once again. This was when she felt at her safest, not when he was feral but when he was at her side, protecting her like this.

[anakin-danvers]

to love again

not my gif!

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!reader

reader is fem!

Request: “I loved them more than anything in this world, and they’re dead because of me.” With Anakin Skywalker please? Your last one was *chefs kiss*

Word count: ~2.8k

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, crying, feelings of guilt. 

A/N: Sorry for the delay my dear anon! I got busy with summer classes, but I wanted to get it out by today as a little birthday present for myself (wooo happy birthday to me!). I’m glad you enjoyed the last one, and I hope you enjoy this one! As always, please let me know what you all think, your comments always make me so happy! Also, requests are open :)

—

Keep breathing. Empty your mind. Just focus on the feeling of the Force within you, around you...just breathe. In, out, in again, out again....is that...is someone walking outside?

You open your left eye. Your right eye follows suit, your concentration broken. A sigh escapes your mouth, and you give up on your futile efforts of meditating. Uncrossing your legs, you get up from the floor of your quarters. It’s late and you should be sleeping. But you aren’t. You can’t. 

Every moment your eyes close, you see them. Their faces, their fear. 

You shake your head, trying in a way to shake the thoughts from your mind. Don’t think about it. The more you think about it, the harder it is. 

The cool floor press against your feet as you walk over to the washroom. There, you turn on the faucet, putting your hands under the running water and bringing it onto your face in an attempt to clear your mind. You dry off and make your way back to your bed, sitting on the edge and taking a look at the room before you. 

As a Jedi, you were taught not to have possessions, to live a simple life, and your quarters reflected that. The room was filled with the minimum, only little parts of it showing your personality. The bags of your favorite Naboo tea by the small kitchen. Your saber on its place in the table next to your bed. Some nice rocks you had kept from your missions to distant planets. Your favorite cup gifted to you by your former master during your padawan days. The colorful, handmade blanket on your bed–

The blanket they had given you. 

You shake your head again, a useless attempt to stop the images of the destruction, of their faces, from filling your mind once again. Defeat washes over you as the realization that you won’t be sleeping anytime soon becomes clear. So instead of wasting your time trying to sleep, you slip on your night slippers, put on your usual Jedi robe, and make your way out of your quarters. You decide to leave your saber behind, this being one of the rare moments you can actually leave it behind. 

The halls of the Jedi temple are quiet. It seems everyone else is doing what you can’t: sleep. You make your way down the halls with light steps to avoid making any noise. Your feet lead you to a nearby balcony, where you hope you’ll be able to clear your mind while surrounded by the night. 

As you approach the balcony, you realize you were wrong in assuming everyone in the temple was asleep. No, you are not the only one awake. Standing there, looking up at the night sky as you’d planned on doing is no other than Anakin Skywalker. 

Your feet stop. The point of leaving your quarters was to have some time to clear your head. Could you do that with someone present?

It doesn’t hurt to try. You two could just stand there in silence. Plus, the next balcony is on the other side of the floor you are on. 

With your mind made up, you continue to walk towards the balcony, hoping to not interrupt Anakin who seems to be lost in his own train of thought. 

As you reach the opening of the balcony, Anakin turns, a curious look on his face. You smile at him, your hand coming up to give a small wave. 

“Hi Anakin. I don’t mean to intrude, I just need some air,” you say. He nods and you make your way to the other side of the balcony, putting a good amount of distance between you two to try to give him his space. 

You know Anakin as well as you know most of your Jedi colleagues, at a distance and mostly formal. The interactions between you two have been limited thus far, mainly consisting of greetings around the temple with the occasional meeting on the battlefield. However, you’ve always wanted to get to know him. Your longing to know him better soon developed into something more, something that causes you to go red in the face whenever your interactions are more than just your routine greetings. But you try to suppress the feelings; Jedi are not allowed to have attachments. 

Attachments. Funny how you know you’re not supposed to have them, yet you do. Or at least, you did. 

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath to try to calm the emotions threatening to come back to you. The night breeze grazes your face, calming you more than your quarters had. You open your eyes, looking down at the bustling city of Coruscant below you. 

“You’d think that for a city that’s so loud, nobody would be able to sleep.”

You turn to look at Anakin, where you find him looking at you, his body facing you. His face is easier to see now, and you see how tired he looks, the lack of sleep evident on his face. 

“I guess nobody can blame us for being up, then,” you say. 

The corner of Anakin’s mouth lifts up slightly, and he looks down at his hands. You take that as a sign that he’s done talking, so you move to face the night sky again. 

“Do you mind if I join you?”

You find yourself looking at him again, and he looks almost sheepish as he waits for your response. You nod, your lips tugging up to a smile of reassurance. He makes his way to stand next to you, the heat creeping its way up your face clashing with the coolness of the breeze. Soon, he’s standing next to you, not too close to invade your personal space, but close enough that it was clear you two are here together. 

“I would ask you if you’re having trouble sleeping, but I think we’ve covered that already.”

“Yeah,” you say, a small sigh escaping your lips. “It’s been a rough few nights.”

“I understand. I’m going through a rough patch myself,” Anakin says, his voice growing quieter towards the end. 

“Well, I’m sure we are both out here to clear our minds, so we should try to do that.” You turn to face him, a sudden sense of confidence running through you. You ignore the way your stomach feels as Anakin turns to face you better, the ghost of a smile playing in his lips. 

“If you have any ideas on how to achieve that, I’m all ears.”

Your eyes look at the city below you, thinking of how you two can clear your troubled minds. With the feeling of Anakin’s eyes on you, your eyes dance around the different city structures, the speeders, the life around you. Then it hits you. 

“I know what we can do.” You don’t realize how excited you sound until you see one of Anakin’s eyebrows rising, the ghost of a smile manifesting itself into the real thing. 

“We’re surrounded by so much life right now. We can clear our minds by living through them in a way, imagining what their lives might be like.” At Anakin’s continued gaze on you, your confidence begins to shake a bit. “If-if you like, of course. If not, we can just enjoy the night in silence—“ You stop the beginning of your rambling as Anakin shakes his head.

“No, no, I like your idea. Living through them.” 

And so you begin to imagine the lives of the beings all around you. You take turns in the beginning, each thinking of a name for the driver of a speeder that passes by. Soon, you are both coming up with life stories together, adding unnecessary details that bring smiles and laughs to you both. 

“He owns a loth-cat named Obi? You can be a bit more creative with your names, Anakin.” At your words, the Jedi shakes with laughter, a fully-rounded laugh that lights a warm feeling in your chest. 

“What can I say? I admire my Master very much.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, the sudden laugh surprising you. It seems to surprise Anakin as well. 

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, it’s not that,” you rush to say while also trying to regain your breath from your laughter. “It’s just, you two always seem to bicker when together.”

A fond smile appears on Anakin’s face. “I guess it’s just the relationship we have. He’s almost like a brother to me.”

The honesty in his voice makes your laughter disappear. Instead, you find yourself smiling as well. You can see it, to be honest. Obi-Wan’s padawan years were cut short at the sudden death of his master Qui-Gon Jinn, so taking Anakin as his padawan right away meant they had to grow up together. 

“I can tell he feels the same about you.” Your words cause him to look timid for a second, his smile shy on his face. He looks at the city below him again, his face growing slightly more serious. 

“You know, for how much we’ve been told that emotions should be kept at bay, I believe my emotions are what have made me the Jedi I am today. Attachments...I know we’re supposed to reject them, but who would I be today if I did?” He shakes his head, his hands coming up to cover his face. 

He seems so vulnerable like this. It’s something you didn’t expect to be seeing when you decided to leave your quarters earlier. But here you are, and you feel almost honored that he’s showing this side of himself to you. 

“I understand, Anakin,” you say, placing a hand lightly on his arm. And maybe it’s the way the lights contrast with the night sky, or the lack of sleep you’ve had the past few days, or the way your heart seems to clench at the sight of Anakin before you, but something prompts you to keep speaking. “I...I’ve loved before.”

It was the first time you called it that. Love. You always knew that’s what you felt for them, but you were always too afraid to face the truth. Your confession makes Anakin turn to look at you. His face looks troubled but somewhat hopeful. 

“You have?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper. 

You nod, not being able to form the simple ‘yes’ you wanted to. The beating of your heart quickens as the images of their faces come to your mind once more. 

“I reconnected with family some time ago while on a mission.” It’s you who’s vulnerable now, your palms growing sweaty as you want to both stay quiet and spill everything you’ve been burying inside for the past weeks. Anakin catches on to your hesitation, moving so that he’s fully facing you, giving you his attention. 

“The mission took us to Tora, a small planet on the outer rim. It’s usually uncharted, so small that some consider it insignificant. It’s where I’m from originally. 

I was there with Master Plo Koon and the 104th. Commander Wolffe was talking to two locals, when one of them recognized me. Wolffe called me over; it turns out the woman who recognized me was my mother’s childhood friend. That’s how she knew who I was, she said I look just like my mother. Her and her husband knew my mother and father well, and they knew me. They were there when Master Windu found me all those years ago, and they were there when my parents sent me with Master Windu here to the Jedi Order. 

That night, I found my way to their home. There was this part of me that needed to know. About my parents. About what my life would’ve been if I hadn’t been Force sensitive. They indulged me in answering all my questions. They informed me that my parents had passed, my mother of an illness, my father of a machinery accident in his place of work. They comforted me as I cried.” 

At the memory, your voice wavers. You hadn’t expected the news of your parents to affect you, your memories of them distant. But it had, and they were there to comfort you through it all. 

Anakin takes hold of one of your hands, giving it a comforting squeeze. You look at him and he gives you a comforting smile, prompting you to continue. 

“We formed a bond that night. I visited any chance I could while on the mission. Even afterwards, I’d visit Tora whenever I found myself near. I was always welcome with open arms by them.  They’d have food waiting for me, and in one visit I found they’d made a blanket for me so that I could rest in between my missions.” You smile, they’re words replaying in your mind. 

“And I loved them. I know Jedi are not supposed to form attachments, are not supposed to love, but I loved them. I loved them more than anything in this world, and they’re dead because of me.”

They’d been among the casualties of a Separatist attack. The Separatists had wanted to take control of the region, thinking its lack of popularity would make for a great place to hide developments of any battle tactics against the Republic. 

Confusion falls on Anakin’s face, quickly followed by understanding. He shakes his head, his hands moving to hold your arms. 

“You can’t blame yourself, Y/N,” he says right as a few of the tears you’d been holding back make their way down your face. His hand comes up to wipe them away, the warmth of it bringing comfort to your broken heart. 

“I could have saved them, Anakin. I could have arrived sooner.”  More tears fall down your cheeks and Anakin continues to wipe them away. “I had to take their bodies out of the rubble. I keep seeing the look on their faces. The fear that was still there.”

Anakin’s arms come around you, bringing you to his chest. The embrace breaks your wall, the tears flowing freely now. His gloved hand comes up to lightly rub the back of your head. He doesn’t try to stop your crying, no, he lets you cry, lets you unbury all the emotions that have been eating at you from inside. 

Your crying slows enough that he pulls slightly back. He once again goes to wipe away the tears left on your face. 

“It’s hard, Y/N, I know. But you cannot blame yourself. You just can’t. It won’t let you sleep, it won’t let you eat, it won’t let you live. You need to be strong, for them, for their memory.” 

You nod, his words doing more for you than the sleepless nights wandering around the temple ever had. 

“Thank you for this, Anakin. I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you, it’s just been eating at me for longer than I would like to admit.”

The look of understanding returns to his face. “I get that. I lost someone very close, someone I loved, some time back. I too blamed myself, admittedly I still do. I’m working on not doing that anymore. There’s some nights I’m less successful than others, such as tonight.”

Realization hits you. The both of you had loved. And the both of you had lost those you loved. Now you two are working on it, but not alone. Not anymore. You are finding comfort, finding support in one another. 

“Anakin, I...” you stop talking, knowing there’s no words that can express what you want to convey to him. So instead you embrace him this time, your arms enveloping his waist as your face connects with his chest. He doesn’t hesitate on returning your hug, his arms circling you and his face burying itself in your shoulder. You hug him tighter, hoping you can express to him everything he needs to feel the support he’s giving you this night. 

After a few moments, the two of you pull back. 

“I cannot thank you enough for this, Anakin,” you say. He once again shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“If you need to thank anyone, thank the stars for having us walk onto the same balcony tonight.”

The warmth in your chest is sparked again, spreading until you feel warm all around. Not an uncomfortable warmth, but rather a warmth that makes you feel alive. 

You smile, a genuine smile that is mirrored on Anakin’s face. “Well then thank the stars.”

You look at one another for a bit, your smiles unfaltering, before Anakin speaks again. 

“Come now. I’ll walk you to your quarters. I think we will both be getting some much needed sleep,” Anakin says. You nod again, following him as he begins to move towards the temple. 

And as you walk side by side down the hallway to your quarters, both of your smiles still on each other’s faces, you believe that maybe, just maybe, you can love again.

[that-sw-writer]

Prompt #3 was so good!! can you please do a part 2? I love your writing💕💕

Thank you!! And thanks for requesting it, I was meaning to write a part 2 and totally forgot 🥴

I’ve also renamed the series ‘come back to me’

Summary: Kylo isn’t ready to let you go, he’s willing to do anything to bring you back from the brink.

Word count: 2218

Warnings: probably terrible use of medical dialect by me, lost of angst, mentions mental health/trauma, mentions death

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

Come back to me II

It had been a month, and Kylo still felt numb.

He still visited you every day, but there was always that impending sense of doom lurking around you like a dark shroud.  It was just a matter of time before one of the doctors became brave enough to tell their Supreme Leader the harsh truth.

The truth that his wife had been in a coma for a month, that he had sourced the greatest medical professionals in the galaxy and even they couldn't draw you back to consciousness.  You had sustained extensive injuries, and that was before the malnutrition and presumed mental trauma had been taken into account.

Eventually somebody had to speak up.  The medical staff had spent a long time arguing over whose responsibility it was to tell Kylo that he needed to start thinking about letting you go, and eventually they decided to approach him as a pack... after all, the saying was 'safety in numbers.'

When the Chief Medical Officer had given him his two options: let you go, or keep you alive on the basis that you might never wake up, he had said that only by giving your body a chance to sustain itself would you possibly awake; although the chances were extremely slim.  Kylo had simply ordered them all out of the room in an angry fit.

He wanted to demolish the walls with his Saber, but you were laying there so peacefully, he couldn't bring himself to do it.  You had been the source of all of his happiness for so long now, he had no idea how to cope without you - in short, he wasn't coping without you.  He was becoming more and more destructive by the day, especially where the pirates who kidnapped you in the first place were concerned.  He was ruthlessly hunting them down across the the galaxy, following up every lead, every rumour, no stone was left unturned when it came to your captors.  If he couldn't have you, he would at least have their blood as compensation.

Part of his destructive nature was stemming from his own guilt.  If he had just gotten to you sooner, perhaps he would have caught you in time for the medical team to save you.  But he hadn't made it fast enough, in fact the doctors had said that it was a miracle in itself that you had survived, even if you were comatose.  On paper, you should have been dead, but your sheer will to live had kept you going.

Kylo sat by your bedside, and clutched his head in his hands as he tried to process his frustration.  He wondered what you were dreaming about - one of the doctors he had brought in from Coruscant had told him that your brain was still active, and that you were able to dream, as well as possibly register things that were going on around you.

He just hoped that you were dreaming of happier times together, like when you had taken a trip away to Bespin together.  Just the two of you, pretending that you could have a life outside of the First Order, although naturally the Supreme Leader and his wife were two very recognisable faces.  Nevertheless, you had never felt so at peace in one another's company.

You strangely looked at peace now, Kylo thought.  Your features were relaxed and soft, and for what it was worth you were looking in much better health than you had when he and the Knights had brought you back from Bor.

"Please don't let those animals be your finals thoughts, my love."  He quietly urged you.  If you could subconsciously register what was going on around you, he knew you would hear his voice.  "You deserve the galaxy, and I promised I would give it to you.  I'm just sorry I let you down."  Emotion now filled his voice, and he prayed that nobody would come in and see him in such a vulnerable state.  "I will hunt them down and avenge you, that's a promise I can keep."

He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that if you had your way you would be hunting down your kidnappers and getting revenge singlehandedly.  He owed it to you to find them, either that or he was just trying to rectify his own mistakes.

"D-don't blame yourself."

Your final words still haunted him, he heard them every day.  How could he not blame himself?  He could have done so much more, or even better, he could have stopped you from pursuing that distress beacon in the first place.

Another day passed, and he once again found himself sat at your bedside.  Even Kylo had to admit that he couldn't do this forever, it wasn't fair on either of you.

"If you stop supporting her, what happens?"  He asked the Chief Medical Officer, his eyes not leaving your face.

"Her body has to either sustain itself, or it will fail.  But Supreme Leader, you must know that the chances of her surviving are extremely low.  In fact, I would say near impossible."  He didn't want to get Kylo's hopes up, he understood that.  But Kylo believed that your will to survive had brought you this far, and he wasn't ready to give up on you yet.

"Do it."  He quietly said, every muscle in his body screaming at him to do something to stop this, but he knew it was necessary.  If he lost you, he would never recover, but perhaps this could be the spark you needed to finally wake up and come back to him.  Either way, he couldn't allow you to live out the rest of your days unconscious in the med-bay.

A team were gathered, ready to deal with any possible eventuality.  They had tried to suggest that the Supreme Leader leaves the room, but Kylo was adamant on staying, because the second you were close to consciousness he would have something they didn't - the Force.

Despite you not being Force sensitive, he could sense your presence from a mile away, and he always knew how you were feeling.  It was now his last lifeline to you, if he felt even a spark of life come from you then he wouldn't dare give up on trying to save you.

It all happened so fast, the machines were cut, the only thing left active being you heart rate monitor.  The steady beeping immediately began to rise, up and up until it was dangerously high, then suddenly it flatlined.

"She's going into cardiac arrest."  The Chief Medical Officer exclaimed, the team sweeping into action to try and save you.

