#not a baby but you get the idea

[mossyriverrocks]

baby’s first breakup

[crowiin]

welcome to the world

[poobirdy]

xin mo did not become the demonic op sword of all three realms for this!!! for @kawouwu who asked for binggeyuan sillies! thank you for your donation to svsss' gotcha 4 gaza!

[lilislegacy]

first of all, annabeth is not subtle at all??? our girl is often just casually saying “you’re gonna make a great dad😍” to her literal 17 year old boyfriend?? girl has got ZERO chill. like none whatsoever. there is no chill in the room with us. and i adore her for it.

and then there’s percy who’s like oh my god guys give me one goddamn second. he’s all ‘hold on let me learn how to keep myself alive before i have to keep someone else alive’

it’s giving the vibes of the wife/mom who has constant baby fever and keeps wanting another kid, and the husband/dad who just wants a nap and a vacation lol

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Fic Idea where Fiddleford helps Stan rebuild the portal, but Stan finds out that Fiddleford has a wife and he's like

"You have a WIFE?? That DIDN'T marry you to steal your car and money???? What are you DOING here???"

"Yeah, well.... She's better off thinking I'm dead somewhere....."

"A WIFE. That LOVES you. Get outta here and go explain yourself, Idiot!!"

"She and our son shouldn't have to deal with--"

"YOUR SON???!!?!!??"

Anyways, so Stan helps Fiddleford reach out and explain himself to his wife, but expresses that he wants to keep being in Gravity Falls, so his wife and kid go to live with them in The Shack instead.

Blah blah blah, bonding happens, Stan bags Fiddleford AND his wife and becomes a step dad, God bless 🙏

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I cannot wait for this Stan to reconnect with his Ford.

I still haven't figured out HOW exactly they'll meet yet, but I do think that Ford would ATTACH himself to Stanley and talk his ears off forever when they eventually get comfortable :] and Stanley would listen because HOLY SHIT, THAT'S HIS BRO HE HASN'T SEEN FOR 40-ISH YEARS, HE MISSED HIS VOICE. Nonstop certified Yapper & Listener relationship <3

Stanley looks dead faced because of his ingrained poker face, but he's thouroughly enjoying it, even if sometimes he has no idea what the fuck Ford is saying. He never interrupts him though, since he knows people usually ignore or interrupt him mid-talk already. So sometimes Stan gets stuck in awkward situations where he has to leave or do stuff, but also doesn't have it in his heart to stop Ford and extract himself out of a (one-sided) conversation.

[kimtaegis]

JIN HUGS JIN HUGS! for @jinstronaut ♡

cr. namuspromised, dwellingsouls, 0613data

[morg-among-the-stars]

Valentine’s Day

Word Count: 1,658

(Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! Here’s a sweet Hobarkley fic in honor of today! <3)

————————————————————————

Payton doesn't get particularly excited about commercial holidays, especially now that he's always preoccupied with one thing or another.

Valentine's Day is fast approaching and he vaguely, half-heartedly knows that he has to get Alice something nice. He's gotten her something nice since they were kids.

But back when he was a kid, his dream had only just spawned in his mind.

He wasn't a politician, he was only a kid with an answer to the question of, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Payton remembers telling his mom about Alice and talking about how Mrs. Charles always wore pearls around her neck.

Shiny and beautiful.

Those two things seemed separate, completely unrelated, but it made sense to an eight-year-old boy with his first little crush.

He wanted to buy Alice a set of pearls for Valentine's Day.

While he didn't understand the scope of his family's wealth, he did know they had the money for his intended gift.

But Georgina didn't want her son to buy something so grand, she wanted him to give a gift in the scope of his age.

He's only eight, he can gift her pearls when he is older.

Payton had pouted and protested, but he had been given an alternative idea; he could make a necklace himself.

It was the one homemade thing Payton ever made for anyone. He was never into arts and crafts, even as a child, besides the occasional drawing to be hung on the refrigerator.

But he sat in his bedroom, stringing shiny plastic beads together, picking out all the white ones for the necklace.

When his work was done, Payton had hid it underneath all the other Valentines that were to be passed out the following day.

Once they'd been let out for recess, Payton took Alice behind the rock wall near the swings, the swings where McAfee and James kept watch so Payton could have his moment in the most private place kids their age had access to.

Payton presented the "pearls", stuttering and bashful, telling Alice that he loves her.

Being bashful about how he feels is a thing he learned to overcome with Alice and most people later on in life.

But at the age of eight, Alice was happy, giving the one boy who didn't believe in cooties a peck on the cheek.

Alice loved him, too.

Payton stepped out from behind the rock wall, grinning like the happiest boy on the planet.

His future First Lady was set in stone.

Payton made it a point to buy Alice something for every Valentine's Day from that day forward.

He stuck to it through elementary and middle school, but high school is when the idea of buying a card or chocolates became one thing to take him away from focusing on changing the world.

A distraction as opposed to a heart-felt gesture.

Now, in his junior year of high school, heart-felt gestures are off the table.

If Alice feels any heartache about it, she never speaks of it.

She sees the pink and red heart motifs everywhere she goes in February and she pays it no mind, pushing forward.

James, in his love for Alice, sees Payton's dismissal of the holiday and something in him wants to buy Alice something nice himself.

But he knows that won't do him any good, Payton would kill him.

So, he does the next best thing and reminds Payton that Valentine's Day is in two days.

"We don't do that. You know it, James." Payton tells him across the table in the library, while Alice and McAfee are off somewhere else, "Since when do you care about Valentine's Day anyway?"

James doesn't have an answer that he can give Payton.

So, he makes one up.

"She's your girlfriend, it's the right thing to do." Payton laughs, audibly laughs at that and looks up from his laptop,

"In twenty years, when we're all in the White House, this stupid holiday won't matter."

James drops it there, there is no getting through to Payton and his stubbornness.

The sun rises the following day and the holiday he now despises is a day away, fast approaching.

He doesn't like this mushy stuff, the cards and little teddy bears and the roses.

But James' words hit him all of a sudden when he thinks of the way Alice had looked at him through her usual content gaze.

She looks frustrated, frustrated in a way she can't express.

If she expressed it, it would cause a rift and a disturbance.

