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#hello there!
koijikido · 2 months
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Elegant in a bun way ~✨
It was a pleasure to get you two to know each other 💙 Thank you for the wonderful time! I'm looking forward to our next happy meet~💙
@PeachyPinkBun 💓 @moonmoon-ren 💜
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lord-overlips · 3 months
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The Praxian Polar Night held the ruined city in its claws. Not many braved the cold, even the Constructicons had gone home for the week. But what appeared to be a minibot continued to scavenge through a clearly separated pile of scrap to be melted down and reused for repairs. It looked up, a strange light on the side of its helm obscuring details as it stared, frozen, at Overlord.
Ah, he'd missed that look. That simply gorgeous look of cold dread that left his victims paralysed. He could probably walk up to them right now and snap their neck with a flick of his servos before the poor bot even managed to move.
"Hello, sweetspark...." His lips curled in a broad, thoroughly pleased grin. "Fancy a game?"
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carcinoarmageddon · 1 year
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Anon: so how did you and eridan become civil?
part 3/3 (belated, but here!)
part 1
part 2
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choasuqeen · 2 months
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What's rattlesnake taste like
bland dry chicken actually
it was tough
but i did like it with alot of lime
i have the tail and skin still!!
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loveoaths · 1 year
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Give me a head canon about Star Wars in general!
i’m really into the idea that everyone’s connection to the force has a different sensory sensation and visualization behind it that is unique to their personage and their life journey.
for obi-wan, he visualizes the force as a light, a beacon: he has sought guidance his entire life, is often anxious about whether he’s making the right choices and the repercussions of his actions. when he’s concerned and can feel difficulties closing in around him like darkness, he can close his eyes and look into the force and see a bright, blinding lighthouse that guides him. he has spent his entire life chasing that light, eager to stay within its limits and not stray too far.
obi-wan’s force sensation is quietness/silence: he’s terribly anxious under all that training, so when he connects to the force, it dulls the outside world, and life shrinks down to silence save for the inner workings of his body, until those, too, taper off. in his head there is only light and silence. this, for obi-wan, is peace. no noise, no thoughts. and after deep breaths… clarity.
for someone like anakin, his force sensation might be heat and pressure. when he is strong in the force his temperature jumps several degrees beyond normal, his blood rushes and sings hot beneath his skin, and he can feel the force itself pressing down around him, inside and out, enveloping him in the stream of the universe itself. it’s intense and all consuming and takes all of his focus to direct it, because that which comforts and swaddles him like a weighted blanket can also drag him deep down into his own emotions. the force is one with his body more-so than his mind. it flows through his bones with ease, but he struggles to apply the depth of jedi philosophy despite knowing and understanding it.
anakin’s force visualization changes a lot over the years, but the most consistent visualization is metal, sometimes molten and fluid, other times solid and unshakeable; a foundation. for anakin, metal is a comfort: metal is a droid, the hilt of his saber, the solid flooring of his ship, the taste in the air of enemies defeated. metal is safety. it does not die and does not stray, and if you maintain it it will stay forever. it’s a shield and a bulwark and a weapon and a shelter and a home all at once, it is something that can be controlled and tinkered with, but it can also cut and hurt if you are careless, and it can melt and lose form if you don’t keep a tight grip on it.
for someone like maul, he visualizes the force as a many-eyed, many-fanged beast to be controlled. its always lurking in the dark, circling him, hunting for his weaknesses so it can clasp its maw around his neck and snap, but maul is paranoid and cunning and wary; he lures it in, he wrestles and beats it into submission, into yielding to his power, because that is all he knows. he was trained to fear everything, including the force, and part of that training was believing that if he does not control the force, it will control him; and because maul is afraid, he responds with aggression over and over again.
predictably, maul’s force sensation would be snarling teeth and old pain. using the force hurts him. at first he experiences an incredible burst of power and the vengeful euphoria associated with it, but the longer he uses it, the more it starts to hurt. it feels like papercuts splitting slowly under his skin, bleeding him from the inside; feels like bruises from his time at orsis academy; feels like the smoking choking crackle and burn of sidious’ presence bearing down on the back of his neck. it feels like eyes, always watching, and humiliation, and starving and bone-breaking cold on lotho minor. it feels familiar, and horribke, and that is why he can lean into it so strongly, because he hates what he’s been subjected to even though he doesn’t know anything else, and his pain and fear and anger collide to make him strong in the dark side of the force from an early age.
and the reason behind differing visualizations and sensations is, technically, a second general headcanon: the force is both an organic lifesource and a reflection. meaning it is alive, sure, but it mimics the soul and intention and desires of its wielder. the force is neither good nor bad; it is whatever the person using it is in that moment. jedi training focuses on the mirror aspect and teaches padawans to essentially buff that mirror, understand that the force takes on their shape and vice versa, and to make sure that whatever image the force projects through them is true to who they are and who they want to be, and not a warped reflection of them at their worst moments. meanwhile, the sith lean into that — the force is warped by their self image into something deadly, ambitious, greedy, and hungry, and that is why their presence hunts the light side of the force so avariciously.
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rubykraken · 3 months
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@hamadaprodigy
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So, he doesn't work for the government after all. Well, that's a relief. "Alright…so, do you want to know who i am? Promise that you'll keep this a top tier secret and not freak out?"
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waysxftheforce · 8 months
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@heartonanoose
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"You're kind generally aren't trusted here. Or anywhere. I almost didn't catch it... What you are."His voice was warped by the mask over his head, cautious as he looked her over and maintained distance none the less. He wasn't attacking and didn't look to, but wasn't against it if needed.
"I've heard about people like you, the ones who hunt you down because they're scared and can't trust you. I could help you with that... Someone like you could be.. very helpful."
