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starksvixen · 3 years

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Both Good and Evil

Summary: Darth Regius has a mission sent down from Emperor Palpatine. Entice Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side using any means possible. But as the two draw closer, learning more about their pasts, they realize the balance of both good and evil.

Warnings: Ends with angst, darker themes, LONG ASS FIC

“Careful, Anakin, too harsh of a swing and you can hurt yourself!”

You tuck a bit of your bottom lip underneath your teeth as you look at the hologram of the handsome young Jedi training with fervor, his blonde braid gently swaying with each swing of his saber.

“I’m glad you find him attractive, you’ll need that...” a general says from behind you.

“And why is that?”

“You’ll need to use your...sexual capabilities to draw him over.”

Turning towards the bitter old man, the sharp static nips at your fingers as the dark Force flows through you, imagining his throat slowly closing under your grasp.

“You will not comment on my capabilities again unless you like your little hands there, General,”

Throwing him to the ground, you ignite one of the tiny dagger like lightsabers concealed in your corset and send it straight into the General’s head. A soft sizzle and subtle smell of pennies fills the air as you analyze the Jedi from his hologram state.

Anger fills his stature with each calculated swing, a certain glint in his eye. One that obviously hungers for revenge. A weakness, something to prey on.

Something to lure him to the Dark side...

You feel your eyes flutter to a close, the world around you turning to static as you feel for his dark energy. Then you find it, the tiniest of sparks. Before you can prey upon it, your eyes are forced open, a voice echoing from behind you:

“Who are you? How did you get into the Jedi temple?”

There he was, lightsaber raised, fear in his eyes. A fight he knew he might not win against the renowned Darth Regius.

But as you look around your surroundings, it seems as if he was on the ship with you, standing as if he had boarded minutes ago.

“I could ask you the same thing, how did you get on my ship?”

He refuses to answer, the words on his tongue fighting against his lips, a stoic face to hide his fear for the vixen of power standing before him. You cock your head softly to the side, walking closer to him as you feel the dark static you feel pulsing through your veins exuding from him.

“You want revenge, I can feel it. You want power and to feel free from the shackles the Jedi Order have locked on you.”

“You’re wrong!”

His voice wavers, his saber drops the slightest touch, his shoulders ease. The idea tickles his ears as it runs like a mad man throughout his train of thought. Slowly, you bridge the gap drawn between the two of you, holding out your hand towards him.

“Show me your pain. And I can show you freedom.”

You can see the switch in his mind, feel the light side burning you with its touch as an even more real burn makes its way towards your extended hand. The connection ends as the lightsaber lands, leaving singed skin and grimaces.

But you saw it, the Dark side taunting him, pulling him in slowly.

He just needed a little push.

You sit in your black armchair, looking at the stars as they whiz by, your tongue enveloping the bitter coffee as you sip it.

“How did you know I wanted revenge.”

You smirk as you place the cup back on the saucer that delicately balances on your lap. Turning your head, you quirk an eyebrow at the shirtless man before you, obviously roused from sleep.

“Well, good evening to you too,”

“Answer the question.”

A soft chuckle bounces across your throat before you lift your small cup and take another sip of coffee.

“Why the Force of course,” you say softly, looking out at the stars once again. “You’re taught that the different sides of the Force are just that, different.”

“Because one is used for evil and the other good.”

“But the Force doesn’t determine that, the person wielding it does. Some don’t choose either side, some choose to be the balance. Like how you were prophesied to be. The Jedi Order is delusional, thinking that balance means goodness restored.”

His eyes widen softly with interest, his shoulders releasing themselves from the cords that hung them close to his ears. You gesture towards the chair in front of you, to which he slowly takes.

“Listen, Anakin, I understand the Order is your entire life. But there is so much you don’t know, what they’ve kept from you. Because balance is not one way or another. One cannot exist without the other. You’re prophesied to bring balance to the Force, not be the Order’s puppet.”

“But that balance means the fall of the Dark Side, that’s what I was meant to do.” he says, his face contorted into confusion.

“Not necessarily. While yes, I do believe you will be the fall of the Sith, the Dark Side will always be around. I believe you are not a sole vessel for goodness. You are a vessel of great complexity, holding both good and dark in your hands.”

Silence fills the vessel as your gaze is drawn back towards the stars. You feel his eyes on you until he fades away, yet another connection broken.

“Jedi are swarming the ship! We need to evacuate!”

Grabbing your lightsaber, you secure it to your corset filled with saber daggers, their handles at the ready. Rushing out from your room, you look at the battleground before you.

“There she is! Darth Regius!”

A group of young Jedi’s yelled this as they ran down the hallway towards you. But as you pulled the handle from your corset, relinquishing the burning blade, they ran like chickens.

“(Y/N)?”

Turning around quickly, you’re met with a stunned Anakin, his lightsaber at the ready. Without hesitation, you take the first swing. As confusion interrupts his beautiful features, you project a message through the Force.

Look like you hate me. Wouldn’t want your master to find out about our little chats now would you?

Quickly, forced hatred plasters onto him as his strikes become more and more aggressive. As his force becomes harder and harder to block, you become more frantic. No way were you about to let a padawan bring you down, even if he was your mission.

Without a thought, your next swing strikes him in the face, causing the smallest of scratched burns to form. With a gasp, you watch as he reels back from the blow, a small smirk coming on his face.

“You owe me a rematch,”

With that, he runs away with his other Jedi as the entire ship cheers in defeat of the Jedi attack. Everyone around you chants your name, but you don’t have the same fervor. Instead, your mind replays the moment over and over again, one sentence coming out in front it all.

He finally trusts me.

"Why trust me?” you ask softly from your desk, different forms needing to be signed glaring at you under harsh light.

“I don’t,” Anakin replies, his lightsaber humming with each swing as he twirls it around with accuracy, pacing back and forth in your room.

You stop what you’re doing, laying the pen down straight against the papers before standing up. Anakin stops his twirl pacing, looking towards you as you hold out both hands to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you something to trust.”

A few minutes pass as you hold your position in front of him, your hands beginning to shake under the weight of vulnerability. Eventually, he drops his saber somewhere unseen, and the calloused hand as well as metal seamlessly slide into yours.

You project your worst memory, Emperor Palpatine murdering your parents. They were meant to keep his child safe alongside you, raising the two of you together so you would become dyad’s in the force, a perfect storm of darkness.

But then the child ran away.

A dyad unmade.

A deal broken.

The tears fall as you hear their screams, the buzz of a lightsaber silencing them with one fell swoop.

“Come, child,” his gravelly voice echoes.

Filled with fear you follow, the memory ending, leaving you reduced to tears in front of the boy you had just barely gotten to know.

“You’re...young, like me?” Anakin says shakily, looking at you with unshed tears. “I was always told you were older.”

You shake your head, shaking the tears away, shaking the pain and loss off your heart.

“I worked hard to survive. Be the child Palpatine lost or face the same fate as my parents.”

“Have you tried to escape? Call for help from the Order?”

“They are the reason my parents are dead!”

You harshly pull your hands away from his, the broken and war torn fingers digging into your own hips.

“A Jedi saw Palpatine’s child and helped him escape, to bring him away from the dark side. That Jedi signed my parents’ death warrant...”

Turning your back to him, you sigh, lifting a shaking hand to wipe away any sign of weakness left on your face. But another wave of sadness hits you as something different enters your mind’s eye.

Anakin, his nightmares, her dead body, the slaughter, all of it. It plays in your head like a nightmare before his force slowly withdraws.

Your body disobeys your mind as you twist to the broken man in front of you.

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone.”

Walking over, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. His strong arms wrap around your waist as you chuckle softly.

“We’re both pretty fucked up, huh?”

“I guess we are,”

A knock on the door makes him suddenly disappear, leaving only the shape of him in your curled arms.

Warm water drips down your skin as you struggle to see through the steam in your small refresher. You reminisce on the months that had passed. What began as long talks across galaxies became long talks across bedrooms. You knew you had a job to bring him to the Dark side, how dangerous a connection to him could be. You repeated the mantra every night. Slipping on the silky robe you placed on the black marble counter, you walk out to your bedroom to find Anakin sitting upon the silk sheets.

His padawan braid was gone, his dull beige robes replaced by dark leather that showed off his frame quite well.

“I see they’ve let you graduate, Anakin.”

“Finally...”

“I told you that they wouldn’t understand your power, that they would hold you back,”

A scoff comes from the man, causing a smirk to come from you. Walking towards him, you gently lay a hand on his cheek where the smallest of scars lays on his handsome face. As you analyze his features, the way his eyes look at you full of lust and adoration, you slowly lay down, laying a gentle kiss on his plush lips. Your hands make their way into his hair as his hands pull you closer to him by your hips. Slowly, your lips break apart but still stay closer together, your mumbles tickling his lips with each word:

“You should grow out your hair, it would suit you,”

A soft smile, one that only you got to see (but you never knew that) appeared on his face as he gently pulls your hand away from his scalp.

“You flatter me too much,”

“Only because you deserve it.”

His gaze falls, guilt pushing his shoulders to cave in towards his chest. Your heart shakes, threatening to break. Taking a step back, you take a deep breath as you turn towards the doors of your refresher.

“You deserve the truth...” you whisper.

Slowly, you turn back towards him.

“I was tasked to bring you to the Dark side. Emperor Palpatine is part of the Sith, he is not who you think he is.”

His eyes widen at your sudden divulgence, only to be quickly filled with anger.

“So all of this time you’ve been manipulating me?!”

“No! Nothing I ever did was to manipulate you!” you walk closer to him. “Because I found not a broken boy but a strong man meant to carry out his prophecy. Please believe me!”

Anakin pushes you away with the Force, an evil glow filling his eyes. You had done your job, but never had you felt worse.

“Well, I guess you completed your task.”

And with that...he was gone.

#anakinskywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #jedi!reader #darksidereader #darkside!anakinxreader #unburnt!anakinxreader #skywalker x reader #starwars #star wars #star wars x reader

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siennahrobek · 3 years

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Working with Obi-Wan Kenobi’s grand padawan was…different. He had heard a lot about Skywalker and Kenobi as a team through many forms – propaganda, gossip, billboards, reports, victories, losses, campaigns. They were a popular topic. They seemed to pull off some of the most insane mission parameters and come out alive from fighting varying horrifying villains and Separatists, darksiders and Sith.

Feemor quickly figured out Ahsoka was quite a bit like Anakin Skywalker. Which sounded awful, now, knowing what he had done and what he had become, but he had meant it in a better way. At least, nothing that extreme. She was fast paced and protective with a strong sense of justice and a decent moral compass. She didn’t seem to understand some of the intricacies of governments, politics and the war effort, she cared about the people. She seemed to go back and forth between cynicism and belief in people. It was an interesting combination.

He wondered if Obi-Wan could help her smooth out some of those more high-strung tendencies.

Then again, Feemor didn’t really know Obi-Wan very well either.

Feemor and Ahsoka spent most of the evacuation helping groups of people and shuttling themselves back and forth with supplies. A few recovering 501st and a of couple Coruscant Guard had joined them on one of the trips. They had lost Rex quickly into the evacuation, before even their first trip back to Ahsoka’s ship. Luckily Feemor had spotted what had happened with him and had to quickly explain to a near panicking Ahsoka that he had simply helped a padawan carry a trooper to the medical bay for surgery when she noticed his absence. He was probably still there.

***

“Are you going to take a shuttle to Obi-Wan’s venator?” Feemor asked quietly. It was their first trip back to the 332nd venator, their shuttle piled full of supplies, clothes and other resources. A few soldiers came along with them, although huddled in the back with one another. Some of them were a little too scared to be hanging around Jedi at this point. It wouldn’t be long before everyone was packed onto the ships of Obi-Wan’s forces, ready to flee away from their brainwashed friends and the Sith wanting them dead for no other reason than existing.

“I want to,” Ahsoka replied after a hesitation. She didn’t look at him. She was piloting, Feemor had gotten the impression she wouldn’t have led him pilot, even if he had tried. “I want to see him. I want him to tell me everything is going to be okay. I have so many questions. I want him to have the answers,” she paused and glanced down. “I know he won’t.”

Feemor didn’t reply, just kept his eyes on her, soft and understanding. What did one say to that?

Ahsoka just looked up into the stars once again, determined driven into her expression. “But I should stay with the 332nd. They have been burned enough by the jedi.”

He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, as it seemed that the 332nd, although betrayed by Skywalker by brainwashing their brothers, had been, at the very least, kept away from that horrible end. Skywalker was only one jedi. What other jedi could they have been burned by?

“Will you?” her voice was quiet and a bit sudden after the stretched silence.

“Maybe,” Feemor shrugged. “Even if I don’t the first time, it isn’t a long trip to Kamino. I need to talk to him, at some point, but I don’t think there will be a good time any moment soon,” he admitted.

The young togruta glanced at him. “You haven’t taken the moment in, what? Thirty years? You never know when you will lose the chance forever. Do it quickly, Master. Before it is too late and one of you is gone.”

***

Rex jogged up to them and silently helped pack up their shuttle. He hadn’t said a word until Feemor had tried to strike up a conversation on the ride over to the 332ndship but Rex kept his answers to a bare minimum, mostly one-word answers. His hands were nearly shaking.

“I saw General Kenobi,” Rex barely muttered out while in the cockpit with Ahsoka and Feemor. The latter figured he was probably talking with her. “He seemed mostly uninjured. It was a little hard to tell because his robes were so dirty. He was wearing his old armor.”

It was the most Feemor had heard Rex speak at that point.

“Is that so. What did you talk about?” Ahsoka’s voice was almost disconnected, like she was talking through a machine. She didn’t sound interested even though Feemor was fairly certain she was.

She didn’t meet his eyes but that didn’t stop the captain from staring at her. He chose his words carefully. “Feelings, mostly.”

“Did you talk about… you know…”

Rex paused and looked away. “Some. You should probably talk about it with him yourself. I think it would do both of you some good.”

Feemor suspected they could make one more trip after this before the evacuation was complete. The end of the conversation was clear.

***

They had done several trips back and forth but this last one, was alone with only supplies in their cargo bay. They had brought up a few clones but not many, most had wanted to stay with the rest of the 501st, many of which still recovering from short surgeries.

He didn’t know how the conversation came up, but he knew why. Ahsoka cared a lot about the clones, especially those under her command. It hurt her, he imagined, watching the ones she worked personally with be brainwashed by her former master. Perhaps it was that reason that she latched onto them instead of the betrayal of her old master. Feemor had his only issues with his teacher, but they paled in comparison to hers. His master just threw him away and got himself killed by a Sith. Hers became one.

She talked, rather ranted, about the unfairness of what was happening with her friends. With Commander Appo and all of the other 501st members that she cared so much about. She talked about the blindness and cowardice of the jedi, just leaving and abandoning them to the fate of a droid, to be used by the Empire for whatever means.

Feemor tried to gently remind her that the jedi were trying to save the helpless and their children. That the jedi do not currently have the numbers or the resources or a plan to rescue them all at this time.

“The jedi will come back for them,” he promised at the end, quiet and gentle. He knew it to be true, the Jedi would come back for the clones, for anyone who needed them. It was a part of their identity, to help those who couldn’t help themselves. But it was even more poignant for the clones, he knew. The Jedi would itch to help them, unwilling to leave their friends to such a fate.

“They didn’t for me.”

Her voice was strained and angry but so quiet, Feemor nearly doesn’t hear her. He understands abandonment. His own master had repudiated for something that not only wasn’t Feemor’s fault, but also something he never had any control over. It never had anything to do with him specifically, it was Xanatos who had ruined it all. And Qui-Gon’s love for Xanatos had just torn the older master apart even more.

He did not remind her that the Jedi did ask her to return.

She was just upset and mixing her feelings, much like any teenager who had been wronged, would.

“They’re just trying to survive, Ahsoka,” Feemor replied, instead. “We cannot help the clones if we are all dead.”

Ahsoka had stopped talking and stared out at the venators they passed, peacefully and ignorantly sweeping the planet, orbiting in a protective barrier, waiting for an attack that would probably never come. Her gaze had settled on one, just a little out of the way, further than the others out in the open space before she turned the controls, sharply curving them towards the ship, instead of away from it.

“Ahsoka, what are you doing?” Feemor asked warily.

The teenager didn’t answer. Instead, she turned the ship even tighter and then straightened out towards the unfamiliar venator.

“Ahsoka!” he yelped. “That is not the ship we want!”

She continued to hold her silence and no matter what Feemor says or does, she continues to fly their shuttle right toward the docking area of the larger venator. She even used the Force to push him nearly out of the chair when he tried to stop her.

“You are going to get us killed,” he hissed. “I’m sure plenty, if not all, of the Coruscant Guards have had their chips activated!”

Swallowing hand, she slowed down, now far too close to turn back now, clicking in comm codes and landing on the outskirts of the bay with a heavy thunk. The Jedi master stared at her, eyes wide.

“We need to get out of here,” he tried again but the togruta female just stood, stone faced and determined. “The rest of the Jedi are going to be leaving soon and we need to be with the 332nd so we can keep up with them.”

“We are going to take this ship,” Ahsoka announced, her tone giving no room for debate. She stood up and grabbed her sabers, marching away. Feemor sighed, running his hands along his face. This was going to be something else.

The clones, so engrossed in their chip activation, had not even noticed the unscheduled landing of an unfamiliar shuttle.

It didn’t stop Feemor from hesitating when they snuck off the ship. As they snuck down the ramp, out of sight, he glanced around. A partially crashed into the wall was a Jedi Delta-7 Interceptor, complete with a dead jedi inside, the bubble that usually encased them in the cockpit broken apart in shards. Neither of them recognized her but she was easily identified as a jedi, even from a distance. She had been shot several times; her chest riddled with blaster shots. Her gorget armor piece had helped her survive, at least until she had got to her ship, but she hadn’t gotten any farther. The engine had been shot out. Feemor hoped she died on impact; he didn’t know if her killers would have had granted her a quick death from bleeding out.

Ahsoka snarled. Feemor looked and felt sick.

A couple of the nonclone natborn officers were laughing on the balcony. The hum and although dulling light were easily distinguishable and identifiable as a lightsaber, whirling and flying through the air. They had taken her lightsaber. They had taken it and were playing with it like it was some kind of toy.

“It’s not even that they don’t care,” Ahsoka choked out, nearly in tears. “They are happy,they are glad, we are being killed off.”

Feemor noticed her use of the term we. It continued.