If Payton truly hates anything, he hates a disturbance in his meticulously crafted plans.

So, he drives out to the local Hallmark store in search of something to get James' words out of his mind and that look of frustration out of Alice's eyes.

The store is quiet, a few people are wandering up and down the isles, picking out any number of gifts for their special someone.

Payton turns to the Hallmark cards and the biggest disturbance in his life is shuffling through the various options.

River has a small stuffed bear tucked under his arm.

Payton goes down the isle, shuffling through the cards himself, watching River as subtlety as he can.

He struggles to find a card that is good enough for Alice.

Half of him doesn't care about this one bit and the other half cares a lot, maybe even too much.

In his third or fourth glance in River's direction, he sees him pick a card covered in roses and hearts.

Payton knows that underneath the cheesy Hallmark message will be something poetic and sweet and from the heart.

Astrid is a very lucky girl.

At a point, River looks back at Payton, in a waiting game to see who would acknowledge the other first.

"I thought you and Alice didn't do stuff like this." He comments.

Payton had forgotten that he told River about his distain for Valentine's Day during last week’s tutoring session.

"We don't." Payton states, then shrugs, "But I felt like it was the right thing to do."

River looks almost proud of Payton for using his morals.

Payton can tell him that James knocked the sense into him in a few days, when this store is all set up for St. Patrick's Day on February fifteenth.

Payton picks up a card and puts it right back, asking, "Are you and Astrid doing anything special?"

The question comes off his tongue and it tastes bitter like an unripe lemon.

River smiles to himself and the bitterness only grows as he goes on about their plans for dinner at the best place in town.

Payton has to think quick on his feet when River flips the question back around to him,

"Oh, well- I think- we're going out. Though, I'm still trying to book a reservation, God knows everyone else is trying to steal my great idea." He jokes towards the end to mask the fact that it's nothing special.

He hadn't even thought about it until yesterday in the library.

But River has how he'll treat Astrid like royalty all planned out and Payton is bitter and envious for reasons his subconscious won't allow him to confront.

He picks up a card that's pastel colored and classy, the same as Alice is.

He can write his own message in it tonight.

Payton drafts up the card's message on the way home. He'd also picked up a heart-shaped box of fancy chocolate that Alice likes.

He feels good; this is the most he's done in years.

He wants to do more in the future, the bitterness from his run-in with River solidifies it.

As dumb as it is, Payton understands the frustration Alice feels.

He knows he won't receive a heartfelt card or a nice evening out, where he's showered in sweet words and love from River and that gives him an ache in his heart.

It's a thing he'll never have and he has to deal with it.

He pushes his sorrows to the back of his mind and readies himself for tomorrow.

Alice is overjoyed with what Payton gives him.

No matter how cold and calculated she is, she's still a girl who wants to be shown love, even in the commercial sense that Payton isn't fond of.

James looks at him, it's a look of approval.

A job well done. His First Lady is happy.

At the end of the day, Payton goes to his locker to put his books away.

A folded piece of loose-leaf paper falls out when the door is opened.

A note from River.

Happy Valentine's Day, Payton. You're a busy guy, so I'll keep this short and sweet...

The note is short and sweet in a very literal sense, Payton feels warm and fuzzy at the brief words River had written.

It's signed, "Your buddy, River", but if Payton squints, he can see where the eraser of River's pencil erased the, "L" in, "Love".

Today is the best time to use that word, but River knows better than to make Payton short-circuit when he only has a few hours to prepare an evening out for himself and Alice.

River knows him well, he loves him a lot.

Payton knows River loves him, it's evident in every word he's ever spoken to him or every way he's ever looked at him.

He is the best disturbance in Payton's life.

In the end, Payton enjoys his evening with Alice; he has a lot to be grateful for when it comes to her.

He doesn't explain to her that a run-in with River and a nudge from James pushed him to be so romantic, he keeps that to himself.

Payton keeps River's note in his wallet, tucked behind his school ID.

Next year, he might be brave enough to sneak his own note into River's locker.

[bonecarversbestie]

Don’t mind me just having my weekly cry thinking about Lucien wrapping Solstice gifts for everyone when he knows he won’t get one in return.

Like just imagine him sitting on the floor with scissors and tape making sure the creases are perfect and tying little bows on top 😭

[paponela]

despite everything, it's still you

[captainkirkk]

Truman Show AU

In the Truman Show, everyone was pushing very hard for Truman to have a kid, but he was too busy trying to escape. But what if they HAD had a baby? Maybe Truman gave in, or something more sinister happened (there's already so many human rights violations in this movie, I wouldn't put be surprised if Hannah ""forgot"" to take birth control and whoops, now there's a baby!)

Truman watches the way people interact with his baby girl, and he realises that they're treating her just like they treated him. She's now a prisoner in this cage too.

It's a lot harder for Truman to break out of the dome with a baby (especially with even MORE cameras pointed at the both of them), but he vows to do it. For her.

[bluerosefox]

Taking a Chance

I want more TaliaxDanny stuff so how about this AU. Its mostly HEAVILY hinted though.

[Side note: Danny is in his 20s, maybe mid 20s btw, also enjoy my actual writing style, haven't done this in a while besides some small snippets I write]

Talia discovers the future plans Ra's has for her baby, her heir, her child. She is hurt and enraged because "How dare he! How dare he raise my son to be a sacrificial lamb just to extend his own life!" And the fact he had no plans to truly step down from being the Demon Head. (Basically the timeline where Ra's planned to overtake Damain's body)

-x-x-

Talia stared, her green eyes almost glowing toward the sleeping form of her son on her bed. Her eyes roamed his tiny face, the way he lightly dozed the day away unknowingly of the danger that had set in stone for him. Yes, being not just her son but the son of the Bat and the grandson of the Demon Head he was always going to be in danger but never had she really thought the danger would come from the very person who just declared him his heir. At least not in the way its been presented.

Talia had just discovered the fate her father, Ra's al Ghul, the same man that had held Damian not even a day ago and spoke of the future he could see Damian bring to the League once he was of age and would lead it, had actually planned for her son.

He planned on using her son, raising him to be the perfect heir.... to... to...

Use him as a vessel in the end.

He planned to leave his old decaying body, a body that was beginning to no longer respond to the Lazarus Pits as of late, and basically jump ship to a younger and better body...