He couldn't get a look in, the sea of bodies surrounding you had his own heart rate rising.  Could he have just made a terrible mistake and lost you for good?

When the medical officers stepped back, the only sound filling the room was the monotone beep that symbolised your heart rate.

"I'm sorry Supreme Leader."  The Chief Medical Officer spoke quietly, "we'll give you some time."

When everyone else left the room, tears were already uncontrollably pooling in the corners of his eyes.  His whole world was shattering before him.

He wasted no time in moving to your bedside and gently taking one of your hands to hold in both of his.

"This can't be it, I can't have failed you again."  He whispered, bringing your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to them.  Your hand was still warm, and he couldn't believe he had come so close and still failed to save you.

"Please-" he begged, unsure as to who he was even speaking to now, "please don't take her from me."  His voice cracked as the weight of losing you finally hit him like a tonne of bricks.

As if the Force had heard his pleas it called to him, and he listened.  It drew him towards you, but he wondered what the point was - it was too late now...  But then he felt it, tiny, almost non-existent, but it was there.

The smallest flicker of life remained in you, your will to survive still fighting, but quickly fading.  He knew he had to at least try and pull you back.

His hands ever-so-gently released yours, placing it back by your side in favour of placing one of his hands on your chest.  He dug deep, deep enough until he could reach that tiny flicker of life within you and he started to pass his energy to you.

Kylo felt himself becoming physically and mentally drained as he passed almost everything he had into you, but when he heard intermittent beeps coming from the heart-rate monitor he knew that he had to push through.

His hand was then met by yours, warm, gentle, alive.  Your eyes fluttered open next, your pupils taking a moment to adjust to the harsh light in the room.  Usually when people awoke from comas, it would take them weeks, months even, to recover.  But you felt reinvigorated, as if you were ready to jump up at a moment's notice and undertake a mission.  Whatever Kylo had done hadn't just brought you back to consciousness, it had brought you back to almost full health.

Satisfied that you were alive, and unable to physically give you anyone, Kylo stopped and collapsed to the ground, his breathing laboured as he tried to regain his strength.

"Kylo-" you tried to speak, but your voice manifested as a mere croak, barely audible.  Your throat was so dry, you were starving hungry, your limbs were aching, but all you could think about was your husband.  He had just saved your life.

"Supreme Leader-" assuming he was about to walk in on a grieving Kylo Ren, the Chief Medical Officer's expression was truly one of shock when he saw the scene before him.

Kylo hunched over on the floor, trying his best to remain conscious after giving up almost his entire life-force to his wife, who was now alive...  You were trying your best to sit up, but struggling due to your limbs being out of practise, and all of the machinery you were wired up and attached to.

"I need a full team in here, now!"  Was all he could think to yell, and immediately he had doctors and nurses arriving in the room behind, each and every one of them looking just as shocked at the scene before them.

As the Force began to catch up with Kylo and fill his veins once again, he was able to pull himself back to his feet, although he still looked like he could collapse at any given moment.  Nevertheless he shoved everyone aside, paying them no mind whilst they tried to read your vitals and work out how in the galaxy you were alive and well suddenly.  He moved to your bedside and cupped your face in his hands.

"You're really here?"  He quietly asked, part of him thinking that he was dreaming right now.

"Yeah, I'm really here."  You whispered back, your voice beginning to sound more recognisable as you now.

He didn't say anything else, he just pulled you close to him and momentarily buried his face in your neck.  He usually refused to show such vulnerability when you were around people, but he was beyond caring about that right now.

You could feel his tears dampening your skin, and your hands gently weaved through his hair, soothingly stroking his dark locks to remind him that you really were there.  Had you not been so dehydrated, you probably would have also been crying - but in your current state you weren't physically capable of it.

When he became aware of your need for medical attention, he reluctantly pulled back and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before withdrawing to allow the medical staff to do their work.

He stayed by your side for hours, until eventually you insisted on leaving and going back to your quarters.  Some things never changed, and Kylo knew that whenever you were in the med-bay for one reason or another you were always keen to leave as soon as possible.

The Chief Medical Officer agreed to your release, but only on the basis that a medical droid be present in your quarters to take your vitals hourly and see to it that you undertake a good diet and stay hydrated.  They were also concerned about your mental wellbeing, although  everything was seemingly fine, you were overwhelmed and it was more than likely that the aftermath of everything you had been through hadn't hit you yet.

That night you and Kylo didn't say much to each other.  You had been somewhat aware whilst you were comatose, and you knew just how much pain he had been in without you.  You had bathed, dressed, and simply laid in bed together with him holding you in his arms.

The last time he had properly held you, you had been on the brink of death after days of relentless torture.  He had started to accept that he would never hold you again, and it felt surreal that you were here in his arms.

There were so many issues he had to iron out, including brining your captors to justice, but for now you were the only thing on his mind.  He never wanted to let you go.

[jasontoddiefor]

Elaborated on the Sith Disaster Lineage thingy

The last lesson her Jedi Master taught Ahsoka was about falling. The other Jedi looked at her with pity in their eyes, Master Yoda even took it upon himself to instruct her. She supposed he saw it as some kind of personal failure that every last member of his lineage was either dead or a Sith. Just the two of them were left and Ahsoka had always been too rash, too emotional and too angry for a Jedi. It had been the reason Obi-Wan had picked her as his Padawan in the first place when nobody else had wanted her.

“You will be a great Knight, Padawan Tano,” the Council told her in the same breath they damned Obi-Wan.

They spoke of promises of power, seduction to the dark side and Vader devouring all of her Master’s light. Ahsoka didn’t know why she hadn’t told them that his name was Anakin Skywalker and that he didn’t have a single seductive bone in his body. Ahsoka would know given that she had spent a few very intense hours stuck in a tiny cell together with a delirious Vader playing sabacc.

In the end, falling was a choice, it wasn’t something that could be forced upon you. You could be guided towards it for sure. Ahsoka had learned that particular lesson when Anakin had talked about his childhood spent at his Sith Master’s throne. Guidance towards the dark meant that he had been given the order to kill everyone his Master put in front of him so he’d be allowed to see his mother. But in the end, it had been his own choice to give himself to the darkness. Ahsoka wondered if that was why Sidious was hunting Anakin down now. He had pushed and pushed and pushed, but Anakin had only really, truly fallen when his mother had died in his arms.

But all these lessons were the reason Ahsoka knew that her Master hadn’t been forced to drown.

He had done this to himself and Darth Vader was not to blame, not in the way the Council was so eager too. Obi-Wan Kenobi had just always felt too strongly. He could be compassionate for the broken shards of glass, the burning supernova that was Anakin Skywalker. And when he realized he couldn’t fix decades of torture and choked down tears, he decided to take it a step further.

“I never wanted this for you, Ahsoka,” her Master said, his voice even and sad.

Obi-Wan’s eyes were golden now and the color suited him surprisingly well. She’d miss the vibrant blue of before, but she would be able to get used to it.

Anakin was standing right behind him, terrifying as ever, but she knew he wouldn’t harm her. After years of meeting on the battlefield, she was aware of all his forms, the way his mech-hand would twitch before he threw himself into a fight.

“I know,” Ahsoka replied and spoke the truth.

Falling was a choice and she had made hers. She was her Master’s student after all and it was her job to learn everything he could teach her, and Ahsoka admittedly didn’t know much about the Sith besides the fact that their fighting style suited the predator inside her much better.

X

(This was too short to be its own chapter but I liked the dialogue. Set a couple weeks after the first scene.)

“Before you kill, you need to close yourself off from the Force,” Anakin told her as if he were talking about the weather.

“What?” Ahsoka froze.

Anakin got up from his seat and walked over to her, stepped uncomfortably close. His sense of personal space was strange, non-existent at times. She couldn’t tell whether that was because he perceived Ahsoka and Obi-Wan as an extension of himself or because Sidious had beaten any of such comforts out of Anakin’s mind. He put his hands over Ahsoka’s and guided her lightsabers towards his own throat. So close to his skin, prolonged exposure would burn him. Ahsoka had powered her ‘sabers down for training, but only minimally.

“This,” Anakin said, "is when you need to cut the connection. The Jedi don’t teach you this because they weren’t taught to kill.”

Ahsoka wanted to protest. She had been told from a young age on how dangerous combat was, that lightsabers weren’t toys but weapons meant to defend-

Oh.

“You’ll go mad if you keep remembering every life you took. The stronger you are in the Force, the more does it vibrate in your mind when you hurt somebody else. Good shields help, but only temporarily. Someday it’ll all catch up to you and it won’t be pretty.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

Ahsoka hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but before she could apologize, Anakin just shook his head and gently pushed her ‘sabers aside.

“No, Sidious just liked to keep me on suppressants as a kid. Deprive me and then give me a taste of it all again. You can’t make someone addicted to the Force, but you can put them through withdrawal. If you are the person who decides it, it just gets a little easier. Now, do you even know how to cut the connection?

“No.”

Why would she? It was the greatest treasure of every Jedi and not following the Force, even just for the fraction of a moment, bordered on heretical.

“Then I’ll teach you.”

[kyberled]

Semi-Plotted Starter for @luminousxbeings​

Everything is gone. Their home, their family, everything. It all happened so fast. So suddenly. He was still reeling, even days later. 

Has it been days? It feels like seconds. Like an eternity. Like--

He doesn’t know. It’s been hard to concentrate. He blames it on the way the Force is crying. Weeping for its lost children.

Not them, though. They’re still here. He and Ace. Somehow, they’re still here. … Wherever it is ‘here’ might be. He’s not sure. It’s safer that way. If nobody knows where they are, they can’t be found as easily. If they didn’t plan their route, it’d be harder to follow. At the same time, it presented complications to them. No clear route, no idea what to do, what was happening… He didn’t know what to do. It was stressful. It was terrifying. 

It was exhausting. 

That’s the only reason he’s able to get any sleep. He has nothing else to run off of. Even Jedi ran out of energy eventually. And they’d taken as many precautions as they could. They’d found a spot away from civilization. A cave, which, if the Force around it was anything to go by, had been abandoned for a while. The layers of dirt and dust and cobwebs over everything served as additional confirmation. It would have to be good enough for the night. And they took precautions. No visible light. No vehicles anywhere near. They hadn’t spoken to anyone beyond what was necessary, hadn’t made any mention of where they were going or even who they were. And, of course, taking shifts on watch. That was a practice long since learned over the course of the war, even if it was a bit less convenient with just the two of them. ‘Convenient’ mattered a lot less than ‘alive’. 

That’s probably why it felt so strange when he woke up on his own. 

“Ace?” He groaned, sitting up and scrubbing the heel of his palm against his eyes. “I thought you were going to wake me. It must be my…” He trailed off as his eyes adjusted to the empty cave. “... Turn.” 

He looked around. There was nobody there. 

“Ace?” He said, louder this time. His hands went to the sabers on his belt even as he searched the Force and stepped outside. Nothing except for trees and the faint drone of insects, the distant hoot of nocturnal reptavians. That was good, at least. The forest went quiet when there was danger around. So, hopefully, that meant that wherever his companion was, he’d gone there willingly, and on his own.

“Ace, can you hear me?”

[greenygreenland]

Wannabe Chap. 10: Star Wars x Reader

-i'm working on so many different things (reboots of a bunch of old wattpad stories of mine and a bunch of one-shots on my tumblr, which is greenygreenland) -my wattpads are APH_Nordic_Greenland and reallygreenland if you're wondering (check them out please!)

'ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ. ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ɢᴏ? ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ...' -ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ, ʀʏᴏᴋᴜᴏᴜꜱʜᴏᴋᴜ ꜱʜᴀᴋᴀɪ

(Y/n) had no problem fighting the troopers back in the detention block. She could go all day even with the splitting amount of headaches she seemed to get all the time. Fighting was simple, but putting up with her so-called 'saviours' was harder.

At this point, she'd pay a hundred credits to shut up Han-whatever-his-last-name-was and Luke-wannabe-skywalker telling the former to shut his freaking trap while Princess-I'm-So-Great tried to keep her Gucci boots out of the garbage water. (Y/n) wasn't sure what evoked such strong emotions within her, so she blamed it on being stuck in a literal dump.

"What an incredible smell you discovered! Let's get out of here." shouted Han. He raised his blaster at the door and Luke's eyes widened as he threw out a hand in a 'STOP!' motion. "No wait!"

Of course it was too late--everything always had to be. So the laser bounced off the door and ricocheted around the durasteel walls, going round and round until it hit some poor unsuspecting box in the corner of the cramped room. "Will you forget about it?" cried Luke. "I already tried it, it's magnetically sealed!"

(Y/n) ignited her lightsaber with a huff. "Excuse me, Chewie." He growled in reply and scooted away from the door. As the group argued behind her, (Y/n) stabbed her lightsaber into the thick durasteel. She guided it through the metal, every now and then pausing to rest her tired arms. 

There was a weird shift in the Force. (Y/n) wanted to say it was her imagination, but gut feelings were signs too complex for the mind to fully comprehend, and it was then that she realised a terrifying fact.

They weren't alone. 

"Put that thing away!" shouted the princess. "You're gonna get us killed!"

"Absolutely your Worship." 

"Excuse me." said (Y/n)

"Look, I had everything under control till you led us down here!"

"Guys."

"You know, it's not gonna take 'em long to figure out what happened to us!" 

(Y/n) adjusted her grip on her lightsaber with a sigh. "Guys! There's something..." A low growl erupted from one of the rubbish piles. "...alive in here." she finished. Han turned to her with a roll of his eyes. "That's your imagination, Space Wizard." 

"No, I think (Y/n)'s right." countered Luke. He suddenly jolted in the air with a screech. "Something just moved past my leg!" (Y/n) shivered as Luke pointed to a slimy object swimming past him. "Look!" he cried. "Did you see that?!" (Y/n) gripped her saber so tightly that she thought she'd break it. Han, on the other hand, didn't seem to believe anything he was seeing. "What?!" he demanded. "I don't see it!" (Y/n) concluded that he was perhaps blind to the supernatural. Chewie let out a panicked growl and clawed at the door. 

"Keep it busy so I can cut open this door!" shouted (Y/n). Her sweaty hands didn't help her cause as she held on to her saber for dear life. As each second passed with Luke, Han, and the princess screaming bloody murder, (Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe--maybe because the walls had begun to move. Wait, move? (Y/n) spared a glance past her shoulder. "Where--where is it?" 

"I think Han scared it." said Luke.

The walls creaked and wobbled eerily. (Y/n) realised it was not her imagination and that yes, the walls were going to squash them if she didn't slice open a hole to sweet safety.

(Y/n) didn't like that thought; nobody liked that thought.

They were going to die in piles of garbage on some base in the middle of who-knows-where all because (Y/n) couldn't slash through the five-inch thick durasteel door. "Come on, come on...." She stared at the half-moon she had created in the door. Almost there. Just a few seconds left. 

"Can't you cut through the door faster?!" shouted Han. (Y/n) forced her lightsaber through the door with so much force that her knuckles turnt white. "I'm trying! I'm trying!"

"Don't just stand there yelling at her!" ordered Leia. "Try and brace the walls with something! We have to give her time!" 

(Y/n) was sweating buckets. The walls were closing in on them and there wasn't enough time. Luke whipped out his comlink again in hopes of contacting someone, but hope seemed so far away. "I think we're going to die." whispered (Y/n).

"Don't say that!" shouted Luke. "3-PO? 3-PO! Come in! 3-PO?!"

Luke eventually gave up on contacting 3-PO and jumped over to help (Y/n) cut through the door. His warm hands over hers was a big help, but not enough.

"One thing's for sure," Han said, "we're all gonna be a lot thinner!" 

(Y/n)'s lightsaber passed through the last of the durasteel, and with a firm Force push, the circle flew into the hall. (Y/n) deactivated her lightsaber. "Go, go, go!" She stood at the door as Luke, Chewie, Han, and the princess jumped through the hole. (Y/n) was the last to emerge, gasping for air that didn't smell like trash and nearly falling on her face with buckling knees. Luke and Han began removing their armour. Once Luke had finished, he sent (Y/n) a concerned look. "Are you okay? You're really pale." 

(Y/n) adjusted her robes and Force-pushed the durasteel cut-out back into its place. Her knees buckled again, but before she collapsed, Luke caught her by the waist and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Leia rounded on everyone with fiery eyes. She motioned for everyone to follow her as she dusted off her dress. "I don't know who you are or where any of you came from, but from here on out, you listen to me." Everyone followed suit after her, mostly because they didn't have a choice. The princess sent Chewie a look of disgust as soon as he caught up to her. "Will someone get this walking carpet out of my way?" She brushed past him as Han and Luke exchanged glances of irritation. The latter whipped out his rod-like comm and held it to his lips.

"3-PO, do you copy?"

"Yes."

"Are you safe?"

"At the moment. We're in the main hanger across the ship." Luke nodded and said, "We're right above you, stand-by." The group paused at a large window overlooking the hanger. A large ship that could fit at least three or four Jedi starfighters stood smack in the middle of the hanger, where bright lights shone overhead as if to display the hunk of junk.

"You came in that thing?" questioned the princess. "You're braver than I thought."

She led the group down the hall and rounded a sharp corner. From the end of the hall, (Y/n) spotted a group of troopers. For some reason, at that exact time, they were incredibly perceptive, and whipped around to rain lasers down on the group. 

"It's them! Blast 'em!"

(Y/n) raised a hand and Force-pushed the troopers into a hall to the left. She slammed her fist down on a control panel and shut the blast doors. Another group appeared and Han ran after them with Chewie by his side. "Get back to the ship!" he screeched. (Y/n) knitted her brows. "What about you? You both will die!" Han continued running down the hall like a raging bantha until he and Chewie were out of sight.

(Y/n) didn't know if that was brave or stupid.

Luke took Leia and (Y/n) by the arms, pulling them along the opposite direction of where Han ran. "Where are we going? Han went right, not left!" He came to a skidding stop at the edge of the hallway, where a bridge should have stood over a never ending abyss of black. Luke stumbled a bit, teetering towards the edge like a bowling ball out of control. (Y/n) seized Luke by the arm as he released the princess. With a firm pull, she hauled him back to safety. "I think we took the wrong turn." he innocently announced. (Y/n) sighed. "Ya think?" 