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peacock-mooncat · 1 month
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Mood-board and gpose repository for the wandering jewel of Thavnair, Sierra Bihn Gamduhla.
carrd ⬩ gpose ⬩ lore ⬩ aesthetic (tag links coming soon once there's more posts!)
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smertzimy · 4 months
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@ashadowinwhite moved it from here
Yelena nodded at that, tapping her knee slightly. "I blame myself too. I don't think she would want it, people say it a lot. But I still wish..." She trailed off with a frustrated exhalation. "You should come visit her with me. I think she would like to see you. To see that you aren't alone. That none of us is alone. That she did what she meant to do."
"I know, i've heard them all don't worry." Buky sigh with a small shrugg of his shoulders. He didn't like to talk about this kind of things, it was always something that just ruined the rest of the day. Listing to Yelena talking, Bucky could feel his eye twitch. He knew she wanted to help but right now? It didn't do much of the helping part. "Yelena... Maybe one day i'll come with you okay?" He tried with a small smile. "I don't do well with graveyards."
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❝Easy, there. Try to sit up.❞ (from Ambrosine)
Dean groaned loudly and looked up at the other. “What the hell happened?” He asked then reached down to touch the large stab wound on his abdomen.
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@levixthxn-thegirl
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jabbers-wild-world · 29 days
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@chopperpirate liked for a starter from Alastor!
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“You seem to be new here! Welcome, to the Hazbin Hotel! Anything I can do for you?” Alastor leaned ever so slightly on his microphone as he eyed the newcomer before him, his head gently canted to the side.
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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 11 months
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the artifact
Part Ten (TEN!!!) of 212th Medic Skull Has Had Enough on ao3
| Part two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
Summary:
There were approximately three minutes of glorious silence as Skull opened his medkit and began to reorganize its contents.
Then there were hushed whispers filling the cabin.
“You shouldn’t have taken this mission, Obi-Wan. You know what happened the last time.” Cody’s voice was low, barely a whisper, but it couldn’t be ignored in the confines of the space.
(Or, a mission to Corellia leads Obi-Wan to another Sith artifact. Skull, Oxy, and Cody try to stop its effects before it's too late.)
Word Count: 10,647 (A hefty one, I know)
It had been almost two standard months since that dreaded night –the one sharing a bed with Quinlan– and Cody had only just stopped teasing Skull to the point of making the medic want to wring his neck. Sure, the flirting had been fun, and definitely something Skull secretly enjoyed despite the Commander’s endless commentary, but Quinlan was always on the move, never sticking around in one place for longer than a few days.
In other words, it was impractical to let anything other than flirting happen, it wouldn’t be able to last.
Skull was okay with it, especially the demands of his own job. The 212th had an unimaginable propensity, as an entire unit of men, to be riddled with endless medical issues and injuries unrelated to the war efforts. At least Skull wouldn’t be out of a job anytime soon. 
There had been a couple of weeks of leave on Coruscant, leaving Skull and Oxy with enough time and resources to finally procure a year’s supply of a medication that was strong enough to treat General Kenobi’s epilepsy. While it was difficult to get him sitting still for long enough in between Jedi responsibilities and Council meetings to explain the need for the medication, Skull was fairly certain Kenobi was taking it when his absence seizures had disappeared after two more weeks. 
With that resolved, and at bay for at least a year save for any additional Kenobi-related inconveniences, Skull finally felt free enough to spend his time researching new medications, unknown illnesses running through the ranks, and new types of flora he had come across in their travels. 
His latest research of a desert plant he’d found on Jakku led him to his lab in the Negotiator’s medbay on a particularly quiet day. No orders had been communicated from the ranks above, and the last of Skull’s patients had trickled out of the medbay the day before. 
Then– 
“Got new orders, Skully; suit up.” Oxy’s voice rang loud from the door outside his lab. 
Sighing– because he’d just begun to look at the healing properties of this particular plant, and he was making some headway– Skull stood from his creaky chair and left his lab behind.
“Where are we going this time? Please tell me not the desert.” He asked, collecting his scuffed armor from his desk and beginning to position each plastoid piece. 
“No, some city planet, small squadron. I’m thinking Jedi- osik. Diplomacy or whatever.” Oxy was practically shaking with excitement over the idea; Skull snorted. Oxy probably figured there would be drinks and bars and fun if they were headed for a diplomatic conference. 
“And you think they’ve requested medics for a diplomatic meeting? Must be some treaty.” Skull pulled his bucket over his head, grabbed his packed medical kit, and shrugged as they left Splint in charge and headed for the hangar. 
As predicted, the mission was not for diplomatic purposes, but rather one to retrieve a Sith artifact from the hands of a bounty hunter. From the look on Ahsoka’s face when Skywalker explained it, medics were brought along for a reason.  
Sith. Skull’s stomach rolled ominously. 
Skull had only heard fragments of conversations about Sith in his time surrounded by the Jedi, but he had been able to piece together a decent idea of what the Sith were. Dark, deceptive, Force-wielders; a direct contradiction to the Jedi. 
Skull shared a dubious look with Oxy. It was one thing to be thrown into battle with one hundred of the vode, and another to share a mission with the Jedi– Skull liked to think only the former had common sense.
It seemed Commander Cody shared the unease. He stared at Skull as he stepped off of the top of the ramp into the cruiser, lips in a hard, unmoving line. While he always appeared somewhat cross, he seemed particularly so in the moment. Beside him, Kenobi stood with his arms tucked within the arms of his cloak, his usual tranquil demeanor on display. However, there was something off about him, an edge that usually wasn’t there which lingered around his presence. 