The body of her son. The son she created and craved to have and raise. The son she made with her beloved's blood running in his veins.

Despite how enraged she is' Talia knows she can't confront her father. He would kill her... no he would torture her by hurting her baby to the point death would be a mercy if she tried. She also knows she can't go running to Bruce, she had burned the bridge to him ages ago when she refused to leave her father and his teachings and knows he would rip Damian away from her should she tell him what she did. He would, under the guise of protecting their child gain sole custody from Talia, set up next to nothing visitation rights for her to follow. He would say it would be to protect Damian from Ra's but Talia knows Bruce, knows he would use it as a half-excuse just to keep her away... but Talia wants to be in her child's life. Wants to raise him. Wants to be his mother, despite knowing next to nothing on how to be an actual normal mother, she wanted to try. She needed to try.

Running away was also out of the question, especially since Damian had been declared her father 'heir'. He would hunt them down and there was no where in this world she could hide that her father could not find them...

And-

Talia barely gives any warning when she flings the knife behind her. She waited for only a second, either to hear the ting of metal being blocked or the sound of it burying itself onto the wooden door she knew was in its pathway.

Instead she heard neither of those things and instead heard the ticking of a grandfather clock and a deep chuckle.

"As expected from the daughter of the Demon. Sharp and deadly with no hesitation in sight."

"Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. She slowly turned her head and was meet with an odd sight that even the daughter of the Demon has never seen before.

"At most.. an ally to have. At worst, merely a passing stranger with an offer."

The ticking never stopped.

Everything else outside the room though did.

-x-x-

Danny stared, his currently green eyes burning even more brightly than they normally do. Many emotions passed through them, anger, frustration, pain, sadness, regret, heartbreak, and hopelessness to name a few.

He stared at the tiny sleeping face within the healing pod in front of him and closed his eyes as memories of spending time with the one sleeping filled his mind.

"My King." A voice began, Danny's sharp pointed ears twitch for a moment and he turned his head slightly but it was all the speaker needed to know that they had his attention even if he didn't give them his full attention.

"I bring the updated reports from Chief Frostbite you requested." The young yeti ghost said, this had Danny finally turning around and looking upwards and towards the young yeti, who was smaller than Frostbite but none the less bigger than Danny. Danny held his hand out and took the stack of papers in their hands.

Once the papers were in his hands he gave a curt wave of his fingers as if to say 'go on' without actually saying the words and turned his attention to the words on the papers. The young yeti, Icewinds took the signal and began.

"Princess Danielle's core has remained the same since the last check up. No major sign of deteriorating or destabilizing... However that also means there have been no signs of improvement or healing as well..." Icewinds stopped for a moment, allowing their King to register the words being spoken "We will continue to monitor her as best as we can but... My King..."

Icewinds took a deep breath and delivered the news everyone already knew "Without a female donor to complete her Ecto-DNA, should the Princess suffers from another Fading even a minor one, I fear it might be too much for her core and with her current body form it will not be able to withstand the stress... I'm truly sorry My King."

The room fell silent, the only real sounds being the monitors in the room and sound of rustling papers in Danny's hands, who was staring blankly at the words written on them but not really taking them in.

After a moment, Icewinds shifting uncomfortably for a second, Danny spoke his voice raw but strong and firm "I understand. Please inform Frostbite I am... grateful for his, yours, and everyone's continued support and everything everyone's has done to help her... If you do not mind Icewinds, I would... Like to be alone for a while and think... For a moment."

"O-Of course My King." And with that Icewinds left the room, Danny barely taking not of the door closing and his enhanced hearing picking up the hushed soft words being spoken to the Knights that stood outside the room of Danny's request of being left alone for a while.

Once the talking outside the room faded, Danny tilted his body and head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the last few days and allowed the papers he had his hands to fall out and onto the floor. Danny took in a shaky breath and closed his burning eyes as he tried to keep his core emotions in control, knowing if he lost control the Realms would echo him and would panic or worry his people.

And he couldn't deal with that. Not now.

"Clockwork, whatever timeline you are trying to set in motion, I hope it pans out soon." Danny rasped out as he tried his best to keep himself from falling apart. Losing Danielle, losing the girl that was his clone, his mirror, but also was like a sister... daughter sometimes would break him, harshly and deeply.

He knew his advisor and resident Timekeeper had something in the works, the way the aging spirit had looked at him before he left was telling when the news of Danielle's suffering from another Fading attack and Frostbite having to perform a Core Transform nearly last second, which in turn turned her into a baby from how close she was to fully Fading, had been delivered to Danny and the others.

But despite knowing Clockwork had a plan, Danny knew that smile he had before he had left. It had been Clockwork's 'Have hope, but even I am unsure.' smile, a rare one the Timekeeper would wear when even he didn't know which way the pendulum of chance would swing first.

So he did the only thing he could do for now, and that was to remain in the room with Danielle, keep her stabilized as best as he could with his own ectoplasim flowing, and wait to see if whatever Clockwork had planned would work out.

Waiting, even with all he's done in his life from becoming a Halfa, to defending his home and haunt, from fighting off insane Fruitloops to dismantling government bigots until there was nothing left of them, all the way to fighting a tyrannicidal Ghost King to the point Danny had won the crown by Trail by Combat thus taking up the mantle of Ghost King of the Infinite Realms since his seventeenth birthday and bringing the Infinite Realms into a new age of healing the broken crumbling lands and ruling over all justly but firmly, waiting was all he could do for Danielle.

And the waiting. The stress. Was agonizing.

Because what they needed was...

Was a miracle if Danny was to be honest. They needed a female, a donor in all sense of the words, to complete Danielle's incomplete Ecto-DNA, because of course that damned Fruitloop tried skipping steps in creating a clone of Danny and it was no wonder he had failed so many times with only Danielle the most stable of them all and given the fact she still wasn't was damning, but they couldn't just have any female donate their DNA to her.

No the DNA needed the donor to at least be limenal, thus turning the DNA into Ecto-DNA because Danielle was created to be a halfa... The only problem was that the person in question needed to be Jazz level of limenal Ecto-DNA as well.