There was a group of pounding footsteps behind, and before any could raise a single blaster, (Y/n) slammed her hand on a panel. The door slid shut with a firm click, but it didn't lock.

A frown bled onto (Y/n)'s lips. "Right." She whipped out her lightsaber and slashed at the panel until smoke and sparks flew into the air. "Now for this." She eyed the gaping abyss before her, hoping, and praying that no one would fall. It could have gone down for hundreds of yards for all she knew, so if she made any mistakes, it would be game over. 

(Y/n) rubbed her hands together with a focused sigh. She closed her eyes and held out both hands.

"Watch out!" Luke was about to push (Y/n) out of the way, but she focused on the laser flying her way and deflected it back to the level above them. Although it missed the guy's head by centimetres, he wasn't so lucky because Luke and the Princess blasted the heck out of the troopers, rendering them either immobile, dead, or tumbling into the abyss below. They must have realised that they needed reinforcements, because they disappeared back the way they came.

"Princess." (Y/n) stated. She lifted her hands up as if she were moving through water, and with a gentle flick of her hands, levitated the princess to the other side. She landed safely and took cover in the threshold of the door. "Luke, you--" (Y/n) threw a hand to her head with a small yelp. A cold feeling settled into her stomach, and it reminded her so much of...

...of the Chancellor.

But this time? This time it hurt. It wasn't only a chilling, passing feel, but a pain in her very skull like a blast to her head. 

"Is she okay?" shouted Leia from the other side.

Luke was saying something to (Y/n), but she couldn't hear him. There was an insistent ringing in her ears like static when her signal had been lost. She closed her eyes, and then the white and black hallways disappeared.

They morphed into a rounded room of black, where the only light giving way were the stars. A man stepped towards her that she should have recognised, but the presence just didn't sit right with her. He was clad in a black suit of sorts and had a helmet over his head. His breathing was like a child's laugh in a horror movie: unnerving, unnatural, and almost scary. 

(Y/n) wanted to say she knew this man, yet she didn't. Where was the kind, loving face of Anakin Skywalker her best friend?  

"So you live." 

There were two hands on (Y/n)'s shoulders that sucked her out of the room and into reality. "Are you alright?" questioned Luke. "What happened? Are you hurt?" His voice was tender and sweet, but it offered (Y/n) no comfort. 

"You know what? You've done enough saving for today." Luke said, throwing a hand into his stolen belt. He produced a grappling hook and threw it onto one of the beams high in the air. Luke gave the line a tug before wrapping an arm around (Y/n)'s waist. A few troopers appeared, but Luke was quick to shoot them down. 

"You ready?" he kindly questioned. (Y/n) weakly held onto his shoulders as he adjusted his grip on the line. "No." Luke heaved in a deep breath before bravely kicking off the bridge. "Neither was I!" he exclaimed. Much to his relieved surprise, the two landed safely on the other side. Leia took (Y/n) by the arm and helped her over as Luke pulled out his blaster.

They continued running through the halls, and even with both Leia and Luke hanging onto (Y/n)'s limp shoulders, she had trouble keeping up. All she was to them was dead weight, yet for some reason, they kept helping her along.

The group had to maneuver past troopers, through various halls, and past the extremely annoying mouse droids sweeping past. When the group came to the entrance of the docking bay, (Y/n) almost sighed in relief. Hiding in a corner were Chewie and Han, safe from harm and prying eyes.

"What kept you up? And what happened to you?" Han motioned to (Y/n) as Luke adjusted his grip around her shoulders. "We...ran into some bucketheads." (Y/n) weakly answered. 

"Is the ship okay?" questioned Luke. Han shrugged a shoulder. "Seems okay, if we can get to it. I just hope the old man got the tractor beam down." (Y/n) was about to inquire about the tractor beam, but that sharp pain returned in her head tenfold with the presence of Anakin. 

But that couldn't be, she scolded herself. He was on Coruscant, one of the many core planets far away from here. Maybe he was out with a search party this very moment, or maybe he was trying to contact her through all the jammed signals. Whatever presence she felt here couldn't be Anakin's. 

It just wasn't possible.

A group of troopers raced right past the group as if they didn't exist. They continued into the hanger and where (Y/n) felt the presence. Luke and the princess surveyed the area before speed-walking as fast as physically possible towards the sad excuse for a ship.

Han and Chewie kept a look-out, either one at the end of the chain or top. (Y/n) was just at the ramp of the ship before her body went rigid again. Luke must have felt something too, because he faltered and turned to look at where the troopers had gathered.

(Y/n) had never been so confused in her life. Not when Shaak started training her, not when Anakin had first taught her how to pilot, and not when her men first taught her how to make 'good' jokes.

In a hallway only a few hundred yard away stood the man from (Y/n)'s vision along with Obi-wan. No, but that couldn't be right. Obi-wan wasn't an old man, and the guy in the black suit couldn't have been Anakin. They shouldn't be here, and neither should she.

The two looked to be locked in a battle to the death, and as much as (Y/n) tried to deny it, she felt scared. It was hard being confused for a good few hours, but this? Oh, it topped the nonexistant cake with the frosting, decor, and cherry on top.

"Ben?" called Luke. The old man paused for a moment, his bright eyes meeting Luke's before meeting (Y/n)'s. She let out a sort of strangled gasp in bewilderment. That...that was Master Obi-wan Kenobi!

The guy clad in black raised his saber high above his head. Everything after that happened too quickly for (Y/n) to process. Obi-wan disappeared just as the glowing blade connected with his hood, then Luke screamed, and (Y/n) screamed louder. The princess took the lead after that, yanking (Y/n) out of harms way and leading her towards the ship as Luke shot the troops in an anguished frenzy.

Just as (Y/n) made her way up the ramp, the man in black met her gaze, and the words fell from her lips before she could stop them.

"Ani?"

PART 11

[enchanted-prose]

#5 The Vaults (Part 1)

Hey howdy hey! Publishing a little fic for the fun of it, please be sure to check the notes!

Word count: 4,325

Characters: Roden, Dawn, The Faola (Original Characters), Ayvar (Original Character), Brat, Roach, and Beetle (Original Characters)

Notes: Reader discretion is advised, as this story deals with a darker side of Drylliad. Several important places and people make an appearance in this story, so if you’re looking for something that adds more plot to this ficlet series, this one is for you!

Enjoy! 

It was late. It was raining.

Two ingredients for a delightfully uneventful evening.

Roden hung his cloak on the wooden pegs by the Dragon's Keep's front door. He did his best to shake the water from his hair without getting water everywhere.

For some reason, the empty tavern made his skin crawl with anxiety.

Usually it was teeming with people making poor choices.

"Hello Dawn!" Roden said with a grin as he took a seat at the wooden countertop.

Dawn, a large woman who served in the Avenian War and the owner of the Dragon's Keep, waved, "Captain! Can't imagine why you're awake at this ungodly hour. Is there anything, or anyone, you want from here?"

Her teasing chuckle made Roden wonder what she was talking about.

Did it have to do with that night he'd drank too much and supposedly threw a man out of a window?

"I'd love a cheese bun, maybe something warm," he plastered a grin on his face. "Long night ahead, it's my turn to patrol the Vaults."

"Ah, the Vaults, I'll be sure to get you anything you need."

"Is, ah, is Merry here?"

A tiny glimmer of hope seeped through Roden's cold hands. It would be nice to see a friend before marching through the Vaults.

Marching directly into Drylliad's most crime ridden sector.

"She went to bed several hours ago, love," Dawn turned to the large wall of kegs. "But I'll tell her you asked-"

"No, no, please don't. It's alright, I, ah, I just wanted to talk to somebody before. . . Y'know. . ."

"Before heading to the Vaults?"

"Yes." It wasn't in Roden to admit that the Vaults made him nervous.

He'd seen frightening things before. He'd fought with seemingly endless waves of soldiers. Held his own against notorious pirates.

But it was easy to block out those people and fulfill a task.

It was another thing to look true evil in the face.

To look true evil in the face and sometimes fail at saving everyone he could.

The Vaults were originally built by one of Carthya's queens in an attempt to give more room to businesses and places to live. Originally, the Vaults were simply called the Queen's Close, and

were made up of several tight alleyways, rooms, and labyrinthine passages.

And they were all underground.

It didn't take very long for the Vaults to fill with the plague, and they were closed to public use.

Despite the danger and sickness, people continued to seek shelter there if they couldn't live anywhere else.

Many people didn't let the threat of death stop them from seeking shelter from a storm.

Roden knew that there'd be more people than usual hiding in the Vaults.

He only hoped that the cold kept criminals hidden in the shadows.

"You'll be alright, Captain, I have full faith in you," Dawn said, setting a steaming hot mug in front of him. She rummaged below the wooden counter, "And there's something I need to give to you."

"Dawn, you shouldn't have," Roden cracked a smile as he sipped at his drink.

Oh! Cider!

Dawn held up a coin attached to a leather string, "This is for you, from a friend. This friend claims it'll keep you safe, though I'm not sure from what. It's kind of small."

"Which friend?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Take your cheese bun, love, and the coin. Be safe tonight.”

Roden cracked a grin, and reached for Dawn’s hand over the counter. He pressed a kiss to her calloused fingers, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Come back any time,” Dawn chuckled. “And don’t get into trouble!”

Her words rang in his head as he stepped out into the rain, cloak on his shoulders and the coin tied to his belt.

Don’t get into trouble!

Roden didn’t actively seek trouble-

Actually, yes, he did actively seek out trouble. He sought out trouble and he liked to punch it in the face.

Although sometimes trouble punched him right back.

Roden patted his mare's neck as they  quietly left the warm, safe light pouring out of the Dragon's Keep. The rain that had been lightly drizzling before was now falling much harder. Heavy rain meant a heavy population of people in the Vaults.

Maybe he should've forced somebody to come patrol with him.

No, he didn't have the heart to drag his fellow soldiers from a good night's rest. Besides, he'd taken care of the Vaults on his own before, he was strong enough to do it again.

There wasn't a single person in sight on the streets of Drylliad.

Everybody was either tucked into a warm sleeping space or hiding out of the rain.

It didn't take long before Roden's cloak was completely soaked.

Saints, he hated cloaks. They only ever got in the way.

Several entrances to the Vaults could be found in lower Drylliad, the entrypoints near the castle were sealed up several generations ago. And good thing too, as it wasn't uncommon for the plague to claim victims deep within the undergound labyrinth. . .

Once the streets had been cleared, Roden knew it was time to venture into the Vaults. He tied up his mare within the safety of an inn's stable, rubbed the new coin hanging near his sword, and sludged through the rain.

The first time he'd been in the Vaults was something he'd never forget.

People covered in sores were reaching to him and the six other guards. Children were huddled in corners, having frozen to death in the night. Scalps hung drying from wooden rafters.

As much as the Carthyan guard tried, people always made their way into the Vaults.

They had no place to go.

Hand on his short longsword, Roden squared his shoulders. The rain was falling in heavy blankets now. It almost hid the narrow, pitch black alleyway leading down into the Vaults. The Saints only knew what was awaiting him down there this time around.

He'd brought a lamp with him, tucked under his arm to keep out of the rain. Thank goodness for that.

Stepping into the alleyway, Roden kept his eyes glued to the dark, just in case anybody was thinking about jumping out at him. He lit a match, and dropped it into the lantern's glass shell.

Dull yellow light illuminated the dark alley. Roden held it high above his head, careful to keep it out of harm's way. He scanned the alley as his eyes adjusted to the sudden surge of lantern light.

Nobody was lurking in that front alley.

And who could blame them? Water was practically streaming across the floor. You'd catch your death long before any thieves got around to stealing your scalp right off of your head.

Pushing onwards, Roden set his hand on his sword hilt, taking in every detail that he could.

This entrance was completely cleared.

Another pitch black entrance waited to be patrolled. Roden knew this area well, there were stairs leading into a large room. There was a second entrance there, a large arching tunnel that led out to the lowest portion of Drylliad. Adjacent to this open tunnel was a series of stairs going in different directions.

Sometimes it seemed like those stairs were leading straight down to the hellish Devils' lair.

But Roden knew better. He'd seen the Vaults with both lantern light and spotted daylight pouring in through holes in the ceiling.

He'd faced off with the demons lurking in the Vaults before.

Though it would be a lie to say he wasn't a little nervous.

No matter how hard he tried to be quiet, the sounds of his footsteps echoed through the large room.

And he saw his first person.

"You there," Roden kept his voice even, yet stern. It was something he picked up from Mott. "State your business!"

The person, who'd been disguised as a lump thanks to a massive black cloak, said nothing.

As a precaution, Roden pulled his blade free. He took a step forwards, and repeated his demand.

And still, the lump of a person said nothing.

Dread began to pool in Roden's stomach. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the person was suffering from the plague, only wanting to die away from the eyes of strangers, or if the lumpy mass was a terrified child.

"State. Your. Business."

"Rot. In. Hell!" Roared the figured, bursting into life.

Instantly, Roden recognized his attacker.

True, it had been a few weeks since their first encounter, but Roden couldn't forget the snarling voice that belonged to a short bandit hellbent on attacking Lord Feall, a friend to Carthya's royal court.

Swinging the lamp to safety, Roden held his sword out, prepared to meet the Faola's blade. This one fought with a saber, or at least that's what he remembered. But this time, the Faola was fighting with a short longsword, just like Roden.

This type of fight was easy.

Roden lunged to attack, fully prepared for when the Faola caught and parried his blow.

He was stronger than the Faola attacking him. All he had to do was push hard enough and-

The Faola fighting him dropped the sword, and ducked to avoid the rebound from Roden's blade.

From darkness, a second Faola had appeared, wielding another short longsword and a dagger.

Roden took several steps back, sizing up this second opponent, but no attack came.

The second Faola kicked the first one's rump, and gestured first to the third stairway, and then to Roden, sweeping their hands around their middle.

"Attacking-," Roden began, but the second Faola looked him dead in the face, and spoke.

"It was a misunderstanding," the second Faola said, their voice rough and deep.

"No, it wasn't," insisted Roden, his blade held out. He didn't trust either of them.

The Faola whispered between themselves for several seconds.

Their argument seemed to be coming to an end once the first Faola stood up, and held their fists up, preparing to attack Roden. The second Faola held up his sword.

Great.

Inhaling deeply, Roden sank into a fighting stance, ready to launch himself at the two bandits.

A plan flashed before his eyes. He'd get rid of the unarmed one first by delivering a swift blow to the head with the butt of his sword, that way, he could attack the second armed Faola without any distract-

With a mighty grunt, the second Faola shoved the first towards Roden, sprinting down the third stairwell just as the unarmed Faola tumbled to the ground near Roden's feet.

He, ah, he wasn't expecting that.

As quickly as he could, Roden held the point to the Faola's face, "Take off the hood and mask."

"Please, don't make me do this," the Faola begged, clasping their hands behind their head. "You wouldn't-"

"Take off the mask," ordered Roden.

"Please! My reputation-!"

"You should've thought of your reputation before you turned to a life of banditry."

The Faola scoffed, "Banditry. Your friend, the ambassador's husband, the regent. He knows what we do, you fool."

Never a good idea to call somebody a fool if they have a sword pointed directly at your throat.

"Take off the mask, or I'll be peeling it off of my sword in a few seconds," he said. "One."

"Captain Harlowe! What we do isn't a bad-!"

"Two."

"We only take from-! Devils have you!" The Faola cried, throwing off his hood.

A shock of long, scarlet hair tumbled down the Faola's back. When the mask came off, Roden was only slightly surprised to see a pretty pair of earth green eyes and a slim nose.

The Faola he'd nearly slaughtered those weeks ago was, in fact, a young woman.

Her voice still carried the rasp from before, "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Roden would've chuckled if he wasn't standing in the Vaults. He kept his sword in hand, "You're playing a dangerous game."

"And you've got your hands full."

"I can still run you through."

That shut the Faola up.

"What's your name?" Roden asked. He was weighing his options in  his mind. Tobias's claims about the Faola depicted them as citizens acting outside of the law to help others. . . But Roden knew enough about gangs of bandits.

Everybody was acting for their own interest.

He suspected that the Faola were simply gaining popularity with the public so they'd get away with larger crimes all due to the fact that they would be loved by the working man.

"Ayvar," said the red haired girl, her voice not at all matching her face. "Please sir, please let me go."

"Get up," Roden growled, his sword trained on Ayvar's throat. "Hands behind your back."

It was odd, the fact that Ayvar was doing what she was told. She crossed her wrists, and held her head up high. Roden sheathed his sword. Typically, when facing off with somebody in the Vaults, there weren't any moral questions. He'd disarm the criminals, leave them unconscious, and tie their hands together until reinforcements could come to arrest them.

There were three soldiers stationed at the city walls, all Roden needed to do was march Ayvar out of the tunnel, wave his lantern, and she'd be handled.

A thought crossed his mind.

The price for banditry and murder was high.

No rock solid evidence existed that proved Ayvar's guilt or innocence.

"Tell me what your business was here," Roden ordered. "And be honest. It'll save both of us a lot of hardship."

The sound of dripping water filled the large room. Ayvar was refusing to speak.

Or maybe she was trying to think of a lie.

"Have you thought of an elaborate, misguiding-," began Roden.

There was courage in Ayvar's deep voice, "I only come because one of my own asked me to."

"That's not a good enough reason. Ayvar, in the name of the king, you are placed under arrest."

She didn't put up a fight as Roden took her by the arm, walked out to the tunnel, and waved the lantern over his head.

He bound her hands together, and left her sitting in the dark tunnel.

There was still work to be done in the lower Vaults.

There was still another Faola running rampant in the dark.

Casting one last glance at Ayvar, Roden descended down the third stairwell, hoping he'd see the second Faola.

Each of the three stairways down had recognizable features. Two of them were harmless, they consisted of thriving mushrooms or green mold.

That wasn't the case for this third pathway down.

Dark, asymmetrical streaks decorated the right wall of the stairway. Matching splatters lined the left. Crackling stains were spread across the floor.

This tunnel had a special name: The Murdering Path.