“Outside of Coronet there is a rumored non-operating droid factory buried under farmland,” Skywalker spoke as the ship took off from the hangar. “Our intel shows there is a good chance the Sith artifact is hidden there. We will retrieve it, place it in the Force-suppressing shipping container,” Skywalker pointed to a durasteel case that sat in the corner of the room, “And ship it back to Coruscant.”
Silence enveloped the cabin, and Kenobi cleared his throat after a pause. 
“How do you suppose you will find a way in?” He asked, voice curiously low and shaky, unusual for the normally confident Jedi.
“Well, Obi-Wan, you’ll be happy to hear I already enlisted a spy to search for an entrance– and he has sent me the coordinates.” Skywalker seemed proud of himself, but the tension that had filled the cabin was more than telling of Kenobi’s feelings on the matter.
“And how do you… suppose you’ll retrieve it? Anakin– Sith artifacts can be dangerous.”  
Cody folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed at Skywalker like a predator hunting its prey. 
“Obi-Wan– it’s an artifact not an actual Sith lord– as long as we contain it before bringing it on board, I don’t think it should be an issue. Should be a simple in-and-out.” Skywalker looked at Kenobi expectantly, who didn’t respond.
Skull could see the worry that leaked into Kenobi’s eyes, and that wasn’t to be taken lightly. Kenobi usually wasn’t worried for no reason. 
“With all due respect, General, if this is an easy in-and-out, why are we here?” Skull asked, and punctuated the question with his thumb thrown in Oxy’s direction. It was a fair question, given Skywalker’s explanation of what their mission would entail; medics barely seemed like necessity. Skywalker opened his mouth, but before he could get a word in, Cody cleared his throat and took a step forward, looming just ahead of Kenobi. 
“As a precautionary measure. We don’t know what this Sith artifact is, much less how the Jedi react when they’re in contact with it.” Cody’s answer was spoken in an even tone, but Skywalker looked on with suspicion. 
From there, the conversation dissolved, no one really wanting to discuss the matter more, and no one wanting to be the one to cut through the waves of uneasiness. 
Oxy trudged off to one of the free enclosed bunks for a nap, and Ahsoka and Anakin wandered off toward the cockpit bickering about something. That left Skull in the slightly cramped main cabin with Kenobi and Cody. Fantastic. Wonderful. There was nothing Skull would rather do less than spend four or more hours trapped in an enclosed space with them.
Skull took the seat furthest from the pair, which was all of thirty feet, but it was enough that he hoped the two could have their space to discuss whatever it was they needed to discuss. Cody usually didn’t look so… intense. That was, unless there was something up, and Skull truly didn’t want to witness it. 
There were approximately three minutes of glorious silence as Skull opened his medkit and began to reorganize its contents. 
Then there were hushed whispers filling the cabin. 
“You shouldn’t have taken this mission, Obi-Wan. You know what happened the last time.” Cody’s voice was low, barely a whisper, but it couldn’t be ignored in the confines of the space. 
For the love of the Force. Skull wasn’t in the mood. 
“Cody… you know I must. Was I supposed to tell the Council no? Do you think they take no for an answer?” Kenobi usually didn’t have a bite in his tone, but this time, it rang clear with his punctuated words. Skull chanced a glance at the pair where they stood at the opposite end of the cabin and noted the red flush on Kenobi’s cheeks. Cody leaned against the wall, arms still folded across his chest and his bucket on the floor between his legs. Kenobi sat in a seat against the wall, his legs crossed in his lap like he had intentions to meditate.
So much for that, Skull supposed. 
“They could have sent someone else, they know what you went through… the suffering.” Cody shook his head into his hands with a deep sigh. 
The suffering. The word piqued Skull’s interest. General Kenobi, as Skull had come to find out, was a deeply complicated man, both in personality and medically. For that reason, and in lieu of recent events, Skull had extracted and read every element of his personal file, and all the additional paperwork that had been shoved into a folder by way of crumpled flimsies. Yet, there was nothing he could recall regarding an incident with a Sith artifact. 
“And I don’t? I am indeed self-sufficient, Commander. I know what I can and cannot handle.” The General shifted, arms folding into his brown, flowing sleeves, as if he were trying to compose himself. 
“This isn’t a good idea, and you know it.” Cody responded after a moment, and turned to head toward the cockpit. He didn’t bother to spare one of his angry glances at Skull, and nearly stomped past him through the doorway.
For a few moments, there was silence, and Skull thought he might have a relieving four hours to himself and his medkit.
“I’m sorry, Skull. You didn’t need to hear that.” Kenobi's eyes were slightly watery when Skull looked up at him; even from far away the medic could tell he was blinking back tears. 
“I–” Skull wished he could deny he heard anything at all, keep himself out of whatever little love-quarrel was going on, “It’s alright, General. I’ve heard worse from the two of you.” 
He hoped it would lighten the mood, a small joke, but Kenobi only hummed and seemed to curl in on himself even more, if possible. Skull was surprised he didn’t immediately begin meditating. Skull pondered him for a moment, the thought of that supposed suffering still niggling at the back of his mind. 
“I do have a question, Sir, if you don’t mind.” Skull asked as Kenobi nodded once, “Cody mentioned there was suffering ah… the last time. The last time you were in contact with a Sith artifact?” It was barely a question, and Skull kicked himself for the awkwardness of it all. 
“I– it was early on in the War. Barely a memory now…” Kenobi’s gaze was fixed somewhere in the distance as his voice trailed off.
“Uh, General?” Skull said after a moment of waiting.
“Sorry, Skull. I don’t wish to rehash it.” While Skull wished he could leave it alone, let the General enjoy his own suffering alone, but medics were not enlisted to be here for no reason. Clearly, someone thought a medic was needed, and he had his suspicions it was Kenobi. 