Meaning that despite both Sam and Val offering their Ecto-DNA from the years of being exposed to the Realms and Ectoplasim theirs wasn't enough to work with Danielle's. Jazz's Ecto-DNA was off the table seeing as she was his sister and mixing it with Danielle's would just lead to problems.

No they needed someone who was born near or in ectoplasm, breathed it, ate or at least filtered it, grew with it for years like Jazz and Danny did, basically the person in question just needed one odd day of dying and returning to life at the same time to becoming a halfa levels of limenal. Only those high levels could complete and combined with Danielle's.

Which given the fact only Jazz had those levels, finding someone near those levels was like looking for needle in space, because forget the haystack.

"....You've returned." Was the only words Danny said when his ears caught the sound of a ticking clock suddenly in the room, his anxiety raising as both dread and a tiny slimmer of hope both slowly climb up in his emotions, knowing whatever answer Clockwork would give him would outweigh the other.

"On time, as always My King." His cryptic Timekeeper responded "I bring... a chance."

Those words were enough to snap Danny out of his chair, he quickly looked towards where Clockwork's voice had been coming from and floated. His eyes burning with determination for a moment before he caught sight of movement behind Clockwork.

Behind the ever changing being stood a breathtaking woman. Tall and proud from the way she held herself, she looked a few years older than him but Danny could sense she was far older her soul not really matching her body. She was lovely to look at no doubt but deadly, very deadly and that was something else Danny could sense after all he was the Ghost King.

And she wasn't alone for in her arms was a baby, roughly the same age that Danielle had been de-aged to as well.

Danny blinked at them when he noticed something.

She...

She was limenal.

Very limenal. Even more limenal than Jazz.

In fact both of them were.

"I would like you to meet Lady Talia al Ghul and her son Damian, My King." Clockwork said as he gave a tiny bow towards the woman who stepped forward, a frown on her face she took in Danny's features and her eyes darting towards Danielle's healing pod for a moment, Danny could see she was tensed and a little weary from no doubt everything so far.

".... Welcome Lady Talia to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." Danny greeted, his many years of training with other royalties coming forward as second nature now, he wasn't some normal teen from the middle of the Mid-West after all. "Has Clockwork told you the reasoning as to why you have been... chosen?"

He honestly would put it past Clockwork to be cryptic about the reasoning, but he hoped he hadn't because Danny really didn't want to explain the importance of it all and why they needed to hurry. And judging by the roll of his eyes Clockwork knew what Danny had been meaning as well.

"Yes King Phantom" Talia spoke, her voice rich and silky that sent a tiny shiver up Danny's spine from the sound "You need my DNA to help heal your clone. Should it be successful however it will change her from being merely a clone to instead into becoming yours and mine daughter."

"Correct." Was Danny's response, short and to the point. He needed her answer now if they wanted to save even a fragment of Danielle's core.

The room fell silent again, each them of taking a moment to think.

But eventually Talia spoke. Her voice steady and strong.

"I will offer my aid to you and yours... But only if you swear to both me and my son that we will be given sanctuary from my father and any who dares harm us for the blood that runs in our veins."

Danny only had one answer to that as his eyes caught hers.

Because despite being the Ghost King Phantom nowadays. He had once been Danny Phantom whose core started as a protector spirit and could sense the honestly of needing safety in her words.

"Yes."

-x-x-

Clockwork watched and smiled at the two adults in the room as they continued to stare at each other.

He knew he had been cutting it close, waiting for Talia to be at the ends of ropes and needing a chance to finally leave her deadly and abusive father without the toxic strings attached her ex would tie around her under the guise of safety for their son.

Turning his attention away from the two as they began to speak terms, Clockwork cast his gaze towards an window in the room and stared out of it, smile still on his face as glimpses of the rare future he saw slowly rose up more frequently.

Danny and Talia slowly and surely working together to raise not just Danielle, or rather Ellie as they renamed her since she was no longer a clone of Danny, but also Damian together. Passing them off as twins to those outside the Realms or Amity Park.

Talia learning to release the toxic love she had towards Bruce Wayne, and understand if someone truly loved you for you, they would demand sudden change from the only way of life one knows. That since she was no longer the thumb of her father she could finally be free to be herself.

Danny learning that despite being crowned so early in his life, that the weight of the crown didn't need to be carried alone. Sure he had his friends and family but Danny needed someone, someone who understood the weight of the feeling of needing to wear it head held high. And who better to help teach that than the woman who had to carry the name Daughter of the Demon Head herself.

The two growing closer and closer. Until fondness changed and shifted into more. As they raised the two infants with laughter and joy and love.

Ellie getting a kiss from Talia on the forehead when she had a nightmare and seeked her mother out for comfort. Toddler Damian riding Cujo around the castle as he copied Fright Knight after watching him ride off, Danny floating right by him making sure he didn't fall off. Ellie learning how to fight not just from her mother but from her idol Pandora. Damian learning to identify the stars and their names from the man he saw, and later wished was, his father. Ellie and Damian building pillow forts in the library and reading all manners of stories to each other. Danny and Talia holding their tiny hands as they took them to their first day of school within Amity Park their joyful laughter bringing soft smiles on their parents faces.

Danny holding a crying Talia as she explained the things she had been taught and forced to learn by the orders of her father in the dead of night. Doing his best to calm her down as he had been taught by Jazz ages ago.

Talia standing tall and firm when the Observants tried to undermined a order, no a law Danny had set in motion that had upset the eyeballs badly. How she gathered evidence of their attempts to go against it and how they were nothing but traitors towards their King and couldn't weasel themselves out of it this time.

Clockwork smiled warmly when he caught sight of one more glimpse of this future timeline.

Talia dressed beautifully, a crown made of stars and black jewels on her head. Her son dancing with her as firm as he could but his little tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his steps and was dressed like a tiny prince complete with a tiny crown of stars on his head as well, Talia's face held a tiny smile of love watching him try his hardest to dance correctly with her. Joyful squeals of laughter rang out as King Phantom twirled with Ellie, who was dressed like a true princess, in his arms.

Around them in the ballroom the citizens of Realms laughed, joyfully danced, sang, ate, or merely watched. For the first time in many, many years the Realms felt... Complete. Whole. Happy.

A true wonderful afterlife that all could enjoy.

Yes.

He knew waiting the last second was a long shot, for a chance that almost wasn't, but the future he saw was well worth it.