Death was always waiting at the end of this stairway in one form or another.

Sometimes it was a bloodbath.

Sometimes it was a group of diseased corpses.

And sometimes it was a little girl reaching for her dropped doll as she waited for her parents to come save her.

The last image remained on Roden's mind more than he wanted to admit. It haunted his dreams. Reminded him that no matter how hard he tried, there were always people who slipped through the cracks and went unseen until death came for them.

The little girl and her dropped doll kept him trying to look for those who often went underfoot.

Roden steeled himself against what he couldn't see at the base of the Murdering Path. He pressed his back to the wall, drew his sword, and stepped into the second room.

Lantern light swathed the dark area, catching on fallen tables and lost toys. He stepped further into the room, searching for any more people disguised as uninteresting lumps of fabric. Light reflected back at him.

A tiny pool of blood.

Trouble was brewing.

He stood frozen in a defensive stance, listening for any sounds that went against the drumming of the rain and the constant drip of ruined water.

Shuffling.

Timid shuffling.

Roden tiptoed around the edges of the room, trying to locate where the sound came from. There were several more stairways leading deeper still, as well as several other hallways opening up into other rooms.

It took two more turns around the room before he was able to locate the sound of the shuffling, which actually turned out to be sniffling.

Experience taught him to recognize the cloak.

The black fabric barely held together by a few strings and a handful of dark patches belonged to the second Faola.

If the second Faola was hoping to surprise him, he'd be in for a surprise.

There was a slight hissing as a drop of rain splattered onto the lantern's glass casing. The patchwork lump stopped sniffling. Roden gingerly stepped towards it. A tiny sneeze rocked the lump, followed by the tiny sound of tiny hands hitting a tiny face.

"State your business," Roden lowered his sword only slightly, skeptical of a surprise attack. "This is Captain Harlowe, you will not be harmed if you comply."

A set of child fingers peeked out from the top of the patchwork cloak. There was a series of hissing, whispering, and more smacking.

"State your business," he repeated.

No sound came from the cloak.

Somebody coughed behind him.

The second Faola stood with a dagger extended, his cloak missing.

“You used the same trick twice to trap me,” Roden noted, setting the lantern on the ground a few inches from the discarded cloak

The Faola grunted, a discordant sound, “I did no such thing. My colleague was on the lookout for me. She mistook you for somebody else.”

“You were going to stab me in the back.”

“Quite the opposite, actually, I was going to have you stab somebody else-”

“I doubt that.”

“- in the back while that monstrosity was tucked away.” The second Faola gestured to the cloaked lump, lowered his dagger, and held up his hand in surrender. “I told them not to move until you or me came back.”

Roden would have to berate himself for trusting the wrong people later if the Faola left him for dead. He tilted his head to the lump, “What’s hiding under there?”

“A trio of demonic children, we were going to smuggle them out,” the Faola shrugged. “I have nothing to hide, Captain. Keep your heads down, runts”

A tiny child’s hand was barely visible below the hem of the Faola’s cloak. It vanished the second the Faola snapped his order.

“Why?”

It was a simple question.

The Faola shrugged, “Because I like to eat children for breakfast.”

“You’re making jokes in an area known for atrocities similar to what you just described,” Roden pointed out.

“Then I suppose I’ll start making jokes about my dietary habits any day now. Think they’ll- I’m joking, I swear it. You have two choices now. Kill me and get those kids to safety, but let the scum who brought them here roam the Vaults-”

“Or take the children to safety and leave you to remain with villains you probably get along with.”

“I was going to suggest that you help me catch them, actually,” the Faola pressed his hands to his chest. “My heart would break if I had one.”

Once again, Roden was looking at the cloak, it was much easier to make out the tiny shapes of three children trying their best to stay still. He stared at the Faola, once again weighing his options.

Well, actions did speak louder than words.

“We can’t just leave them here,” Roden gestured to the hidden trio. “What if they’re stolen away?”

“Then we’ll-,” the Faola obviously hadn’t thought of that. He balled his hands into fists, “They’ll be fine.”

“What if-”

“We can’t afford to think in what ifs, people like you and I, sir knight.”

“You can’t gamble with an innocent’s life.”

“Then stay here. Listen for screaming, probably curses too, everyone hates me here,” the Faola said as he stepped forward. He patted Roden’s cheek, rubbed his eyes, and slipped back into the shadows.

Unfortunately, the encounter wasn’t the strangest one he’d had with a criminal.

Roden shrugged out of his thick cloak, and settled it on top of the now squirming children, “It’s alright, you don’t need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” sniffled one of the children, fiercely pulling aside both cloaks. “I want to go home!”

“Where is your home?” Roden asked, kneeling beside the trio.

Two girls, one boy.

“I don’t- I, ah, it’s by the pigs,” said the first child as she pushed her dirty pale curls from her eyes.

“I don’t have a home,” said the second girl, throwing her arms around Roden. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“I would very much like to have. . .”

Roden did his best to nod his head at the right times as the second little girl struggled to find the word she wanted. If he balanced the three children, he’d be able to take them back up Murder Path and into safety.

They’d be held at the gatehouse for a week to see if any parents came for them. After that, Imogen would assist in helping them find a place to live.

The Faola’s words creeped across his neck.

Let the scum who brought them here roam free. . .

“Tell me your names,” Roden interrupted the second girl, who still hadn’t figured out what she wanted to say.

The tiny girl with white curls poked out her chin, “I’m Brat!”

“My name- my name is Roach,” said the second girl, a smile spreading across her face. “Will you get me a -”

“They call me Beetle,” murmured the little boy.

Roden did his best to remain quiet and patient as he used his cloak as a makeshift pack to carry Brat on his back.

With Beetle on his right hip, and Roach on his left with the lantern in her hand, Roden crept back up Murder Path.

Anxiety trickled through his bones.

Every drip could’ve masked a footstep.

Halfway up Murder Path, Brat sneezed into Roden’s ear.

He froze.

When the coast was clear, he resumed the nerve wracking trek up to that main room.

The Devils must’ve been in a good mood- the large room was empty. Roden stepped out of the dark tunnel, or at least as far as he could while still avoiding the rain. His heart pounded against his ribs as Roach proudly waved the lantern.

Any second now. . .

Any second now, and those three sentinels would be there to take the trio to safety.

Faint shouts and curses snaked their way up the Murder Path. The Faola must’ve found trouble.

Hurry up!

Brat had to have heard the fighting. She buried her snotty face into Roden’s neck, humming as loud and as tuneless as she could.

It was wrong to leave the Faola to fight a large group of thugs.

But Roden refused to leave the trio of children waiting all alone for help.

By the time the three guards arrived and had taken a child in their arms, Roden was certain it was too late. Roach insisted on pressing sloppy kisses all over his face, while Brat blew her nose into his tunic one last time.

He hardly had time to answer any questions the guards had before he was bolting down Murder Path, the lantern swinging all over the place.

What was he thinking? Dashing after a masked bandit?

Roden couldn’t argue for or against assisting the Faola as he tried his best to avoid dark puddles that looked a little too much like hardening blood. The sounds from before were growing quieter and quieter.

The odds were stacked too high against the Faola.

They were both idiots. The Faola by walking off into the Vaults alone, and Roden for following.

Turn after turn, room after room, Roden searched for any sign of a skirmish. Any evidence that there had been a fight in the first place.

His lantern was beginning to flicker.

Saints, what was he going to do without it?

Wait-

What was he going to do without it?

A million reasons why he should turn around and walk away raced through his head. Roden quietly ignored them all as he backtracked out of the room he was in, and set the lantern out in the covered hall. It wouldn’t be long before the lantern flickered.

He held up his fists. Drawing a sword in the dark would only spell trouble, but he still wanted to be ready to throw blows if somebody decided to surprise him the second the lantern’s flame went out.

Soon, Roden was in total darkness.

Irrational fear seeped through his iron will.

He could die down here, all alone. And what if he did? Nobody would find him, except for the hungry rats and hungry pe-

No. The Faola was right.

People like the two of them couldn’t think about what ifs.

Roden held perfectly still as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the Vaults.

He’d wrongly assumed that there wasn’t any light down there.

Faint streaks of yellow light tried their best to penetrate the room, and several streaks managed to do so.

Using these faint patches of light, Roden inched his way into the darkness, listening for any sound of another human being.

There was a pattern to walking deeper into the Vaults.

First, Roden did his best to see if there were any puddles, as those were asking for noise. He then inched his way forward, brushing his foot side to side as he did so. The simple, two-step pattern continued for what seemed like ages.

One day, he’d have to ask Jaron how to get through a room completely undetected.

The streaks of light were growing more and more frequent. Roden swore they were leading to a room with at least a little bit of-

Light.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Introduces his Jedi Babies (and Himself)

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Warnings for: canon-typical dismemberment, unfortunately-aimed puppy crushes

Word count: 5,839

-------------------------

The first time a Jedi meets a Skywalker, it’s on Bandomeer.

The planet is close to Mandalorian space. Finding someone associated with Mandalore is, technically, not that surprising. There are even Mandalorian operations on the planet.

What is surprising is the fact that the person from Mandalorian space is an unfamiliar Jedi Knight who is utterly unstoppable.

(Obi-Wan Kenobi has no way of knowing how similar his experiences are to what might have been, on this planet. Mandalore has been interfering in operations here ever since Ylliben Skywalker started reporting visions about the coming catastrophe. Where that interference has helped or hurt... well. There’s no way to know.)

(Is there?)

When Xanatos shows up and starts taunting Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, there’s a giggle from the doorway.

All three have to turn to look at the individual in question.

Mid-twenties, leaning against the doorframe, slim but strong, covered in dark fabric and half a set of armor. A scar by one eye, well-kept hair, and a smirk that could burn the longest fuse. A lightsaber, unlit, in one gloved hand.

This man is... very attractive, Obi-Wan thinks. This is not an appropriate thought for the situation. Obi-Wan thinks he can maybe blame it on the exhaustion.

“No, no, keep going,” the stranger says, sounding like there’s a laugh stuck in his throat. He waves dismissively. “Let’s, ah, let’s hear the master plan. Good ranting voice, maybe a six out of ten on the ‘I’m better than you’ and a four on the actual intimidation. You can do better.”

“Excuse me?” Xanatos hisses, sounding incredibly malicious to Obi-Wan’s ears. “Just who do you think you are?”

“And now you’re overselling it,” the stranger sighs. “Are you new at this? You seem new at this.”

“I would... also like to know who you are,” Master Jinn admits, shifting uncertainly as he tries to keep both du Crion and the stranger in his sights.

“I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jedi Knight, here to fight darksiders because... that’s my life, apparently,” the man says, looking down at his arm for some reason. He shakes his head and looks up at them with a bright grin. “Do you need some help, Master Jinn?”

“You still haven’t told us your name.”

“This is true,” the knight says. “That said, I’ve been told by my boss to explicitly avoid naming myself while on this mission for a variety of reasons.”

“Your... boss,” du Crion drawls. “Not the Council, then.”

“Current supervisor,” the stranger offers as correction, completely unconcerned. “It’s a complicated situation, don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t worry about nonentities.”

The man purses his lips like he’s trying very, very hard not to laugh again. It’s very mocking. “Sure, kid.”

Xanatos has had his lightsaber out ever since Obi-Wan and Master Jinn entered the room, but he does one of those fancy, meant-to-be-intimidating one-handed saber twirls as he turns to face the Knight.

The man’s smirk widens. “You do realize you’re going to lose, right? C’mon, kid--”

“I’m older than you!”

“I did like zero research on you as a person, just your many and varied crimes; how old are you?”

Du Crion’s face goes pinched. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Ah, yeah, no, I’m older,” the knight says. “Only a few years, but I’m also a delightfully obnoxious little bastard who ages real slow for, uh, reasons--”

Obi-Wan is fascinated. This man is very strange. And very pretty.

Obi-Wan may be light-headed. Is he bleeding? Blood loss would explain this.

Obi-Wan isn’t bleeding. Damn.

“--anyway, I’m sure I’ve got a more interesting life with more mature experiences than you,” the knight says. “So even if I wasn’t older in body, I’d be older in spirit.”

The knight’s entire sense of being carries such an air of banthashit that Obi-Wan can barely believe it. It’s almost impressive. Obi-Wan wonders how often this man just opens his mouth and immediately gets punched in the face.

“You talk a lot for a man in someone else’s domain.”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” the knight says. “At least I’m not flirting with you. That’s what my master did with almost every darksider we met except his grandmaster.”

Du Crion pauses.

Obi-Wan has the distinct feeling that he and Master Jinn have lost any control they might have, at any point, had over this situation. They hadn’t had much control in the first place, but anything they did have is squarely in the stranger’s court right now. The silver lining to that is that du Crion is thoroughly distracted and has also lost some control of the situation.

“Besides,” the man continues, completely ignoring the very red lightsaber that is being very obviously readied for his death. “This is not that big of an advantage for you. I mean, hey, the fancy central console that can only be reached by skinny walkways with no railings are a nice touch, all chromed metal and minimal lighting, very dramatic, but there’s no lava. I’m not, like, chained to a rock in the middle of an arena for a public execution at the hands of starving animals the size of a fighter ship. You’re threatening to kill me personally instead of standing in the most expensive box of the theater, sipping your wine and congratulating yourself on step one of a plan that has another fifty-thousand steps and no end in sight. You--”

“Is there a point to this?”

“I’m just saying, I’ve been in worse situations by better darksiders than you. This is sad. You’re sad. Try harder.”

Obi-Wan makes a little noise in the back of his throat. Nobody seems to notice, but Master Jinn does put a hand on his shoulder. That’s nice.

“I don’t have any interest in setting up a public execution.”

“What kind of a Sith wannabe are you?” the knight asks, tilting his head. Obi-Wan distantly notes that his hair is longer than initially assumed; it’s just held back and curled. “Public executions are a whole thing. It’s like you’re not even trying. Tell me you’ve at least got vague plans to hand me off to a pirates instead of killing me so you can make some comment about me not even being worth the effort.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” du Crion asks, his voice the kind of forced casual level nonsense that shows he’s actually very, very frustrated. Obi-Wan could almost believe that du Crion is as uninterested as he’s pretending to be.

“If I was trying to get myself killed, I’d... pick a fight with the Trade Federation, maybe? I mean, I survived that when I was nine but they’d probably take me more seriously this time.” The knight taps at his chin. “I don’t even know where the actual Sith is, but--”

“There are no more Sith,” du Crion scoffs.

Oh, the knight looks pitying now. Obi-Wan likes that much more than he should. It just really suits the man’s face.

Quin’s going to make so much fun of him later.

“I have fought multiple Sith,” the man says, slowly and clearly, as though explaining something to a child. “My master fought more than that. I lost my arm to a Sith when I was nineteen. You can say they’re gone, but I don’t trust like that.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” du Crion says, rolling his eyes. “It has been a thousand years since the Sith were wiped out. Much as I’d like them to still be around, I’m not going to--”

“Oh!” the knight exclaims. “You’re lying! You do think they’re back, this whole mess is you auditioning.”

Du Crion stares at the man as though he’s lost what few marbles he had. “Excuse me?”

“You want to be the next Sith Apprentice,” the man says, cheerfully unconcerned by the mounting tension in the air. “That’s adorable. Well, no, actually, it’s very bad, both for you and for everyone else, and now it means I can’t just kill you in battle like I was planning because the Jedi are going to need you for information. Blast.”

Du Crion’s eyes widen. It is not in fear, but in incredulity. Obi-Wan thinks that it’s all in the eyebrows and the tight, befuddled smile. “You were planning to kill me, Jedi?”

“I mean... yeah, kinda,” the knight says, shrugging. “Quick and clean option, that.”

This time, Master Jinn is the one that makes a disbelieving noise that both of the bitchy twenty-somethings ignore.

“You’re a Jedi,” du Crion points out, entirely pleasant.

“...yes,” the man says, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Technically.”

Du Crion is very much distracted by this. “Technically?”

The man wiggles a hand. “Arguments can be made. I certainly was trained as a Jedi and consider myself to be one. My knighting was according to protocol, and at the Temple. Technically.”

“...but?” Master Jinn prompts.

The knight smiles like he’s got something very spicy in his mouth and is unwilling to admit it’s too much for him. “But nothing! Don’t worry about it. There’s a fight to be had with a Sith wannabe who doesn’t realize he’s not going to measure up.”

“Arrogant,” du Crion accuses.

“No,” the knight immediately says. “You just don’t fight a galactic war without learning which opponents are actually going to kill you.”

Obi-Wan leans into Master Jinn’s side, his legs feeling a little too much like jelly. He whispers, “I have so many questions.”

“As do I, Padawan,” Master Jinn mutters back, and something in Obi-Wan’s heart twists. He’s a padawan! Master Jinn’s actually going to go through with it!

The fight does actually happen, at that point. The knight lights his saber and leaps forward, flashing through Djem So movements without a moment’s hesitation. For all the trash talk and boasting, the fight isn’t actually over very quickly. Du Crion is good, even without having had a chance to spar against a real person since he left the Order. Power flows around him, dark and heavy and sharp in ways that the Force usually isn’t, and the red saber snaps through the air with a speed Obi-Wan can barely track. Xanatos du Crion is, without question, danger incarnate in this moment.

The unknown knight is better.

There are attempts at banter, mostly by the stranger. Du Crion is too focused on the fight to bother responding. Obi-Wan just clings to Master Jinn, trying to stay awake and aware. It’s difficult, given the past few days, and even with help from the Force, he’s flagging.

The way the knight moves is... captivating, though.

(Quinlan’s going to laugh at the top of his lungs, later. Obi-Wan’s going to blush and stutter and bury his face in a pillow, and Bant’s going to pat his back like the amazing friend she is, and Quin’s just going to laugh, like an asshole.)

The fight doesn’t end cleanly. The knight cuts du Crion’s saber in half and, in the same movement, cuts the man’s hand off.

Obi-Wan’s seen too much blood in the last few days for it to shock him, but the smell is... unpleasant.

“I don’t suppose either of you carries Force-nullifying cuffs?” the knight asks, holding his saber to du Crion’s neck with an expression that is amused and satisfied in equal measure.