“Apologies, Sir, I don’t mean to pry, but I’d like to know ahead of time why exactly a medical staff has been brought on for this.” Kenobi blinked down at the floor before tilting his head to look in Skull’s direction. 
“It’s… complicated, I suppose. If you must know, I had a reaction the last time I was in the presence of a Sith artifact. More mental than physical, not anything to be too worried–” Skull wasn’t about to let him continue to ramble trying to disguise the true nature of what had happened. 
“A reaction, Sir?” The alarm bells were ringing loud and clear. The last time Kenobi informed him of having a reaction he had been minutes away from anaphylactic shock on some rainforest planet in the Outer Rim. 
“Reaction might have been a strong word to use– more like a mental inconvenience if you will.” Kenobi blinked at him innocently like the truth hadn’t been buried layers deep inside of his thick skull. 
Skull wanted to question him more, grill him until there was no doubt about what exactly a kriffing mental inconvenience was, but there was an easier option. Although that option was likely to be less pleasant, Cody would tell him the brutal intricacies of the truth, or an extreme exaggeration depending on his mood. Regardless, Cody was at least a twenty-percent more reliable source than Kenobi when it came to Kenobi problems. 
So Skull nodded, letting the conversation trail to a stop as naturally as he could. 
He took to organizing his kit again, rearranging the gauze and bandages so they were next to each other and grouping all of his remaining bacta products together. “I’m going to see where we are at for time.” Skull said after half an hour had passed, and Kenobi nodded again, strangely silent. 
He pushed past the sliding doorway and was surprised to find that Cody wasn’t in the cockpit as expected. Rather, he was sitting in the space between the doors to the cabin cockpit, one knee pulled up toward his chest and one of his hands twirling his bucket on the floor. 
He looked up when Skull snorted, his own arms crossing over his chest. “Got tired on your way to the cockpit, Commander?” Skull asked, forcing an eye roll from Cody.
“No. Just didn’t want to be around a kriffing Jedi.” Skull could understand the sentiment. The Jedi were often his deepest point of annoyance. 
“Welcome to the war, brother.” Skull said with a laugh. “Now, are you going to tell me what that was all about? You left him all teary-eyed.” 
Cody shook his head, a sigh heavy on his lips. “Is it really your business, Skull?” 
“Whatever your little squabble is about is the reason I’m here. So yes, it is, in fact, my business.” Why did Cody always have to make things so karking difficult? It felt like pulling teeth. “What was Kenobi’s reaction to the Sith artifact? It wasn’t in his file, and hells– Skywalker doesn’t seem to know about either. But you do.” 
That same tension, and possibly a hint of frustration, swirled between them and radiated from Cody. The man in question bit his lip. “His reaction– it was something like rejection. His body rejected a Sith artifact before– before you were assigned to the 212th. There was a mission to a Sith planet called Zigoola, almost a year ago now. Obi-Wan and Bail Organa–”
“The senator?” It sounded absurd to think that a senator would be involved, but it would explain the fairly close relationship Kenobi held with Organa. 
“Yes– the senator– they took a mission to this planet, and I don’t know all of the details, but they sustained… rather severe injuries. And Obi-wan–” Cody looked slightly choked up where he sat staring at something past Skull, “He told me this artifact weakened him, made him sick and broken. Made him want to die. Commanded him to die.”
Skull’s heart beat thunderously inside his ribcage at the thought of Kenobi withering under the trance of some magical artifact. To a clone, it didn’t seem possible. It was hard to believe all of the Force -osik when he had never felt it himself. He needed to research it, and quickly.
“What were the physical symptoms? Do you know?” Skull asked as evenly as possible. He wished he could be more comforting, but it wasn’t his area of expertise, and Cody wouldn’t want that anyway. 
“Mostly illness and hallucinations– bleeding from his eyes and nose– he fell down a ravine in a haze. It’s how he fucked up his leg.” Cody’s words flowed out quickly, like he had memorized lines. Skull empathized, it was a lot of swallow. “And that’s not even the worst of it.”  
“Not the worst?” Skull felt his own voice waver. 
“No. His leg– he made Organa use his lightsaber to hurt him. The pain was the only thing that kept that fucking Sith thing from killing him.” Cody seethed with every word, spitting them out in a ruthless whisper as he squeezed his bucket between his hands. “The Council knows what happened– they know how dangerous these artifacts can be– but they still asked him to come. Skywalker and Ahsoka don’t know the whole story either– they can’t see the danger.” 
Skull let himself go numb and tried not to imagine the absolute trauma Kenobi had experienced. To allow lightsaber wounds to be repetitively inflicted, to ask for the searing pain, would only be possible as an act of desperation. Whatever had been happening inside the General’s mind, with the Force , must have been much worse. Unimaginable pain; suffering. 
“He didn’t ask to be excluded?” Skull asked tentatively watching Cody’s knuckles turn white where he still gripped his helmet. 
“He’s too kriffing proud for that. Now here we are.” It checked out; Kenobi had always seemed to have an endless desire to help others, to save the Republic, and bring peace to the galaxy. To his own detriment, that was. 
“Well kriff. He shouldn’t fucking be here.” Skull voiced his thoughts as he tried to work out his course of action. Maybe it was time he meddled in this karking relationship, yet again. 
“I can’t make him listen to me.” Cody muttered, shaking his head. 
“Let’s talk to him. Together. I’m a reasonable person.” Skull suggested, testing the waters with the extent he’d be allowed to insert himself into the situation. 
“Fine. Let’s go.” 
Cody was apparently desperate then.
In the main cabin Kenobi hadn’t moved from where he sat, legs folded. Although, it seemed whatever meditation he had tried didn’t work. Instead, he sat perfectly still while he stared at the far wall with unblinking eyes. 
