#post-the lawless

[fanfic-phoenix]

There is No Past Tense

Ratine: Teen

Word Count: 1602

Read on AO3

My Dearest, You are right. I did not expect to hear from you.

*

Satine is gone. Obi-Wan has a box.

My Dearest,

You are right.  I did not expect to hear from you.  I presumed our parting to be a permanent one - we both have our duties, all those things we cannot put aside, and temptation is…

Part of me wants to call it unwise, but I cannot call it unwelcome.  I ought to have burned your letter the moment it arrived; I shouldn’t even have read it.  We agreed to be as strangers - regret should not have weakened our resolve.  Yet here I am, not only reading but replying, because the truth is that since your departure, I have ached, and I can only feel grateful you had the courage to write.  I am not sure I would have.

There is so much, already, that I wish to tell, but I am afraid to slip, to betray us; one careless word, it all comes crashing down.  Am I paranoid?  Who would think to look for flimsi letters these days?  Yet I cannot shake the feeling of eyes against the back of my neck.  Therefore I write nothing of what I do, except that I wish you were here to do it too.  Nothing of my thoughts, except that they dwell on you.

It seems half-pointless to send this, with no news within it, nothing of myself. 

Only, I suppose, that I am thinking of you, that I love you still.  You will value it, I hope, as much as I valued what you sent.

Yours--

*

He didn’t know what it was when it arrived, and he hardly had the time to investigate.  The 212th were shipping out in the evening and there were still a thousand things to do, people to talk to, papers to sign, meetings to attend, senators to soothe and cajole and try not to vomit his disgust onto…  Obi-Wan fell into bed at night and thought nothing of the box he’d shoved into the corner of the room, having done nothing but reach out to the Force and ask, politely, if it was a bomb.

The Force said no, and so it could wait.  It would have to wait.

In the morning, after almost tripping over it as he shuffled to the ‘fresher, he wondered whether he could take it onto the ship, investigate it there.  There was, after all, no telling when they’d next get shore leave, much less on Coruscant - it might not be dangerous, but that didn’t necessarily mean it could be ignored indefinitely.

And then, of course, he admitted as he brushed his teeth, there was his curiosity.  A greedy, reckless thing, much starved by the endless battlefields.  Nothing to study for miles - Anakin had stepped on his last specimen, and there’d been nothing so interesting since.  He needed the mystery, needed something to keep his mind occupied between the planning and the pushes, something that didn’t stink of death and corpses.

He’d taken too long considering it - he wasn’t late, but he wasn’t early, which for Obi-Wan practically was late.  His door opened, Anakin and Cody walked in.  To check on him, no doubt.  They were…

Worried about him.  He might as well admit it.  They were worried about him.  He’d developed an unfortunate habit of getting lost in his own head, his own thoughts, his own reminiscences, and they were frightened by it.  Afraid that, one day, he might not come back.

“Gentlemen,” Obi-Wan said in greeting, only to blink as he realised how hoarse his voice was.  Had it been so long since he’d spoken?  No, he’d spoken to the senators only last night.  He must have spoken more than usual.

“General.”  Cody looked him up and down, assessing.  To a non-Jedi, he might have seemed subtle, expression carefully blank, but he telegraphed it all in the Force.

He did that on purpose, of course.  Obi-Wan had taught him how to shield.

“I received a package,” Obi-Wan explained.  His voice still croaked.  “I was considering whether to bring it aboard.  I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Bring it,” Anakin said.  Almost a command, Obi-Wan noted, though he was not sure why he bothered to note such a thing.  “You don’t know when you’ll be back.”

“That was my thinking,” Obi-Wan said, and picked up the box with his bags.  It was not heavy, yet for a moment, he thought he felt something twinge.

*

My Dearest, 

I am sorry we quarrelled.  Somehow, every time I see you in person, I seem to fight with you.  Or perhaps you fight with me.  Either way, I am sorry for it.  If we could speak as we write…

Perhaps it is self-preservation.  If you spoke to me as you write to me, I could not have kept myself from kissing you.  I would have begged you to take me away from that hateful place, those hateful people--

You know who I mean, of course, though I cannot put it to flimsi.

Sometimes, far too often, I find myself thinking of our last night together, how we just laid there, holding each other.  I think I miss that more than anything.

(Yes, even more than that; don’t think I can’t still picture your eyebrow going up!)

Yours--

*

He’d taken to wearing armour beneath his robes.  Stolen Death Watch pieces, stripped of their colour.  He ought to have painted them gold, but he remembered the meanings he’d learned on Mandalore - gold did not suit a Jedi.  He left them unpainted, silver beskar on show.

Almost grey.

It hardly mattered.  No one saw them beneath the brown and beige robes.