“No,” Master Jinn says. He seems... very bothered. Well, du Crion was his student once. Obi-Wan can’t imagine he’d be very calm if he had a student that went dark and started killing children. “Was cutting off his hand really necessary?”

“I feel like half my fights end with either someone dying or someone losing a limb,” the knight muses. “Sometimes that limb is my own, even!”

Obi-Wan isn’t sure if the man is manic or just trying to throw them off their rhythm. It probably doesn’t matter.

“Okay, I have Force-nullifying cuffs of my own,” the man says. “But these things are expensive as hell, and they weren’t paid for by the Order, so just giving them to you isn’t really on the table. That said... my ship kind of got shot down on the way here. If you could give me a ride off-planet--”

“Our ship was also shot down.”

The knight blinks at him, and then kicks du Crion in the hamstring. It’s not a very hard kick, but du Crion shoots him a look of offense that’s probably justified. Getting kicked when one is already down is never a great feeling.

“Stop shooting people,” the knight scolds.

Obi-Wan feels vaguely like he’s having a fever dream.

“Okay, new plan,” the man says. “What kind of ship did you come in?”

“KYL-3400 small transport,” Master Jinn says, with not a little hesitation. “Why?”

The knight grins. “I’m going to cannibalize it for parts.”

-------------------------

Jango has known Anakin Skywalker for six years. Many of those years have been spent being yanked into babysitting for the man. For reasons Jango doesn’t feel like examining, this will likely continue.

“You’re late,” he says, as the man in question stumbles out of a battered ship that looks only barely like the one that left three months ago. “I thought you said Bandomeer was a quick fix.”

“Ship got shot down, had to help some Jedi, ran into fucking Onaka on the way back,” Skywalker grouses. “I feel like shit. Where are my kids?”

“Buir says you have to go to medical.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. My kids, Jango.”

“They can visit you in medical.”

“And, what, Mereel’s gonna go there for a debrief?”

“Your debrief is going through me,” Jango says, and doesn’t let himself flinch when Skywalker makes a face. “He’ll check in later.”

“Yeah, no,” Skywalker says, taking a step forward and then swaying with a curse. “Listen, this actually does need to go to Mand’alor direct, not just the Alor-in-training--”

“Please don’t do that with my language,” Jango immediately says. “That’s not--no. ‘Alor-in-training’ isn’t a thing. Don’t do that.”

Skywalker turns on his heel with a frustrated snarl, and Jango’s eyes widen as the stupid tunics the man wears flare out.

“Is that a blaster wound?”

“No.”

“Yes it--for fuck’s sake, Skywalker!” Jango growls and just goes over to grab the taller man by the shoulders and march him to medical. “I’m calling your sister.”

“Don’t tell Shmi, she’s got enough to--”

“I’m calling your sister,” Jango snaps. “And you’re going to deal with it. Ka’ra, do you even think? Is there a brain in that head of yours?”

“I’ve been told my braincell is lonely.”

“I’m going to shove you in a trash compactor, dikut’la jetii,” Jango mutters. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“If I say yes, will you let me go deal with it on my own?”

Jango strangles his own scream and shoves Skywalker into the nearest examination room. “Fix him!”

The medic looks up, raises a brow, and turns to Skywalker. “What did you do?”

“What didn’t I do?” Skywalker shoots back, grinning like they’re sharing battle stories over a drink in a cantina.

The medic--Mirka’lu, he thinks--crosses her arms. “General.”

Oh man, the medics must be angry with him already if they’re already jumping titles like that.

“I’m just a knight--”

“General Skywalker.”

The man in question grimaces. “I maybe got shot during an altercation with some pirates.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And... I maybe--maybe--picked a fight with some Hutt enforcers.”

Jango’s going to wring his neck.

Right after he calls Shmi.

-------------------------

Komari does her level best to not shift nervously under the judgmental eyes of the man they’re pretty sure is the Mand’alor. Her master’s got the situation under control. She’s just there to observe. They’ve got an entire team--

“Is that your way of telling me that your Order did minimal research on the situation before coming to intervene, and the only reason you bothered to reach out is because one of my men, weeks ago, let you know that Death Watch is setting traps for both my people and yours?”

Komari feels the flare of annoyance from Master Dooku. She doesn’t react, but she can hear the tension when her Master speaks.

“I assure we would not have attacked on Galidraan unless attacked first, or if we’d found solid evidence of the actions we were informed of,” Master Dooku says, quiet and even. “All your messenger did was save us all a little time.”

Mereel smiles thinly. “Saved us all some lives, more like it.”

“Perhaps.”

“Ah, jetiise aren’t the only ones with Force-Sensitives,” the Mand’alor says. “I’ve more than a few under my command. Visions aren’t foolproof, I’m aware, but I’ll be damned if such a warning goes completely ignored.”

Master Dooku makes a low humming noise. “Be that as it may, I’m unsure of what it is that you’re expecting out of our... presence. We are not here to help you claim your presumed throne. We are only here to stop the killings we were told about.”

“I don’t need your help to reunite my people.” Mereel waves a hand, batting the mere suggestion away. “But I’d appreciate the help with taking out the terrorist group that’s actually going out and murdering the helpless, this planet’s farmers and doctors and children. Kyr’tsad isn’t just a thorn in my side, Master Jedi.”

“And what proof do I have that you aren’t just the same kind of monster as you claim they are?” Master Dooku challenges.

It’s a little brazen, considering how dicey these negotiations are. For all that Komari herself doesn’t wince, someone behind her outright hisses in dismay. She agrees with the sentiment.

Mereel just laughs at them. He catches the eye of one of the armored individuals along the wall, human or close to it, and nods to himself.

“Right,” the man says. “Well, we have our own Jedi. Would you like to meet him?”

Master Dooku is immobile, as if carved from stone. The rest of the group is... not.

“I suppose that would be acceptable,” Master Dooku says, and Komari feels the tension in him wind further through the training bond. There are a million questions to be had here. None of them can be answered without the supposed Jedi.

“Great,” the Mand’alor says. He leans back in his seat and turns to the door. With the press of a button, the door slides open. “Ben!”

A child darts into the room, stops, and bounces on their feet. Probably male, Komari thinks, and very anxious. The child’s eyes dart about the room, taking in every single Jedi in sight. When that gaze lands on Master Dooku, there’s a flash of recognition and... not hate, but distaste. Confused and distant dismay, maybe. The child turns back to Mereel.

“Mand’alor,” the child greets, still bouncing. “Am I needed?”

“Thought I told you this meeting was for grown-ups,” the Mand’alor says.

Ben shrugs. “I wanted to listen in.”

“That door is soundproofed and you know it.”

“So?”

The Mand’alor grins. “Do me a favor and go fetch your dad.”

“Buir’s still sleeping,” Ben says, grave as dirt. It’s a strange expression for such a small child. He can’t be older than eight, and Komari’s pretty sure even that’s a stretch. “Shmi’s gonna be mad if he has to wake up before the bacta’s done.”

“I just need him for negotiations,” Mereel assures the child.

“Aggressive negotiations with a lightsaber?” Ben asks, and Komari nearly chokes.

“No, just regular ones.”

Ben nods sharply, and then turns and runs out.

“That boy...” Mereel mutters, but it’s fond. “Anywa--”

“BUIR!” Ben’s voice echoes from the hall, faint but audible, along with some very loud banging on what is presumably a door. “DAD! WAKE UP, THE COUNT IS HERE!”

The Count? Komari wonders. Even Master Dooku seems surprised.

The question is clearly on more minds than just her own. Mereel raises a brow at Master Dooku and gestures vaguely. “Didn’t know any of you were nobility. You a Count, Master Jedi?”

“No,” Master Dooku says, and before the Mand’alor can press further, he adds, “but if I were to retire from the Order, the title would be mine to inherit. As I have no intentions of retiring, I am not and will not be a Count, but I assume that is what the child is referring to.”

“Ben,” the Mand’alor corrects. He seems pleased with the reasonable answer. “Ylliben Skywalker. I suggest you refer to him by name.”

“You have a fondness for him,” Master Dooku notes.

Mereel shrugs. “No more than any other child, objectively, but his father is one of my more effective allies, and he gets antsy about things. Saying ‘your child’ won’t be a problem, but ‘the child’ is... well.”

The smirk is a challenge that Komari doesn’t feel ready to meet. She’s glad it’s not hers to handle.

“Why do you ‘have’ a Jedi?” Master Dooku asks, pushing the conversation back to the point Komari’s sure he was initially aiming for.

“Found him in a snowstorm, brought him inside,” Mereel says, grinning. “And then he refused to leave, the shabuir. Troublesome man, like you wouldn’t believe, but useful.”

“Like a feral tooka,” someone behind Komari mutters. She feels a part of her soul die.

You can’t just say that in front of the Mand’alor! she screeches in the depths of her mind, despairing.

“Exactly,” Mereel agrees with a laugh. “Skywalker’s a feral tooka.”

Komari dies a little more.

“Talkin’ shit about me, Mereel?”

...oh no.

This one’s pretty.

The man is tall, dressed almost entirely in black, and looks like shit.

“You look like you got run over by a herd of bantha,” the Mand’alor notes.

“I got back less than a day ago,” Skywalker growls out. He leans against the wall behind the Mand’alor’s desk. He folds his arms. He glowers around the room. “The kriff is Count Dooku doing here?”

“Master Dooku,” the man in question says, a little pained. “As I informed Mand’alor Mereel, I may technically have claim to that title, but I am a Jedi. So long as I remain a Jedi, the title isn’t actually mine.”

Skywalker makes a face, and then shakes his head. “Fine. Whatever. Jaster, what the hell do you need from me?”

“Well, some manners would be nice.”

“I got shot and am putting myself in a position to get yelled at by baar’ur Mirka’lu for coming here when I’m supposed to be on bed rest,” Skywalker growls out. He kicks Mereel’s chair, glaring at the back of the man’s head. “You’re lucky I put on pants.”

Mereel seems unbothered by this statement or treatment.

Komari thinks her eyes may currently be the size of dinner plates.

“You’re the one from Bandomeer.”

Skywalker’s head snaps up to focus his gaze on Master Dooku. “Say what?”

“You’re the one my former Padawan encountered on Bandomeer,” Master Dooku says, something satisfied in his tone. “He said you refused to give a name, but the physical description does match.”

“Oh, lovely, Jinn’s been gossiping,” Skywalker mutters. “That’s just--”

“General Skywalker,” Mereel says, voice finally slipping to something more stern than amused. “If you could please focus.”

Skywalker rolls his eyes and mutters something about painkillers.

“Buir?”

Skywalker’s head tilts to the side, and he holds one arm out to the side. The kid from before--Ben--darts in to cling to the man’s side. A slightly taller Togruta follows in and ducks in under his other arm. Both children keep a wary gaze fixed on the same person, and their adult...

Every look from this man is a new challenge to Master Dooku.

“They’re yours?”

That is the exact question Komari was hoping her master wouldn’t ask.

“We’re in Mandalorian territory,” Skywalker says. “They’re Force-Sensitive orphans with an incredible amount of potential. If I didn’t claim them, someone else would have.”

It’s not an airtight justification--the man could have just sent them to the Temple--but the air around him is roiling with aggression. This man does not like Master Dooku, and is more than a shade protective of these--his--children. Komari shifts her weight and worries as the pregnant silence grows heavier.

“As you say,” Master Dooku allows, and some of the bowstring-tight tension in the room loosens, drains away like foul bathwater. “If I may... I was unaware you were a General, nor that Mandalore had a standing army large enough for such a position.”

“He’s not,” Mereel says. “Used to be, won’t tell me where. It’s not my business, or yours. Title’s a holdover from whatever war he was fighting before we got him.”

Komari is not the only person whose heart drops as Master Dooku says, “Qui-Gon claimed that the rogue knight he’d met on Bandomeer mentioned a galactic war against the Sith.”

Mereel blinks, and then turns his seat around to look at Skywalker. The other Mandalorians look at Skywalker. Every single Jedi also looks at Skywalker.

The Togruta child sticks her tongue out at Master Dooku.

“I did say that,” Skywalker says. “What of it?”

“You know, when I said I didn’t care what fight you were running that turned you into a soldier, I kind of assumed it was something on the level of, say, a system-wide civil war,” Mereel drawls. “Not galactic Force nonsense.”

Skywalker shrugs. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

“Because you’ll lie?”

“No, I’m just going to be really annoying about it,” Skywalker tells him. The Togruta giggles and shoves her face into his side. “Or, hell, I’ll let Ben do it. We both know he can talk circles around basically everyone in this room.”

“Skywalker.”

“Mereel.”

The two hold gazes for a moment that lasts just a little too long, and then Mereel breaks it off. “We’re talking about this later.”

“Of course, Mand’alor,” Skywalker says, with a grim sort of smile. “Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

Mereel doesn’t seem particularly impressed by that.

Komari wonders if anyone else remembers that Skywalker was supposed to be here to make negotiations easier.

-------------------------

Yan Dooku is having a Day.

He’s not entirely sure whom to blame for this mess. Perhaps Yoda, for suggesting he handle this mission. Perhaps the governor of Galidraan, who decided collaborating with terrorists for his own gain was a good idea. Perhaps Jaster Mereel, whose influence and power is enough that Yan needs to tread carefully. Perhaps Qui-Gon, for giving him just enough information about Skywalker to cause some drama.

Perhaps Skywalker for being a recalcitrant, ornery bastard who delights in Yan’s suffering.

(One of the Mandalorians calls him that to his face, and Skywalker informs the man that “my mother always told me I didn’t have a father,” and stares until the Mando stammers out an apology and turns on his heel.)

(The smirk on Skywalker’s face is certainly informative.)

“Hi.”

Yan looks up from the datapad he’s been using to try and punch out a report, for all that he can’t find the words he needs, and sees the Togruta youngling from Skywalker’s side hanging upside-down from a ventilation grate.

He blinks evenly at her. “Good afternoon. Is that your normal manner of traversing the building?”

“Yeah, when Jan-Jan isn’t yelling at me about it,” she says, and drops from the ceiling. Seemingly without paying attention, she directs the grate itself back into place with the Force, screws reattaching themselves with only the slightest whisper. She’s done this many, many times.

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is.”

“Jango Fett,” she clarifies. “Ad be Mand’alor.”

Child of the king.

He does remember that much from the briefing.

“I see,” Yan says, rather than try to tackle whatever the usage of such a nickname implies. “I’m afraid nobody’s seen fit to introduce you, youngling.”

“I’m Sokanth Skywalker, but most people call me Soka,” she says, with a bouncing, shallow bow. Full of energy, this one. “I’m eight.”

“The General is your father, then?”

“Mm-hm! He adopted me when I was almost two,” she says, and climbs up onto the bench. She wraps her arms around her knees and beams up. “Ben was still a baby, and we didn’t go get Shmi until a few months later when Skyguy could afford it.”

“Skyguy?” Yan prompts.

“My dad,” she explains, head tilting a little as she studies his reaction. “I... I’ve always called him Skyguy. He took care of me before he adopted me, for at least a year. He says I called him Skyguy when I first started talking, back then, and then he didn’t make me stop when he adopted me.”

“I see,” Yan says. “Does your father know you’re speaking with me?”

“Probably.”

“And would he approve?” Yan hints as heavily as he can. “He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“That’s because we’ve all seen what you could be,” she says. “But you’re not the Count yet, so it’s okay.”

Information. “Ah. Visions, then. That would explain some things.”

“Ben gets them the most,” she keeps talking. “But it’s not just that. It’s like... patterns. The Sith are going to target you, because they’re going to think you’re worth corrupting.”

“And you’ve seen enough Sith to know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Visions are not foolproof,” he says, trying to keep his tone gentle. He’s not used to interacting with children of this age, and this one comes with a father in the Mand’alor’s confidence, someone he can’t afford to irritate by making a daughter cry. “I have a friend who is very prone to visions, and some come true, some don’t, and others--”

“Are self-fulfilling,” Sokanth finishes for him. “I know that. But my dad’s actually fought Sith, y’know. The guy who cut off my dad’s arm used to be a Jedi Master, like you, and he was all fancy-schmancy and a history nerd for Sith stuff, and didn’t like the Council or their decisions very much. Like you.”

That’s... very personal.

“A surface-level similarity is not enough to make the claim that I am to become a Sith,” he says.

She blinks at him, eyes too large for a face that’s so near to human in bone-structure. It’s unnerving. “Whether or not you Fall is your choice, Count. All I can tell you is that you are the kind of person they look to groom... if only as a pawn.”

The words are too old for a girl her size.

“You speak as if you’ve faced the Sith yourself,” Yan says, well aware now that he needs to tread carefully, but... “You’re too young to go out into the field. I can’t imagine your father would allow a child like yourself to go up against someone that dangerous.”

She blinks those too large eyes, and tilts her head in the other direction, and then smiles. “You care. That’s good. Keep that compassion, Count.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I feel like you’re evading the question.”

Sokanth giggles. “Maybe. Buir doesn’t like us talking about it much. It makes him sad, ‘cuz he can’t help us not hurt, and a lot of it is really scary. It’s like... my memories are too big for my head. I don’t get a lot of visions, but I get a lot of dreams of things that happened that I’m not alive for. And buir does remember those things happening, so it’s true, and it happened, but I only... sort of remember it, and when I think about it too hard, it hurts my head. Or I get nightmares about it, and I don’t like those. Ben’s got it worse, though. He has more to fight.”

It’s a lot of information.

It’s confusing information.

It’s... possibly information that the General has asked her to feed him for reasons he can’t even begin to guess at.

“In this war your father fought,” Yan asks, “were you a soldier as well?”

“Commander,” she corrects, voice soft. “That’s what the dreams call me, before they start screaming.”

“How old are you really?” He asks, before he can quite stop himself.

She laughs, suddenly bright again. “I’m as old as I look. I’m eight. Just because the Force gives me memories I shouldn’t have doesn’t mean that my brain isn’t a kid. Sometimes Ben tries to act older than he is ‘cuz of the memories, y’know. Buir gets sad whenever he does that, ‘cuz he thinks we deserve to be kids before the galaxy goes to hell again.”