“We are being killed and they are celebrating…they love that we are dying, leaving our bodies to rot without care, where we are cut down. Distracting us, our ways, playing with part of our souls like children while they murder our children.”

She just cried silently.

“Come on, Ahsoka. Let’s find a place to hide and make a plan.”

***

The two of them snuck through the halls, barely keeping out of sight of the clones. With nothing in their minds, it was easy to keep their attention away. They didn’t want to see anyone – they didn’t see anyone so using a brief signal in the Force to look away was easy to the both of them.

They hid in a few closets, taking down several key troopers throughout some of the ship during their way to the bridge, stripping them of weapons and communications and giving them heavy sleep suggestions. They would be out for hours at the very least. They had talked about a plan, to take the bridge and use the natborn officers to take over the ship. Lock them all in the bridge, including Feemor and Ahsoka, which would keep the clones out but still safe. The plan hadn’t gotten much further than that.

Nearing the bridge, Feemor had pulled Ahsoka into a supply closet as several officers had passed by. To their infinite luck, the officers had stopped nearby to speak to one another, forcing the two jedi to stay in the closet until they were done with their conversation and passed out of sight.

“Master Obi-Wan will like you,” Ahsoka declared, confidently. Her voice was hushed and subdued, but it did nothing to take away from the sentiment.

“You think so?” A welcome topic for Feemor, to be sure.

“I dragged you into something random and unexpected and dangerous. You tried to talk me out of it but then, eventually, just went with it and helped me,” Ahsoka explained. “Just trust me on this one.”

***

“I kind of prefer them this way,” one of the officers noted, watching as lines of clone troopers marched, perfect and silent, down the hall. “They don’t talk, pretending to be men. They just do what they are told.”

“Without complaint,” another snickered, giving one of the clones a shove. The man sprawled to the ground, helmet smashing into the floor. He just got up and kept walking again. No one had even flinched.

Both of the officers laughed.

Ahsoka nearly burst out from their hiding place around the corner, but Feemor held her back. They were close but they couldn’t give away their position yet. It would surely get them killed.

He pulled her away, towards the bridge. They were so close.

As they got nearer, Feemor and Ahsoka dipped into an empty room to prepare. “Three guards, all clones,” Feemor reported, taking a glance in the direction. He pulled back as Ahsoka’s lightsaber snapped in her hands, unignited.

“I’m faster,” Ahsoka noted. It was true of course, if only because she was so much younger than him, but he was rather amused at her assumption of his lack of speed. He wasn’t lacking, as he had noted to himself, the only thing she had on him in terms of that was youth. “You handle the guards with sleep suggestions, and I’ll start clearing a path in the bridge.”

Feemor actually found it a tad entertaining and a bit insulting as well that she had to clarify the sleep suggestion part, as if she thought he was going to purposefully murder a couple of brainwashed clones. “We need some of them alive, Ahsoka,” he shot back.

She turned to stare at him momentarily. “Yeah. Yeah. I know.”

Taking the bridge wasn’t difficult. They didn’t see it coming and were completely unprepared for an assault by two jedi. Ahsoka had taken out the communications officer first – all of the bridge had been quickly replaced with natborns, unsurprisingly – and had nearly taken off his limbs. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. He was dead.

A few of the officers did end up dead, mostly due to Feemor and Ahsoka reflecting blaster bolts back at them. The rest had surrendered fairly quickly. Upon ordering communications throughout the ship to be blocked, Ahsoka worked on the technology part of the controls of the ship, while Feemor cuffed and herded their hostages away from said controls.

“Alright,” Feemor smiled, something wicked and cold. “This is how things are going to go. We are the leaders on the ship now. You will stay here for the duration of your stay. You will not communicate with anyone – not that you could anyways – and if you somehow do, upon someone figuring out what has happened because of it, bad things will happen. You will not let any of the clones on the bridge or tell them that we are here. Do you understand the rules?”

Everyone was rather hesitant, shooting him horrible looks but they nodded.

“Fantastic. Then, we can move along,” he turned and walked towards Ahsoka, keeping a blatant eye on their prisoners.

“Ah, Ahsoka?” he questioned. “This was great and all but now we have at least hundreds of brainwashed clones aboard. What are we going to be doing with them?”

Ahsoka just shrugged. “For now, nothing.”

Ahsoka walked towards the holotable in the middle of the bridge, Feemor trailing behind her uncertainly. She clicked in a comm code and Feemor shifted uncomfortably on the other side of the table. He couldn’t believe they had taken the ship. Keeping it, that was going to be another story. He had no idea what she had in mind; what she was going to do with this entire ship full of brainwashed clones. It wasn’t like the two of them could just take them down or something.

Jesse and Echo, if Feemor remembered correctly, popped up on the table in the blue holoform. “Commander!” Echo greeted, easily. “We were expecting you back hours ago! Is everything okay?”

“Just fine, Echo,” Ahsoka nodded, seriously. “Any word on General Kenobi’s ships and the other Jedi around?”

“Leaving quite soon sir,” Jesse responded this time. “The last couple of ships have left the planet. They will be leaving for Kamino promptly. Rex said he is going to stay with the… with the rest of the 501st, Appo isn’t doing so well.”

“We actually suggested it,” Echo butted in. The look on their faces were pained and mournful. Jesse struggled to speak again but once he started, his voice got stronger.

“What about you, where are you?”

“When are you coming?”

Ahsoka paused and took a deep breath. Feemor watched, carefully. “You go on to Kamino without us, boys,” she started.

The other two began to protest, rather vehemently. “Never sir!”

“You really think we would leave without you?”

Ahsoka nearly let out a laugh but settled for a smirk. “Don’t worry. I will meet you on our next destination. Master Feemor and I…. well, we found ourselves another ride.

#we are burning stars #we are burning stars au #order 66 #order 66 au #fix it of sorts #pro jedi fic #pro jedi #pro clone #ahsoka tano #captain rex #feemor #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #lets save some more clones shall we?#stupid sith #sith are evil #okay just murderous horrible people #I'm bitter sorry?

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glimmerglanger · 4 years

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Whumptober2020 - Day 5

We’re right around the halfway point for the oof!au as of today! Life continues to be awful for Obi-Wan and the 212th. All general warnings still apply. Specific to today’s entry: strangulation (with the Force), torture, mistreatment of prisoners, brief mention of non-con, branding. Still jumping around with the prompts.

Oof!au basic information: Post-Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

Obi-Wan stared across at the wall in his cell for a long time, after the med-droids pulled him from the bacta. He had not thought while submerged in the tank. It had been a relief. All his memories were waiting for him as he came back to consciousness, every burning moment of them.

There was no way to pretend, even for a moment, that it had not happened. The brands across his back pulled each time he tried to move, remaining even after the bacta treatment. He could not see the marks well, not even with his arms free, as they were most of the time in his cell. He shuddered to think what Anakin had burned into his skin, what marks he would bear, for however long he remained alive.

He had known, when he antagonized Anakin, that the results were unlikely to be.... Pleasant. But he’d had no choice. Allowing Anakin to consider too long Padmé’s fate, the fate of his children…. It risked too much. The safety of the children first and foremost.

There was comfort in imagining Luke and Leia safe. Far away from the violence of their father. Obi-Wan would keep himself between them and the rage burning within Anakin, until it consumed him outright. He could keep Anakin distracted, keep his thoughts away from the children, from everyone who needed protection. Obi-Wan knew he could continue making Anakin angry. It had never been a difficult task, and it was significantly easier at the moment.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again, because there was nothing he wanted to see in the dark of his own mind. He’d been aware of Anakin’s….occasionally lustful thoughts for years, since even before Anakin had been Knighted. Anakin had watched him. Wanted him. But he’d never imagined Anakin would--

Well. There were so many things he’d never imagined Anakin would do. Forcing his way into Obi-Wan’s body was hardly the foulest of his actions of late. Compared to genocide, it barely counted, he thought, laughing alone in his empty, barren cell. The alternative was weeping, and he wouldn’t do that.

He knew well enough he was being monitored, ever and always.

It was strange, he considered, absently. He’d felt like a sleep-walker for years, living on Tatooine. He’d gone through the motions of living, a part of him stuck and held back on Mustafar, in that awful instant when he had turned and walked away from Anakin, all of his failures curdling in him.

Obi-Wan felt awake and like himself again, sitting in a cell, subjected to one hurt after another. He knew how to handle torture, knew only one way to deal with it, and it felt natural to fall back into sharp, ill-advised words, to goad his captor, controlling them without them ever realizing what he was doing, to feel almost… confident that he would escape.

He always had before, after all.

He needed to balance himself, if there was to be an escape. Needed to prepare for whatever Anakin intended to do to him next. Luke and Leia were depending upon him, after all. There was no way to reach out and touch the Force, no way to draw comfort from his connection to the universe. There’d not been much comfort there, of late, anyway.

He leaned his head against the wall, stared at nothing, and tried to focus on breathing exercises. He told himself, eventually, that he started to feel better.

Anakin left him alone, for days. Long enough that Obi-Wan suspected he’d been called away on some other mission, dancing to the whims of his Master. There was no way to adequately track the days in that featureless cell.

Troopers brought him food, sometimes. Well, they brought him nutrition, anyway, some kind of mush that was grey-ish brown in color, contained in a tube. One of them would hold his hair and jaw while the other forced it into his mouth, giving him no choice but to swallow or choke.

They always dragged his arms back and bound them, first, forcing him face-down against the cold floor, before pulling him upright once more, like he was little more than a sack of cargo.

“Delicious, as always,” he rasped, after they finished one day, specks of whatever the food was caught across his chin. It tasted vaguely of dirt and always set heavily in his stomach. They did not reply, they didn’t even look at him, his men who had been--

Been turned off, inside. Not even their expressions changed, as far as he ever saw. They were blank-eyed marionettes. Like droids, except droids had personality, even with a control bolt.

Obi-Wan swallowed, his throat tight and pinched closed, wondering if all of the troopers had suffered the same fate; if they’d all been killed, for all that their bodies continued walking around. He’d grieved for his people, for the Jedi, after the genocide…

He hadn’t realized that he had the eradication of two entire peoples to mourn. “Alzo. Booster,” he said, because someone had to remember their names for them, had to remember who they had been, now that they’d had their identities taken away. He supposed he might be the last person in the galaxy who both could and would. “I’m so sorry. For what they did to you.”

Alzo didn’t turn or hesitate as he walked through the door. Obi-Wan thought Booster did, thought he froze, for just an instant, but… Well. He knew he was looking for shreds of hope, regardless of whether or not they actually existed.

The troopers cared for his other physical needs on a sporadic basis. Sometimes they dragged in a hose and sprayed him down, the water icy cold and stinging across his skin. The pressure was so high that he had to turn his shoulders against it, but at least it cleaned him off.

Sometimes, they held him in place and shaved his face, uncareful with the razor. They did not trim his hair; it grew down over the tops of his ears, lower, shaggy. He doubted he’d recognize himself, without a beard and with such tangled hair, but that mattered little. There were no mirrors, in his little cage.

There was nothing at all to offer a distraction, just his healing wounds and the weight of wondering what Anakin had planned for him, next.

Obi-Wan felt almost certain weeks had passed by the time the troopers dragged him from his cell again. He’d gotten familiar with the walk through the halls of Anakin’s mountain fastness, to his throne room. He made absent conversation as they walked, the utter silence of his companions a weight in his chest.

They seemed to have grown used to his chatter. Or, at least, they no longer struck him for it. Perhaps Anakin had reprogrammed them.

Considering that option distracted him, if nothing else, from what he could guess was coming. Anakin waited already in the room for him, sitting on his throne, one leg crossed over the other, expression hidden behind his dark mask.

He was speaking to Cody, as Obi-Wan was dragged in, Cody standing there at attention before him, straight-backed and blank-faced and-- It was all wrong, all of it, even just catching the end of a conversation where Cody reported what had happened in Anakin’s absence. Obi-Wan wondered, fleetingly, if Anakin really left Cody in charge, if it were only another barb, meant to cut into Obi-Wan.

The...harness they’d chained Obi-Wan to last time remained where it was. It pulled at his attention, heavy as gravity. Obi-Wan fought to control his expression as Anakin stood and said, “Restrain him.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Obi-Wan said, speaking as Cody walked over to him, though he expected no answer. He fully anticipated that he would be ignored utterly, and so he was not disappointed as his arms and legs were dragged into position.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I don’t have to do this, either?” Anakin said, the mechanical sound of his voice still jarring and wrong. He’d stood and crossed the room, apparently, staying behind Obi-Wan’s back.

“Would it do me any good?” Obi-Wan asked, as the wall-covering raised across the room, revealing the fires of Mustafar, so far below. The lava fell in the distance, leaving Obi-Wan feeling cold.

“No,” Anakin said, leather-covered fingers trailing across the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’m no longer swayed by your lies.”

“I’m not the one lying,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin snarled behind him, stepping away. Obi-Wan felt the heat when the furnace opened. He wondered how much of his skin Anakin intended to burn this time. He kept talking, because he knew no other way to be, “Successfully murder anyone for your new master?”

The pain was sudden and swift, directly over his spine, the metal so hot it felt almost cold as ice, at first, tendrils of agony spreading everywhere. “I protected the Empire,” Anakin snapped, leaning his weight against the brand, “I made people safer! Secure!”

The brand came off his skin, though it really changed nothing about the level of his pain. He listened to the metal clatter across stone, considering, bitterly, that once he would have hoped desperately for Anakin to find him, in this situation. Once, he would have held out hope that Anakin - above all others - would rescue him.

He said, around the bitterness in his throat, “Ah. The way you made our people safer?”

“The Jedi weren’t my people,” Anakin snarled back and - and the next burn was higher, still on his spine, a blaze of agony. “They were nothing but a corrupt cult. Religious fanatics who went power mad during the war. They were traitors--”

“Traitors to what?” Obi-Wan cut in, the lies pouring from Anakin’s mouth too much for him to take. He panted, twisting his wrists against the bonds, body shaking as Anakin pressed a fresh brand to his skin and it hurt, Force--

“To the Republic,” Anakin spat, and Obi-Wan laughed, shakily.

“Oh,” he gasped, his thoughts getting sharper with pain, “the Republic you destroyed? That Republic, or do you mean--”

“Shut up!” Anakin snarled, and made his point by curling tendrils of the Force around Obi-Wan’s throat, squeezing. Obi-Wan sipped at the air, unable to breathe deeply, feeling his pulse pounding against his skin, giving a strangled cry as Anakin burned him again, Force, he’d almost reached Obi-Wan’s neck--

“The Jedi betrayed the galaxy. They were dangerous. Self-centered. Even before the war, they - they only cared about themselves. But I saw through them, with the help of my new Master. And - and we stopped them. We gave the Jedi exactly what they deserved, Obi-Wan. Just like you’re getting what you deserve.”

He released his choking grip, finally, and Obi-Wan slumped, gulping at the air, smelling the burned char of his own flesh, shivering all over and unable to stop it. He’d gone into shock, he knew. There was no way to avoid it without the Force to draw on, the tell-tale signs of it a betrayal by his own body.

He thought how fortunate it was that he seemed to have set Anakin off on a speech, one that did not require further input from anyone else. “It was right, what I did,” Anakin was shouting, pacing, by the sound of his voice, no longer right at Obi-Wan’s back, “Necessary. And - and my success proves that the Jedi deserved it. The Force smiled upon me. Blessed my purpose. It was the will of the Force. Their - their death proves that.”

Something shifted in Obi-Wan, beyond the pain, beyond the numb horror of the past years. Something that had always been within him, a fierce little ball of whatever made up his soul, stirring his tongue, knowing it would drag Anakin’s attention back, knowing it would mean more pain…

“By your logic,” he panted, inhaling the smell of char and ruin, unable to stay silent while Anakin deluded himself even further, “I suppose that means what happened to your mother was the will of the Force.”

There was a moment of utter silence. Utter stillness. Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched up in one corner as he stared out into the falling lava, bracing with a jagged grin.

Anakin snarled, something low and deadly in his tone, “What did you just say?”

Obi-Wan wetted his bottom lip, unblinking, deliberate in each word he spoke. “I said: you must believe, then, that the successful murder of your mother proved that she deserved--”

Anakin made an awful sound, bestial, and something gripped around Obi-Wan’s throat, his mouth, the Force digging into bone and muscle. “Take it back!” Anakin roared, even as the shackles around Obi-Wan’s wrists tore open, pried apart with the Force.

Obi-Wan slumped, opening his mouth to refuse, but no sounds issued from his throat, Anakin’s grip only tightening, crushing things--

“I said: take it back!” Anakin snarled, grabbing his shoulder, jerking him around and the first blow caught Obi-Wan by surprise, spinning him and dropping him to the ground. Anakin followed, fingers in his hair, tilting his face up into another blow.

“How dare you!” Anakin spat, following one blow with another and Obi-Wan lost track, the impact of metal against flesh felt almost like it was happening to someone else, someone far away from him, Anakin’s continued demands that he apologize, that he recant everything, take back his lies, were barely even noticed.

He could not speak anyway. Anakin was… crushing things. In his throat. Tearing them to pieces. He could not make a sound, not as Anakin bodily lifted him, throwing him against the stockade, pressing him into the sharp edges of the metal, and all the pain blended together into one huge, twisting nightmare.

Eventually, the dark reached up and took him away, even while Anakin was still thrusting into him.

Obi-Wan fell into the black and appreciated the relief.

Obi-Wan woke up in his cell, most of the hurts gone. For a moment, after waking, he considered that perhaps he’d only dreamed his last run-in with Anakin. But his throat hurt, still, strange and deep. He cleared it and tried to rasp out a “hello” to no one. He made no sound at all, and shuddered.

He did not bother trying to leverage himself up off of the floor. He lacked the energy for it.

He wondered, smelling bacta drying in his hair, why Anakin had simply not killed him.

He was still wondering when Tich and Sweeper brought his breakfast. Obi-Wan nodded at them, old habit, since he could not offer a proper greeting. They alternated his care, the men on the base. Obi-Wan believed there to be around three-dozen of them, but… Some had disappeared, since he’d been delivered.

He shuddered to think what had happened to them.

Tich and Sweeper shackled him and hauled him up, pushing his shoulders against the wall. He leaned against Tich’s hand, when Tich gripped his jaw, helpless to stop himself looking for some scrap of comfort, and Tich’s index finger tapped, blaster-fire fast, against his cheek.