“Sir?” He asked, Cody trailing a few steps behind him. The General’s head snapped toward them and he swallowed deeply. 
“Oh. Hello.” His voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Are you alright?” Skull asked, noting the way Kenobi’s eyes were slightly bloodshot. He blinked a few times, and rubbed at his eyes. 
“Fine– a headache, that’s all.” Kenobi answered simply. Skull eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t press further.
“In that case, I have a quick question: are you kidding Kenobi?” It could have been phrased as a joke, but it clearly wasn’t. Kenobi winced. “Cody’s right– you shouldn’t be doing this. As your medic, I cannot authorize this mission. Why was Zigoola not in your file?” Skull knew it was a bombardment of accusations and questions, but the man needed to hear it, even if Kenobi flinched when Zigoola was mentioned by name. 
“I’m afraid I cannot acquiesce to your request.” The response was too simple, Kenobi’s face too blank yet determined all at once. Confusing. 
“Obi-Wan– we’re serious–” Cody growled, but Obi-Wan stood, his slightly taller stature now making him rise above them both. 
“No, Commander, I’m serious. I am a Jedi, and duty comes above all else. I have been asked to supervise this mission for the safety of Anakin and Ahsoka, and I intend to do so as planned. My experience has proven invaluable to the order and I will do what I must.” 
Kenobi brushed past them, always the dramatic, and headed for the cockpit. 
Stunned silence was decidedly Skull’s least favorite type. 
   The cabin was silent even as everyone gathered in its center, now only minutes from landing on the surface of Corellia. 
There had been several hours for Skull to search through the holonet, gathering whatever available information he could on Sith artifacts and the Jedi reaction to them. While there wasn’t much information available, most of it matched what Cody had described. Mostly– it was an overwhelming illness that could take down even the strongest of Jedi. Even make them fall. Sure, Skywalker had been said to be an anomaly, but there was a chance the effects of the artifact could be enough to make the young Jedi lose his way. 
While research usually made Skull feel more prepared and confident, this time, it made his stomach churn ominously. Oxy shared the sentiment, his usual smile faltering into something of a disgruntled frown. 
Skywalker reviewed the plan again, indicating that General Kenobi would stay aboard, medics as well and Ahsoka and Cody would join him. Skull and Oxy would just have to wait, holding their breath for word on whether the artifact had been secured or not.
“Alright Snips, Cody, ready to go?” Skywalker asked, smiling at his Padawan. Ahsoka offered him a watery smile.
“Sure Skyguy. Let’s get this done.” She sounded less confident than she looked, which was saying something. Cody grunted, but didn’t bother to utter a word. 
Kenobi, while usually not afraid to voice his final concerns and words of advice, was oddly silent, his mouth shut and eyes void of any indication of emotion. Skywalker spared a look back at him as he walked down the ramp, but Kenobi had already turned to walk toward the cockpit, hand scratching at the edges of his beard.
   It had been an hour since any communication had come through the comm channel and Skull couldn’t help but nervously wring his hands together as he paced the length of the cabin. On any ordinary mission he wouldn’t feel the searing sting of anxiety pulsing through his veins, but ordinary missions didn’t include Sith artifacts mixed with reckless Jedi. 
“It’s been too long– something went wrong.” Oxy hissed, checking his comlink again. He shook his head and sighed. Skull wanted to disagree, but Skywalker was the chatty type.
Kenobi hadn’t made an appearance from the cockpit since the two younger Jedi had left either. Given the circumstances, Skull was not surprised, but there was a chance Skywalker had been in contact with him. “I’ll go see if the General has heard anything.” Skull said, already heading toward the doorway. 
Upon entering the cockpit, Skull was surprised to find both seats empty, and Kenobi nowhere in sight. His heart skipped a beat as he swore silently. 
Kriff. 
Skull’s heart hammered against the inside of his chest for what felt like the twentieth time that day. 
Where the kriff was he?
Skull gripped his blaster where it clung to his hip and let his eyes scour the area for intruders. No glass was broken and there didn’t appear to be any signs of forced entry. Skull would have systematically searched the space, but he heard a small noise that brought his attention to the left side, just past where the copilot’s chair was situated. 
On the floor, head buried between his knees, and fingers pulling at the roots of his hair, Kenobi sat. 
Karking hells!
Skull wasted no time falling to his knees next to him and his own hands pulled at the white-knucked fingers Kenobi had laced in his hair. “Sir! Sir– please stop.” Kenobi either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care, because his grip only became tighter and he jerked away from Skull’s touch. 
“M-make it stop! Stop!” His voice was hoarse as he yelled out, and the tears that hadn’t fallen earlier now streamed down his rust red cheeks. 
“What– make what stop?” Skull responded, but it was less of a question, and more of a realization as the words left his mouth. 
Oh. This was what Cody had described; there was something in the General’s mind scratching at his consciousness and clawing into the crevices of his mind. It was the Sith artifact, now supposedly close enough to have an effect. 
Suffering. That’s what had begun.
Kenobi’s yells continued, summoning a confused, then immediately focused Oxy. “It’s the artifact.” Oxy said, dropping to his knees, medical kit clunking to the floor beside him, “Sedation maybe? Will that help?” 
The truth was, Skull wasn’t sure, which was a rarity in itself. His research had been enough to identify the possible reactions that would come with close contact, but there hadn’t been any known way to prevent these symptoms. Was it safe to sedate him? Skull couldn’t be certain, but it had become increasingly apparent that something needed to happen. 
Kenobi let his hands crawl down his legs, fingernails burying themselves into the skin of his thighs and calves through the thin fabric of his leggings. 