“He’s sure of such a thing?”

“It always does,” she says, with the air of someone who isn’t sure how their conversation partner could be quite that dense. Her voice takes on a sing-song cadence, like she’s telling a fable instead of a philosophy. “War always comes eventually. Not every sentient is selfish, but enough are, and they tend to be the ones that claw their way to the top. The rich and powerful will take and take and take, and then, when there’s nothing left, they will use their living stepping stones to tear each other apart. All we can do is be ready to end it as quickly as possible once it comes.”

Yan lets the claim sit for a long, quiet minute. “Did your father tell you that?”

“No,” she says. “Ben did.”

The six-year-old.

“He has a way with words,” Yan manages.

“Sometimes he uses his stuffed animals to host courtroom dramas,” she says. “He makes me look up the right laws so it can be procedurally accurate, ‘cuz he’s a nerd but so am I, and it makes Skyguy happy when he sees us playing like that instead of just doing saber forms and stuff.”

Yan has... no idea what to do with that. “I wouldn’t normally call courtroom dramas a normal children’s activity.”

“Yeah, but Ben’s a nerd,” she says, as if that’s all that needs to be said. Maybe, for her, it is. “And there’s only so much time I’m allowed to spend hunting.”

Right. Togruta.

“And what was your father doing at that age?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about that,” she says immediately. “Because it’s very private and he and Shmi get upset if we bring it up, ‘cuz of trauma and stuff.”

Shmi. The... sister, he thinks. People seem to be unclear on that. He’s heard a few refer to the teenager as just “one of Skywalker’s,” so that’s something to consider. She’s near-perfectly halfway between the children and the General, in terms of age, so it’s a little ambiguous where she fits.

That said, he’s been in a lot of places in his time as a Jedi Master. It’s taken him a little longer than it should have to realize, but he thinks he’s got at least part of the puzzle.

Skywalker’s a slave name. Tatooine, specifically.

It’s not confirmation, really, but...

Well. He thinks it’s better he doesn’t dig, on that subject.

“Hey,” Sokanth says, tugging at his sleeve. “Can I ask ya something?”

“I cannot promise an answer, but you may ask.”

“Can you spar with Skyguy? I wanna see who wins.”

[writer-and-artist27]

Scars and Pledges

When you’re studying for finals, feeling particularly stressed (not helped by numbers on a weight scale), writing comes out. 

I hope Arturia comes to my Chaldea one day because I do not have a SINGLE Saberface and I want her to be the first. For now, I’ll just keep writing.

Healing Over Time Chapter 5 Preview. Takes place immediately after Chapter 4. So far inspired by the official Garden of Avalon drama CD. @withanina has been the only person who has seen this so far, so here you go. Something new to share since I’ve been quiet. 

(@chiefladylightyay, I’m looking at you.) 

This is for everyone else wondering wtf is going on with me. ANGST-FLUFF. Because finals prep can do that.

Trigger warning also applies for implied past violence and flashback mentioned. 

------------------------------------------

“Tomoko. My Lady.” Saber started the conversation at an empty kitchen table, having sunk to one knee while keeping eye contact. She wasn’t even sitting on a chair, leaving me to look down at her. “You know that we are in a contract as Master and Servant.”

“Mm,” was the little noise that left my throat. My stomach was churning in that not-so-happy way and my face must’ve reflected it because Saber’s green eyes seemed sad somehow when looking up at me. “I… I wish it wasn’t such a formal thing, though.” I wanted to reach out to Saber, to hug her, to hold her hand and comfort her because this looming talk didn’t seem to be one either of us wanted. It was a reminder of how, as much as I wanted to be equals with her, this entire position made it feel like it was not that. “Because, Saber…”

My throat closed up on the words. I love you and you deserve better. 

Saber’s eyes softened. Did she hear my thoughts? “I know, Milady,” she said dutifully, taking one of my hands in hers. “And I am forever grateful for that. Still, I must apologize for not addressing this sooner. Your kindness has been something that I have been taking for granted, and in hindsight, I should not have done so.” She squeezed my hand tightly while bowing her head. “I should have informed you of the nuances that come with our being Contracted so that this morning would not have happened.”

Oh. “The dreams?” I said softly.

“The dreams,” Saber confirmed, her thumb rubbing my knuckles. “From my knowledge of magecraft and of past Holy Grail Wars, dreams are something Master and Servant share. The contents can be faded, at times erratic, but it always pertains to moments we have experienced in the past. From my own recollections, my previous Masters could see my memories as King, but…” her grip on my hand loosened. “This is the first time I could see memories of my Master.”

A sharp pang of “ow” rang through my abdomen. This morning, she had a hand on my stomach. She had looked at me like she had seen me die before. It all confirmed it. She saw my fall. She knew about October Tenth now. All I could do was open my mouth, trying to hide my quivering lip. “I-I’m sorry.”

Saber raised her head to look at me incredulously, green eyes wide. “Milady, why — why are you apologizing?”

I ducked away and broke the eye contact, feeling far too ashamed to look at her in the eye. “I saw things that were really personal to you and unintentionally exposed you to things from my past that I’m still trying to grasp myself. I’m really sorry. For not knowing, for showing you all that.” My cheek wasn’t bleeding, but I could faintly taste the aftertaste of iron. Memories or phantom pain, I didn’t know anymore. I just messed up, and for once, it felt like there was no fixing this. Like there was no going back. Like I was going to lose Saber, and that was terrifying. “I-I’m sorry, Art-san.”

“Milady,” Saber said softly and a hand was tilting my chin up. My vision was blurring a little, but there was no mistaking the emotion in her emerald green eyes. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I should be the one apologizing, simply because I did not tell you before it happened.” Her hand slowly traveled upwards to cup my cheek, her thumb wiping at the edges of my eyes. “There’s no need to cry.”

I bit my lip while trying to look into those emerald green eyes. I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t. “I still looked into something personal to you, Art-san. I violated your privacy.” 

I saw someone you haven’t talked to in what looks like a long time — I stepped into a memory that should’ve been yours alone. 

“But I did the same, Milady, and I did not warn you.” Her smile seemed mournful, regretful somehow as her shoulders slackened in her long-sleeved sweatshirt. “The fault is all mine.”

There is nothing to blame yourself for, echoed in my mind’s ear and a shiver traveled up my spine. Do not take this all on yourself, Master. 

How could I respond to all that? How could I?

“A-Are,” I shakily raised one of my hands to rest over hers still on my cheek, grasping it. “Are you okay then, Saber?”

Saber blinked slowly at me. “In a moment,” she acquiesced finally after a small pause, her thumb still pressing against the edges of my eyes. “When you have calmed down.”

This Knight. This selfless, ridiculous Knight. The first tear was already trailing down my cheek once I fell from my chair and into Saber’s arms. She gasped against the side of my head, her hand on my cheek having long gone away to support both of our weights against the carpet. The first sniffles had started leaving my nose and I did my best to hide in her shirt, inhaling as much oxygen as I could. “S-Saber… Saber, Saber, Saber…” 

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should be better, but it all hurts, my stomach hurts, just, just—  

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m scared of hurting you and I don’t know what to do.

“Oh,” she said breathily in realization, fingers already threading through my hair. I didn’t even realize I was broadcasting my thoughts until she tucked me into her arms, straightening her posture to properly accommodate for a hug. “Milady, Milady, it is alright. It is alright. You did not hurt me.” A soft kiss pressed against my head as the hug became tighter. Warmer. Safer. “It is alright. I am alright. You did not hurt me, Milady.”

I clung to her, the tears falling like rain against her shirt. If she minded, Saber didn’t seem to be up to voicing it, instead brushing through my long hair and humming gently. “Tomoko. It is alright. Calm your fears. You do not have to cry.”

B-But, but— 

“Y-You don’t mind?” I whimpered, feeling my tongue dry from the sobs beginning to echo in my throat. “I-I’m ruining your shirt, Art-san. I-I—” I’m being a burden. I should be better than this, I’m not being the best for you—

Two hands were gently pushing at my shoulders to break the hug and a sniff left my nose as soon as Art-san’s eyes were boring into mine. I shut my eyes almost immediately. She shouldn’t have been looking at me like that. She shouldn’t need to. “Tomoko.” Her forehead bumped mine. “It is alright. Please look at me.” 

“…”

Two firm hands were covering mine, preventing me from wiping at my face. “Please, Milady.”

I did my best to gulp down another sob before opening my eyes. My vision was still blurry, but there was no mistaking the pure relief in those emerald eyes as Saber smiled. “My lady,” she breathed in relief and I tried not to flinch once she leaned over to press a kiss to my forehead. “You are alright. And I am still here, unhurt and by your side. I am not leaving.”

Those were words I had heard time and time again. From Kei, from Obi, from Ricchan, Kashi, Papa, Mama — everyone. And yet again, darkness curled in my veins. It was such a sweet saying, why was I— 

“Are…” my voice became quiet, shy as I did my best to not look at her. “Are you sure?” I had no clue where I was going with this. But life was never fair. Bad things just happened and sometimes, there was no way to fix them. “I’m… I’m not as great of a Master as your previous ones may have been, Art-san. I’m not perfect.” 

I don’t know if I’m good enough for you. I don’t know if I ever will be. 

I had no clue if I was anywhere close to fixing myself, even after October Tenth was over. Even after Kei and the others came back from Kannabi alive. 

I was still scarred. I was still broken.

Even after Hisako had disappeared years ago, a part of me was still that scared little girl, missing her Nobody and wondering whether everyone would leave if she messed up again.

And no matter what I did, no matter how much Kei fought, there would always be someone who would light the fuse to war because they wanted something more from the world. 

How could I—

------------------------------------------

In all of her days as King and Heroic Spirit, Arturia Pendragon was familiar with the concept of tears. Slowly becoming human again during her time with Shirou and Rin in Fuyuki was proof of that, because seeing them flee after Caster had taken control pained her beyond anything else.

Saber thought that she was familiar with pain.

But the world was proving her wrong yet again with her new Master currently sobbing in-between her arms. Even after a tight hug and muttered reassurances into that rosemary-scented hair, Tomoko still looked so small when not meeting her gaze, the occasional jolt of her shoulders through her crumpled white nightgown the only proof Saber had that she was listening. Her cheeks were pink for the completely wrong reasons, not helped with the glistening tear trails on her face. 

Even with all her experiences, Saber had no idea of how to proceed. After all, she had failed in informing her lady of the concept of shared dreams and even if she was shocked at seeing Tomoko fall in the past, the simple fact that Tomoko knew she saw the event and was then reduced to this state — it all accounted for a situation that Saber wished she could have avoided sooner. 

A Servant should have known better.

A Knight should have fought harder so that these kinds of moments would not have occurred. 

Arturia once took up the Sword of Selection in the hopes of bringing Britain prosperity. She had done her best as King, in spite of the Battle at Camlann, but now, as a mere Servant and ally of this civilian girl, being unable to stop her tears, where did that leave her?

“A-Are…” Tomoko was finally speaking and Arturia leaned in desperately to hear. “Are you sure? I’m… I’m not as great of a Master as your previous ones may have been, Art-san. I’m not perfect.” 

Her heart could have broken from those words alone, but what made something truly snap was the single thought echoing in Arturia’s head.

I don’t know if I’m good enough for you. I don’t know if I ever will be. 

This girl. This selfless, foolish girl. There was no need for such worries. And yet she worried anyways.

Was this how the King of Conquerors felt when looking at Arturia years ago?

Tomoko could have resembled Shirou in how hopeless she sounded. 

Saber inhaled slowly before channeling her mana. The familiar feeling of her armor overtaking her clothes was comforting and the winds that came with it were enough to jolt her lady out of whatever dark stupor had taken her. Those blue eyes were wide in her direction, still filled with tears and red-rimmed, but they were focused on Saber and Saber alone, so she could not afford to lose this chance. 

“Master. No, Tomoko.” Saber gently pulled Tomoko to her feet before sinking to one knee in front of her. Tomoko was yelping in what sounded like surprised embarrassment, but quieted once Excalibur had shown itself in Saber’s right hand. Arturia merely rested her Gift from the Lady of the Lake in front of her Master too. 

Nothing could truly match the person in front of her. Nothing, and no one.

“A-Arturia-san?” 

It was a quiet voice, but it was still the voice of a lady that could have been greater than Guinevere. Kinder than Irisviel. 

How many people out there truly cared for others like Tomoko did? 

How many people in the world truly doubted themselves over simply “not being enough” for a Servant? 

How many people treated a Servant like they were human again?

Arturia simply kneeled. 

Tomoko was wrong in how she didn’t deserve Arturia. 

Arturia felt that she did not deserve Tomoko. 

“Please, Milady, believe this. On my honor as the King of Knights, the leader of the Round Table, the former King Arthur, I, Arturia Pendragon,” she took a breath, “I vow to be your sword. I pledge to stay by your side, to use this Holy Sword of Excalibur to protect you.” She raised her head while taking one of her Lady’s shaking hands in hers, gripping it tightly through her armor. 

Tomoko’s kindness could not be taken for granted, but that did not mean leaving it to fade into darkness.

Arturia had seen far too much darkness, far too much corruption in her past lives to let such virtue disappear again. Especially after Lancelot.

Kiritsugu may have had a point with his ideals, but he would have forgotten a girl like the one standing in front of Arturia right now. It was strange to think about him, but knowing he had sacrificed Irisviel for a hopeless wish made Arturia all the more determined when looking upwards into those blue eyes. 

As a lone Knight, she had someone to protect again. 

Arturia had someone to remind her she was human again.

“S-Saber…” Tomoko’s blue eyes merely filled with more of those thick, pearly tears. If Arturia did not know any better, she could have resembled Guinevere in her final moments. Thankfully, this was different. “You… Y-You can’t just say—” a sound that was caught between a sob and a laugh left her throat. “Art-san…”

Arturia slowly shook her head, silencing whatever protest that was on her lady’s lips. 

Perhaps this was too soon. Perhaps this was a hasty, a foolish decision. It could turn out to be a mistake paralleling her time in the Fourth Holy Grail War. But it felt just. It felt correct. It was a decision Arturia Pendragon could call her own and not one decided by fate or Merlin’s old foretellings. 

It felt like the right decision. 

Perhaps Irisviel would have loved to see this moment. 

Perhaps this was how Lancelot felt when first making love to Guinevere in secrecy. It was not the same kind of love, but there was no mistaking the warmth in Arturia’s chest reverberating from this girl’s mere presence. 

Like Shirou in some ways, other angles, not so much. Like Sakura, maybe, but more outspoken. Like Rin in their shared forwardness, but different.

Tomoko was her own person and there was no mistaking those blue eyes still trained on her.

Arturia was not sure of her exact feelings, but the words alone were genuine enough.

“I can say this and I will, Tomoko.” There was no going back. Arturia did not want to lose here. “It is because of your unrelenting kindness that I vow to care for you. I vow to love you, now and forevermore. For as long as you will have me, I will be by your side. I promise you.” Saber smiled before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the soft shaking fingers in her grip. “My clumsy, insecure, lovely Lady.” 

It was the least she could do to keep that light shining. Mistakes and cracks and all. 

Kei was right. Tomoko was sensitive, insecure. Perhaps fragile too, if not for that dream last night. But it was all imperfections that made her so human, and to see such pure emotional honesty was something Arturia unknowingly longed for after so many years. 

Perhaps, if Tomoko was in Camelot so long ago, maybe—  

Could Mordred have not rebelled in the face of such purity? 

There were so many what-ifs. 

Suddenly, there was a large sniffle and finally, finally, Arturia could see a smile on her Lady’s face. Tomoko was laughing — still shaking, but laughing, finally returning the grip Arturia had on her hand. It was so human to see her like that and in spite of how sudden the gesture was, Arturia could not help but feel relieved. “Y-You, you, you silly Knight,” she chuckled, falling to her knees to reach Arturia’s height before throwing her arms around her neck. Arturia blinked but did not hesitate to hug back, gently resting her armored gauntlets against that tangled long mane of black hair. “You shouldn’t have to dedicate your life to me—! Y-You should spend your life for yourself… Not for meeeeee…”

Oh.

Arturia chuckled too, resting her nose against her lady’s neck. Rosemary again. “It was my decision to say all that, Milady. And it is my decision to embrace you like this, to stay. If it means I am foolish and naive, so be it. A King can be selfish as well. Please remember that.” 

Something wet was starting to build up against Arturia’s shoulder, soaking her dress past the armor. The chest pressing against her breastplate was warm and real, and Tomoko was nodding jerkily. “D-Dork,” she cried, sniffling. “I-I just can’t win against you…”

What was there to win? Arturia Pendragon could not lose. 

“Tis was my intent, Milady,” Arturia smiled while tightening the embrace. “I suppose I should take your response as an affirmative?”

There’s no way I’m okay with you leaving after saying all that! 

Ah.

Instead of voicing the thought that just rang through Arturia’s mind, there was another, weaker, chuckle. “Aye… aye… D-Dork.” That phrase again. Said through a shaky voice, all the more hesitant and weak. Yet Tomoko pulled back and the sheer relief and love in her gaze pointed at Arturia alone was enough. “I-I’ll have to make you a large feast for breakfast now, Art-san. Knights need to eat too. A-And, let’s just talk about the dreams and the contract after that, okay? A-And no offense intended, but no more vows like that. I appreciate it a lot, but I don’t want to keep c-crying on you forever. Mama and Papa will wake up soon and I don’t want to be a baby forever.” 

This girl. Arturia merely chuckled and leaned in to press another kiss to Tomoko’s forehead. She spluttered loudly in surprised protest, but it was the desired reaction. Teasing was not beyond either of them. So, it was an improvement. 

Praise could not be brushed off so lightly, so Arturia whispered the words against her lady’s hair.

“You have never been a ‘baby’ in my eyes, Tomoko. You are already a proper Lady no one can ignore.”

[pyropsychiccollector]

Fate Zero: Part Four

            Risei Kotomine stood calm and composed as he went to answer the door. Though it wasn’t a very big congregation that he led, the church still received visitors on occasion. He knew that it wasn’t any of his parishioners at the door, however… because it was far too early in the morning.