A good future. A balanced one. A happy afterlife one.

Now, all he had to do was wait for the seeds of this future to bloom.

[artuurle]

Congrats to Huzzlemug on becoming a single mother !

[nevertheless-moving]

So You Just Killed Palpatine

In Which, Much To Obi-Wan Kenobi's Surprise, While Dealing With The Consequences of One's Own Action's Can Be A Lot, It Isn't Always Entirely A Bad Thing

originally inspired by this and this from anon and husborth Part One, Part Two, Part Three ... Part Fo ... uh ... there's memes somewhere... Anyway Here's Part Five:

Obi-Wan blinked awake, head cloudy and body heavy, as if under unusually high gravity. But no, there was the all-too-recognizable ceiling of the temple healing halls, its mosaic ceiling drifting in lazy, clockwise circles.

What did I do this time? Wait, there was something I had to tell the rest of the Jedi...something important...

Oh dear, he was on the good painkillers, wasn't he?

“Obi-Wan?” someone familiar asked, voice and force presence ringing with a startling jab of hope.

“Bant?” he tried to reply, only to be met with burning pain in his throat. The only thing he managed to get out was an unintelligible coughing fit which pulled sharply at his gut.

“Take it easy!” she urged, moving into his blurry line of sight. “You’ve had extensive abdominal surgery, and your throat was — was crushed rather severely — it’s going to take more time for the grafts to heal.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chastened, before cautiously starting the process of pushing himself up in bed, Bant hovering nervously all the while. The effort made his muscles ache and the room spin faster, but things settled down once he was sitting up.

He looked around, sagging in relief at a small oily handprint on one of the otherwise sterile visitor chairs. Anakin had been here recently, and was in good enough health to be tinkering. Good, that was good. That was important.

He suddenly realized half his vision was obscured and sluggishly raised a hand to his face, only to find heavy cloth.

“I’m sorry, we weren’t able to save your eye,” Bant said softly. “Once you’re a little more healed we can discuss artificial or bioengineered replacement options.”

She plucked a cup off a counter overcrowded with a dizzying array of flowers. “Here, drink some of this if you’re feeling up to it, it’ll make talking a little easier.”

Obi-Wan accepted the drink, only to feel it slide out of numb hands. Bant gently closed her hands around his, helping to guide the drink to his lips. He grimaced at the taste.

“Bacta infused water,” she apologized. “You’re going to be drinking bacta infused liquids for some time, I’m afraid.”

A wave of exhaustion swept over him and Bant set the cup down as Obi-Wan sagged.

“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.

“Anakin’s fine, he’s completely safe,” Bant said with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. “He’ll be annoyed to know he missed you waking up, he very much wanted to be there.”

Obi-Wan was going to say something else, but sleep dragged him under first.

//

Obi-Wan opened his eyes — his eye — to the sight of Quinlan Vos scowling over a datapad. The dark spot on the left side of his vision was more noticeable than before. What the kriff did I do to myself?

He shifted, irritated at how lethargically his body responded. The pad fell to the ground with a clatter as Quinlan lurched towards the bed.

“Obi-Wan! Hold on, let me — you’re supposed to have the water before you try to talk.”

Quinlan helped hold up a cup and straw so Obi-Wan could take several short sips of the unpleasantly viscous and vaguely pineapple flavored water.

“How are you feeling?” Quinlan asked, hovering with uncharacteristic anxiousness.

Obi-Wan paused to think. “Weak,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “How long have I been...”

Guilt flashed over Vos’s face. “You were in and out of Bacta tanks and surgery for a full two weeks. And then another week in an induced coma. And then another week in a self-healing trance. You had...a lot of internal injuries. I’m so sorry Obi-Wan—this is all my fault.”

Obi-Wan stared at Quinlan blankly for a moment. His face helped the memories to start trickling in.

"Yes..." he said slowly. "Yes — you knocked on my door... you said... Vos... please just... just tell me if I hallucinated anything — did I try to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?"

"I'd say you succeeded," Quinlan replied, half-smiling, half-grimacing.

"Did I — did we think he was a pedophile, only—”

He had to pause, throat burning as he fought a coughing fit. He swallowed more disgustingly flavored water before finishing the thought.

“—only to discover that he was in fact not sexually grooming Anakin, but was doing a number of other terrible things? And did he... did he — did he electrocute me...”

Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he took several more sips, throat filled with an uncomfortable fizzing sensation.

Quinlan nodded, wincing. “I mean parts of that you know better than me but yeah, that matches with what I understand.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan finished the cup, mulling it over.

Quinlan Vos muttered something under his breath that Obi-Wan couldn't quite make out, but the word "dramatic" almost definitely featured.

Grey crept in around the corners of his vision, then black.

//

When he opened his eyes — his eye, he'd have to get used to that — next, he was greeted by a convenient and increasingly familiar cup at his bedside, as well as Master Windu. Obi-Wan quickly reached for the water, clutching it in both hands and taking a long drink.

Spurred on by the sight of the Master of the Order, he also reached for the urgent thought from earlier, wanting to get it out before he slipped back under —

“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”

The corners of Mace’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, Knight Kenobi," he said. "We’re aware of that now. You’ve proved it to be the case quite publicly. And ended the threat with remarkable... thoroughness.”

Obi-Wan head fell back. “A Sith Lord... the Chancellor!” he said in amazement. He was relieved to find his throat only barely twinging at his outburst.

“It truly stretches the imagination,” Mace agreed tolerantly.

“You’re telling me!” Obi-Wan took another long drink, head spinning.

Master Windu smoothed a crease from his robe before saying, with extreme delicacy, “I don't wish to pressure you into speaking before you've healed... but I admit, we’ve all been wondering how exactly you knew.”

"He force choked me and electrocuted me with Sith Lightning. Lighting! I thought that was a myth!” He drained the cup, hands shaking slightly.

“Yes,” Mace said quietly. “The healers were amazed you survived so long... let alone had the strength to fight back with such strength. We’re all extremely grateful to the Force for keeping you alive long enough for us to reach you.”

Obi-Wan made a mental note to feel grateful later, but his mental space was a bit of a mess at the moment, and he wasn't entirely certain he had filed it away correctly.