Skull felt himself gasp, immediately ripping the General’s bloodied hands away from him, “General! No– yes, Oxy, prep the hypo.” Oxy worked quicker than most medics, hands almost immediately stabbing the full syringe into Kenobi’s exposed neck. 
There was a silent second– save for Kenobi’s increasingly loud sobs– then his body relaxed just enough that Skull was able to let go of his hands and reach for his head instead where it was still locked between his knees. As expected, per Cody’s description, there was blood everywhere. 
Spewing from his nostrils and dripping from his eyes– hells, even trickling down from his ears. Blood splattered onto the floor faster than Skull could process the fact that it needed to stop. Oxy, three steps ahead, was already digging through the medical kit.
“We need gauze.” Skull murmured numbly. Then– gauze appeared. It was already soaked with blood the second Skull pressed it against Kenobi’s nose and pinched to stop the flow, “Can you clean up his eyes?” Skull asked, his free hand dabbing at the General’s ears.
“Stop! P-Please– don’t!” Kenobi’s sobs continued, though they slowed as the sedative slowly worked its way into his bloodstream. It made Skull’s chest hurt. 
“We need to contact Skywalker– he and Tano could be affected.” Oxy was calm as he pressed more gauze against Kenobi’s eyes. 
“Yes but– I– the bleeding needs to stop.” Skull responded, removing the soaked-through gauze from Kenobi’s face and pressing more back on; it barely made a difference. He agreed with Oxy, they needed to know if Skywalker was experiencing any of the effects.
“Skywalker, come in!” Skull practically yelled in his comlink. He was far too overwhelmed to care if it sounded rude.
“Skull– we’re on our way out.” It was curious– Skywalker’s voice was level, not a note of pain in it. It seemed the artifact barely had an effect on him at all. 
“Ahsoka– is she fine?” Skull hated the way his voice wavered. 
“Uh– yes?” Skywalker’s confusion was evident, “Why wouldn’t she be? This thing is basically a rock– doesn’t really seem like a Sith artifact–”
“Put it in the containment unit. Now.” Skull used the voice he’d usually use on Cody when he was being difficult in the medbay. Skull hoped that would fix the problem and cut the karking artifact off from hurting the General, but that was all it was, a hope. 
“Sure– fine. What’s happening?” Skywalker’s tone didn’t convey the urgency that Skull felt crawling through his own form. It was too difficult to explain in the heat of the moment, Kenobi’s desperate whimpers for mercy loud enough to drown out Skull’s thoughts. 
“ Just do it, Skywalker.” 
Skull waited, breath caught in his throat waiting for the symptoms to reside. 
But the symptoms didn’t, and Kenobi didn’t stop yelling, voice only seeming to get louder. 
“It’s not working– whatever that thing is– it doesn’t respond to Force-suppression!” Oxy uttered loudly, looking frazzled where he attempted to staunch the flow of blood still running from the General’s eyes. 
Skull let it sink it, the overwhelming dread he had been keeping at bay now for hours. He had no prior knowledge on these artifacts, much less their effect on the Jedi, and he certainly wasn’t trained in how to fucking fix his Genenral. The only person who might have a semblance of an idea was Kenobi himself, who was indisposed. The next best option would have to be Cody.
Again, Skull spoke harshly into his comlink, impatience bleeding into his tone, “Cody, come in! Force-suppression isn’t working on that karking thing!” 
There was a telling silence, then Cody’s voice crackled over the line, “ Fuck,” The Commander breathed loudly, voice barely reaching a whisper. 
“How do we get this to stop, Cody? He’s bleeding.” Skull asked, almost pleading. 
“I– Obi-Wan told me the one on Zigoola was destroyed. That might be the only way to make it stop. Is he…?” Cody stammered in a whispered tone, which was unusual to say the least. 
“Kenobi’s not looking good. Just convince Skywalker to destroy it, and don’t come any closer.”
Skull silently prayed to the Force the kriffing young Jedi would listen to Cody. 
Kenobi’s condition did not change as the minutes passed. Though the bleeding slowly became less and less, the General began to twitch uncomfortably, limbs trashing out in front of him.
“Woah– woah! General, stop!” Skull yelled out as Kenobi pushed himself upward, eyes blown wide. He seemed like he couldn’t hear or see anything, his gaze set on something in the distance. Skull watched as Kenobi’s hand slowly moved toward his hip, fingers clasping over the metallic shaft of his lightsaber where it was attached to his hip. “Oxy! Get back!” Skull yelled, immediately realizing what was about to happen. 
Cody had mentioned hallucinations, but this was not the type that Skull had imagined. 
He and Oxy backed away from the General where he now stood, the hilt of his lightsaber extended in front of him. While the blade hadn’t appeared, Skull was convinced it would and somehow, he needed to get Kenobi out of the cockpit before he destroyed it. 
“Ventress… you shouldn’t be here.” Kenobi suddenly sobered, like he wasn’t out of his mind, and the scorching blue of his lightsaber raised up in front of his face. The glow of it reflected into his focused eyes as he scanned over something beyond Skull’s shoulder. 
“We need to get him out of here!” Oxy said, panic laced in his tone. The medic backed away from where Kenobi now pressed forward toward him. 
“Just–” Skull couldn’t think, not with a bloody-faced General Kenobi staring back at him, “Run– let’s see if he follows.” 
So they did, and Kenobi, for better or worse, followed. 
He swung his lightsaber at nothing, and it glided through the air with the same ease it did when Kenobi tore through a crowd of clankers. The fiery blue blade scraped against the sides of the cabin as Skull and Oxy pressed toward the ramp. With every screech of scorched metal, Skull cringed, hoping it wouldn’t affect the integrity of the ship and their ability to escape this Force-forsaken planet.