He wanted to say: I tried to ask for help, but trying to speak at all was a fresh agony. He winced, used to the fingers in his hair by now, and said nothing. They wouldn’t have done anything, anyway, even if he’d been able to plead for assistance.

And so Obi-Wan just stared forward, waiting for whatever they were going to do to him next.

Days passed. Vader had him dragged in and dragged out, but seemed to grow irritated and distracted when he realized that Obi-Wan could not speak. It took… significant effort before Vader believed that Obi-Wan was not just refusing to make a sound. Once he did, Vader ordered the troopers to take him back to the medical bay, for repairs.

Obi-Wan laughed soundlessly as he was dragged along. He’d always assumed Anakin would be pleased to never have to listen to him again. There was something amusing, darkly, about Anakin’s drive to return his voice.

Perhaps it was only because he hadn’t yet heard Obi-Wan screaming.

Nor would he, even if Obi-Wan’s voice were returned. Those thoughts chased each other around Obi-Wan’s head as they got closer and closer to the medbay. He hung between Cody and Booster, too damaged to walk under his own power, his legs giving finally halfway down the hall.

And it was a surprise, strange and jarring, when Cody hesitated and then shifted, movements oddly fluid for how stiff he normally moved, and just… lifted him. Cody had carried him off of battlefields before, too many times.

He’d joked, towards the end of the war, that it was getting to be a habit.

Perhaps it had. Perhaps it was muscle memory, the way Cody just pulled him up. It certainly was habit that had Obi-Wan dropping his head onto Cody’s shoulder, taking comfort in the familiarity of the contact, his eyes burning, all at once.

He wept not in front of Anakin. Wouldn’t. But the tears streaked down his face, unheeded, as Cody carried him into the medbay, finger tapping erratically against Obi-Wan’s skin. And Obi-Wan wanted to tell him it was alright, that Obi-Wan would find a way to get them all free, but he had no voice, no way to speak the words into being.

#whumptober #no.24 #forced mutism #clone wars #fic #non-con #non-explicit #branding #strangulation #torture #my writing #oof!au #codywan #vaderwan #troopers trying very hard to wake up

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bb8sworld · 4 years

Text

— litoreus, part i

pairing: god of the sea!obi-wan kenobi x reader

word count: 7k (*sweats nervously*)

a/n: greetings, and welcome to the first part of my new series! i don’t know how better to summarize this story than by saying that kara (@karasong) said “neptune is a dilf” then val (@milleniumvalcon) said a statue of poseidon looked like obi-wan, and it spiraled from there. so many thanks to the discord for the idea of this poseidon!obi au.

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Destiny. Fate. Will. Luck. Fortune. Chance. Predestination.

Words Obi-Wan Kenobi was intimately familiar with in a multitude of different tongues, languages, dialects, and scripts. Words that have altered in connotation throughout history but have remained steadfast in their use. Words that he didn’t believe in but knew nonetheless. As someone who has been around as long as he has, and as someone who knows the inner workings of the universe and was created shortly after it’s conception, he’s aware that the ideas of Fate and Destiny were innately… human. Something clung onto by ordinary people who dwelled on the Earth and needed reassurance for an occurrence in their lives or ideas blamed for any wrongdoing that came their way.

No, Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t believe in Fate, Destiny, Fortune, or whatever other terms may be used to describe these phenomena. Everything had an order, everything had a purpose, and things didn’t happen “by chance” or “just because.” They happened because they were supposed to, not because some outside force separate from the godly beings decided to intervene. As a godly being himself, he thinks he would know if there were outside forces beyond him and his fellow gods having any say in the universe.

One of the many perks of being a god, he supposed.

Being a god was tricky business, and it was a job that often didn’t pay in kind. From his very creation, Obi-Wan had struggled with this role of his, from who he was, who he was meant to be, and how he was supposed to act.

Despite being named Obi-Wan Kenobi upon “birth,” he has gone by a plethora of different names throughout his immortal life thus far—such as Olokun, Lir, Hapi, Poseidon, Neptune, Enbilulu, and Njord, just to name a few. So many names to describe one being who ruled, guarded, and protected the seas and oceans. Each one attuned to the civilization in which the name originated from, but all converging together to describe the same god. And from it came an outpouring of love and awe. It was flattering, to say the least, that humans at one point cared so much about him that they would craft pieces of artwork dedicated to him. Or how they would construct temples of worship for him so that they might have a place to pray for safe voyages, either for themselves or loved ones. It made him feel good and loved and appreciated and a whole litany of positive affirmations that humans use to describe this gooey feeling nestled within him.

Obi-Wan loved to help humanity and had always been infatuated with them—their cultures, lifestyles, relationships, emotions, everything. And any time he helped, he got to learn a little bit more about what made humans so human. Sometimes when he did intervene in their matters and was praised for it, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it felt like to be human. To be loved, appreciated, adored, wanted.

But being a god wasn’t always so pleasant and flattering.

Sometimes, if a storm churned in the ocean and caused a shipwreck, his name would be cursed at in such hatred and despair as grief overtook the humans. It stung and was incredibly painful to hear, but unfortunately, he didn’t always have control over those situations. Whenever this happened, he would wonder if the feelings he felt were the same ones humans did in response to these occurrences—unloved, hated, disgusted, guilty, remorseful.

Obi-Wan really, truly wanted to take suffering away from the very humans who had fascinated him for centuries, but that’s not the way the universe works. Matters of life and death were not his jurisdiction, even if either of these happened in the blue waves below. It fell to the god of the underworld who was the overseer of death, so therefore Obi-Wan’s hands were tied. He only had control over the voyage's journey, not the destination of the passengers, meaning he was often forced to watch as lives were taken at sea and his name was sworn against in wrath.

But like with all things brought to the attention of humanity, people move on. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, as times changed and new beliefs gained traction, that meant humans moved on from their old ways and religions—from the other gods and from him.

Despite his presence once being well-known and called upon in times of need and worship and gratitude, his importance dwindled in the eyes of the humans until he was all but nonexistent. His very being and all his life’s work were boiled down to a name that was somehow both him yet not him, written offhandedly in a history textbook for children to be aware of for a test but to forget immediately afterward. His life became a story sometimes told in a mythology book or two, often censored and abridged for audiences to “understand better.” He became a name people were familiar with but knew little about.

And so humanity had moved on from him, but he hadn’t moved on from humanity.

He was still endlessly intrigued by everything they were about and everything they had to offer, but because of his godly status, he never dared to go down and explore for himself, despite other gods having done so for one reason or another. And every day he was a little more tempted to go down and see what was new and exciting. Every time he saw another god leave to head down, he got a little bit closer to asking if he could join.

That being said, he did stay connected where he could. Throughout all of human history, art had been made in his name, and sometimes he would clear his mind and connect to those works as he did back in the ancient days and listen in on what was being said. Sometimes he caught snippets of stories from those who stood nearby. Sometimes he heard tales of his own life being taught to a younger generation in museums. But it had been a long time since he heard anyone talk to him. And despite his lack of belief in Fate or Destiny or whatever you wanted to call it, he couldn’t help but wish for the times to change and for one person to talk to him instead of about him. He wished that someone would answer his pathetic call and just talk to him.

So imagine his surprise when one day someone picked up.

At first, he thought it to be an accident. No way had someone genuinely believed he was real and manifested the powers to protect them when they traveled at sea, nor had someone directly contacted him in years for any reason. With all the new methods of transportation and exploration in the seas and oceans, most people went on those devices willingly without saying a quick prayer to him for the waters to be safe. Which was fine, really. He knew his place. Doesn’t mean he didn’t feel a little pang of hurt every time he saw a cruise ship head out or people go boating or children learn how to canoe.

But no… this call was different. It wasn’t a history lesson, or someone singing to themselves near a statue of him, or just some background clutter. No, this one felt different. And so, Obi-Wan sat on the floor of his room, closed his eyes, and began to slip into a meditative state in order to hear the call better.

“—maybe… we hang the light a foot more to the right? And tilt it just a tiny bit backward… there. Perfect! Look at you, Poseidon—or do you prefer Neptune—whatever, it doesn’t matter. But look at you, all cleaned up, restored, illuminated, and ready to go on display when the exhibit opens tomorrow. Let’s hope the visitors appreciate you in your polished state. Are you ready?”

Ah, so a new exhibit was going up featuring, presumably, a statue of him made by one of the ancient Greeks or Romans he oversaw so many centuries ago. He was about to tune out the voice and slip out of his meditative state when the voice picked up again.

“—god I must sound crazy. Just look at me, talking to a statue of a god who doesn’t even exist.” A beat. “I wish you did though, you seem like you’d be better company than some of the other people around here. Wishful thinking, eh, Neptune? Or… Poseidon… ugh, this is what happens when it’s an ancient Greek and Roman exhibit, there are too many double names—”

And off the voice went on a tangent about finishing up illuminating each of the iconic pieces of artwork and organizing pamphlets about the new exhibit in the information stands. From the sounds of it, the person behind the voice presumably worked at some museum where a new exhibit of him and the other gods in his life was being put together.

Maybe… maybe he could go down and visit it sometime. At least to see the art he hadn’t seen in many years. And if he happened to stumble across the worker with the voice he just tuned into, then he’d consider that a happy accident despite that very claim going against his beliefs about Fate. But how could he head down from his home in the clouds without raising suspicion among the other gods? He was notorious for keeping his distance once humanity forgot him, instead preferring to observe from afar and rejecting any offers to head down to the land.

The answer came in the form of Anakin Skywalker—also known as Camulus, Svetovid, Teutates, Ares, Mars, Odin, and Montu, to name a few—the god of war and the manifestation of the spirit of battle. He was a frequent visitor of the land and was undoubtedly Obi-Wan’s best friend. Not to mention, he regularly asked Obi-Wan to join him in hopes of getting him “out of his hermit lifestyle and back to the land of the living,” to quote Anakin, but Obi-Wan had either made excuses or flat out rejected his offer. But maybe it was high time he said yes.

With his plan in mind, now all he had to do was wait for Anakin to approach him and ask. And sure enough, just a few earth days later, Anakin showed up outside of Obi-Wan’s room with a cheeky smile on his face and a “ready to be done with being a recluse?” comment as expected. And though Anakin wouldn’t ever admit it to Obi-Wan’s face, Obi-Wan could see the true concern reflecting in his eyes alongside the expectation of getting rejected. Typically, there would be a pain in his eyes following each rejection, likely stemming from the wedge that sat between them because, for all that they were best friends—brothers even—they didn’t always see eye-to-eye on godly matters. From this came the worry that always sat at the corner of every conversation because Obi-Wan (admittedly so) had been self-isolating from humanity and became a stickler for following the rules of the gods. Contrast that to Anakin who was laxer in his ways and open to embracing his feelings and attachments.

But that concern and pain would end today. Obi-Wan was tired of feeling sorry for himself and hiding away up here and being lonely despite never actually being alone.

He was ready for adventure again.

And so, it was with a resounding sigh and faked exasperation that he said, “Oh, alright.”

If he took a little pleasure in being able to cause such a shocked facial expression on Anakin’s face, then that was for him to know. Though, it was a moment later when Anakin’s face split into a wide grin that he felt any lingering doubts about going down to earth dissipate. Yes, this was the right choice. If not for himself, then for his relationship with Anakin.

The act of getting down to earth was a rather easy task consisting of exiting through a golden archway that teleported them to a location of their choosing. Obi-Wan hopped on Anakin’s coordinates and the two reappeared in a forest Obi-Wan was unfamiliar with, the lights and sounds of a nearby town being their guide on the trek.

Before stepping into the hustle and bustle of the town, Anakin and Obi-Wan had “normalized” themselves from their usual glowing, almost angelic appearance into something more humane and easily looked over, particularly nondescript and unassuming, using the powers they possessed. The less attention they brought to themselves, the better. It was safer not to risk the chance of revealing themselves. Back in historic and ancient times, it was more common for them to fall into crowds of people undercover and interact, getting to know and understand the circumstances humanity faced up close and personal instead of from a distance. But that had all changed once Obi-Wan, Anakin, and the fellow gods above all became characters in a history book.

Nonetheless, Obi-Wan treasured this one act of using his powers for fun instead of remaining dormant and simply controlling the seas in the same patterns and cycles. He looked over at Anakin, wanting to see if he was ready to head into the streets, when he was surprised to see Anakin’s eyes already looking his way, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, exasperation smothering the very word, “What is it?”

“Finally decided on getting a haircut?” Anakin replied, laughter playing on the edge of the question. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the question. Yes, usually when he came down to earth he sported a longer hairstyle—a godly mullet, as Anakin oh so lovingly called it, business in the front and the only fun you know how to have in the back—but times had changed, and Obi-Wan had figured it was time for him to as well, at least a little bit. So he did. It was less of a haircut and more of the decision to manifest with shorter hair, unlike a certain someone standing next to him who had apparently decided the opposite.

“Strong words coming from someone who’s sporting a mullet themselves,” he quipped back, turning his attention forward and beginning the trek to the town. Affronted was the only word to describe how Anakin reacted, cemented in his shock, before he shook out of his state and rushed to catch up with his friend, secretly happy to see Obi-Wan engaging in their familiar back-and-forth.

“It is not a mullet, Obi-Wan,” Anakin refuted. “It’s stylish and helps me blend in.”

Obi-Wan gives a quiet hmm in acknowledgment before replying, “Whatever you say, Anakin.”

And so the trek continued until they found themselves in a bustling town with car horns honking, people shoving themselves through crowds, and bright lights illuminating around them. It was both entirely overwhelming yet hauntingly intriguing. For as much as he wanted to look away from the circus before him, Obi-Wan couldn’t stop admiring and absorbing all the information thrown at him. Of course he was aware of how the earth and humanity had progressed from his perch in the clouds, but while it’s one thing to hear and know of something, it’s another thing to witness and experience that which you had heard so much about.

Through his daze, he’s just barely able to keep up with Anakin as they take to the sidewalks, Anakin walking in an apparent familiar cadence as if he already knows where he’s heading and knows the trek well. Perhaps there’s a destination Anakin frequents on his jaunts down to earth? Maybe Obi-Wan should’ve asked what Anakin had in mind before he agreed to this excursion, but it’s too little too late for that now. But still, asking the destination of their slightly fast walking couldn’t hurt, right?

“You know, Anakin,” he starts, “You never told me where you were intending for us to go today.”

“Oh,” Anakin flounders for a moment, as if not expecting the question. Curious. “I, uh, well I figured we’d go to the local art museum.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan is unconvinced, but plays along anyway, only the slightest bit of suspicion seeping into his tone.

“Well… I know you love learning and appreciating the more—how do you phrase it?—refined and civilized things in life,” Anakin jokes, “So I figured we could go to an art museum together.”

Well wasn’t that just the shock of the century. Art museums were far from Anakin’s usual environment. Why? Anakin was loud, brash, and impulsive, constantly itching to go out and meet action head-on, act now think later, a complete contrast to the usually quiet, serene, and contemplative nature that art museums held dear. And for all that Obi-Wan loved Anakin, there were certain environments he would never dare to be with him, art museums being one of them. But, considering Obi-Wan had agreed to join and Anakin actually seemed somewhat eager to go, he figured he could indulge Anakin just this once.

Besides, Obi-Wan figured there must’ve been some ulterior motive at play here, and if he played his cards right, he could figure it out.

“An art museum?” he asks casually, hoping maybe he’ll get a hint of this mysterious motive.

But Anakin immediately picks up on the slight curiosity in his words. “Yeah, why? You don’t want to go?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind going, I just didn’t know you’d be interested in that.”

“Well, people change, Obi-Wan. Maybe I’ve taken a page from your book and learned how to be stuffy and grandfatherly.”

Rude, Obi-Wan muses, but an unlikely story. He leaves it at that and instead asks Anakin what else he had on the itinerary for the day as they walk toward the museum. Apparently, the art museum is the highlight of the day, though Anakin does promise that if Obi-Wan would be open to indulging in human food—something that honestly means nothing to them because they can’t be satisfied on non-godly food—there’s a cafe not too far from the museum that they can hang out and people watch at. All-in-all, not a bad day. Could’ve been way worse given how differently he and Anakin define “a fun day out.”

Eventually, they do make it to the art museum in one piece, and Obi-Wan immediately takes note of how quaint it looks against the glamour of the surrounding town. Less bright colors and flashes of light on the exterior but still a commanding presence with its masonry that almost demands you to look at it and compels you to go inside.

They stand in the queue to get tickets and go inside, but once they do, Anakin starts walking off before Obi-Wan can even grab a map of the museum. He manages to snag one and just barely finds Anakin in the crowd of the entry foyer, leaving Obi-Wan to trail behind a couple of feet once he catches up as Anakin guides him to the Medieval and Renaissance art exhibit. They’re only a few feet inside the exhibit when someone calls out “Ani!” and the two whip their heads around in-sync to the sound of the voice, a chorus of shushing surrounding them.

It’s a short woman who approaches the pair, a charming smile on her lips and a glint in her eyes. She immediately goes to embrace Anakin and Obi-Wan thinks: ah, ulterior motive discovered. He looks at her professional attire, the low but elegant bun her brown hair is in, and the name tag he just barely caught a glimpse of and easily deduces that she must be a staff member here. Maybe once the two finally release each other Obi-Wan can say his greetings and find out more.

Luckily, she seems to be the sensible one between the two and releases Anakin after making eye contact with Obi-Wan, as if just now realizing that Anakin came with company. She tries to be blasé about the overly friendly interaction with Anakin by plowing forward in her introduction, holding her hand out for a handshake. Very interesting, indeed.

“I’m Padmé Amidala, one of the curators for this exhibit in the museum. You must be one of Anakin’s friends,” she greets. Obi-Wan takes her hand and gives it a slight shake. Her grip is firm but not tight, giving just enough of her away for him to understand that she is a person to be respected and in awe of but not feared. It’s easy to begin understanding how her dynamic with Anakin works.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Oh, so you’re the famous Obi-Wan. Anakin has told me so much about you.” Obi-Wan gives a side-eyed glance to Anakin, noting the innocent expression he wears and wondering just how much he’s revealed to Padmé.

“Interesting, he hasn’t mentioned you at all,” Obi-Wan responds, giving them both a teasing smile in some semblance of reassurance that he isn’t offended by this fact.