            Risei took a composed breath before opening the door – unsurprised to see his son on the other side, looking as impassive as ever.

            “We have a problem.” Kirei blandly reported.

            Soon enough, they were in the basement as Kirei passed on Assassin’s recent discovery. The Servant himself was outside the church and patrolling the perimeter, ensuring this meeting was an ironclad secret. Risei appeared more troubled as Kirei went on, and when he’d finished speaking, there was only one solution the elderly man could think of.

            “Caster has just become the very top priority… If he and his Master have no intention of respecting the rules that the Holy Grail War has established for hundreds of years, then we will postpone the war until they are eliminated. Minor rule changes fall under my purview – we’ll have all of the Masters work together to defeat Caster.”

            Kirei raised an eyebrow at the notion of Masters collaborating.

            “Will we really have to go to such lengths? All Assassin need do is get a clear shot, and he can take out Caster… We have yet to discover their main base of operations, but they poke their head out of the rabbit hole often enough that executing them would be a trifling matter…”

            Risei shook his head and fixed his son with a stern glance.

            “You have found and identified Caster, but this specific Servant will be too difficult to handle on your own. Neinhart was once a member of the Spriggan 12, before he attempted a coup and was imprisoned for life. Cobra is formidable, but the Spriggan 12 were personally picked and trained by the Black Wizard, Zeref himself. We cannot assume an attempted assassination will survive first contact. Keep an eye out for him in the meantime, but do not engage until we at least get Tokiomi in on the hunt as well. Hades will be of immense help to you and Cobra.”

            Kirei’s eyes fell as his expression remained blank.

            “… Understood…”

            ~*~

            Dust blew through the air amongst the ruins as a gust of wind passed through. The dark-haired man made clinking noises with his metal boots as he walked past so much rubble, keeping an eye out. The sky, the clouds tinged brown, appeared ghastly and filthy, indicating the kind of battle that had raged in this area very recently; it really wasn’t pleasant to linger here, but the dark-haired man couldn’t just leave. At last, he spotted a solitary living figure amongst the corpses and ruins – hunched over as he sat on a large piece of wall. The other man’s face was obscured by his intertwined hands as he appeared deep in thought, but Gajeel would recognize that shock of pink hair anywhere.

            “Oi, Flamebrain! What’re ya doin’? Let’s go home!” He called out exasperatedly.

            The pink-haired man, wrapped in a tattered gray cloak, his arms covered thoroughly in wrappings, didn’t answer for several moments, but when he did, Gajeel felt incredibly uneasy.

            “Go back, Gajeel. I’m not done.”

            Gajeel’s face scrunched up in confusion and bewilderment.

            “What are you talkin’ about? You annihilated this fortress, Natsu! There’s nobody left!”

            “There are. They just have different bases.” Natsu grunted, his eyes narrowing into a sharp glare as he peeked over his hands at Gajeel. “I’m not done until they’re all dead. Until I wrap my hands around the throats of every last one of those bastards… Until their bones are reduced to ash…!”

            Gajeel’s eyes softened, the longer he stared at Natsu. He couldn’t help feeling anything but pity for his Guildmate. Natsu couldn’t be blamed for turning out like this; no matter how murderous he had become, it was all completely natural. Hell, if Levy had…

            Gajeel shook his head as he couldn’t even finish that nightmarish thought.

            “Natsu. We can’t just let ya run off half-cocked! If I let you go, Gray ‘n Mira are gonna have my head on a pike…!” He growled as Natsu stood up stubbornly, turning his back to the Iron Dragon Slayer. “Just think about what you’re doin’! You can’t stoop to their level! Come back with me!”

            “I’m already worse than them, Gajeel… It’s too late. I’m gonna finish what I started, and I’m gonna protect you all. Don’t follow me.” Natsu coldly bit out.

            Gajeel gnashed his teeth as he took a step towards Natsu’s retreating back.

            “Salamander…!”

            “Tell Happy to stay with Lisanna, and not to come after me.” Natsu droned in an equally cold tone. He spared no more words even as Gajeel continued to call out to him.

            Gajeel would never see him again.

            ~*~

            Waver awoke with a desperate gasp, panting soon after he sat up in bed and covered in sweat. He looked around his darkened bedroom, and found there to be no threats or anything amiss. As he got his breathing under control, he stared down at his blanket-covered legs.

            “Was… Was that a vision?” Waver muttered to himself. In all his research on the Holy Grail War, the topic of visions had never come up… But that had definitely felt so real. It had to have been Gajeel’s memories of when he was alive. “But… how…?”

            The blanket bunched together in Waver’s clenched fists as he tried to think about it logically. The only thing that came to mind… was that their connection as Master and Servant must have allowed him to see a glimpse into Gajeel’s past. But even so, the ‘how’ wasn’t really important… What concerned Waver was the contents of that memory. The Fairy Tail Guild was one of the most legendary organizations of mages in the world, and many of their exploits had been recorded exhaustively. While Waver had only been able to get the bare-bones summary of their history while on the flight to Japan, nothing that was recorded seemed all that… dark.

            But that memory had definitely been real. The wretched sky, the soot-filled air, that carnage and those ruins, and that tense standoff with Berserker… Or rather, Natsu Dragneel, as he’d been known in life. That hadn’t been just any old dream conjured by his imagination. And Gajeel had felt so pained and filled with regret about letting Natsu go like that… Waver didn’t really understand why Gajeel hadn’t gone after him; Rider wasn’t the type to hesitate, but in that one instance he had. And he apparently regretted it for the rest of his life.

            “Where am I gonna find out more about Fairy Tail’s history, though…? It’s not like I can just walk up to Rider and demand he tell me. And I don’t want to waste a Command Seal and get him mad at me…” Waver sighed as he ran a hand through his hair agitatedly before flopping back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with mild frustration. “… Guess I’ll think on it tomorrow.”

            Up on the roof of the Mackenzie household, Gajeel sat cross-legged. A light breeze blew his hair around a little, and the Iron Dragon Slayer’s eyes were fixed on the nightlife scene of Fuyuki. Unconsciously, he clenched his fists tightly.

            ~*~

            Gray leaned back against the wall and sighed raggedly as he crossed his arms, staring up at the ceiling. Despite swearing fealty to Kayneth, the man had more than a few harsh words to say about not slaying Erza on the spot… Not that Gray particularly cared what his Master thought about that “failure”. He was gonna win the Grail for Kayneth – that wasn’t about to change. But no matter how loyal he was to his new Master, he wasn’t so devoid of honor that he’d strike Erza down when she was distracted by Flamebrain of all people…

            The Ice Mage clenched his teeth and clutched his arm tighter as his thoughts drifted there…

            “Natsu…” Gray growled and swore under his breath. Before he could continue that line of thought, a feminine giggle gathered all his attention.

            “Kayneth’s words still echoing in your ears? You should have just let me tear into him. It’s not like he’s above criticism~…” The woman slowly strode up to Gray, hands clasped behind her back. The Ice Mage merely rolled his eyes in annoyance.

            “Criticism and beating a dead horse are two completely different things, Sola-Ui… I wasn’t about to let you humiliate him, too. He got enough of that from Berserker and Rider…” Subconsciously, his grip around his forearm tightened again. Sola-Ui tilted her head curiously.

            “You know he wasn’t exactly right for beating your ‘failure’ like a dead horse? I mean, it’s not like there will never be another chance to defeat Saber. Kayneth’s just obsessed because Sabers tend to be the strongest Servants…” Sola-Ul traced a lazy semicircle around Lancer, a cocky grin tugging at her lips. “It’s too bad in this particular War, Lancer rises above all others, eh?”

            Gray scoffed, arms dropping to his sides as he narrowed his eyes at her.

            “Flattery will get you nowhere. I know my own limits. Every single Servant in this War could take me on… I’m not even gonna rule out Assassin or Caster, who I haven’t seen yet.” He craned his head to the side as his fists stayed clenched at his sides. “If I have my way, three of ‘em are gonna be my responsibility. Counting Erza.”

            Sola-Ui frowned, and her brow furrowed.

            “Three? Not six?”

            “I dunno who Caster and Assassin are yet, like I said. And Gajeel… I wouldn’t care if someone else took him out.” He curled his fists hard enough that even Sola-Ui could hear them. “Hades, though… And Erza and Flamebrain… I have to settle things with them personally. Hades goes without saying. Erza, I would have taken her on personally even without Kayneth’s obsession… And Natsu…”

            Gray trailed off there, unwilling to say another word about Natsu. Sola-Ui’s frown deepened.

            “History says you and Natsu butted heads with every chance you received… Is it just a fire and ice thing?”

            The Ice Mage snorted derisively.

            “If it was something as cliché as that, I wouldn’t even bother making it personal.” He began to walk away from Sola-Ui, despite her protests. “Don’t think about it too much. It’s between me and him. I know exactly why he’s in this thing, and I’m gonna stop him… at any cost…”

            As he shimmered away into his spirit form, Sola-Ui scowled in frustration, leaving their conversation at that. Even in spirit form, Gray felt like rolling his eyes.

            ‘It’s like she’s an unholy combination of Juvia and Ultear… Ugh. I don’t wanna even imagine that.’

            ~*~

            Kiritsugu frowned as he pored over the maps and photos sprawled across the table. He knew that the Grail War was just starting, but there were far too many unknown variables – and that wasn’t even counting the Noble Phantasms, which they hadn’t seen any of, yet.

            “We barely even know where anyone is holed up…” The Magus Killer muttered. “Tokiomi hasn’t left Tohsaka Manor even once. Kayneth has turned a hotel into his personal workshop… Kirei Kotomine, Kariya Matou, and Waver Velvet are constantly on the move… And Caster… he and his Master must have some base of operations, but finding it isn’t going to be easy.”

            Erza sighed breezily as she entered the room, clad in a suit and dress pants combo that Irisveil had picked out for her.

            “Natsu and Rider will come to us when they’re ready. Dragon Slayers have noses like no other.”

            Kiritsugu narrowed his eyes at the small sign of fondness in her tone. He stared up at the redhead sternly.

            “Even if they were your Guildmates in life, we still have to take them down.”

            Erza averted her eyes from Kiritsugu’s, but the Magus Killer could tell she wasn’t having doubts.

            “You don’t need to remind me… I am well aware of the nature of this war.” She looked back into his eyes with just as much steel behind them. “It is you who seems to need reminding about your role… As my Master, you should not go around behind my back to assassinate enemy Masters. By doing so, you’re not only endangering your own life, but also dishonoring me and the other Servants who are fighting this war for your sake as well as theirs.”

            Kiritsugu rolled his eyes and snorted at the mere notion of ‘honor’.

            “Honor? There’s nothing more facetious in this world. You’re not going to win a war with petty ideals like ‘honor’. Victory comes to those who will do everything in their power to claim it… You can’t afford to hesitate even for a second, because that one second is all the time the enemy will need to cut you down for their own selfish gains. Wars aren’t won on platitudes.”

            Erza’s nostrils flared as she glared Kiritsugu down.

            ���I know how wars are fought…! And I have won my fair share without compromising my ideals!”

            Kiritsugu placed a hand on his hip casually, not growing annoyed by Erza’s tone in the least.

            “Perhaps you did… But did all your Guildmates, I wonder?” He arched his eyebrow critically as her eyes widened, shocked he’d bring them up. “Maybe before the war with Tartaros, your Guild was a collection of saints, never killing their opponents. But like it or not, you all wiped out the Guild of Tartaros, and your very own rival, Mirajane Strauss, harvested their souls to fuel her own power. Lancer, Gray Fullbuster, became a Demon Slayer after inheriting his father’s will. Furthermore, in your war with Alvarez, Laxus Dreyar and Rider killed two Spriggan Shields. And let’s not forget the fearsome Acnologia… all of your beloved Dragon Slayers annihilated him.”

            Kiritsugu took his hand off his hip and deepened his frown.

            “That doesn’t even cover all the legends that came after Alvarez… Especially after your death. Though… frankly, it’s probably for the best that you don’t seem to have that knowledge. You might look at some of your fellow ‘Heroic Spirits’ very differently if you did.”

            Erza’s hands curled into fists. The more Kiritsugu lectured her, the more she found herself absolutely seething.

            “You speak as one from the present day, who never knew the tribulations we had to go through… The hardships, the heartache… I don’t claim that we were perfect. But we never abandoned our loyalty. Our bond. We were all that we had. And that bond… prevented us from succumbing to the darkness, even in our own hearts.”

            Kiritsugu took out a lighter from his pocket and lit up a cigarette. He puffed smoke calmly, much to Erza’s irritation.

            “… And what do you suppose happened when you lose ‘all that you had’? I think the two you were closest to in life can answer that… And luckily for you, they’re both participating in this war so you can ask them yourself.” Kiritsugu stared at Erza out of the corner of his eye as he began to move past her. “Put away your pride. If you want to show your friends mercy, win this war for them. I guarantee your own desire, your own wish… will be far kinder than theirs.”

            Having spoken his peace, Kiritsugu strolled out of the room, leaving the scarlet knight with much to think about.  

            ~*~

            Aoi was startled when the doorbell rang. Rin wasn’t due back from school for a few hours yet, and hardly anyone stopped by in the middle of the day like this. When she opened the front door, she half-expected Tokiomi or some messenger of his… But what she saw was even more shocking than that.

            “Sakura…?!” Aoi gasped, hands flying to her mouth impulsively. She appeared a bit malnourished… But that was definitely Sakura, standing there politely and offering a pleasant beam.

            “Mom…!” She couldn’t help releasing a small laugh as she threw her arms out as she tackled Aoi with an affectionate hug.

            Aoi didn’t even have to think twice. She held her formerly estranged daughter tightly and cried. Even if she knew it couldn’t last… Even if this was some cruel trick by the Matou Clan Head, Aoi would treasure this moment forever. Because she never thought she’d be allowed to hold Sakura in her arms ever again.

            It felt like an eternity before she registered the second figure standing at the front door. He’d previously let Sakura have this tender moment with her mother before he couldn’t help himself and step into view to get a good look at the reunion. A warm smile tugged at his lips.

            “Sakura really missed you, Aoi… I would’ve been a monster to keep her from you.”

            “Kariya…” Aoi whispered hoarsely, wiping at her tear-filled eyes confusedly. And despite how happy she felt in this moment, she couldn’t help but ask the question that plagued her mind. “Why have you brought Sakura here…? You know… what we did…”

            Despite how sad Aoi sounded, Sakura looked up at her mother calmly and without a hint of anger.

            “Mother… It’s okay! You and father… only wanted the best for me…” Sakura couldn’t help smiling bittersweetly. “It was really scary living with the Matou’s, but Uncle Kariya and Mister Natsu saved me! And Uncle Kariya says we’ll be able to live together as a family again!”

            Aoi looked awestruck as she processed her daughter’s words. She stared up at Kariya in disbelief, and he offered a hearty grin in return.

            “It’s true. Sakura’s free, Aoi. I… I joined the Holy Grail War because Zouken had promised me that if I returned victorious with the Grail, he would free Sakura! But my Servant, Natsu… he annihilated Zouken. He purged my and Sakura’s bodies of that old vampire’s worms, and he secured Sakura’s future! She will never again be violated by the Matou’s twisted Magic… If she still wants to become a Mage, I won’t stop her. But she won’t have to do a single thing for the Matou’s!”

            As Kariya’s words sank in, Aoi’s eyes softened, and she gently smiled, reinforcing her hug with Sakura.

            “Kariya… thank you.” She whispered softly. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you…”

            Kariya shook his head, a slightly amused grin tugging at his lips.

            “Just take care of Sakura, at least until this War is over. If Tokiomi still insists on sending her away… I’ll take her so that she won’t have to go through any more horrors with different Mage families. And then… we can play in that park, like we used to… in better days…”

            Aoi’s eyes fell to Sakura as she petted the top of Sakura’s head.

            “Kariya… I’d… I’d like that…” Aoi hesitated in showing her agreement. She looked up at him again, but this time with concern. “You’re still going to participate in that War?”

            Kariya’s eyes fell as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

            “… I have to.”

            Aoi hugged Sakura tighter as she looked up at Kariya with some distress in her eyes.

            “Kariya, you’ve saved Sakura! You don’t need to risk your life anymore…!”

            Surprisingly, it wasn’t Kariya that spoke, but Sakura.

            “Mister Natsu’s hurting…” Sakura didn’t pause even as Aoi leaned back to look her in the eyes. “Uncle Kariya promised he’d help Mister Natsu so that the pain would go away…”

            Kariya made a small, bitter snort of amusement.

            “It’s my fault for listening to Zouken… I brought Natsu into this world under a madness enchantment. I can’t just send him back after all he’s done for us. He deserves peace, too.”

            “Kariya…” Aoi whispered softly.

            The pale-haired young man gave a reassuring grin.

            “I promise. Once I’ve helped Natsu win the Grail, I’ll be back! And I’ll even make sure Tokiomi makes it home, too! I’ll do it for you, Aoi. And for Sakura and Rin.” Kariya turned on his heel and stepped away from the front door, throwing his hood up over his head again. He waved his hand lazily as he departed.

            Aoi and Sakura both watched his retreating back, feeling anxious about Kariya’s decision. Sakura seemed to want to go with him, but Aoi kept her close. The least she could do was be the mother she was supposed to be for Sakura.

            … But that didn’t make her feel any better, just letting Kariya go like that. He was doing so much for them… and all she could do was watch him march off to war. If he did make it back, as he promised… she would let him adopt Sakura.

            It was the least she could do for her longtime friend.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Fate/Zero 1 - 25 (FINAL)

Most of these notes stayed intact during Fate/Stay Winter posts, but I’m releasing them in an unedited version here (aside from the dotpoints and read more, of course).

Fate/Zero 1

For some reason, I have it recorded that I’ve watched F/Z ep. 1, but I don’t remember it!  I only remember Saber fighting someone…that’s why I have notes for this ep too.

Ewwwwwww…what’s that in the Macedonian box…?

Oh! Heaven’s Feel is the name of one of the movies that came out this year or last.