Master Windu sighed. “We would have been there sooner but I’m afraid none of us had any idea that you were going to confront a Sith.” A twinge of reproach crept into Windu's voice, but Obi-Wan set it aside along with the gratitude, to be examined at some later date. Ideally when his head felt less full of bantha wool.

“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.

“Well you figured it out before the Council at least,” Mace replied, not without humor.

He couldn't help but snort. “Yes, because he shot lightning at me. I mean the force choking happened first but... lightning. Lightning!”

Lines formed between Master Windu's brows as he looked down at him. “As much as it pains me, I understand the risk assessment in not telling the High Council about a Sith Chancellor of the Republic, and goading a public fight was probably the best political move possible. But why start the confrontation so privately? It seemed rather — apologies, we can debrief on that when you're rested. I presume you were trying to get a confession about the droid and clone armies?”

Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.

“The what.”

The lines on Master Windu’s face deepened. “The... Kamonian clone army — the clones of Jango Fett...”

Obi-Wan’s eyes got wider. “Jango Fett—you mean Galidrean Jango Fett? The Jedi Killer? Palpatine made a clone army of him?”

Mace was silent for a long while, staring at Obi-Wan as though he were a particularly concerning puzzle. Obi-Wan chewed on the straw, mind wandering to whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Master Windu for a refill. As unpleasant as the flavor was, the fizzing did make his throat feel better.

“Knight Kenobi...” Mace finally said, speaking very slowly. “Do you remember why Chancellor Palpatine attacked you? The soul healers were quite certain the Sith Lord didn’t breach your inner shields but I think you might be suffering from some memory loss...”

His left eye itched; he resisted the urge to reach for it. Obi-Wan sank further into the cushions behind him, trying to think. Were there gaps in his memory? No, as usual, it all seemed a fairly clear path from Quinlan Vos knocking on his door to Obi-Wan ending up unconscious in the healing halls.

“Why Palpatine starting attacking?" he mused. "I suppose he wasn't going to just dance around forever — force, when he dodged my blaster shot, I simply could not understand how — it all happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the wall by a Dark —”

“Stop,” Master Windu ordered, raising his hand. He took a deep breath, radiating calm into the force.

“Do you remember what Palpatine said immediately before you shot him?” he asked patiently.

Obi-Wan shifted, feeling a pang of awkwardness as he muttered the answer guiltily under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Knight Kenobi, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He said, ah, ‘you’re a Jedi’ and ‘you can’t kill an unarmed man.’”

Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.

There was a long pause while Obi-Wan fidgeted with the straw. He was starting to feel that perhaps his thoughts were even less clear than he had assumed them to be, and he was not handling this conversation particularly well.

Windu took another deep breath, radiating slightly less calm then before.

“Knight Kenobi. Why did you shoot the Chancellor of the Republic?”

“...I was trying to kill him,” Obi-Wan said, looking down.

“Why?”

Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Kenobi, speak clearly.”

“Well—ah—it actually turns out that I had misunderstood...I mean it had certainly seemed like...but he wasn’t actually...doing exactly what I thought...”

Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.

It occurred to Obi-Wan for the first time, that, considering his plan of running away and becoming a bounty hunter was no longer possible nor, perhaps necessary, he could have misrepresented some of the timeline of events vis a vis sith slaying. Or better yet, pretended to have memory loss.

In his defense, the whole experience had been extremely unnerving! For all that weeks had clearly elapsed for everyone else, Obi-Wan was still processing Chancellor Palpatine shooting lightning out of his fingers.

A wave of exhaustion flooded over him, and he sank into it with relief, recognizing now the sickly sweet painkillers pulsing through his blood, clouding his thoughts and pulling him under.

//

Unfortunately, Mace Windu was still there when he woke up. Kriff.

He opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but Windu raised his hand, cutting off any poorly thought out explanations.

Master Windu took a deep breath, radiating very little calm by this point.

“Let me get this clear. Nod if yes, shake your head if no, did you go into the Chancellor’s office with the intent to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Did you know he was a Sith before you went into his office?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“Did you suspect he was a Sith?" Mace asked, slightly desperate.

Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.

“Before you went into the Chancellor’s office, were you aware that he was working with the Kaminoians to commission a clone army?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.

“Did you know he was working with the trade federation to commission a droid army?”

Another no.

“Did you suspect anything about these armies? Anything about a larger plot to destabilize the Republic? Destroy the Jedi? Become Emperor?”

Obi-Wan shook his head at each question, eyes widening with shock.

Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.

“Knight Kenobi...” he asked with a pained expression. “Did you... attempt to assassinate the Chancellor of the republic for personal reasons born out of some sort of misunderstanding? Only to inadvertently save the Republic?”

“I mean once I found out that he was a Sith... I of course changed tactics... and personal is a bit... but... that... Well. More or less sums the situation up, yes.”

Mace WIndu stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. He didn't entirely trust his ability to explain things well at the moment, and ultimately decided to err on the side of silence.

Obi-Wan vaguely wished he could slip into sleep, but was fairly sure that it would be rude and possibly obvious to do twice in one conversation. His throat itched and he considered once again asking for more water, ultimately deciding against it.

Minutes passed, Master Windu staring blankly at the wall above Obi-Wan’s shoulders, while Obi-Wan's mind started to wander.

Who on earth had been paying to feed a clone army? How was Quinlan doing at getting Anakin to brush his teeth? Am I going to prison? Ohh that’s why the force was so insistent on killing Palpatine. Maybe that would help explain things to Master Windu? Though 'the force told me to' is  generally not considered a good excuse, in of itself, for acts of violence...though this is a rather unique situation...

Eventually Master Plo walked in, letting out a pleased noise.

“There he is! The Hero of the Republic!”

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

“Is that what they’re calling me?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, when it became clear Master Windu wasn’t ready to address everything wrong with that.

“Oh! Your drink is empty! Mace, Vokara was very clear with her instructions!” Master Plo scolded.

Mace Windu didn’t reply.

Plo-Koon snatched the cup, filling it up from a pitcher across the room and talking boisterously. “Well, the public is throwing around a lot of titles, but since you already had Sith Slayer...”

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan said faintly, accepting the terrible water and drinking it for lack of anything better to do.