However, Obi-Wan can feel the lingering hesitation and slight nerves radiating off of Anakin, which is an unsurprising development. Gods aren’t meant to have deep bonds with humans. Loose friendships are typically accepted with only slight frowns, but once it strays into a tight-knit bond and attachments form, especially romantic ones, they’re frowned upon greatly. And between the two of them, Anakin is less of a stickler for the rules, instead preferring to live by his own interpretations and caveats to the rules—which means Obi-Wan knows that Anakin fears this friendship of his with Padmé will be scrutinized and berated.

Which… okay, is a valid concern considering Obi-Wan’s devotion to the rules, but Obi-Wan hates to be a snitch on his best friend. And as long as he doesn’t witness any actions that would confirm a more serious relationship, particularly romantic, Obi-Wan is willing to turn his eye to the obvious heart eyes and lingering touches the two share. Can’t tattle if there’s room for doubt and question.

He just hopes Anakin knows this himself. And he especially hopes that Anakin hasn’t told Padmé that he’s a god.

He decides to shake off these thoughts and turn the conversation to safer territory to try and ease Anakin some. “So, Padmé, I take it you work here. What is it that you do?”

Immense relief hits him like a tidal wave from Anakin with happiness trailing behind like seafoam as the wave recedes. Not wanting to make any open comments about Anakin’s feelings and potentially clue Padmé into their more than human nature, he settles for a quick moment of eye contact before focusing back on Padmé.

“I’m one of the museum curators here,” she confirms, “I mainly specialize with art in the Medieval and Renaissance exhibit as well as our Impressionist pieces.” She pauses to size him up, silently scrutinizing him and his reactions. Whatever it is she finds must satisfy her, because she continues as if nothing happened, “Have you been here before, Obi-Wan? We recently got some new pieces on loan from some collectors and other museums that are worth checking out.”

“This is my first time, actually,” Obi-Wan starts before Anakin jumps in, quick on his verbal heels, “Right! And I was going to show him around. Make sure he visits the highlights at least.”

Instantly Padmé’s face drops ever so slightly at the idea of this conversation ending and her parting from Anakin, but she composes herself well. But Obi-Wan would be blind not to notice Anakin’s disappointment too, so he decides to take matters into his own hands and says, “Though I’m more than capable of wandering on my own if you’d rather stay and chat with Padmé, Anakin.”

“Are you sure, Obi-Wan? I was the one who invited you out after all—”

“Nonsense, I’ll be more than fine on my own. Maybe then I’ll actually get to appreciate the art and read the descriptions like the grandfather you think I am,” he jokes. “I’ll meet you back by the entrance in a couple hours. Pleasure meeting you, Padmé, I hope we meet again soon.”

And just like that, Obi-Wan is off and he no longer has to be surrounded by the obvious desire for something more between the two that was only stifled from being acted on by his presence. When he’s a good distance away, he decides to stop for a moment and actually look at the map in his hand, and he’s pleasantly surprised by just how many exhibits, art movements, and cultural regions are housed in this art museum. With the knowledge that he may not be able to knock out every exhibit in one visit, he decides to make his rounds to the ones that intrigue him the most.

He starts in the African Art section, admiring the ceramics and textiles created in various regions of Africa, before moving onto the Chinese bronzes, ceramics, and jades exhibition and it’s next-door Japanese screens and paintings exhibit. He’s thinking of swinging to modern and contemporary works when he looks at the map in his hands and eyes the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit, reluctance setting in. Obi-Wan always feels a bit of hesitancy whenever admiring ancient creations because he remembers who the artists were and that fact makes him feel old and worn down in ways he never expected gods to feel like. Besides, wouldn’t it be narcissistic of himself to go and admire the times of old and perhaps even stumble upon a work of him?

Caution thrown to the wind, Obi-Wan decides to make his way to the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit. With his head held high, he spots the tall glass doors to the exhibit and opens them slowly before stepping inside and almost immediately being hit by a whirlpool of nostalgia. Just seeing the vases, plates, coins, cups, relics, and statues on display make him nearly stumble on his feet. The faces staring back at him on the head busts by the entrance are so eerily similar to those of his friends that he feels his breathing stutter for a moment. It’s true that back in those times the gods were more… open to visiting earth. Back then they were more willing and able to interact with humanity and be treated kindly in return. Though, the stories of their escapades and interactions always seemed to be skewed and embellished among all civilizations.

But one thing that transpires over almost every civilization who ever believed in the gods and goddess that Obi-Wan is connected to is that they managed to nail one key feature of the gods in their stories: their extremities. Because at the end of the day, that’s what the gods all were—the best and worst of humanity, but maximized.

Obi-Wan prefers not to think about that fact and how, subsequently, he feels more than humans do and also has an awareness for the feelings of the other gods.

No, best not to dwell on that.

He decides that perhaps it’s best to move beyond the entryway and stop clogging up the doorway with his presence, so he begins to move through the exhibit, stopping every now and then to admire a certain work of art. By the time he’s gone through about half the exhibit, the sting of seeing those he knows etched onto bronze or marble is hurting less; he’s thinking he can finally start to appreciate the art more when he hears a voice.

But it’s not just any voice, it’s a voice he recognizes. And it’s not Anakin, nor is it Padmé. It’s a voice he’s heard before but he doesn’t know the person it belongs to. It’s familiar enough that he clings to it, scrambling through past and recent memories until finally it clicks:

The voice he’s hearing is the voice that recently talked to him via one of the statues commemorated in his honor.

And just like that, he turns his head around and begins to look around for the source. It’s like he’s a ship lost at sea and this voice is his guiding light home, if only he could find it. It takes a couple more seconds before finally his gaze settles on you, and it’s as if sunlight just burst into the room. He notices your eyes first and the way they shimmer with happiness as you wander through the exhibit, admiring the artworks yourself. But then he catches your smile as you turn to talk to one of the nearby patrons and the very sight of it makes him feel as if the world has just opened wide, opportunities he’s never considered laying out on many paths before him.

He takes a moment to shake himself out of his daze to properly take in your appearance. Judging on your outfit and the name tag that he just barely can’t make out and read, you are obviously a worker here, perhaps a curator like Padmé. You’re wandering the exhibit with an air of pride surrounding you, as if you’re happy that so many people are taking the time to come and appreciate the art before them. Everything about you is intriguing and he wants to introduce himself to you before this high feeling surrounding him comes crashing down and he goes back up to the clouds to spend out his immortal days alone and separated again from humanity.

Just as he’s about to take a few steps in your direction, he feels a harsh force of another body hit him in the side, nearly sending him toppling over onto a head bust next to him. He’s bracing for impact, praying that this piece of art somehow is a counterfeit and doesn’t cost more than he can even fathom (seriously, exactly how bad is inflation right now?) when he feels hands on his shoulders that push him back onto his feet. His hands immediately latch onto the ones grabbing him as he steadies himself. One he’s back on solid ground, he looks up to go thank whoever caught him when his heart leaps to his throat and he momentarily stops breathing because who else would be his savior than his guiding light?

He barely has time to even admire your speed and strength before you’re talking to him.

“Are you okay?” you ask and oh how he wants to hear more and more and more of your angelic voice. It’s as if you’re a siren, tempting him closer and closer to you until finally he is caught in your eyes and dancing among the many stars that twinkle in them. But suddenly he flushes with the realization that he’s been staring way too long and oh dear this is quite a messy first impression he really needs to redeem himself with something coherent and get this boat sailing back on course—

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah. Fine. I’m fine. Never better, truly.” Shipwreck. What an utter shipwreck this is for him. Maker, he’s making a fool of himself. Amid his internal despair, he hears you giggle at his fumbling and his heart starts beating faster.

“Poseidon right?”

And suddenly his heart stops, his mouth drops every so slightly, and his face whitens. How have you possibly figured him out so quickly?

“What?” Is about all he can muster in response.

“Or Neptune, I guess, depending on which you prefer.” He’s silent. Awestruck. But you must pick up on the confusion and awe on his face because you elaborate, “You know… the sculpture right over there? The big marble one with a man holding a trident? The one you were staring at before you nearly crashed into this poor head bust of Zeus and broke this priceless piece of historic artwork? Really, what did the poor guy ever do to you? Surely he doesn’t deserve his head getting cracked open a second time.”

Oh thank the Maker, you were just referring to the art in the room. Which perhaps he should’ve accounted for instead of internally freaking out because he did willingly enter the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit of the museum.

But you take his silent relief as continued confusion because you are suddenly rambling, “You know, because Zeus already had his head cracked open once by Hephaestus after Zeus swallowed a pregnant Metis and gave birth to Athena through his forehead?” You laugh awkwardly before plowing on, “Maybe I should stop talking now, sorry, sometimes I just go off about all these old myths, I just think they’re fascinating and—sorry, I’m doing it again aren’t I?”

He laughs in response to your weak joke and hearty explanation, and he starts to feel a little less wound up and nervous when he notices that you’re feeling the same way.

“No, no, it’s alright! It was very clever. Funny too,” he comments. The two of you share a smile and simply stare into each others’ eyes for a couple moments. But then he begins to worry that he’s making you uncomfortable by maintaining eye contact for longer than normal—except what is “normal”? How much has human etiquette changed since he’d last been on earth? Is this conversation already doomed? He decides to take the gamble anyway and clears his throat as his eyes flicker around the exhibit, trying to think of what else to say to you, before he lands on your name tag (what a pretty name you have) and he says the first thought that comes to mind.

“So, you work here then?” Not the best conversation starter, but it’s something, he supposes. Maker, what is wrong with him? He’s never been so nervous in his entire immortal life, but one conversation with you and suddenly he’s falling victim to all the nerves and anxieties of humans, but dialed up beyond a 10. Gods really are the maximization of humanity’s best and worst. What an awful time to be living this fact. Thankfully, you respond and break him out of his spiraling worries.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been working here for the past couple of years as one of the curators. I actually worked on this exhibit. I helped organize and select all the pieces in the exhibit, arrange restorations and displays, and record all the art you see here. I’ll admit it’s rather hard selecting which art pieces would fit best with the message we’re trying to convey, not to mention the availability of many pieces of art also plays a difficult role, but I like to think it paid off in the end. There’s something special about all the pieces of art here,” you suddenly pause in your speech before walking over to the very Poseidon statue you thought Obi-Wan had been looking at earlier, and he follows, quick on your heels.

You continue, “Like, this statue of Poseidon, for example. It traveled through an ocean of time, across several continents, through several restorations, all to be right here, right now, in this very moment for you and I to admire.” You let out a sigh that Obi-Wan can only describe as wistful. “I can only wonder how it looked when the artist was creating it and when it was first unveiled.”

He wishes how he could tell you about when he first laid eyes on this statue of himself he had nearly burst into tears, sending a light rain over the agora from the intensity of his emotions. But he suppresses the urge. He wasn’t supposed to reveal himself to humanity, and even if he did let something slip, what are the odds that you’d ever believe him? The two of you are not close, and you never will be. His livelihood as a god forbids it.

Still…

There’s something about the sparkle in your eye as you wistfully look at the art, as if looking at it for the first time despite having seen it countless times before, and your passion for the ancient classics that he finds compelling. Initial literal-sweeping-off-his-feet encounter aside, there’s something about you that draws him to you.

You’re entirely intriguing to him, and he can’t quite pinpoint why. Not entirely, at least. It doesn’t hurt that he finds your ramblings of history and art to be adorable. Not that he’s admitting to anything more than simple infatuation at first sight. He wishes he had the chance to get to know you better beyond the confines of this Ancient Greek and Roman exhibit. But the two of you lead entirely different lives and he has to let this go.

But, he can allow himself this one instance of normal human interaction.

“I’m sure it must have been a sight to behold given how important the gods were to the Ancient Greeks and Romans,” he comments.

“Exactly!” Despite being a curator here and knowing the rules of the exhibits like the back of your hand, you are shushed by a nearby patron at your happy exclamation. Obi-Wan laughs softly at the embarrassed look on your face.

“Guess that’s my cue to switch topics,” you joke. Obi-Wan smiles kindly at you before you continue, “Basics then. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it,” he winks at your unimpressed look. Luckily for him though, it cracks and transforms into a brilliant smile as the two of you share a laugh. No harm done.

“Okay, smartass, I’ll rephrase: what’s your name?” you ask. “Not all of us are lucky enough to talk with people who wear name tags.”

“Alright then, since you asked so nicely, I’m Obi-Wan. And it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out a hand for you, which you easily take and give a shake. A slight zing runs through his body at the slight contact, his hand still buzzing even after you two let go.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. Is this your first time here?” you inquire.

“Ah, yes, my friend decided to take me,” Obi-Wan starts, but he can’t help but grumble out, “I think he’s a frequent visitor.”

You let out a giggle at his grumpy tone. “You make it seem as if that’s a bad thing. Surely it’s not that god-awful here?”

“The company sure makes it better,” slips out before he can catch the words, but he’s not blind to the pleased look on your face. Huh. Interesting. “I never thought he was interested in art museums but—”

“Obi-Wan!” Cuts through the air, loud and brash and diluted with the slightest hint of concern, immediately followed by shushing by other patrons. Obi-Wan sighs as he recognizes the voice of Anakin.

“—it would appear that he still hasn’t picked up on museum etiquette despite all those visits.”

You rub his arm gently, a look of playful sympathy on your face as you tell him, “How awful it must be to have a friend that cares about your whereabouts.”

But he’s suddenly finding it very hard to even pretend to be annoyed when you’re touching him with such care. All too soon, your hand is off his arm as Anakin makes himself known, sidling up right to Obi-Wan and immediately grasping his elbow.

“Where on earth were you? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago. I waited for you! And here I was thinking you were the responsible one—” Anakin is cut off by you attempting to diffuse the situation.

“I believe that’s my fault. I kept him here talking to me and I held him up,” you turn back to Obi-Wan, a bright smile on your lips and the stars twinkling once more in your eyes. Maker, if he didn’t know any better he really would think he was looking at the sun, his beacon of light. “It was lovely talking to you, Obi-Wan. Maybe you could come again soon and we can continue this conversation?”

“Of course.” It’s his automatic response, no thoughts, questions, or worries in mind. You just look so hopeful and he’s once again a ship in the night, setting out to sail the high seas but hoping to return to again safely, guided by your light. He can only hope Anakin doesn’t pick up on his infatuation with you.

“Great! I’ll let you two go then. Nice meeting you!” And just like the wind, you’re gone, moving on to other patrons and other works of art, sharing your knowledge and stories and passion with other lucky souls. Maybe he will come back.

“They seemed nice,” Anakin remarks with absolutely no subtly.

“I’m not sure what you think happened between us, but whatever it is, you’re wrong,” and with that Obi-Wan turns and begins walking out of the exhibit before Anakin can refute or comment on Obi-Wan’s building anxiety, giving him no choice but to follow.

The walk out of the museum, their time sitting and people watching at a nearby cafe, and the walk back to the forested area follow a similar pattern: Anakin trying to do some digging with heavy insinuations, Obi-Wan denying vehemently any theories and offering scant details, and neither one willing to back down from their stance. It’s an old familiar rhythm, and despite it being grating at times, it’s nice to feel a sense of normalcy with Anakin once more.

Eventually, they make it back up to their hidden sanctuary in the sky and part ways for the day. Once back in his dwelling, Obi-Wan sits down on a cushioned chair and mulls over his day. While going to the museum was fun and enlightening, his mind wanders back to a certain museum curator. The dark horse of the day. The unexpected detail. His beacon of light.

There’s something more to you, something he wants so desperately to know. He practically itches to go back to the museum and keep talking with you. You’re intelligent, beautiful, and humorous. You’re the sun, moon, and stars. He knows he can’t pursue a romantic relationship with you, and he knows friendships with humans are frowned upon if they get too close, but he reasons to himself that one more visit down to earth to speak with you wouldn’t hurt anyone. With this in mind, he closes his eyes and begins to reach out to see if he can hear you once again, but as he’s doing so, a realization dawns on him.

Meeting you is the closest he’s come to believing in Fate, and despite this going against his beliefs, he’s ready to set sail on this unknown voyage and see where your next meeting takes him.

#so that was a doozy... good grief but i hope it's worth it #i usually don't do taglists but lemme know if you want to be tagged in future parts #because i don't have a schedule soooo #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars one shots #obi wan kenobi #my writing #userkarina #yes a lot of the godly traits were inspired by disney's hercules bc i am basic

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

Summary: Statement of Shmi Skywalker regarding the conception of the entity known as Anakin Skywalker, former Research Assistant of the Jedi Order. Original statement given on March 15th, 7935 C.R.C. Audio recording by Obi-Wan Kenobi, Archivist of the Jedi Order, Coruscant. AN: I listened to The Magnus Archives for 5 hours straight at work. Read on AO3!

It has been three months since Sidious' full awakening and Anakin’s subsequent disappearance. There have been no signs of either and our research into their whereabouts turns up nothing. Ahsoka has been looking through Anakin’s old notes - his handwriting atrocious as ever - but... there is nothing to be found in his terror-stricken ramblings that would explain why he went with Sidious. Why didn’t he just talk to us? I thought he knew he could trust us, I told him I lo-

It doesn’t matter. This is not what this recording is about.

...

I believe I have found evidence as to why Sidious was so keen on keeping Anakin by his side. We have known for a while that Anakin is different, the Mortis files certainly pointed us in the right direction when it came to that but I had honestly given up on finding something more concrete, but what we dug out of the archive… It’s- I don’t know what I expected. Anakin made a joke once about his mother. It was the only time I heard him speak of his early childhood and her in a way that was not filled with adoration. But he was drunk at the time and we were... occupied with other things, later. In any case. I found a recording that sheds some light on it. So here we go.

Statement of Shmi Skywalker regarding the conception of the entity known as Anakin Skywalker, former Research Assistant of the Jedi Order. Original statement given on March 15th, 7935 C.R.C. Audio recording by Obi-Wan Kenobi, Archivist of the Jedi Order, Coruscant.

I apologize for my shaky handwriting but Anakin is teething - again - and is a little fussy because of it. I’m not quite sure as to the structure of this statements or where I should begin. In my childhood perhaps where I already felt the weight of what you, Master Jinn, told me is the Force. It was always there, whispering in my ear, telling me where to go or what to do. I always thought of it as instinct, that I was reassuring myself.

I never doubted this either until I got pregnant with Anakin.