They backed down the ramp, Kenobi still swinging as he Force-jumped down to the ground where they had landed on an open patch of mud and grass in a clearing of dense trees. 
“You won’t escape this time!” Kenobi growled as he pierced a tree to his right and twisted violently to cut through the trunk of another on his left. In any ordinary circumstance, Skull would have been impressed with his remarkable skill, but this time there was no foe in sight, just the silence of the forest as an enemy. 
“Cody! Do you have an ETA on destroying that kriffing thing?” Skull yelled into his comlink as he and Oxy ducked underneath the ramp, just nearly avoiding another violent swing of Kenobi’s lightsaber where it dug into the side of the durasteel. 
“Working on it.” Cody growled after a moment.
“Well work on it faster– Kenobi’s cutting down every tree in sight–” Skull paused to gasp as the General slammed onto the ramp, using it to launch himself into the branches of a large pine tree that swayed under his weight, “Kriff! Just– he’s losing his mind. He’s seeing Ventress.”  
“– hold on.” This time Cody seemed panicked, and Skull could hear him saying something away from his comlink, “I’m coming.” 
   They were at a standstill, and had been for some time. Getting into the empty droid factory had been easy enough; it was still under construction and didn’t yet contain working machinery. 
There had been a collection of battle droids stationed outside of a clearing by the edge of the farmland, and strangely, not another indication of life or other droids. Skywalker and Ahsoka had easily taken them out as Cody searched the surrounding area for any hidden cameras, traps, or tracking equipment. Though he didn’t find anything, nothing could stop the pained nervousness that had uncomfortably settled in his stomach. 
Obi-Wan’s description of his last interaction with an artifact of the Sith still made Cody nauseous. 
It had been almost too easy for Skywalker to locate the artifact using the Force. It was hidden inside of a vault furthest from the underground entrance, only requiring the misdirection of one droideka. The vault itself was password locked, but Skywalker had managed to bypass it by taking down the security system in the matter of minutes.
That had been when Skull commed Skywalker with a curious sense of urgency that made the hair on the back of Cody’s head stand up straight. It was true, the artifact looked more like a stone than anything, and from what Cody could tell, neither Ahsoka or Skywalker appeared to have any lasting effects. 
“It just feels… strange.” Ahsoka whispered to Cody as Skywalker bickered with Skull, “Like tickle in my mind, nothing worse than that.” She shrugged and rolled it on the ground with her foot. 
Cody grunted and adjusted the containment unit under his arm. 
“Let’s put it in the box; Skull seems nervous about it, and I don’t want him on my back.” Skywalker said suddenly, reaching down and pulling the stone-smooth object up with him. Cody, uneasiness only growing by the second, unlatched the box and allowed Skywalker to place it inside. Hurriedly, he closed the case and latched it before typing in the code to trigger its Force-suppressing qualities. 
For minutes they walked silently through the empty halls of the factory, weaving between unused machinery and dusty tables. Skywalker stayed alert and in front, eyeing any slight noise with suspicion. 
Then suddenly, the mechanical sound of battle droids talking startled the three of them, coming from the railing around the outside of the top part of the factory.
“Did you hear that?” One droid said. Cody looked up at the same time as both Jedi. 
How had they not noticed before?
Along the edges of the walkway that spanned the circumference of the top of the factory, there were clankers stationed equidistant from each other. From what Cody could see, it seemed like there were hundreds of them, at least four hundred if he had to take a guess. Kriff. 
“Those weren’t there before.” Skywalker whispered harshly, just loud enough for Ahsoka and Cody to hear, “They must have caught wind of our movement. Doesn’t seem like they’ve called reinforcements.” 
Right, not yet at least.
“What do we do?” Ahsoka asked, glancing around them like she was looking for a closer exit. There wasn’t one– not one that would lead them back out to the edge of the farmland near their ship, and Cody was certain they didn’t want to risk running through someone’s farm. 
It was then, in the silence of the empty factory, that Cody’s comlink crackled to life. Panic flaring, Cody shoved it into the fabric of Skywalker’s cloak in an attempt to silence it as he lowered the volume. Skywalker, ever the dramatic, shot him look, eyebrows raising.
The minute Cody finished his whispered conversation with Skull, he felt himself go pale. 
“We need to destroy it. Obi-Wan– he’s having a… reaction. It’s not worth it for research if he’s in pain.” Cody whispered loudly.
“What do you mean by a ‘reaction?’ It’s– we’re at least a klick away from him. How can it even have an effect that far away?” Skywalker answered as he started to attempt to move forward, the droid voices silent again. 
Cody caught his arm, keeping him in place. 
“No– we shouldn’t get any closer. It’s got Sith properties, Sir.” Cody growled, “It’s breaking his mind.”  
Skywalker didn’t appear to want to believe him, even as they discussed it further and Cody explained what exactly he meant by breaking his mind. The more Skywalker resisted, the more Cody wanted to slap some sense into him. 
Your former Master is suffering! Do something about it!
He wished he could yell those words, but instead, he gritted his teeth.
Eventually, the second desperate comm from Skull finally convinced Skywalker. And now they were here, stopped in the middle of the factory, surrounded by armed droids. 
“Well what do you suggest we do? Blow it up with a grenade? Every battle droid in this place will try to kill us!” Skywalker glanced downward, arms crossed and the stone-like Sith artifact on the concrete floor beneath him. They had opened the case, now staring at the smooth object as they stood in a triangle around it. 
Cody didn’t have an answer, but he was fairly certain some sort of Force -osik could do the trick. 
“Can’t you do something– with the Force, I mean?” Cody whispered and pointed toward the artifact, “It’s a rock you said it yourself. It can’t be that difficult to destroy.” 