Plo-Koon patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s going to be very difficult for you to dodge commendations for your actions. Now that you’re awake you’re going to be faced with quite a backlog of requests for ceremonies and interviews—”

Obi-Wan choked. “Ceremonies?” he repeated in a higher pitch. He snuck a look at Master Windu. His eyes were closed, though he didn't appear to be meditating.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Yes, ceremonies," Plo-Koon said with far too much relish. "Turns out there are quite a lot of old traditions on the books regarding —"

Master Healer Vokara Che entered the room at brisk pace. “I thought I heard voices — I will remind you that before he is the ‘Sith Slayer Returned’ or ‘The True Chosen One’ or any such nonsense he is first and foremost my patient.”

She gave a sharp look to both Council Members. Plo-Koon nodded contritely while Master Windu continued to not say or do anything.

“The — no, no Anakin’s the chosen one —" Obi-Wan sputtered. "Anakin’s the reason — people aren’t actually calling me that, right?” he asked, drugs doing an admirable job at suppressing the panic he was fairly sure he was going to feel later. The device in Master Che's hand beeped faintly in answer.

“That and more, young Kenobi,” another familiar voice suddenly added, below his field of vision. “To collect your honors, expect to survive, you did not, mmn?”

“Master Yoda! No, I—I really didn’t expect... any honors... at most I was hoping that people would understand...” Obi-Wan protested weakly, shooting Windu a beseeching look which yet again failed to garner a response.

Che rolled her eyes, flipping a lek behind her somewhat sarcastically as she attached a glowing device to his chest. "Of course you didn't."

He barely refrained from wincing as several needles bit into him.

“Perhaps we would have had a better chance of understanding had you left us any of your evidence,” Master Koon chided gently.

“Put together the pieces we did, in our time,” Yoda added, hopping up on the nightstand to affectionately poke his shoulder.

Obi-Wan leaned back, feeling increasingly light-headed.

“Your vitals look good, all things considered,” Master Che said, sounding smug. “You should be back to getting into trouble in a year or so.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head in her direction, aghast. “A year?!”

“Busy, you will be, if work you wish. A seat, open there is for you. Comfortable chair, good company, important duties.”

Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

The healer scowled. “You were bleeding heavily into more or less all your major organs, including your brain. Really, it would be faster for me to list organs that weren't damaged. The fact that you recovered at all is only because Master Gallia conducted ill-advised on-scene amateur healing—"

"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

"—ill-advised, but successfully non-self-detrimental amateur healing, and I’m a miracle worker, and, credit where credit is due, you’re a stubborn bastard; not to mention your padawan has far too much energy to throw around — you really should consider enrolling him some healer’s courses—”

“Is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked, more urgently.

“He’s fine,” Master Plo reassured him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “Everyone is fine except for you. He just tired himself out a few times, but Knight Vos has been keeping a close eye on him, and Anakin understands that the best thing at this point is to let you heal under your own power."

“Can I see him?” he asked. His voice was growing hoarse despite the dutifully refilled cup.

Vokara’s face softened. “Of course. He’ll be stopping by after class, in another hour or so. He’s been very punctual.”

“Master Windu? Alright are you? Silent, you have been.” Mace flinched upon being prodded with a stick. He opened his eyes, pinning Knight Kenobi with a steely gaze. Obi-Wan shrunk back, but Windu just sighed.

“You...” he trailed off. He stood up slowly, as if the movement pained him.

"I —" he said authoritatively, quieting the room. "—am taking a sabbatical. Call me when—” Windu gestured vaguely. “—you all sort out this mess.”

He walked out.

A long moment passed. “What did you tell him?” Master Plo finally asked in a hushed whisper.

"Ah..." Obi-Wan paused, limbs heavy with fatigue. "Well — you see— " He closed his eyes, feeling slightly cowardly as he did so.

//

When he opened them again, the light hadn't shifted nearly as much as other inbetweens, and his bandages hadn't been changed. Master Plo was still there, speaking quietly with Yoda.

Shit.

"Not too long that time," Vokara said, pleased. "I've lowered the dose on some of your medications, it should make it easier to stay awake."

"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.

"Young Kenobi." Plo-Koon moved closer. "I dislike pressuring you in your current state, but... Master Windu appears to have left the temple. We were wondering..."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again, considering. His mind was, at last, starting to catch up with mouth. “He asked me... some questions. About how I came to suspect Palpatine," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It would appear I may have forgotten some details. About the evidence...Master Windu was — distressed regarding what I did and did not recall."

Vokara nodded. "Memory loss is completely understandable with the type of injuries you recieved."

"Alright, it is, if remember everything, you cannot," Yoda added kindly. "Our own investigations, ongoing are."

"So if I, ah, can't quite remember everything that led up to our fight," Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty, but force, that blank look in Master Windu's eyes. "I mean I definitely remember the force willing me to decisively seek his end — really it was unusually loud about it," he added hastily. "If that helps."

Yoda nodded slowly. "This reason, understand we do. But, present to the public, perhaps not a good idea would be."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I think — I'm not certain but I believe Quinlan Vos may have helped me collect some evidence..."

"Said as much, he did. Wait to confer with you, he wanted."

Obi-Wan sagged backwards with relief. "Yes. Yes! We had security concerns... Palpatine was so highly placed..." he trailed off.

"Considering Sifo-Dyas's and Count Dooku's entanglement in all this I can hardly blame you for hesitating to reach out to the council," Plo-Koon said, exhaustion audible even through his vocoder.

Obi-Wan choked on his spit; the following coughing fit was soon rewarded with a fresh bacta drink from Vokara.

Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??

"Perhaps after I speak with him I'll be able to better assist with the current investigations," he offered hoarsely after recovering.

"Of course," Plo-Koon said gently. "Again, we apologize for interrogating you so early into your recovery but you really can't imagine the public and political scrutiny we've all been under —" He hesitated. "Master Windu was joking about taking a sabbatical right now, was he not?" he asked, sounding strained. "I know he's been under a lot of pressure, but surely you having memory issues couldn't—"

He was thankfully interrupted by the sound of small feet moving rapidly and a gangly body launching itself at highspeeds through the doorway.

Vokara just managed to snag the back of Anakin's robes before he crashed into Obi-Wan's medbed.