The first thing you should know is that I am well aware of what state I was in when I noticed the pregnancy. I was a slave and I know there are several ways of wiping away entire years from my mind, but this wasn’t the case. My owner at the time didn’t have the kind of technology for it. Nobody messed with my mind and I know I didn’t sleep with anybody. I was just pregnant someday. I know how incredible it sounds, my Master certainly didn’t believe me, but she also didn’t care given she’d just get another slave out of it. I was shocked when I realized I was pregnant, terrified, but… It wasn’t for myself, not really. I knew I was safe. I don’t know how well you can emphasize, but you are never safe as a slave and yet I felt as if nothing could hurt me. After a series of events of which I don’t know whether the Force influenced them or not, I was made free. I was still stuck on Tatooine, still in the slave quarters because I couldn’t find any other housing, but I was free – and so was Anakin.

The pregnancy itself was quite easy on me actually. I had no health problems, if anything, I felt better than I had in years. No, the real change were my nights. I have always dreamed, but never like this. I felt like I was stuck in a memory that was not mine, forced to watch a fate I couldn’t understand. I saw so much fire and felt…

The statement becomes illegible here. It picks up again after a few paragraphs.

I am afraid of what it will mean for Anakin’s future. He is such a bright child, even if not entirely human as you must have noticed by now. I don’t mean that he is another species, I mean that he is not mortal, he doesn’t exist on the same plain as we do. I know this sounds like the ravings of a mad woman, but I promise you, it is the truth. I mentioned before that he is teething again. It is the fourth time already. His teeth are much too sharp, like that of a predatory species and yet I have never seen him really use them on others. He… doesn’t eat. It scared me at first, I thought my baby was starving, but Anakin just kept on growing. Sometimes I thought I could see him bite into… something. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just there in the corner of my eyes, flickering. It was massive, dark and twisted. I could hear it scream in agony, an awful sound like a pitiful dying thing. When I could see Anakin bite into it, it was as if he tore out bits of flesh, leaving behind a bleeding wound and yet, whenever I turned, I saw nothing. Just Anakin, playing. There was no blood on the ground, no guts. Nothing. He's teething right now, so he isn't biting into anything and I can't show you... Not that I really think it would show up on a recording.

I know it should probably concern me more than it did, but I learned to accept this as another characteristic of my son and moved on. It wasn’t like that was the only strange thing. Anakin sometimes has more eyes than he should. The two blue ones always stay, but there also more in different colors. Gold, red, green… Sometimes he stares into nothing, but his glare is so intense that it doesn’t even look cute on a toddler. I just know that whatever he is perceiving is more than any other mortal can see. I know we are-

Statement ends. The flimsi has been ripped off here. What concerns me the most is the fact that Anakin never talked about any of this. We have lived side by side for years and until we began investigating the Ilum disappearances, Anakin had never shown any such powers or anything. He mostly talked about how loud the Force was becoming now. And then there is also that my Master apparently took Shmi Skywalker’s statement. He hadn’t behaved like he had known Anakin before we picked him up on Tatooine, Anakin hadn’t known him either. How is he involved in all of this? I wish he would have left me more than just a few notes to solve this puzzle. I can’t-

Obi-Wan, I just- Oh, you’re recording?

Yes, Ahsoka. Is there anything I can do for you?

No- nothing really. Sorry, I was just… It’s weird doing all this research without Anakin helping or pointing me in the right direction. Especially because it’s research about him. Do you think- do you think we’ll find him soon?

I hope so. And don’t beat yourself up over it, we’re doing all we can. I will finish this recording, and then I will join you.

Okay. Want a cup of tea?

That would be lovely.

…

Where was I? Right, Qui-Gon. He’s been dead for over ten years now and I still don’t know all his secrets. Shmi’s statement, however, has certainly confirmed that Anakin’s condition, whatever it actually is, hasn’t developed recently. It is something he was born with. While usually I am more skeptical about statements of such a nature… I saw him tear through the very fabric of our dimension, forcing open a doorway to nowhere. I don’t think I can afford to disregard anything when it comes to Anakin. I will attempt to track down the remainder of this statement. This one was buried deep in old research of Qui-Gon. He must have left a hint somewhere. I will find it, and we will bring Anakin back home.

Recording ends.

#star wars #obikin #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #shmi skywalker #fanfic

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lokiwritess · 4 years

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Frozen - Jesse

This is very heavy guys, please proceed with caution. Also I take no responsibility for typos because I WAS BAWLING while writing

Ever since the start of the war, if people asked you what you’d do if you lost the people closest to you, they would hear the answer: Hunt down whoever hurt them and bring them to justice.

You’d only been recently knighted then, put in charge for the very first time without your master hovering over your shoulder. And you’d always been fiercely protective of the ones you loved.

The start of the war seemed like an eternity ago.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

Because most of the people closest to you were, in fact, dead now. The person you loved reduced to a grave with his helmet on top of it. And you didn’t feel like you could hunt someone down if you tried.

No, your feet were frozen, stuck to the place where you stood. You couldn’t move. If you tried, you would shatter all over again.

The burning anger you’d imagined? It never came. The emotions you'd felt just hours before were gone. Everything was gone. You didn’t know who you were, what to do, or how to feel without breaking. The only thing you felt was breathtaking heartbreak.

You should’ve known that it would end that way. You should have protected yourself more.

No, you should have protected Jesse more.

Yeah, he did try to kill you, looking into your eyes as if he didn’t recognize you. But his death, that was on you as well. If you’d only looked out for him more. And you didn’t.

So now all that was left of him was a body, broken from the crash, in a grave on some moon you didn't know the name of. He deserved better than that. Better than you.

The pole with his helmet on that you had planted stood still. And so did you, as if you were made of stone, staring at the markings on the helmet.

Somewhere deep inside, you knew that there was nothing left for you. Your former master was dead, you’d felt that. Anakin was also dead, no matter how hard you tried to reach out for his presence in the force, you found nothing. The Jedi as a whole had ceased to exist in the short time of just a couple hours.

The dead were silent. You’d never hear their voices again, their laughter. You would never see Jesse smile again, a thought that ripped you apart. You felt like somewhere inside of you, something had been broken beyond repair, leaving pieces of yourself to bleed out quietly.

“Y/n?” Ahsoka’s voice was laced by her own sadness, barely loud enough for you to understand. But to your surprise, she wasn’t angry.

She should be. You’d been useless after your escape. You’d refused to listen to her, or Rex, just jumping headfirst into the hangar to find Jesse. You’d known the truth of his fate after the crash, but your composure as you recovered his body didn’t stay. Because once you had dug his grave, your feelings crashed down on you without mercy. You barely remembered running off, finding a spot somewhere else to scream and to cry and to throw up.

She was younger. You were supposed to be there for her, lead her. Yet you were no help. She’d be better off without you.

“I’m sorry, but we really can’t stay here any longer.”

“I can’t leave. I can’t. Just leave me here.”

Ahsoka carefully wrapped her arms around your middle. It was meant to be a comforting gesture but you barely felt the warmth of her skin. You were grateful though, grabbing onto her arm to return the try for comfort. For a while, she didn’t say anything. Maybe she was considering leaving you behind? She just stood there with you, her new cape shielding you from the nipping cold you hadn’t even noticed.

“I won’t leave you behind.”, she insisted, a sense of worry clear in her words.

“I can’t leave him Ahsoka.” You remained stubborn, voice cracking.

“I have no idea what you must feel like, but Jesse isn't here anymore. Standing here will change nothing. It's only going to get you killed as well. He wouldn’t want that.”

Hot tears dropped from your eyes, a harsh contrast to how cold your face felt. They mixed in with the tracks of old tears that you’d shed hours ago. Or was it days? Your throat closed uncomfortably as you tried to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Ahsoka. I should’ve done more- I should have-”

“This wasn’t your fault, Y/n. It was no-one's fault except for Darth Sidious. There was nothing any of us could have done.”

Ahsoka was right. Maybe, on a better day, you would know that to be the truth as well.

“We have to go.”

Every clone’s voice sounds the same, but not really. There’s something in the way they speak, the words they use, that makes it different. Rex meant well, you knew that. But you couldn’t help the shame you felt, because you hoped that it wasn’t him when you turned around. That it was Jesse. Rex was your friend, but you'd trade his life for Jesse's in a heartbeat. A fact which you hated yourself for even more.

Ahsoka gestured for Rex to wait at the ship. And then, she turned her eyes to the helmets once again, tightening her grip around you.

“He’s already gone, Y/n. You need to let him go.”

A sob freed itself from your lips, leaving you gasping for air. But you managed a weak nod. Without her, you wouldn’t have made it. Your eyes were trapped by the grave, trapped by the helmet. Ahsoka gently turned you around and sent you with Rex.

Every step hurt. Tore you apart further. Every muscle hurt.

As Ahsoka turned to go with you, the shimmer of something metal caught her eye. With a heavy heart, she noticed your lightsaber. Once shining a bright purple when ignited, the intricately assembled saber now rested on top of Jesse’s grave.

Ahsoka knew that you'd both have to leave your sabers behind, to make people believe you had truly died. But for you, she knew that it was more than that.

It was the truth. The person you were had died on that ship alongside Jesse. The Jedi you were, the person you were, was now forever in that grave with him.

#star wars imagine #star wars x reader #tcw #the clone wars #tcw spoilers #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #arc trooper jesse #arc trooper jesse imagine #arc trooper jesse x reader #jesse x reader #louistrying

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padme-parker · 4 years

Text

Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 5)

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: Anakin realizes that he is falling for you, hard. He doesn’t want to hurt Padme, so instead, he distances himself from you.

Warnings: a couple of curse words, mentions of cheating, my writing

WC: 2.3k

A/N: Initially this was supposed to be ch 4.5 cause I started writing this when I was halfway thru with the original ch 5. but shit happens so here we are. p.s. I pulled this out of my ass so sorry if its bad.

read chapter 4 here

“took a minute, but I figured it out. The problem with me is you.” - Problem With You by Sabrina Claudio

You practically bolted out of the ship once Anakin landed it, not wanting to face the consequences of your actions. It was stupid really, pining after someone you couldn’t have. I shouldn’t have reciprocated his kiss. The thought of it alone was selfish, stealing away the husband and soon-to-be father from Padme. Your task was to save the universe, by any means necessary. Well, Fury did suggest that I get close to him. But he also said to not do anything to drastically change their timeline. But it just doesn’t make sense. How was I supposed to befriend him without changing the timeline? For all I know, my arrival here has already severely altered their timeline.

You went to your room while Obi wan and Yoda went to a meeting, Anakin was nowhere to be found. You sat yourself on the edge of your bed, hands roughly combing through your hair. All you wanted for Anakin was from him to be happy. Of course, you could accept the fact that maybe it wouldn’t have anything to do with you, if only that were true. In the short time you’ve been on Coruscant, you’ve noticed something change in him. But you didn’t know him, the real him. The only version of him that you knew was the one that existed on screen; The one who loved his wife so much, that he turned his back on the ones he loved the most to save her. Only to ultimately lead her to her demise.

The Anakin you were getting to know was different, in a good way, yet he was still so complicated. After training, you would eat together, whether it was in the cantina or at Dex’s, it was always the two of you. Some nights, he would come to your room to talk. And you let him. You let him rant about how unfair the council was, the pressure of being the chosen one- whatever he had to say, you listened to him. He did his best to express his emotions to you, but still got overwhelmed by them. At times, neither of you knew what to do. So you both sat in a comfortable silence, the mere presence of each other was enough for the both of you. Sometimes the two of you sat outside of the temple, watching the sunset as the nightlife emerged. Other times you would sit outside in the garden, meditating together. You’ve gotten to see the side of Anakin that no one really knew. Well besides Obi wan, Ahsoka, and Padme. You have yet to meet Padme., only hearing whispers of her from the other Jedi.

While you did train under Obi wan and Anakin, you rarely got to see Ahsoka. After coming to Coruscant, she became Plo Koon’s temporary padawan so that Anakin didn’t have to train the two of you at the same time. Although it wasn’t the same as completely leaving the Jedi Order, you could tell how much it affected Anakin. As you sat on your bed you couldn’t help the question that came to your mind. When it comes down to it, will I be the reason he falls?

Anakin is already in the room when you show up for training. There are no remarks or comebacks made as the two of you prep, just pure silence. Silence, was something that you hated. It was different from the sunset-watching silence you always shared. This was tense, heavy, and just straight up unbearable. Your movements were awkward as you took out your lightsaber and got into a fighting stance.

“So who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?” You said, breaking the silence, not realizing you had just quoted Poe.

Anakin glares at you before responding, “There’s nothing to talk about.” He ignites his lightsaber and stalks towards you.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend like yesterday didn’t happen.” You replied, gripping your lightsaber in both hands as you ignited it.

“I’d rather not think about it. Now be quiet and focus.” He said, swinging his saber only for you to block his attack. You complied and trained with him in silence, save for the occasional grunt that you let out.

As the minutes passed, you grew more tired as Anakin’s actions became assertive. He began swinging his saber more aggressively, the pace so fast you almost couldn’t keep up. He was going to back you into the corner if he didn’t stop.

“Anakin, stop!” You pleaded. Your words seemed to have no effect on him as he continued, his eyebrows scrunching together as he knocked your saber out of your hand. He raises his lightsaber, ready to strike you down. With no weapon in hand and no way out, you use the force to push him back.

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?” You screamed at him once he was a good feet away from you.

Anakin wanted to tell you the truth. That loving you was his problem. That with each passing day, the feelings he had felt so many years for Padme, had nearly diminished. With your arrival, it felt like he had been reborn. He began to see life in a new light, maybe even cherished it more. And deep down, he knew that you were always meant to be his, and he was always meant to be yours. At night he would lie awake thinking of you, of what your lives could’ve been like together. Oh, how he would curse and scream at the stars for this twisted fate. But Anakin knew that he couldn’t be with you, no matter how much he wanted you.

He hated himself for being unfaithful to Padme, and in return he directed his internalized anger towards you, the source of his problems.

“You. Are. My. Problem.” He said, accusingly pointing his finger at you whilst stepping closer with each word he said.

“ME? I’m your problem?”

“Yes, you!.” He replied, pausing while trying to think of something to say. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it isn’t going to work. You’re trying to stray me away from my path. I will not indulge in your activities. I am loyal to the Jedi Order and my duties.” Anakin felt bad, he truly did. He didn’t want to lead you on, but it seemed like it was already too late.

“You're the one who kissed me!” How ironic, he’s only loyal to the Jedi, but apparently not to his wife.

“Because you seduced me!” He countered.

“I did no such thing.” You replied. “It wasn’t my fault that you saw me swinging my saber and got turned on. That’s on you Anakin. Also, if you have so many problems with training me, why don’t you ask the Council to swap you out for someone else?”

He opens his mouth, as if he’s going to reply, but it quickly shuts.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You pick up your saber and exit the training room.

Now alone, he lays on the floor, with his limbs sprawled out while mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He knows that he’s just ruined every chance, no matter how small or big, of being with you in the future. Anakin could only beg the makers that one day, some very distant day, or possibly in another life, that the two of you would’ve been together.

You waste no time calling Fury when you return to your room. The device takes a while trying to connect with FRIDAY back on Earth, but she alerts Fury, along with Tony and Peter, that they had an incoming call from you.

Three faces pop up onto the hologram, Peter was basically screaming at you. You quickly greeted him back before telling them what just happened, or well the shortened version of what happened.

“I fucked up.”

“What do you mean fucked up?” Tony asks.

“Okay, so Fury, you know how like you told me to get close to Anakin-- but not really that close. Just close enough so that he could y’know, slaughter his fellow Jedi and the younglings but not me. And then he would eventually become big bad Daddy- oops hehe, sorry I meant Darth. Darth Vader. And kill all of these people with his extremely cool but extremely dangerous weapon. But not close enough that it would alter their timeline. Which doesn’t really make sense if you think about it. Like how do I get close to him without getting close to him, y’know? Also how am I supposed to know where Thanos-'' Your rambling gets cut off by Fury.

“Get to the point.” He says.

“Right…. so…. like I said, I did something and I fucked up. He basically wants nothing to do with me now.” You replied.

“I don’t care. Do whatever you need to do to get back on his good side. Use one of those mind tricks you learned if you need to.”

“Those won’t work on him.” You sighed, your body hunched over as you tried to think of possible solutions.

“Then do what you need to, or else I’ll be forced to take you off the mission. I don’t want to repeat myself again” Fury hands the device to Tony, “I’ll give you some time to speak with her. But I expect a plan the next time you call.” He says before leaving the room.

“So, how’s life over there treating you, Star?” Tony asks. “What happened between you and.. what do you call him? Flyguy? No, umm-”

“Listen, I don’t really want to talk about it. But besides that, it’s been okay. Not really different from back home. I wake up, eat, train, eat, explore, eat again, then go to sleep. Basically the same routine. The food here is alright, nothing compared to what I was eating back at home. But I’m grateful that they're giving me food and shelter.” The rest of your night was filled with chatter and laughter, the previous events from the grueling day slowly drifting away from your mind.

It’s been two weeks since Anakin had confronted you, and almost nothing had changed. Well except for those couple of days where you thought he had taken up on your suggestion, only for him to show up for a day of training then leave again. The first day he was gone, you thought nothing of it. Only that he might’ve needed some space. But another day passed and there was still no contact from him. Of course you could’ve taken this issue up to the Jedi Council, but what were they going to do? Offer to switch out Anakin for a Jedi Master? No, you wouldn't allow that to happen. Instead you tried to reach out to him using the bond you two shared, only to find yourself blocked off from the connection.

Without Anakin by your side, it felt as though you became vulnerable to your emotions and the dark side. More specifically, you could feel someone lingering in your head. It certainly wasn’t Anakin. This person, the force around them was dark. They commanded respect, power, and fear. The day they intruded your head was the very day you began having nightmares.

Your body was sprawled on the ground, as if someone had pushed you back. The ground is hardened, it makes you let out a groan. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you noticed the two figures in the distance. You could only see them below their collarbones, their faces were blurred.

One of them wore a dark robe while the other was wearing ordinary civilian clothing. It seemed like the two of them were arguing, particularly, they were arguing about you.

“You will not take her from me!” The man in the robe declared.

“She was never yours.” The other man calmly replied, his hands held up showing he did not want to fight, hoping the robed man would comply. He doesn’t, instead he stretches out his hand, using the force to bring the man into his grasp. He turns around the civilian, so that they are both facing you, and forces him to his knees.

“If I can’t have her, then you can’t either.” It was like time began to slow as he said those words. You could hear yourself sharply intake air as the man takes out his saber. All life around you goes to a standstill as you see a red light illuminate your surroundings, a blade protruding from the man's lower stomach. The sound of your own blood pumping is loud, but not as loud as the gasps emitting from the wounded man.