LOL, the grandparents of Waver literally refer to him as “Waver”. I thought it was a title. Is it really his name???

I’m very good at making connections between seemingly disconnected things using only the things I know. I predict Kariya’s in for a verrrrrrrry bad time and will probably die in this Grail War, if not go bananas. I already know Rin, Ilya (the Einzbern child) and Sakura are already part of the Fate/ canon, so they’re probably going to fight in a Grail War as well.

Ahhhhhhh! B*stard Archer (that is, Gilgamesh)! He’s hereeeeeeeee!

What’s that counter on the ep title card…? Is it the time until the Grail War…?

Fate/Zero 2

I’ve seen enough spoilers being bandied about that I already know Rider is Alexander the Great.

Like, seriously, why do we call the dude “Waver Velvet”? What’s his real name?

Kiritsugu acts as Ilya’s dad, but…I’m pretty sure he isn’t her dad. Kiritsugu’s surname is Emiya, right? He’s Shirou’s dad, as far as I know. Then again, I only know what I know from being around Fate/ fans for so long.

LOL, there are far too many dragons in this name – Ryuunosuke Uryuu.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Is this Giant B*stard Archer???? Is this Giant B*stard Archer??? (i.e. Gilgamesh) Oooooooooh! No wonder people like Gilgamesh, even though they call him a giant loveable b*stard.

Fate/Zero 3

Thy don’t call Rider that for nothin’, eh?

I wonder how Saber managed to get a passport…? She’d need one, eh?

Oh…CGI car…it’s burning my eyesssssssss! (although I do believe Troyca didn’t do any better with El-Melloi’s Case Files)

“Hotel in Fuyuki” – They couldn’t be any more explicit with this stuff, could they…?

“…Highness.” – I can see why Saber is so popular with the Fate/ fans now.

Huh? I seem to remember the battle that comes next! Damn *bleep* <- (censored name of anime club manager responsible for the anime marathon that caused me to go from the beginning of F/Z in the first place)! I definitely remember Saber fighting Lancer.

Fate/Zero 4

(sorry, seen this one! That’s where the confusion was! So no notes here!)

Fate/Zero 5

Berserker looks like Goblin Slayer covered in smoke…LOL.

…Well, they don’t call that guy Berserker for nothin’ either.

Rider would make a great Santa Claus, LOL.

Fate/Zero 6

Isn’t there a Joan of Arc in the Netflix Fate/ (Apocrypha)?

Dang, that Kayneth is an evil b*stard, alright!

Kirei is basically Wolverine…?

No wonder you never hear about Caster when people talk about Fate/…he’s neither hot nor a waifu…so nobody gives a s*** about him.

Fate/Zero 7

Is that a Gantz?

Wait, y’mean Rider is motivated…by pants? *spits* Hahahaha…

You can see Ufotable’s much-praised CGI at work here, too.

I can definitely see why Ufotable was chosen for Katsugeki and why they chose Izuminokami for their protag.

Had to google Jeanne to remember what she looks like in this universe, but yeah…she does look like Saber.

For some reason, I had a fleeting thought that Lancer would be the one to be on the mountain alongside Saber…I was right.

So basically, the entire Fate/ series is this: who would win? A mage or an assassin? (Or something like this.)

Fate/Zero 8

I still think Kirei is basically Wolverine.

Kiritsugu = “to cut and tie”.Update: It’s “to tie” and “to inherit”, apparently.

F/Z 9

I wonder…just what is Lancer’s motivation for the Grail? Surely, Servants have their own motives…

I literally covered my eyes when Sola-Ui bent Kayneth’s finger back…it was almost as bad as seeing Nozomi get tortured (Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka)…*gulp*

“Not well” is an understatement, Sola-Ui.

I had to google how old Waver was in this Grail War…he’s 19, apparently, so right in my strike zone right here, so to speak~.

Beleaguered Waver is what you cool kids would call the 2020 Mood…and yes, I’m watching this on the 1st of January, 2020 (but you’re reading this after I put it up later in the month), so I’m keeping the comment.

“What kind of moron would go busting in?” – *facepalm* It seems Rider would.

What the heck is Rider riding his chariot over on the floor, anyway? What’s up with these sewer creatures ? They’ve got tentacles…!

F/Z 10

Rin reminds me of Asuka (NGE)…*gulp* That can only mean bad things for her.

Zenjo? I’ll make a note of that name.

That one glowing sign says “Fuyuki Station”.

Rin no Bouken = Rin’s Adventure. I don’t see why the subbers included “Big” in there, tbh.

F/Z 11

Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling Saber’s going to get very, very drunk…?

Gee whiz, the great b*stard is a narcissist…

Well, sometimes I forget I had “Archer = Gilgamesh” spoilt for me ages ago…probably because he’s all over Babylonia, not to mention he seems to be one of the more popular characters precisely because he is the great b*stard.

“I wish for my homeland’s salvation.” – An interesting thing to say, considering Brexit.

What the f*** is a Gordius…oh, okay. So that’s Rider’s chariot.

How many Assassins are there??? I thought there was just the one, but there were 4 last time.

This discussion is interesting…no wonder Saber got mistaken for Joan of Arc back in the day.

Welp, Assassins gotta assassinate…*shrugs*

Eyyyyyy…there’s this one guy who looks basically like an older Waver Velvet! That explains a few things, I think.

F/Z 12

“Ramasonic” (sic).

I still think Gil-I mean, Archer’s snakeskin pants are hilarious.

I feel like last episode was a lot better in regards to how good Fate/ could be. This episode is just Ufotable animating talking Gilgamesh and Kirei heads.

Why do I get a bad feeling something bad’s going to happen to Maiya…again?

Kirei trying to look bada*s while leaning against a wall…it looks sort of funny, to be honest with you…because he bends his neck at a funny angle.

F/Z 13

This is the end of the 1st cour, apparently…according to AniList, at least.

“…5 billion people.” – I think the number is 7 billion now, but okay.

Never leave your Servant unsupervised, amirite?

I saw one of the bookstore’s shelves has science fiction on it…hmm, in a show with magic, that seems ironic…or was that non-fiction? Also somewhat ironic.

Oh, this “Don’t you want to do anything fun?” from Rider to Waver is an interesting parallel to Kirei’s episode (the previous one).

Dragon guy’s off his rocker…seriously.

Paraphrasing here, but “…if you want to use the Grail to make yourself taller…” – then stick to milk and other calcium products, Waver…LOL. I mean, other anime characters do.

Even Saber Naruto runs! There are no aliens here…but that car does have gull-wing doors (<-had to google what the doors were called), so…is it a DeLorean or something? Then someone could time travel instead.

I thought one of the previous commands from the overseers was to defeat Caster…?

Fate/Zero has become a kaiju movie, LOL.

Scared Waver is also a 2020 Mood…LOL.

F/Z 14

What’s this “Giant of Light” business…?

Geesh…If Ufotable did a Godzilla movie, I would watch that…(now that this monster makes me think of that possibility.)

This is a small quibble, but is it “Diabolo” or “Diablo”?

Somehow it didn’t even hit me until the fight was halfway over…but does Gilgamesh control a flying airship as part of his Noble Phantasm?!

Pretty scenery or not, talking people standing still are just that…not very entertaining, for sure. It’s basically the only flaw of this series, aside from the fact it hasn’t plumbed the depths of its themes yet.

Ufotable’s clouds look kind of like Gainax’s in Houkago no Pleiades, huh?

Tokiomi seems to blame Kariya for the whole sister vs. sister thing. Hmm, it really just shows how demented the guy is.

F/Z 15

Berserker is only ever in CGI, huh? No wonder Ufotable was given the job.

“That’s…from King Arthur’s legend…” – Can I please interrupt with the Excalibur song? (I’m annoying like that and want to ruin your level of immersion, that’s why.)

Hey, who knew? We get to see Joan in this anime, too. Thank you, Ufotable and Type Moon for saving me a Netflix subscription.

F/Z 16

“Things have been rather hectic this evening.” – Well, you don’t say…

*Saber and Lancer start their fight * - I detect signs there may have been people shipping Saber and Lancer at this point in time, what with their mutual ideas of honour and such.

Kayneth is kind childish, LOL – he’s like a kid peeping at his parents while they complain to each other about a hard day’s work or something.

Uh, this curse from Lancer here is definitely gonna be relevant later, right…?

I was muttering, “Oh goodness” (<- I’m self-censoring here, but you get the point) a few times over when Kiritsugu and Maiya finally got around to killing Kayneth, Lancer and Kayneth’s fiancee. By the way, were those two ever married…? Also, this makes me wonder…what would happen if you got a completely useless Servant? Like “King of Fools” or something. It would sound like the Familiar of Zero, sure, but it would be an interesting exercise in making a compelling narrative.

F/Z 17

Dangit, B*stard Archer. Disappearing just after you provoked Kirei…

Oh! I found the Avalon scene confusing at first, but now that they explain it, it makes a lot more sense.

“As I live and breathe, Kirei!” – Sounds mighty ironic for a meant-to-be-dead historical figure to say that.

F/Z 18

We jump to someone else’s story…or do we?

For some reason, I think this beach place is based on Okinawa. (It seems like the best match.)

“This isn’t a game.” – Seems highly ironic, given his current situation.

I know Kiritsugu is probably looking into Shirley’s eyes, but all they show is the boobs downwards, so I imagine it to be fanservice.

That shaking was just to disguise the bad animation, wasn’t it…?

…and suddenly, zombies!

Well, that’s great, Kiritsugu. You ended up burning down a village by association. Good job…

“Vampires.” – Well, that wasn’t the word I was expecting…

For some reason, I think this new arrival is a woman, but now that I get a proper look at their face, they kinda look like the Great B*stard (Gilgamesh). Update: It looks like they have cleavage, but then they also kinda resemble Samatoki (Hyp Mic)…so, uh…I dunno. Update 2: Okay, she’s a woman…Natalia, to be precise.

The houses on fire look a lot like the ones in Katsugeki, come to think of it.

F/Z 19

Wait, what’s a Mystic Code again…?

Oh, I didn’t think this show would do it, but there’s a good few seconds of recap. I know, because I had to skip it.

Oh, the reason Kiritsugu doesn’t seem to ally with the Association or the Church is because Natalia wasn’t part of either. Right…I’m so dumb.

Am I just reading into Kiritsugu’s pose here too much, or does he look like Christ the Redeemer a bit…?

There’s something oddly pretty about Vorzak. Then again…it’s too bad he’s designated to be dead.

I could tell Kiritsugu was CGI for a second…but he was in fog. Dangit, Ufotable. You know how to disguise your CGI well.

…Okay, those bees were very CGI. Scrap what I just said.

Bees on a plane. What a way to die.

I’ve noticed Kiritsugu’s eyes don’t have any pupils in them. They’re always kind of dead, but not in th same way En’s (<- from Boueibu) are.

What happened to Kiritsugu’s mother…?

The extended flashback seems to be the best way to my heart, assuming you can pull it off properly.

What’s with that “sometime, somewhere”?

F/Z 20

There hasn’t been a proper OP since 3 episodes ago.

Was Maiya ever interested in Kiritsugu as a woman? This vague pseudo-harem sorta annoys me, which is why I need answers.

The crows in this show aren’t very fluffy. Not that I have a problem with that…it’s just a bit random (and I’m saying that as I operate without much sleep and will have a huge period of getting up early in my near future, so you’re probably going to see even more randomness coming from my brain).

Modanyaki. Never thought I’d be googling a Japanese concept for this anime.

This sleeping bag Waver reminds me of Aizawa, but this is at least 4 years too early for that.

That cloud in the top left is shaped funny…like a knight, maybe? (There’s a triangular bit that looks lik a helmet.)

I believe the bird is a bush warbler (uguisu), based on the colour.

So this is where you learn what the f*** a Gordius Wheel is…right.(sounds a bit pissed)

Seeing Kariya squirm…it makes me thank my lucky stars I had the sound off. My imagination makes the scene worse, though.

So fakers beget fakers and killers beget killers, huh? Not surprising.

“I’ve always told him he was doing the right thing.” – Because you didn’t know any better, huh, Iri?

F/Z 21

“Knight on Two Wheels” – What would that knight be riding, a bike…? (somewhat sarcastic)

…A motorbike. Close enough. (not sarcastic anymore)

The motorbike’s plate says “Fuyuki - Te” – instead of a licence plate combo, Japan has a single hiragana.

Well, at least now I know why you never hear of Kariya outside Fate/Zero much…those worms don’t give him long to live.

Isn’t Tokiomi dead though…?

Holy s***, Kariya, you just got framed! *yells in the tone of voice as if Kariya got owned…which he did, in a sense*

*brow furrowed* What’s up with the framing of Aoi’s killing that makes this seem like attempted rape…?

Kirei looks all dead inside. (LOL) I know it’s the animators’ fault that they didn’t bother with him in that scene, but…he has the eyes of a dead fish there, y’know? I can’t help but laugh.

F/Z 22

Never in my life have I seen a grandpa want to talk on the roof.

The grandpa reminds me of Rider…that’s probably where part of their relationship comes from.

You can see the lack of sleep is getting to Kiritsugu right now…his face looks a little sunken…

…Fate/ is apparently pretty infamous for treating its women badly from a feminist persepctive and I think I get why now…(referring to the death of Aoi and now Kirei’s treatment of Iri)

I think the scariest part of F/Z is watching th emotionless guy learn how to feel…kinda like Equilibrium, y’know?

Hmm? I wonder how this show will choose to end, since it’s signalling its end from 3 episodes out?

I predicted Rider would say something along the lines of “…befitting of the Rider class” and lo and behold! He did!

So Rider can summon a single horse as well as the entire chariot? *Saitama face* Okay then.

Number of Times Waver Appears: 1, Number of Times Waver Cries: 1, Number of Times Waver Blushes: 2

Come to think of it, even though I had that weird “Ohhhhhh! Great B*stard Archer!” reaction at first, Gilgamesh has shown up in most of the worst scenes of this show so far (basically, most of the “talking heads” scenes where he talks shop with Kirei). Then again, my change in feelings probably because I’ve had to keep a special eye out for Waver and knew Saber was the poster girl for the entire series.

The counter appears to be “time until the Holy Grail War”…well, that or its final conflict.

F/Z 23

I like how Waver’s joining in with Rider’s yelling.

I have the sound off, so now I’m just mentally narrating Sakura with this creepy child voice and it’s spooking me out…the Urobutcher could really go toe-to-toe with Stephen King if it weren’t my imagination…(LOL…?)

I feel sorry for that car’s owner…the car wasn’t meant to be wrecked…

I fully expect Berserker to be Lancelot or some other guy in King Arthur’s canon, judging by Saber’s reactio-hey, who’s Arondight…? Update: Oh, f***. It really is Lancelot. Turns out Arondight is the name of Lancelot’s sword. How did I know? There’s that upcoming Camelot adaption, isn’t there? Connect the dots.

Oh, f*** me – I feel conflicted. On the one hand, Lancelot’s hella handsome (and his dark hair is exactly my kinda thing), on the other hand…doesn’t he look like he came out of Castlevania or Vampire Hunter D or something??? F***in’ vampires!

Oh, f*** again, I stand corrected. Lancelot was handsome, before he became a Caster-looking…thing.

*bursts into spontaneous laughter* The new Lancelot looks kinda like Tsukasa from Dr Stone, LOL.

Number of Times Waver Cries: 2

Wait, isn’t Bucephalus Greek??? Update: No, he wasn’t. He was Alexander the Great’s horse. That explains why he’s Rider.

I was wondering how Waver managed to live long enough to be El-Melloi II when he was stuck in a battle to the death. Welp, that’s how he did it, folks! *points at screen*

Number of Times Waver Cries: 3…but…anti-climax, much, f***in’ Gilgamesh???

Uh, what’s up with Psalm 23:4? (I had to google that snippet of the Bible to find out its citation.)

LOL, Kirei and Kiritsugu have very similar faces. Didn’t realise that until now.

F/Z 24

It’s weird seeing Kirei full of fighting spirit…He’s still frickin’ Wolverine, though.

Is this taking cues from the Matrix? I bought it from the charity store the other day because I haven’t seen it yet, but I know Bullet Time from TV Tropes.

Now Kirei is channeling Bruce Lee, LOL.

Ouch…the bullet to the hand reminds me of the nail gun scene in The Island (which still freaks me out to this day). (…and now I’ve gone and done it – every time I think of that movie, I get the song The Island – part 1, at least - in my head as well.)

I can almost see Sakaido (from ID: Invaded) in some of these scenes instead of Kiritsugu…trust Ei Aoki and associates to do that.

I went to dump a screenshot in Paint and one of my Fate/ backgrounds from one of the previous posts was set to my background! (I have my backgrounds set to rotate every 12 hours and I have over 600 pictures for that purpose.) *sighs happily and incredulously* Well, whaddaya know…sometimes the stars do align.

I almost expected Shirley to appear, but it turns out it was Iri instead.

Kiritsugu still has his Command Seals so he’s still connected to the Grail War somehow…hmm…

C’mon, I predicted Gilgamesh would compliment Saber when she was down and bleeding.

F/Z 25 (FINAL)

Who’s Lord Justeaze?

Sakura has the same eyes as Kiritsugu. Dead, lifeless eyes.

Did Kariya just throw himself to the worms???

The Great Naked B*stard Gilgamesh.

A priest is a zombie, huh? How ironic.

Isn’t Gilgamesh annoyed by his lack of clothes…? Update: Never mind. He gets a cloth soon enough.

Wait, if Saber destroyed the Grail, who won…?

Huh? The timer ran out.

Aw, even Waver’s growing up.

One of the books says 零戦 (reisen) which apparently means “Zero Fighter [Plane]”. One of the sets of books says “William Shakespeare”, who I know is a Servant somewhere in the Fateverse.

The Bible verse is Job 19:25.

Lancelot’s head doesn’t disappear when the rest of him fades away…It’s pretty poignant.

Jubstacheit is the head of the Einzberns. Update: Think I had to google that.

“Becoming a hero has an expiration date.” – As much as I know that in my creative heart to not be true, my adult heart says yes, it’s true.

Welp, that’s the end of one series. Time for another.