He deflected a blaster bolt with his ‘saber, watched it shatter the droid who sent it, and did not flinch as Anakin appeared at his shoulder in a whirl of energy and plasma.

“Did you open that box yet?” he shouted, straining to be heard over the clash of two armies.

“No.”  Obi-Wan spoke shortly, sharply.  He had, lately, attempted to avoid speaking in the midst of the battle.  He had the vague notion that it might not be words that came up.  

“Of course.”  Anakin rolled his eyes.  “You’re so boring, sometimes, Master.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Well, yeah.”  Anakin was unashamed.  Why shouldn’t he be?  They had lived in each other’s pockets for so long…  Privacy was a relative concept, especially amongst Jedi.  “Will you tell me when you open it?”

“We’ll see,” Obi-Wan said, mostly to see him huff, and then he dived back into the fray, let the noise wash everything else away.

*

My Dearest,

Sometimes I thought you could read my mind.  You always seemed to know when I needed something.  A kind word.  An argument.  Would you tell me, now, if I was right?

Likely not.  You do so love to be mysterious.

(I can imagine you glaring at me, now, pretending that you don’t, but you do.)

No one here can read my mind, I’m certain, or they would not seek to annoy me quite so much.  The violence of their suggestions disgust me.

But I will say no more of that.  You will hear plenty of it, I’m sure, running hither and yon across the galaxy as you do.  

Yours--

*

He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that possessed him to do it, but rather than bid Cody goodnight, he asked, “Commander, would you stay a moment?”

Cody blinked.  “Of course, General.  Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?  No.”  He frowned, unsure why.  “I-  I want to open the box.  Somehow…  I do not wish to do so alone.”

“It’s not dangerous?”

“No.”

Cody nodded, and retook his seat.  

Obi-Wan placed the box on the table.  It was hardly ornate, hardly elegant, but the lock was firm - and the key was missing.  He ran his finger over it.

“Whoever sent it knows me,” he said.  “They expect me to open it with the Force.”

“And will you?”

“Of course,” he said, with mock offence that made Cody grin, and unlocked it with a thought.  The lid came off easily and, for a moment, he couldn’t think why he’d been so anxious.

*

My Dearest, Obi-Wan,

If you are reading this, then I am gone.  You likely already know this, but just in case…

I am sorry to leave you so soon, my love.  I have had so much time with you, yet it hardly seems enough.  But then, I would have protested if given a lifetime with you.

Enclosed, dearest, is the lifetime we did have together.  I hope you can forgive me for not burning your letters as I know I should have, but I could not bear to.  At least you may trust that the fact you have them now proves I chose a worthy custodian.

Whether you keep them, or whether you do what I could not, I hope they remind you of what I should have said far more often: I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you always.

Remember that I am forever yours,

Satine

*

“Sir?”  Cody’s hand was gentle on his arm.  “Obi-Wan?”

“Satine,” he murmured, feeling the tears burning in his eyes.  “She sent me back my letters.”

“Your…”  He looked back at the box, and Obi-Wan could sense his surprise.  “All of them?”

He let loose a ragged laugh.  “We spent twenty years going back and forth.  Apparently she saved every word.”

“And you?”

“Her letters to me are in the Temple,” he confessed.  “It seemed…  I could hardly bring her onto a warship.”

Cody nodded, and pressed his arm again until he sat.  “You must have loved her a great deal.”

“Love,” Obi-Wan corrected.  “There is no past tense in these matters.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[midnight-love-song]

XWP x text posts on this fine evening

[juniemunie]

This post wouldn't leave my mind.

Error and Ink meeting before they completely become themselves is so....

ლ(ಥ益ಥლ) HHHHHHH

[infamous-if]

Seven's inner monolog every time they are forced to stage a scene/interact with the MC:

If MC has a million haters, then I am one of them. If MC has ten haters, then I am one of them. If MC has only one hater then that is me. If MC has no haters, then that means I am no longer on earth. If the world favors MC, then I am against the world.

seven lawless mood board

[filmmakerdreamst]

Xena: Warrior Princess

Season one: the one where it goes from ‘f**k i’m gonna regret this’ to ‘f**k i love her’

Season two: the one where xena possesses a man’s body to kiss gabrielle through a magical spirit world don’t ask

Season three: the one where they have marriage problems

Season four: the one where they are soulmates forever and ever

Season five: the one where they become “mum and dad” to a female baby jesus

Season six: the one which confirms their 50 years of marriage and makes the network fume in a corner

[artsyaprilmr]

It's okay Seven, we've all been here

[calithso]

seven 'ur not funny' lawless

→ → →

seven is from @infamous-if!!