“KAZ!” You screamed, calling out for the man. It was then you realized that this person wasn’t you. You certainly didn’t know anyone with that name. Or perhaps this was someone you had yet to meet.

The robed figure retracts his saber, Kaz’s body falling in front of him. If you acted quickly, you could retrieve his body and save him.

“You see, Kaz. My intention from the beginning was to kill you. However, I think I’d like to watch you suffer instead.” That voice, it sounded so familiar, yet you couldn’t place your finger on who it was.

“What do you mean?” Kaz uttered weakly.

The man gave no response, only a glance towards Kaz before he began making his way towards you.

“No, stay away from her!” He pleaded.

The glow of his red saber became more clear then closer he got to you. The last thing you see is his saber coming your way before everything fades to black.

That night, you woke up drenched in sweat and panting as if you had just ran a marathon. If there was one thing that you understood, it was the fact that the force didn’t want you here. Your destiny was supposed to be fulfilled on Earth. Only time could tell you the consequences for trying to interfere. But you didn’t care, you were going to do whatever you could to save your friends.

Read chapter 6 here

~~~~~~

tags are open :P

#Anakin #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #Anakin Skywalker x Padme Amidala #star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #Nick Fury #Avengers #spiderman #MCU #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #star wars x avengers

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ladyxskywalker · 3 years

Note

Allegory pretty please!? 😍

Allegory so far is just a rough outline !

Anakin Skywalker, soulmate au

[fic concept & snippet below] 💭

Anakin, God of Darkness, wants more for himself, a life of his own, love, the power to decide his own fate. When he asks his brother, Obi Wan, Guardian of the Heavens to grant him this wish, he denies him. Instead, an epic battle ensues in the sky, resulting in Anakin getting cast down to the physical world, where he has fallen.

& there he meets his soulmate, broken and wounded. neither of them know the other ever existed, because both of them have literally been out of reach of each other. they save each other in more ways than either of them have ever dreamed of. 💫

"... can I be sure that you will not harm me?"

"That, I promise you, for I am forbidden to ever lie."

"Then tell me one truth, angel, and I'll consider your trust."

"Your show of kindness will be granted with love. Others will envy it. It may change you, but your light will embrace it."

"Tell me something real, no aimless prophecies that I can not depend on."

"Your eyes hold a great amount of pain, a heartbreaking beauty that shatters me. Yet, I do not understand why. However, your hurt will fade, as long as I am at your side."

#pxk fic concept #allegory pxk #pxk answers #pxk writes #aerolanya 💞

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lightcreators · 3 years

Text

@belovedtenth continue from here

An easy smile spreads on his features. “Ah yes. The beautiful young wife, of one Anakin yes? I have heard of you a thousand times over from Anakin himself. Though you must forgive me, that I do not remember him describing you as so beautiful and enchanting. He fails to capture what grace you have in person.” He bows to her gently, and the time lord hardly bowed to anyone. “It is good to finally meet you.”

It must had been the same sensation Obi-Wan had feel: a short discomfort to realize choice of omission of past events, pretending than none of this had happened. She didn’t really came in person for get informed since her husband’s Master had preferred advised at once her son ---- still, regardless of duties into the Senate, sadness get recollected into his expression. They were both linked towards an important silence who allowed existence inclining into a warm’s atmosphere --- they both knew how the other timeline was mean to be cruel, cannot be forgotten, and how tragedy was laying around into the corridors. How far would be able to tell to the concerned Time Lord about their mental health, when every concerned player was focused into the role sending to them, following their own script but having to following strict rules meanwhile be more or less aware of how immense the universe was ? How many revelations she will be able to share with the Doctor about a happiness illusion who was preserved regardless of the new elements, regardless how nothing wouldn’t be like before ?

Once upon a time, she had been blinded with too much love and powerless towards the interest of her husband about his visions — the beginning of something higher, only an indication there was something more within him — into a distorted reality he didn’t wanted to happens asking to a celestial being to seeing a other side if he was failing into darkness. In one way or another, her ‘wish’ created the origin of the disaster: the end couldn’t not anticipated surely, but their space captain concerning temporary companions of her and Obi-Wan show the slow degradation of the Time Lord who wanted giving them a rightful happiness — avoiding Dark Vader to exist at all cost, and avoiding also the abandonment caused by their father for her children…only the first became true. The second was the reason of the worst mistake of a witch they had witnessed frontally. She saw the universe she thought she knew to break up in an impossibility and the false reassurance she gave to a son of other timeline (at least, the initial first time; not the second when it was already fated) would burn into nonexistence. Not even a scenario her Ani would have been able to imagine. Not even a truth she would be allowed to say anymore. For his own benefits, this emotional immortal had to remaining distant of the reality of what happened during the accomplishment of saving Anakin. For the sake of a logic who trapped them constantly, she will have to blooming stronger for her love.

❝ No doubt you have been attracted by the presence of a former queen who has not forgotten who she was. ❞ She welcomed him with a pleasant amusing sentence. During one second during the compliments he offered her, she was recollecting her Queen years into her homeplanet — all the work she pulled into a mission of protecting her people, standing even more about expanding peace now, how she never forget any of the terrible lessons she learned of foolishness price during her childhood. For too long, she reduced herself into her abilities, to push behind her origin because their private relationship was delicate. However, now, she was remaining the most underestimated asset — she could turn into a symbol of peace completely; meanwhile allowing Ani to accept slowly the truth behind the appearances. ❝ Oh you saw how enthusiastic my husband is once my name is spelled ! ❞ Though in private, he might be surprised to learn he was constantly worried, obsessed by this wrong sensation treating the reality, unsure about how to talk about his children meanwhile showing some hurt expressions concerning his lack of parenthood, that confusion sentiment created by his son. There were days when they were a couple speaking mutual problems…there were also instants when her husband seemed completely dissociated of everything. Into rare moments, they seemed to be both strangers to each other — as she was loving a copy of a husband…and him feeling like a shell of the man he should be. ❝ I imagine countless questions must cross your mind. ❞

#belovedtenth #ic :: padme amidala #verse tbt.#padme and tenth doctor tbt.

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redrobinhoood · 4 years

Text

In the hands of the enemy | Whumptober2020

“Pick Who Dies” | Collars

TW: None Summary: Anakin is forced to choose between three of the beings he loves.

AO3 Link | Whumptober Index

Rex slowly rolled his head around in a circle, looking to ease some of the strain that the heavy collar left around his neck. It had been hours, how many he didn’t know, but certainly hours. As he finished the roll, he could see Ahsoka on his right scratching the back of her headtails against the metal.

“I thought Anakin would be here by now.” Obi-Wan remarked on Rex’s left. “He sure is taking his sweet time.”

“Well, Rex and I are usually there to keep him on track.” Ahsoka scoffed.

Rex would’ve been worried if he had been alone. But he wasn’t. The room wasn’t dark enough to prevent him from seeing the Jedi in their respective ray shields on each side and their presence brought him comfort. He just didn’t want to be on the other end of the lightsaber when they were freed.

Obi-Wan made a sound as if he was going to respond but fell silent at the sound of approaching footsteps. The door to the warehouse slid open and Anakin and a Phindian walked in. The Phindian flipped on the lights as they entered, and Rex found himself blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

“Just as Moralo Eval said.” The Phindian gestured to the prisoners.

“And what do you want from me?” Anakin’s eyes danced across the room in search of traps.

“Just your cooperation. See the collars around their necks? At the touch of this button,” the Phindian waved a remote before him, “they will produce a lethal shock.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t gut you now.” Anakin growled, resting his hand on his lightsaber hilt.

“Because if I die, they all die.” Eval bared his teeth in what may have been a smile. “But you have a choice, Skywalker. You get the wonderful opportunity to pick the two who survive.”

“You want me to kill someone?” Anakin’s voice rose and his grip on his lightsaber tightened.

“Patience, Skywalker. You must play the game.”

Anakin threw his fist away from his hilt in rage and stepped towards the trio. His eyes scanned across them, coming to stop at Ahsoka. “Let Ahsoka go.” He commanded.

Eval nodded and the lights on Ahsoka’s collar powered off, the ray shield above her falling away. She stood up and stumbled over to Anakin, who stepped forward to steady her and pull her against his side as he turned back to the men.

Rex took a deep breath. Of course Anakin would free Ahsoka- hell, he’d wanted him to free Ahsoka- but Rex knew what would happen next. He hoped that it wouldn’t, but he also knew that he was only a clone. Obi-Wan had practically raised Anakin, he was like a brother to him. Eval had presented Anakin with a choice that never existed.

Anakin’s face contorted into a look of pain. “Let Obi-Wan go.”

Rex’s chest tightened in pain, and maybe a little bit of fear. When Anakin looked to him, Rex nodded to let him know it was okay. Rex had known that he’d be the one to die. He’d already forgiven Anakin for it. He looked over to Ahsoka, frozen in horror at Anakin’s side. He wished that she wasn’t here to see this. Rex knew that he could never protect Ahsoka from the horrors of war, but this was not the war. This was the revenge of a madman.

“Very well.” Eval said.

Rex closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the looks on his friends faces as he died. Once he had hoped that he would die in battle, in the arms of one of his brothers or his Jedi. He thought for sure that that was to be his fate, to die in combat for the Republic. But this was an execution, not a battle, and he wished now that he could die here alone.

Rex heard the sound of the collar buzzing to life and clenched his jaw. No matter how much it would hurt, Ahsoka could never know. That thought was gone the moment the electricity began to surge through his body. All his thoughts were gone, burned away by the burst of current that flowed through him. He could feel his muscles contracting as the electric fields governing his body went haywire. He might have cried out in pain. If he did, it was lost to him. Then it stopped and dying felt very painful as he slammed into the duracrete floor, his body convulsing. One half of the collar lay before him, broken, and Rex suddenly realized that he was not dead.

There was shouting and a commotion, but he couldn’t process the sounds over the erratic beating of his heart in his ears. However, he did feel the small arms that wrapped around his body and the flesh of the lekku pressing against his head as Ahsoka pulled him into her arms. He wanted to order her to put him down. His muscles still twitched uncontrollably, and he didn’t want his jerking limbs to hurt her. But he couldn’t raise his voice to say it and the touch of skin was better than that of duracrete. So instead he closed his eyes and tried to get his breathing under control. Ahsoka was slowly rubbing a hand up and down his back and he tried to time his breath to the movement.

“Rex?” Ahsoka’s voice shook and he felt her take his wrist into her free hand. She must’ve thought she’d lost him when his eyes closed.

It took all of Rex’s strength to open his eyes again, and more to force the words past his lips. “‘M alright, kid.”

Ahsoka let out a sob of relief and moved her hand down from his wrist to tangle their fingers together. He couldn’t feel her touch but tried to give her hand a reassuring squeeze anyways.

“Rex!” Rex didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Anakin crashing to his knees behind him.

“Gen’ral.” Rex greeted. He was starting to feel tired again.

“Let’s get him back to the ship.” Anakin slipped his arms under Rex, taking him from Ahsoka’s grip. Rex let his head loll against Anakin’s chest as the man stood. He knew that he would be okay. There was a medical droid on the ship, any damage he had sustained from the shock would be treated. But at the same time, Rex thought that he may have rather died. He had been raised knowing that he was an expendable pawn for the Republic, but he’d never thought that he would become an expendable pawn to his general. Though it was silly to think that his life had any value equal to that of a Jedi. Still, for a moment, Rex wished he had died so that he wouldn’t have to live with this knowledge. Then he felt something wet hit his face and blinked open his eyes to find that his general was crying as he carried him.

“Anakin.” Rex rasped.

“Just hang in there, Rex.” He sounded desperate.

“I forgive you.”

Anakin didn’t verbally respond, but Rex felt his general’s grip on his body tighten. Rex closed his eyes again and focused on his still erratic heartbeat. They would talk later. Now, Rex felt safe in the presence of his Jedi.

#captain rex #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #the clone wars #whumptober2020 #no.2 #pick who dies #collars #star wars #fic #my fics

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jedi-order-apologist · 4 years

Text

I finished reading Yoda: Dark Rendezvous, and I have to say, I really, really loved it! Everyone who recommended it to me was 100% right - this book is great, and especially great in its representation of the Jedi. I think I like it even more than Shatterpoint, and I really liked Shatterpoint.

There are some weak points - it was a little slow to pull me in, and there’s a couple of Weird Legends Things™ that, with me not being particularly immersed in that continuity, don’t quite fit in with my conception of Star Wars (Dooku apparently having had a Master that was not Yoda; the infamous 13-year-old age limit (though I was at least familiar with that one), the Jedi being so far in the public eye that there exists a famous Yoda impersonator, etc), and I was a little iffy on how it handled the “Jedi shouldn’t be in the war” angle (I’m fine with there being Jedi who think that the Jedi shouldn’t be in the war. I’m less fine with an author deciding that other Jedi can’t find the words to defend their involvement, because that’s a cheap way of framing the argument), and a small moment of the “everyone falls in love” stuff I dislike.

But those were very small aspects of the book, all things considered, and pretty much everything else about this book is really, really good, and very Star Warsy - a very healthy mix of the wacky as well as the philosophical sides of the franchise, which suited my tastes really well. This book is fun - Yoda is the grumpy grandpa that he deserves to be, and spends a good portion of the book disguised as an astromech that gets into all sorts of trouble. Obi-Wan and Anakin have peak sibling energy in the handful of scenes that they show up in - Anakin at one point insisting that a woman would have to be desperate to want Obi-Wan, and only a younger sibling could possibly say something like that with a straight face to a man as attractive as Obi-Wan, as well as Obi-Wan lying to Mace Windu’s face to cover for Anakin and then immediately grumbling about it to Anakin that he doesn’t know why he does these things for him is such an older sibling thing to do.

Where this book really shines, though, is the serious stuff - the philosophy and the dark side and especially grief. What absolutely sold me on this story, and what made me sit up and go “this is going to be one of my favorite Star Wars books”, was the part where Yoda speaks to the padawans and helps them address and work through their grief. It was phenomenal, and beautiful, and absolutely everything I want out of depicting the Jedi - especially in the context that only a chapter earlier, Ventress had been hurling those standard accusations of “the Jedi don’t let you feel”, and this book wonderfully, completely demolishes that nonsense. This section is absolutely amazing:

Yoda set his bowl of gumbo regretfully aside. “Hear it working, do you?”

“Hear what?” Whie snapped.

“The dark side. Always it speaks to us, from our pain. Our grief. It connects our pain to all pain, our hurt to all hurt.”

“Maybe it has a lot to say.” Whie stared at the starscape hovering over the projector table. “It’s so easy for you. What do you care? You are unattached, aren’t you? You’ll probably never die. What was Maks Leem to you? Another pupil. After all these centuries, who could blame you if you could hardly keep track of them? Well, she was more than that to me.” He looked up challengingly. Tear tracks were shining on his face, but his eyes were still hard and angry. “She was the closest thing I had to a mother, since you took me away from my real mother. She chose me to be her Padawan and I let her down, I let her die, and I’m not going to sit here and stuff myself and get over it!” He finished with a yell, sweeping the plate of crêpes off the projection table, so the platter went sailing toward the floor.

Yoda’s eyes, heavy-lidded and half closed like a drowsing dragon’s, gleamed, and one finger twitched. Food, platter, drinks, and all hung suspended in the air. The platter settled; the crêpes returned to it; Whie’s overturned cup righted itself, and rich purple liquid trickled back into it. All settled back onto the table.

Another twitch of Yoda’s fingers, the merest flicker, and Whie’s head jerked around as if on a string, until he found himself looking into the old Jedi’s eyes. They were green, green as swamp water. He had never quite realized before how terrifying those eyes could be. One could drown in them. One could be pulled under.

“Teach me about pain, think you can?” Yoda said softly. “Think the old Master cannot care, mmm? Forgotten who I am, have you? Old am I, yes. Mm. Loved more than you, have I, Padawan. Lost more. Hated more. Killed more.” The green eyes narrowed to gleaming slits under heavy lids. Dragon eyes, old and terrible. “Think wisdom comes at no cost? The dark side, yes - it is easier for them. The pain grows too great, and they eat the darkness to flee from it. Not Yoda. Yoda loves and suffers for it, loves and suffers.”

One could have heard a feather hit the floor.

“The price of Yoda’s wisdom, high it is, very high, and the cost goes on forever. But teach me about pain, will you?”

“I...” Whie’s mouth worked. “I am sorry, Master. I was angry. But...what if they’re right?” he cried out in anguish. “What if the galaxy is dark. What if it’s like Ventress says: we are born, we suffer, we die, and that is all. What if there is no plan, what if there is no ‘goodness’? What if we suffer blindly, trying to find a reason for the suffering, but we’re just fooling ourselves, looking for hope that isn’t there? What if there is nothing but stars and the black space between them and the galaxy does not care if we live or die?”

Yoda said, “It’s true.”

The Padawans looked at him in shock.

The Master’s short legs swung forth and back, forth and back. “Perhaps,” he added. He sighed. “Many days, feel certain of a greater hope, I do. Some days, not so.” He shrugged. “What difference does it make?”

“Ventress was right?” Whie said, shocked out of his anger.

“No! Wrong she is! As wrong as she can be!” Yoda snorted. “Grief in the galaxy, is there? Oh, yes. Oceans of it. Worlds. And darkness?” Yoda pointed to the starscape on the projection table. “There you see: darkness, darkness everywhere, and a few stars. A few points of light. If no plan there is, no fate, no destiny, no providence, no Force: then what is left?” He looked at each of them in turn. “Nothing but our choices, hmm?”

“Asajj eats the darkness, and the darkness eats her back. Do that if you wish, Whie. Do that if you wish.” The old Jedi looked deep into the starscape, suns and planets and nebulae dancing, tiny points of light blazing in the darkness. “To be Jedi is to face the truth, and choose. Give off light, or darkness, Padawan.” His matted eyebrows rose high over his swamp-colored eyes, and he poked Whie with the end of his stick. Poke, poke. “Be a candle, or the night, Padawan: but choose!”