"Padawan Skywalker," she said, voice tight. "I believe I have mentioned the numerous injuries your master is recovering from and the need for —"

"Care in my movements," he said sheepishly. "Apologies, master, thank you."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, something in his chest relaxing at the sight of his dangling student.

"Obi-Wan." His padawan's eyes immediately started filling with tears.

Obi-Wan reached out instinctively. "Oh, Anakin."

"Give you a moment, we will," Yoda said, hobbling out, as Vokara sighed, then gently placed his pupil on the floor.

"Of course," Plo-Koon agreed. "Take all the time you need." He hurried to catch up with Yoda. Obi-Wan heard him begin to say, "Mace can't actually be leaving us to deal with this clusterfu—'' Then the door closed, and Anakin was weeping at his bedside.

"Shh," Obi-Wan said, tugging his padawan up, ignoring the protestations of his abdomen. "There, there, it will be alright."

Anakin crawled up, movements ginger and uncertain around Obi-Wan's numerous injuries. Together, they somehow managed to shift Obi-Wan enough for Anakin to fit beside him. His padawan shook with suppressed sobs, and parts of him were almost certainly hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed.

Obi-Wan ran one hand through Anakin's hair, the other hand gently resting where he could reach without twisting too much, probably an elbow, though the boy was pointy enough these days that he couldn't be sure. If Obi-Wan was also shaking, well. There was reason enough.

"Sheev," Anakin finally said, oozing misery and an overwhelming tangle of other unpleasant emotions into the force.

"...I know he was your friend—" Obi-Wan said, after what was hopefully not too long a pause. This was another conversation that probably wouldn't be helped by painkillers.

"But he wasn't, really." Anakin curled up, even more miserable. "I know. I should let go."

The side of Obi-Wan's head throbbed. On second thought, painkillers were the way to go here. "That's not what I meant," he said. "He was a friend to you. He's gone now. Because of me, your master. And... I'm sure you've found out a lot while I've been asleep. I can't imagine a single padawan learner who wouldn't be struggling with their emotions right now. I'm struggling."

"I'm angry," Anakin said into his side. "Master, I'm so full of anger."

"You think I wasn't?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.

Anakin hiccuped a sob. "I'm angry at everyone."

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "You'll work through it in time. I'll be here to help, whenever you want. Even when I'm the one you're angry with."

Anakin sobbed another minute, force presence roiling, before finally pulling himself in with a deep breath, and wiping his nose on the sheets. "You looked so cool when you were angry," he mumbled into Obi-Wan's side.

"Oh force," Obi-Wan groaned. "Of course there was holofootage. Of course you watched."

"Are you... still angry?" Anakin asked.

Fuck.

Obi-Wan tried to think of the right answer for a padawan learner. His head throbbed again.

"Honestly? Right now I'm mostly just tired. I feel like I was run over by a pack of bantha. It's never a good idea to try and deal with large emotional gnarls while you're this exhausted, remember that my young padawan."

"You've been asleep for years," Anakin whined. "How are you still tired?"

"Years?" he asked, amused.

"At least three," Anakin huffed, curling up against him.

Obi-Wan stroked his hair in peaceful silence for a moment.

"...Did you really smash in his skull with a metal chair to protect me?"

"I would do a lot of things to protect you," he confessed. "I'm sorry Anakin — I should have talked with you when I grew concerned with his behavior. I felt at the time I had to act swiftly, but I worry I only caused you more pain."

"It was a really cool fight."

"...Thank you, padawan."

"Can you teach me how to choke people with my ankles like that?" he sniffled.

Obi-Wan groaned internally. "Of course, as a Jedi, violence—" 

"Violence is our last resort," Anakin interrupted. "Right, yeah —but if it is needed—"

"—Such as when someone," Obi-Wan said over him. "After careful consideration, is found to be both politically insulated and positioned to commit great further harm—"

"Actually, I think you, the person who killed my trusted friend, lecturing me on why he was ultra especially irredeemably evil is traumatizing, even more traumatizing than all those holo compilations of you —"

"Oh force above, of course there's — oh. Oh no — please don't tell me—"

"The latest Jizz music," Anakin said, far too gleeful.

Obi-Wan groaned. Unfortunately, the extra movement in his chest triggered an admittedly ghastly sounding coughing fit and Anakin immediately lost the small edge of grace he had managed to cultivate during their back and forth.

"Master?" he asked urgently. "Master — hold on — I'll go get—"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan rasped. "Any more of that —"

Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.

Such a good boy, he thought affectionately, watching him pour and carry over a glass with the same care others might have when handling molten gold.

Obi-Wan drank with a reciprocal amount of delicacy, knowing his padawan was watching falcon-eyed for any wasted drops.

"Perhaps we should finish this conversation a little later," Obi-Wan said, once his airways calmed down.

Coughing should not be this exhausting.

"Of course," Anakin said, subdued, but he crawled back into bed readily enough when Obi-Wan patted it.

“Really, though —” Obi-Wan started to say, feeling it was duty to try and wrap up the lesson, but he was fortunately cut off before he was forced to figure out exactly what that lesson was.

“It’s alright,” Anakin chimed comfortingly. “We have time to talk about it, master. Can’t you tell?”

“Hm?” Obi-Wan replied, fighting the droop of his eyelids. 

“The force clears,” Anakin said, voice sonorous. “The dark retreats.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s eyes started falling closed. “That’s nice.”

“So we have time. To figure out the rest.”

 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.

His padawan curled against him, force presence like ocean waves rocking him to sleep.

“The force says it’s going to be alright,” Anakin whispered, wonderingly. “It’s going to be alright.”

Obi-Wan smiled, then once again slipped back to sleep.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

[somegrumpynerd]

Y'know those kind of ideas where like Dream's team and Nightmare's team somehow get turned into little kid versions of themselves and Dream and Nightmare have to take care of them? What about that in reverse

Blue and Ink find themselves looking after a little tiny Dream who's very nervous and clingy, so they're doing their best to keep him happy. Every so often the MTT shows up and tries to kidnap him, but Blue and Ink manage to fend them off and keep Dream safe. Eventually they find out the boys aren't just trying to strike while Dream's vulnerable, but their boss is little and scared now too and he won't come out from under the bed until he sees his brother.