[giulzart]

“You walk into the room and I go quiet

I catch your eyes and don’t blink an eyelid

Feels like the world locked us on an island

An island without waves”

Also just to clarify, mostly cause I don’t know how okayish my storytelling skills are, but the middle panel is basically Violet taking in Seven appearance up close after years of not seeing him(small panels) and then remembering the past(big panel underneath).

Like always, amazing story and characters are from @infamous-if, go read it!

[azgfggf]

For a while I’ve been trying to articulate why XWP means so much to me, and I think I’ve figured it out. It seems to come from a bizzaro world where everything is just. Equal. It feels like a real feminist show because the women are so respected.

I realized this when watching episode 6 (or seven maybe?) there was a scene where Xena was imprisoned, feet chained to the floor and hands to the ceiling. A group of men came in with the express purpose to harm, and in a moment of clarity I realized that I didn’t fear for Xena in the way I did for every other female in fantasy. Fantasy (as a male dominated genre) is full of sexual violence towards women, often used as story beats or just shock. It permeates women’s real lives and bleeds into what they read for escapist fantasy. For a long time I’ve felt as if nowhere is truly safe, because most fantasy media eventually has a scene or two where a woman is violated, or a costume that’s glorified lingerie, and I have to remind myself that this genre was never made with women in mind. But that scene ended with Xena beating the shit out of them, because they tried to beat her. Not assault or grab, just punches and kicks, like men would fight in fantasy. And she fucking won because she’s Xena and she’s awesome.

Again, in many episodes men want her. But they’re never violent towards her. In the show she is treated like a man would be treated in any fantasy setting. With respect. That’s true escapism for me, some world where that kind of violence either doesn’t exist or isnt prevalent. A world so easy to make, and yet so often thrown aside because of “historical accuracy”. In fiction. The specifically not historically accurate genre where you can pull anything out of your ass and people just kinda have to vibe with that.

I’ve also mentioned this before, but it’s so rare in fantasy for women to be…carefree I guess? Most of them are jaded from past violence, or future survivors, or meek healers, or old wise women. None of which are very allowed to be silly like their male counterparts. They’re always serious, always the voice of reason. Always so reigned in from what male characters are allowed to be. Xena has a dark past, but she’s still kind. The story is still light. Women are allowed to be happy without being victimized.

XWP is fantasy first and foremost, and it works wonders. There are POC everywhere, and nobody calls attention to it because, well, that’s just how it is in Xena-land. There’s no sexual violence toward any strong women, because, well, that’s just how it is in Xena-land. People fight on bamboo poles and race chariots in rivers and the steaks only go up to “Ooooo she has to marry the big bad” which never goes anywhere because we all know Xena is gonna stop them.

Xena Warrior Princess is always gonna be my favorite fantasy show, because it’s fantasy that’s finally geared towards women. A fantasy where women are safe, are capable, are treated in the same regard as men with no quippy girl-power one-liners because nobody needs to quip about the status quo. In a genre where women are so often demeaned and violated for minor story beats or shock value, seeing a work that actually feeds into a more female fantasy is what I’m obsessed with. It’s wonderful to see a magical world where women don’t have to live in fear. Or they do, like because cyclops’s n shit but everybody else does that too.

PS: this mostly applies to modern fantasy. Tolkien and Lewis were two authors I grew up on who I largely blame for my fantasy obsession today.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Elim Garak: fucking around vs finding out

[lucyflawless]

Xena & Gabrielle in a selection of my favourite episodes (in no particular order) series 1/??

[midnight-love-song]

Goals

[yourfavaschips]

lawless of greed

Lawless from Servamp would be Pringles Grilled Ham & Cheese!

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely think that from a moral standpoint Glenn made the better choice at the end of the trial- in fact I think one of the most tragic things about that scene (where we hear Glenn’s reasoning and all that) is that if you needed irrefutable proof that Glenn is both a good person and a good dad, there it was! But of course by that point it was already too late.

But… Sometimes I find myself thinking about… How to put this… If Nick had learned of his dad’s decision, do you think he might have… Taken it the wrong way? Do you think if Nick Close had learned that Glenn chose to give up being his dad, he would have understood this as the ultimate act of abandonment? Or that his dad didn’t see him as someone worth fighting for? Not that I think Nick would have wanted his dad to fight the dragon either per se, but… Well, maybe deep down some part of him would have, actually.

[infamous-if]

thinking about that one "RO the ROs are most jealous over" ask... in an attempt to be less spoilery, what "type" of relationship would make seven the most jealous? e.g. someone similar who replaces them, someone who's their complete opposite, etc

Someone who can control their emotions and is outwardly put together. There was a post floating around here...it was very big brained and very accurate to their character.