Whie cried for what seemed like a long time. Scout ate. Fidelis served. Master Yoda told stories of Maks Leem and Jai Maruk: tales of their most exciting adventures, of course, but also comical anecdotes from the days when they were only children in the Temple. They drank together, many toasts.

Scout cried. Whie ate. Fidelis served.

Yoda told stories, and ate, and cried, and laughed: and the Padawans saw that life itself was a lightsaber in his hands; even in the face of treachery and death and hopes gone cold, he burned like a candle in the darkness. Like a star shining in the black eternity of space.

I want to show this passage to every hot-take Yoda-critical fan who’s ever leveled that kind of nonsense at him. I want every one of them to read this and still try to tell me that Yoda is detached and uncaring of the galaxy around him. I want every fan who thinks the Jedi are expected to be unfeeling to read this and understand what the Jedi actually say and do and why giving into these feelings is the issue, not the feelings themselves.

The confrontation with Dooku is also amazing. Yoda challenges him to explain why the dark side is so great, and Dooku only gets more and more frustrated as Yoda is unswayed by any of what he tempts him with. I especially love this bit where Yoda lays out exactly why what the dark side promises is false:

“Want something else. Want power.”

“Power have I.”

“Want wealth.”

“Wealth I need not.”

“Want to be safe,” Dooku said in frustration. “Want to be free from fear!”

“I will never be safe,” Yoda said. He turned away from Dooku, a shapeless bundle under a battered, acid-eaten cloak. “The universe is large and cold and very dark: that is the truth. What I love, taken from me will be, late or soon: and no power is there, dark or light, that can save me.”

That then leads into a bit where Dooku has a vision of what a dark!Yoda would look like, and realizes how utterly terrifying that would be.

Dooku also has abandonment issues on full display - lashing out at the lady who had given her son up to the Jedi, getting furious at her on the son’s behalf (but so clearly, his own, speaking of his own resentment towards his parents), and throwing an absolute hissy fit because he’s convinced Yoda likes Anakin more than him. I’m not kidding, he’s so offended by Anakin’s entire existence that just his mere presence in his house is enough for Dooku to stop feeling conflicted about the whole thing and jump right back into the dark side.

And there’s just so many good little moments throughout it all on top of all that. Whie’s dreams - and oh, I knew exactly what his dream of his own death was when he described it to Scout and it hurt at the end when he hugged Anakin while saying “I’m so glad you’re not coming to kill me!”. And Ventress, calling Dooku out on the fact that it’s so obvious that Sidious will end up replacing him (also for a more humorous bit - the fact that she apparently has some petty grudge against Anakin and Obi-Wan for stealing her ships so she goes out of her way to steal their ship at the end), and the droids, and Scout’s cleverness in winning the tournament despite her disadvantages, Jai Maruk’s last stand and refusal to fall when he was at the edge, and...so much, really.

And above all else, the book really latches onto the idea of Jedi as family, and you all know how much I really, really love the idea of the Jedi as a big found family. The idea that they consider each other to be family is driven home again and again, in their words and in their actions, and I absolutely adore this book for that emphasis.

#yoda dark rendezvous #yoda #in defense of the jedi #book review #book recommendation #jedi positive #jedi #the jedi order #jedi order #guys i REALLY LOVE THIS BOOK #seriously #i highlighted so many passages in it and I couldn't possibly include them all in this post #there are so many REALLY good conversations #about the dark side #and grief #and so much #on the dark side #on emotion

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hellowkatey · 3 years

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angstpril day 10: don't look back

[ part 1 ] [ AO3 ]

Unfinished Business (pt. 2)

It didn't take much convincing at all to get the council to knight Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon holds the lightsaber in his hand, and it feels heavier than normal. Maybe it's his weakened state since Naboo, or maybe seeing his padawan kneeling before him, trying his hardest not to smile, is causing him to want to let this moment stretch out as long as he can. His moments are numbered, and this is one he wants to remember.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon says, igniting his lightsaber and lowering it to the shoulder of the boy he watched grow into a man. His face is illuminated in the darkened council chambers by the lightsabers of the council, who granted him this exception to knight his own padawan. Yoda stands beside him, and Qui-Gon taps into the calmness of his presence to get him through this moment. "By the right of the council; by the will of the Force; I dub thee," and he flicks his wrist, the delicate movement taking the braid off in a single hiss. "Jedi Knight of the Republic."

Qui-Gon watches the braid fall to the floor, and a polite smile spreads across Obi-Wan's face as he rises. There is cheering from the council, and Qui-Gon deactivates his lightsaber.

He lets Obi-Wan get whisked away by the crowd of his friends. The post-knighting celebration is always an exciting one and one that with any hope, Obi-Wan will not remember entirely the following day. (Mace made damn sure of that at Qui-Gon's own knighting. He still can't even think about cinnamon shots without feeling queasy).

He looks at his padawan-- former padawan who beams in his direction, his braid held tightly in his fingers. Pride blooms in Qui-Gon’s chest. The boy he raised from his youth now stands among his friends, some lacking their braids and others who are soon due. Their arms wrap around him and words of congratulations fill the air, and Qui-Gon has to resist the urge to run up to them and tell them how right they are. How Obi-Wan stepped up against a foe even he couldn’t defeat, and now he even inquired about taking on Anakin as his padawan in a few years if Qui-Gon is still feeling the effects of his injuries. He raised an excellent Jedi, true and good, but he must make sure Obi-Wan knows how good he is before Qui-Gon accepts his demise.

But will there even be time for that?

The question constantly lingers in his mind. He can feel the eyes of his council members who know the deal he made. He's been their constant study ever since he explained what had happened in that chamber. It feels like they're afraid to blink around him-- that one moment he'll be living and the next the Force will take him before their eyes. Had Qui-Gon known he would become a captive animal he would have succumbed to his rightful fate weeks ago.

A joke, he projects into the Force. Only a joke.

Maybe he will disappear in an instant-- it certainly feels that way sometimes. Ever since Naboo, he is at the very peak of a metaphorical mountain. Solid ground is virtually non-existent at this point, with only the treacherous cliffside around him if he wavers from his upright stance. He is posted up at the very edge of his Life Force. Yes, he can stand here almost comfortably, but even mountains weather over time. Soon he will have to fall and accept his entry into the Cosmic Force.

"They grow up so fast," the sardonic voice of his friend says, with a hand resting on his shoulder. He looks to Mace Windu who may be the only member of the council who isn't obsessed with his current existence. Or at least he hides it better.

"Indeed. One day I'm pulling him out of a fire beetle pit and the next he's besting a Sith in a duel."

"A testament to your lineage. With hope, your maverick ways weren't hereditary."

Qui-Gon chuckles. "If anything, it skips a generation."

"Then I'm not giving Kenobi any say in his padawan choice."

"Much like Yoda did for me then?"

Mace clears his throat, straightening up. Yes, maverick ways certainly skip a generation in this lineage. Yoda may be the worst of all, somehow even getting the Force on his side to do his bidding.

"The creche master sent a comm during the ceremony," the Master of the Order changes the subject ever so subtly. Qui-Gon perks up, looking at his friend.

"Is it--"

"It's Skywalker, yes."

Qui-Gon glances over at Obi-Wan, still in the midst of collecting praises.

"If Obi-Wan asks, I am stepping out for just a moment."

Windu nods, and Qui-Gon moves quietly away from the party.

The walk to the creche feels longer than normal. Perhaps it is his new philosophy to savor the moment he has left in his home. Walks through the temple are different now that he knows they are the last he will take. He looks at every art piece, glances into every room. Though he isn't spending as much time sightseeing, it still feels long.

His focus lies on Anakin now.

Qui-Gon is a hypocrite. He so often took the time to lecture about not reflecting on the past, and now here he is, wishing he could have done so many things differently. One such choice is how he dealt with young Anakin.

Impulsive is a word used on numerous occasions to describe him through his knighthood. Usually, he ignores such critiques since they so often come from senators with no concept of what it means to be a Jedi and know the Force... but this time they may have a point. At the time it felt like the right thing to do. Anakin was a slave with untapped potential and the answer to a prophecy he's been studying for years. He's undoubtedly the Chosen One who will save them from the darkness. But maybe if he'd just waited...

He strides into the dormitories to find Master Rose, Anakin's creche master, waiting patiently for him.

"Master Jinn," she says, her lips pressed together. "They're happening again."

He sighs. "Can I see him?"

She nods, stepping out of the way. The dormitories are just as he remembers from his own childhood. Rows of beds, little privacy, and always a little musty from the older younglings that aren't keen on hygiene yet. It's empty at this time of day-- Anakin has been granted additional rest hours because of the nightmares he's been having ever since his arrival at the Temple. A recommendation from his mind healer. The boy sits on the edge of his bed, arms wrapped around himself as though he's cold or simulating a hug. He only looks up at Qui-Gon when he approaches and sits next to him, his eyes rimmed red and nose running.

"Was it her again?" Qui-Gon asks softly, wrapping an arm around the boy. He leans into his side, sniffling in the process.

"Yes, Master Jinn."

"The same as the others?"

He feels the nod. Anakin has told him of his nightmares before. His mother, Shmi, sitting in the window staring out to the horizon. He calls for her, but she doesn't turn around. So he runs at her, only to be held back. The creche master would wake up to him screaming for her in the night. Pleading her to look at him. If his dream progresses enough, she does turn around, but she doesn't know him. Doesn't remember him. And then he screams louder-- but in despair.

"The mind healer told me it's because I'm attached," he looks up, his eyes a bright blue from crying. "Master Jinn, how can I not be attached to my mom?"

The question pangs in Qui-Gon's chest because truthfully, he doesn't know the answer to that question. Biological family is not something he's ever known or really put much thought into. The Jedi have always been his family, but not quite in the way that Anakin feels for his mother.

This is where his regret comes. He didn't consider the fallout of Anakin's attachment. Obi-Wan tried to warn him but he admittedly wasn't in the market for advice at that time. As much as he's trying to make things right by having the boy see a mind healer to cope with the change, he isn't sure the boy will ever figure out how to overcome his attachment. It worries him. He knows it worries the council. Obi-Wan has come around on the idea, but with the condition that he works with the healers.

"What is it you fear, Anakin?"

His face scrunched up. "What do you mean?"

"What do you fear."

"You said Jedi aren't supposed to fear."

Qui-Gon smiles. "You are a Jedi in training, young one. And Jedi do fear, they just know how to deal with it. How to release it and not let it affect their connection to the Force."

"Because fear is the dark side, right?"

"You learn quickly. Fear is not inherently the dark side, but it can lead to it. Now tell me, what is making you afraid?"

The boy takes a deep breath. "What if she... forgets about me?" As he speaks, his voice cracks. "What if she is hurt or needs help, and I... can't help her? I shouldn't have-- I shouldn't have left her all alone."

The tears come now, hot and fast. And stars, the Force... when Anakin cries just feels like it's crying with him.

Qui-Gon has learned that sometimes tears just need to flow. For the young, it is a necessary release. He lets Anakin have his moment, lets him collapse into his lap, and ball his robes in his little fists. Qui-Gon just sends calm sentiments through the Force, even though it feels like he's holding an umbrella to a gale. When his sobs turned to sniffles, Qui-Gon ruffles his fingers through the floppy blond strands of his hair. His dry heaving and hiccups shift to controlled breaths, and then the Jedi Master speaks.

"Now how do you feel?"

Anakin sniffles, sitting up again next to Qui-Gon. "A little... better."

"Your mind healer has told you to release your emotions, right? This--" He sets his hand lightly on the boy's chest. "--feeling you have. A weight off your shoulders, and your emotions calm. This is the feeling you are looking for."

"So I have to... cry when I meditate?"

The master smiles. "With much practice, you will find you can release any negative emotions with just your strength of mind. To be a Jedi is to be in control of these emotions. To think and act with a clear mind. Now tell me young one, these dreams. Your mother. Now that you have released your anxieties, what is it telling you?"

The boy looks up at him, eyes wide and bright from the residual tears. Anakin's lip quivers, but he bites the inside of his lip.

"Don't look back. She told me not to look back."

He nods. Qui-Gon remembers the moment vividly, Shmi's jaw set but face soft when Anakin looked at her. He could see her strength, her desire for Anakin to have a life better than his current one, but also her love for her son. When Anakin didn't turn around, Qui-Gon did. Shmi stared back, a smile still on her face and a nod in his direction. A promise--I will be okay-- and a request-- take care of him for me.

"Yes. Don't look back, look forward. If you learn the ways of the Jedi, learn to regulate your emotions, and become the great knight I feel you could be, then you will be making her proud. You are living the life that your mother wanted for you. I know you can feel that."

"I can feel it," he says softly. "I just... don't know if I should believe it."

"Trust in the Force, Ani. You've done it naturally all your life, and now it's time you learn to hone it. And don't look back."

"Look forward," Anakin finishes for him, pushing off the bed and standing. "I'll try, Master Jinn."

Do or do not, there is no try, his grandmaster's voice automatically replies in his mind. Qui-Gon walks with Anakin back out to see his creche master, who will take him to his next mind healing session.

And then he's alone walking back to the council chambers. When he's alone, he is aware of the ticking chrono constantly ringing in his ears. It grows louder with every day he awakes, every additional moment he strongarms his way through. Maybe Qui-Gon would wonder what this world would look like had he perished in that chamber, but he need not wonder.

It's what he hasn't yet told a soul, and it weighs on him. When he held on for dear life to that final thread of life, he saw a future clad in darkness. Light and dark clashing in a heated fury of heartbreak and loss. It was cold, laced with pain and treachery he could hardly comprehend. This was a future of suffering, and he has woken in a cold sweat every night since he felt it.

If he died in that chamber, the galaxy would suffer. He tries to tell himself what Shmi told her son-- don't look back-- but the very idea of such a shatterpoint over his existence is horrifying. He can't help it. But it's given him a reason to do what he can to fix this mess he has created. To prevent that pit of despair he could feel in the shadow of his former padawan's future. To preserve the light that shines so brightly within a boy who had every reason to live in darkness. Don't look back-- Force, but what if he had died? What if he was too slow, too weak to keep himself from going into that light?

He stops outside the council chambers, sitting on the bench and breathing deeply. The sounds of celebration still rage in the next room, and from here Qui-Gon can feel Obi-Wan and the gratification that has made his Force presence feel like a raging bonfire. It's warm, inviting, and feels as though it could burn for an eternity.

So much to tell him. So much to share. His learning as a padawan may have stopped, but now his future as a great Jedi knight lies before him. But he clutches his chest, feeling like his breath has been stolen from his lungs. The hallway seems to spin, and Qui-Gon knows he is teetering over the edge of that cliffside. So much to share. So much to do. But the Force has waited long enough.

#angstpril2021 #fic #day 10 #don't look back #don'tlookback #unfinished business pt 2 #part three is dying words but i dont think that is a spoiler #anakin gets therapy!#obi-wan gets closure!#and a proper knighting!#but don't worry even though its a fix it #there is of course some angst

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in-love-with-darth-vader · 4 years

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My Definitive Ranking of The SW Movies (minus solo, still haven’t seen it)

#10: The Last Jedi: Okay, so, here’s the thing. I have a very good memory and I also adore Star Wars. I could not tell you five whole things that happened in this movie. It was so bad that I literally cannot remember a damn thing. Leia through space? Rip Luke? Porg? They killed my love Phasma? what else happened. I know so little that me and my dad play a game called “Did This Actually Happen in TLJ.” Apparently there was actually a casino scene and there was a planet called Crait. I completely forgot it all because I despised it so much.

#9: The Force Awakens: If you couldn’t tell, I’m not a huge fan of the new ones. I don’t hate this movie as much as I used to, but I still don’t watch it. I liked......Phasma. Personally, I just thought they tried too hard to be the originals. The characters seemed flat and boring and you know what, I didn’t care about one single person other than Phasma. I didn’t even care about the DROID. This movie was so fucking bland and boring. And I hate Kyle, so that ruins it too. (i do like some of these characters better due to TROS, but when I watched this movie, I despised them all). ALSO how dare JJ suggest that Han and Leia would 1. split up and 2. raise a piece of shit wet noodle as a child.

#8: The Phantom Menace: Here she is, the supposed worst SW movie of all time. Gotta be honest, the only thing putting it this low is Jar Jar’s existence. Literally why. Just why. Without him I really don’t see the problem with this movie. Sure, it’s a little boring, but you gotta start somewhere. Also, Duel of the Fates. That’s it. Amazing. It’s not that bad and if it’s on tv I’ll absolutely watch it.

#7: A New Hope: It pains me to put a classic this low, but this one just isn’t as fun as the other two! Again, you have to start somewhere, so of course it’ll be a little slow. I’m just also really bad at liking origin stories in ANY series I watch, so this is a personal thing. However, I adore Han and Leia. Luke is too whiny in this one but I’ll let it slide! It’s also just....old. Which is bad criticism but it’s hard to watch sometimes. I still absolutely adore it, but it’s just not my favorite.

#6: The Rise of Skywalker: So. This movie was getting slammed when it came out. I didn’t see it for a whole week because I was so scared. I walked into the previous two excited and I came out angry or disappointed. So, I walked into TROS with low expectations. I was gladly surprised. The whole time I was waiting for when it would start to get bad, and it never really happened. Sure, I have some critique on it, but it was great. Like, hey JJ, why the FUCK is force healing suddenly a thing??? What the fuck is this crashed Death Star since i KNOW it’s not the first two that blew up. Also why must we force everyone to be so hetero. ALSO thanks SO MUCH for incest being canon. the r*ylo moment made me crave death, but Kyle finally died so it was bittersweet. I really did love this movie though. They brought the humor back, and I think that’s what I was missing in the first two. They tried to be too serious. Also, I left the theater sobbing like a baby at the end out of joy and nostalgia, so it’s a good movie!

#5: Return of the Jedi: What a fantastic movie. This is actually the first movie I remember ever watching. Not just first Star Wars movie, but first movie ever. The scene at Jabba’s on Tatooine is PERFECTION. They had a great plan and then IMMEDIATELY got fucked over. Leia as Boushh is my favorite thing ever. Luke and his gay ass showing up in all black? Endor? Vader redeeming himself? Perfection. I love this movie. C3P0 as a GOD? Peak humor. Amazing movie.

Now here’s where it gets hard!

#4: Attack of the Clones: This movie gets way too much criticism. It’s fuckin AMAZING, okay? Can everyone just give Anakin a BREAK. Of cOURSE he’s cringy and awkward he’s NINETEEN. I feel like everyone who hates on this movie forgets that he’s literally a nervous, sheltered teen meeting the girl he likes for the first time in ages. Of COURSE he’d act like that. This movie has it all. The first look at the Clone Wars, Anakin beginning to fall to the dark side, Padme lookin fucking amazing and being badass, a huge arena battle, Jango Fett, I mean what more could you want. I DON’T LIKE SAND! Like seriously what is wrong with this movie. Nothing. The Obi-Wan and Anakin sass is perfect. Anakin the Angsty TeenTM is pERFECT. God I love this movie. Also, secret marriage. Fuck the Jedi, am I right?

Now it get’s REALLY hard. These next three are the three that I usually call my ‘tied for first place movies,’ but I will painfully rank them. Know that these are within an inch apart from each other.

#3: Empire Strikes Back: Oh, how it pains me to put ESB at number 3. I adore this movie so goddamn much. I love you. I know. Going to cloud city. Hoth. Leia and Han!!! Luke actually doing something. The group becoming even closer. Senile seagull Yoda. The SASS. Your Worshipfullness. Your Highnessness. SCOUNDREL? Who’s scruffy lookin! oHHhhH, he’s been encASed in CAArrBonITe! I could keep going. Also, Vader choke killing people through a screen is the best thing I’ve ever seen. I could talk about this movie ALL DAY but I don’t have enough time for that. I quote it and watch it constantly and it’s a perfect movie. It’s my number one, but number three cause the other two are just so damn good.

#2: Rogue One: CALL THIS MOVIE IRRELEVANT. SAY IT WASN’T NECESSARY. I DON’T CARE. One of the best movies I’ve ever seen. I’ll watch this ANY day of the week I don’t even care. The best fuckin characters. Jyn. Cass. Bodhi. Baze. Chirrut. The best people there ever were. K2 is the best sw droid and you can’t change my mind. This movie wasn’t about good guys vs bad guys. It was a group of morally grey people who banded together to decide to do something. They decided to do something, to take a stand, and to try to save the galaxy. None of them claim to be good people, they just decide to do what they believe is right. And even when you know they’ll all die, it still shocks you and hurts your heart anyway. Jyn Erso might honestly be one of the best sw characters of all time. Rogue One is the best group ever. I will never stop talking about this movie. “Where’d you get that?” “I found it” “I FIND THAT ANSWER VAGUE AND UNCONVINCING!” “Trust goes both ways” “welcome home” “REBELLIONS ARE BUILT ON HOPE” “i am one with the force the force is with me” “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE BEING RESCUED!!” and literally all the heart eyes Jyn and Cass give each other. God I love this movie. NO AND THEN THE END. THE HALLWAY SCENE. BETTER THAN SEX. VADER SLICIN EM DOWN. BEST THING IVE EVER SEEN.

#1: Revenge of the Sith: Without a doubt in my mind this is the best sw movie ever made. I’ve seen this a countless number of times. The memes, the battle, the story, the descent into darkness, GOD it’s so GOOD. The best sw battle ever on Mustafar is the best goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. Anakin going fully black robes, the scar, the SASS. I say “Goooood Anakin. Kill him. Kill him nOw. I shouldn’t. DEW IT” every single goddamn day of my life. Palpatine is iconic. A SITH LOOOORD?? Obi-Wan is ICONIC. so this is how liberty dies, with thunderous applause is the most insane line i’ve ever heard. The HairTM. Hang on, we’re smarter than this! HELLO THERE! GENERALKENOBI! Iamthesenate! It’s treeeason then! Mastah Skywalkah, there’s too many of them, wat are we going to do?? oh no, I’m not one for politics. How is this not the perfect movie. “Anakin’s the father isn’t he? I’m sorry.” the EMOTION. Anakin just wanted to love and to save his love from death and Yoda gave ZERO fucks. Anakin may have turned to murder which is a BIG NO but no one else helped him. Anyway, Revenge of the Sith perfectly shows his struggle and his sadness and I love every second of it. The end. I could go on forever, but I won’t.

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greysideforceuser · 4 years

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TROS Fix It Fic Masterpost - Part Three

All fics listed here are 300 kudos or less, at the time of this post’s creation. Part One and Two.

Fics under the cut.

1) The Rise of the Dyad by Lust4Cillian

Rating: Explicit

Kudos: 18

Comments: 3

Summary: "I’m going to find you, and I’m going to turn you to the dark side, by offering you my hand again. You’ll take it."

This story starts in TROS in the hangar of Kylo's Star Destroyer over Kijimi; while Finn, Poe, and co are escaping on the Millenium Falcon, Kylo is dropping bombs about dyads and Grandpa Palpatine. So what would have happened if the hurt and anger over this news pushed Rey to the Dark Side--just as Kylo Ren promised when he foretold him offering her his hand the next time? This fic explores what could've happened...Will they find a way to defeat Palpatine together? And along the way, a way back to the Light? Or a balance between the Dark Side and the Light Side?

2) The Dawn of Solo by hanaH

Rating: Not Rated

Kudos: 124

Comments: 12

Summary: Kylo Ren has died, and Ben Solo lives on. Ben finally returns home.

3) Rebirth by belowtheprecipice

Rating: Teen And Up

Kudos: 69

Comments: 5

Summary: The Dark Side of the Force was a pathway to many abilities some considered to be unnatural. And that's exactly what Rey needed. Or rather, Rey won't let the Force take Ben from her so easily.

4) forever the end for us by caisha

Rating: Teen And Up

Kudos: 81

Comments: 3

Summary: A look into Ben Solo's mind and heart from the time of his turn until the end. Fix-it for TROS ending.

5) And who are you? by heartlert

Rating: General

Kudos: 61

Comments: 5

Summary: Ben Solo wouldn't let his parents' war end in defeat, he wouldn't let all of those martyrs die for naught. He would make it work. But he had to climb to where she was fighting her demons before it was too late.

6) THE DESTINY OF SKYWALKER: The Rise of Skywalker Ending Rewritten (REYLO) by ShadowverseJC

Rating: Teen And Up

Kudos: 193

Comments: 28

Summary: I know why you're here. JJ really screwed up, huh? And Kathleen Kennedy, and every other nerf-herder at Disney and Lucasfilm. What was the point of this whole trilogy again?

7) Reprieve by SGTBrowncoat

Rating: General

Kudos: 134

Comments: 3

Summary: There. I fixed it.

8) the rise by manbunjon

Rating: Teen And Up

Kudos: 208

Comments: 6

Summary: They were meant to give up their strength to regain his power, to be used to restore the legacy he had built upon the backs of a thousand dead Jedi. But instead they stand together, the Last Skywalker and the Jedi from Jakku, two halves of the dyad that had been birthed by the Force and nurtured by fate, two halves of the same whole.

or, what should have happened in the rise of skywalker.

9) Lovely, Soft, Alive by Rinnagirl

Rating: General

Kudos: 83

Comments: 5

Summary: “You would have done the same for me.” And he knows it’s right and she knows it’s right because she would, god, she would.

10) Let the Past Die and Keep the Hope Alive by spiritmadeofstars

Rating: General

Kudos: 42

Comments: 1

Summary: A different ending to The Rise of the Skywalker. I hope it makes you feel better.

11) Star Wars Episode IX: The Destiny of a Jedi by romancered

Rating: General

Kudos: 21

Comments: 5

Summary: In the final chapter of the Skywalker Saga, our heroes face new challenges. Kylo and Rey try not to give into their deepest desires, Poe and Finn wrestle with complicated emotions, and the Resistance takes one last stand against the First Order. When the Emperor announces his return, the Dark and the Light will go on a quest of a lifetime in order to bring balance to the galaxy.

12) Across the Stars: A Rise of Skywalker Fix-It by kaitlynwrites31

Rating: General

Kudos: 56

Comments: 4

Summary: Since many of us did not agree with TROS ending, I decided to put my spin on a happy ending, in which Ben and Rey defeat Palpatine together as a dyad in the force. A version where they find peace and happiness in a galaxy finally free of war.

13) Out of the Gray by a_dyad_in_the_force

Rating: General

Kudos: 74

Comments: 2

Summary: Rey awakens to find herself restored by her Force-mate, but refuses to let it be at his expense. Spoilers for the end of The Rise of Skywalker.

14) Everything She Needs by juniordreamer

Rating: Teen And Up

Kudos: 138

Comments: 14

Summary: She closes her eyes, feels his warmth, finds him in the force as easily as she reaches down and grabs his hand to place back on her stomach. It soothes her, his peace. His steadiness in the force. So different from the storm she used to find raging there.

Will their child be resigned to face the same storm? To the fate of their ancestors? Will she know the pain and destruction that plagues her family line?

“She won’t,” Ben answers, though Rey never spoke the questions aloud. And he guides her then, through the force. Leads her right to the orb of pulsing light that lives, for now, inside of Rey. As bright as the sun.

Or, a post-tros fix it wherein Ben is alive and Rey is pregnant and they live happily ever after.

15) Eternal Return by 2ns

Rating: Teen And Up

Kudos: 82

Comments: 14

Summary: If you wish to restore Ben Solo, you will have to start by finding balance within yourself.

Years after the devastating events on Exegol and far removed from the mortal plane, what little remains of Ben Solo's life force is nearly extinguished. He is little more than a wraith. Concerned that if Ben ceases to exist, the effect on Rey will be catastrophic, Luke Skywalker seeks out Rey.

Overseeing a burgeoning temple on Tatooine, it appears as though Rey has continued to be a beacon of hope. The future of the Jedi Order is secure. On a deeper level, she struggles with the strain of the shattered dyad bond and mourns the loss of Ben Solo. By the time Luke visits her, Rey's strength is fading as well.

Though he refused to appear to him during his mortal life, Anakin Skywalker goads Ben into returning to Rey as an apparition, suspecting the strength of the dyad bond is far greater than the barrier that separates Ben from Rey. In time, Ben and Rey learn that even death cannot separate them. Like the Jedi who came before them, they are unable to escape their own destinies or the will of the Force that has bound them together.

#reylo #tros fix it fic #tros fix it rec list #canonverse au

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Psycho Analysis: Emperor Palpatine

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

There are villains. There are memes about villains. There are villains who are memes. And then, high above all of them, sitting on a lofty throne all his own, is Emperor Sheev Palpatine, a character so insanely incredible that it’s frankly quite baffling that even George Lucas at his worst still couldn’t make him awful… No, that was good old J.J. Abrams. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Palpatine is pretty much the archetype for the evil emperor in modern fiction, a mysterious evil sorcerer in dark robes who commands the main villain from afar and contains power beyond anything thought possible. But what’s interesting to note is that Palpatine really has three distinct eras to him: the original trilogy, where he was basically an outside context last minute threat who only had a presence in the third act of Return of the Jedi; the prequel trilogy, which is his best showing and where the Sheev we’ve all come to known and love really got to spread his wings and fly; and finally, the sequel era, the worst showing of Palpatine hands down, where he is randomly slapped into a film with no foreshadowing or buildup to pander to nostalgia.

So let’s take a look at our old pal Sheevy and see what makes him one of the greatest villains of all time, and one of the worst.

Motivation/Goals: Palpatine is motivated by one thing, and one thing only:

He spends the entire prequel trilogy building this up, working behind the scenes and manipulating both sides of the Clone Wars to his advantage so he can be given more and more political power. This works out beautifully for him, allowing him to dispose of his pawns like Dooku, take over the senate, seize absolute power, amass an army of clones, and of course execute Order 66. But most importantly, he is able to manipulate the frustrated and hurting Anakin to his side, mostly because the Jedi are a bunch of bumbling, archaic morons who put so much restrictions and belittle him so much that this creepy, predatory man is able to feed into his insecurities and send him tumbling to the Dark Side.

In the original trilogy, Palpatine is pretty content with letting Vader handle the affairs of the Empire, at least until Luke shows up and the Rebels become a substantial threat. Once the time comes, he has Luke and Vader get together and puts them up against each other, thinking the outcome is either that he gets a new apprentice/keeps his old one in check, or corrupts Luke somehow into killing his father and joining him as the new Sith. He didn’t count on Vader turning, but ah well.

The thing is that throughout these six films he remains remarkably consistent in his goals. He wants power, and if he can’t keep that power he’s going to make sure as many people suffer on his way down as possible. He’s almost cartoonishly evil in the best way possible!

And then came the sequels.

His motivations in the sequels are, quite frankly, impossible to discern, because they seem to change every scene. If he’s behind Snoke and the First Order, it’s easy to guess that he probably wanted Rey dead, right? Because that’s sure the vibe Snoke gave in The Last Jedi. But no, after it seeming like he wants her dead for most of The Rise of Skywalker, as soon as she shows up his plan is suddenly for her to kill him so he can transfer into his body. And then he changes that a short time later to “I am going to suck the life out of Rey and Ben so this shitty clone body can be great.” It’s like they’re cramming three or four different Palpatine plots into the twenty-five minutes of screentime Palpatine has in this film, and there is just absolutely no thematic cohesion anywhere. It’s just a mess.

Performance: If there is one thing that is always consistent with Palpatine, it is that Ian McDiarmid is absolutely fantastic as him. This man is able to take the most cliché, generic evil overlord archetype imaginable and transform every single line of dialogue he spouts into a meme, and even when he’s the absolute worst version of this character possible and strapped to a giant Sith dialysis machine on some Sith planet where he makes Snoke clones and verbally berates Adam Driver, he still finds time to be hilariously awesome.

Final Fate: Palpatine seriously underestimated Anakin, and ended up chucked down into the Death Star, where he died. He certainly didn’t have a poorly-explained clone backup of himself anywhere that would rise up decades later to completely override any victories the heroes ever had by ensuring that the entire lineage of the Skywalkers was destroyed and then usurped by his own spawn.

Best Scene: In a scene that justifies the entire existence of the prequels, shows off McDiarmid’s acting chops as he pulls off some actual subtlety as Palpatine, delivers some great background lore, and helps make Revenge of the Sith as awesome as it is… well, have you heard of the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?

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Best Quote: Look, I could put just about anything he says in Revenge of the Sith here. I could put just about anything he says here. This man is an absolute meme machine who spits out only the finest quotable soundbites you will ever here. But look, I’m tired of not singling out great lines, so let me give you the one I quote the most. It’s one of his greatest quotes, and yet it is unbelievably simple. Two words and a ridiculously hammy inflection is all this man needs to be a meme:

Final Thoughts & Score: Sheev Palpatine is a man of extremes. Every aspect of him is so large that when he does something, he does it with the full force of his entire character. Revenge of the Sith will eternally be his best showing in the entire franchise, because he just spends the entirety of his screentime being the most insanely impressive scheming, manipulative bastard imaginable while somehow managing to cram in time for a sick spin through the air or a monologue about his former master at the space opera house. He manages to singlehandedly redeem the prequels if only by existing in them, and he helps elevates Revenge of the Sith into being the only one of those films that is generally accepted as being legitimately awesome. And while he is absent for much of the original trilogy, seeing as he wasn’t exactly conceived of right off the bat, he manages to make the most of his appearance in Return of the Jedi by being just as delightfully malevolent as ever, goading Luke and Vader into a duel and shooting lightning from his fingertips.

There are few villains who are just this completely basic and cliché that could ever hope to be great, but thanks to McDiarmid’s portrayal, he has gone on to be one of the single most iconic villains of all time, and one of the most iconic characters of all time. The guy is practically a living meme, from his name to his actions in the prequels, and he has certainly inspired many an evil overlord after him. For a character so seemingly unoriginal, it can be hard to believe he probably deserves an 11/10, but he most definitely does. He’s just become a staple of the franchise, to the point where some people feel it just ain’t Star Wars without him…

...Including, unfortunately, J.J. Abrams and a few other writers. Palpatine managed to be shoehorned into the prequels by being a surprise twist villain for The Rise of Skywalker (and as we’ve all seen from their recent animated movies, out-of-nowhere twist villains are great!), and it is without a doubt the most stupid and embarrassing showing one could possibly imagine for a character of this caliber. His motivations seem to change every time he opens his mouth, a lot of his dialogue is just uninspired, and while he does get a somewhat striking design here it’s hampered by the fact that his entire existence and role are really unexplained in the film and he feels like he was slapped in for the sake of being there.

There’s also the fact that his mere existence and the fact he ends up being responsible for Ben Solo’s death means he completely overrides the entire franchise, comes out on top with his granddaughter usurping the Skywalker name, and succeeds entirely at wiping out the Skywalker lineage. This entire nine film series was just buildup to Palpatine ultimately winning, and just when things couldn’t get worse, Disney decided to take away the one thing that made this Palpatine hilarious – the idea that, with his hideous scarred face, he was able to bang a woman and conceive a child – and completely toss it out the window by saying this Palpatine was actually a clone. Not in the movie, of course, because that would make way too much sense, no; it was confirmed on Twitter.

I think it goes without saying Clone Palpatine gets a 1/10. And this is through no fault of McDiarmid; he’s still genuinely great in the role, even if the role is stupid, his character’s actions are stupid, and just everything about the character’s existence is stupid. He’s certainly not phoning it in at all, and ignoring everything else about the film Clone Palpatine is at least somewhat amusing on his own. There’s also the fact that this Palpatine most definitely has an incredibly striking design and looks really cool, despite the unbelievable lameness of what he actually is:

But how he is utilized within the franchise and what he ultimately accomplishes and represents is too much for me to actually forgive in the context of Psycho Analysis. When the most redemptive thing I can say about Clone Palpatine is that his actor is at least trying and his design is cool despite the awful writing and story relevance, that is not the sign of a great character. That is the sign of a great actor desperately trying to salvage a trainwreck.

But it’s like I said earlier; Palpatine is a man of extremes. If he’s gonna be a great villain, then by god is he going to be one of the greatest villains of all time. And if he’s going to be a crappy villain? Well then he’s gonna sit among the worst ever. I kind of respect that about good ol’ Sheev; he just can’t do anything in half measures. I guess as a Sith he really does deal in absolutes, be it absolutely amazing or absolutely awful.

UPDATE: I stand by all my criticisms of Sheev Clonepatine, but dammit, there’s just too many hilarious memes, and I can’t really hate Ian McDiarmid’s performance. Yes, I’ve come around quick, but I guess it is true: when Palpatine succeeds, he succeeds epically and hilariously, and when he fails, he fails epically and hilariously. His role in the story and the stupidity of him being here at all is a 1/10 for sure, but I think he’s just hilarious enough to edge into the “So bad it’s good” category of 3/10 alongside his bouncing baby boy Snoke.

Just remember: No matter what Disney tries to tell you, Palpatine fucks.

#Psycho Analysis #Emperor Palpatine #Sheev Palpatine #ian mcdiarmid #Star Wars #Revenge of the Sith #The Rise of Skywalker #Return of the Jedi

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