Skywalker grunted, and uncrossed his arms, then lifted a hand to scratch at his chin. The thoughtless movement made a spike of longing run through Cody’s chest. It was an unconscious movement, but one that was undeniably reminiscent of Obi-Wan and his tendency to stroke absently at his beard while deep in thought. 
Cody needed to go to him, to protect him. He didn’t want to wait any longer. 
Cody tried to ignore the guilt that clawed at him; if only that he had tried harder to convince Obi-Wan to drop the mission, to defy the expectations of a clearly flawed decision of the Jedi Council. 
“I need to go to him.” Cody said with a swallow, “I don’t care how you do it, but get rid of it. The safety of your Master depends on it.” 
With that, and without a sound, Cody ran for exit. 
   Skull cursed under his breath as he– yet again– watched Kenobi ruthlessly stab his lightsaber into the remains of a tree trunk he had already cut from its roots. While the Jedi had initially referenced Ventress in his chaotic screams, now he seemed to think he was caught in the midst of an onslaught of clankers. 
Skull knew the Jedi were strong and were built for endurance, but Kenobi had been at it for almost half-an-hour at full speed, never slowing for a second, even to catch his breath. Blood still painted his face and neck, making him look all the more deranged as he destroyed nearly anything that crossed his path. 
“We need to get him to stop.” Oxy reiterated for now the third time, not looking away from the forest of carnage in front of them. 
“Yeah? And how do you suggest we do that when he’s swinging his lightsaber around like that?” Skull snapped and gesticulated to another violent swing of the blue blade in the distance. He immediately shook his head apologetically, “Sorry.” 
Oxy just sighed and checked his comlink. “I sent another message to Cody– where the kriff is he?” Skull shared the sentiment. If anyone was going to get the General out of whatever stupor this was, Cody was going to be their best shot. 
As if on cue, Skull received a text comm message and stared down at the words. 
Look right. 
Behind a line of trees, Cody was crouched behind some brush, just the slight gold accents of his armor visible through the tall grass. Skull sighed in relief. With shaky fingers, he typed out his response. 
On my signal, come here. We need your help. 
Skull waited for Kenobi to turn around, slashing into more fallen branches where he faced away from Cody’s position in the brush, and then signaled the Commander to join him. With the grace of a skilled soldier, Cody wasted no time running behind the silhouettes of trees, footsteps silent among the loud gasps that emitted from Kenobi’s form. 
Cody crouched and crawled beneath the ramp, pulling his bucket from his head, “Hallucinations…” He said, near breathless, and eyes slightly red-rimmed. 
“It’s been at it for a long time– he is going to hurt himself.” Skull said, watching another tree fall to the ground, “Do you think you can distract him? Oxy and I think we can disarm him from behind.” Oxy looked wary at the suggestion, but their options were limited. It seemed unlikely Obi-Wan would willingly set down his lightsaber at this point. 
“I can… I can try.” Cody said, still whispering.
“Any luck on getting the artifact destroyed?” Oxy asked cautiously, flinching at the sound of another fallen tree-trunk. 
“They’re working on it… there were complications.” Cody answered with a swallow and held his bucket tightly in his arms. “Let’s focus on Obi-Wan– he’s–” Cody bit his lip, “He looks bad.”
Skull agreed, the image in front of them was borderline horrific, if purely for blood alone. 
“We can stay here if you can get him turned around in the opposite direction.” Skull said, “We’ll disarm him from behind and see if we can get him on the ground. Let’s hope he doesn’t… throw us.” The last thing Skull needed was to be Force-thrown across a forest. 
With a nod, Cody slipped on his bucked and dislodged his blaster. Then, he was gone, racing across the littering of branches and stumps to secure the General’s attention. 
Skull held his breath watching as Cody launched himself in front of the General, still keeping a reasonable distance, and one arm raised above his head as if it were a sign of surrender. The hand with his blaster was firmly locked behind his back, a precautionary measure. 
“Obi-Wan! Look at me! It’s not real– none of it is real!” Cody yelled out, his voice hoarse and eyes watering. Skull wanted to look away.
Kenobi paused, his lightsaber snapping upward from where he had stabbed it into a trunk now laid horizontally across the ground. He looked hazy still, eyes not quite focused, but he stared in Cody’s direction, eyes open wide for a moment.
“C-Cody?” Kenobi said, lightsaber blade disappearing into the hilt and stumbling toward Cody. 
Skull motioned to Oxy and they made their move, feet slamming into the mud and flattened brush just as General turned his back. They reached him in seconds, Skull’s hand successfully dislodging the metal hilt from Kenobi’s grip as Oxy wrapped his arms around Kenobi, pulling him down to his knees.
“Cody! M-make it stop!” Kenobi yelled as Oxy pulled him backwards so he was almost sitting in his lap. Skull threw the lightsaber toward the ramp and pinned the General’s legs to the ground with his hands as he thrashed violently in their hold. 
Suddenly, Cody was there on his knees by Kenobi’s side, a shaking hand pressing into the man’s bloody hair. “Obi-Wan, I need you to listen to me. It’s Cody– It’s me.”  
Desperation. Anguish. Longing. 
A thousand emotions flashed through Cody’s eyes and Skull hated himself for noticing; it felt like a violation. 
“No– no! Cody please. Please. ” Obi-Wan resisted, his uncoordinated movements causing his arms and head to slam into the mud. 
It was a useless plea, Cody seemed to realize that, but still he whispered every variation of, “It will be over soon.” 
Not soon enough, Skull thought bitterly as he reviewed their options again. For now, the General was incapacitated, but Skull feared that wouldn’t last for long. He had only had a single bout of sanity in his rampage through the forest, only for a few seconds at that, and he was bound to attempt the use of the Force to throw them aside any minute now. 
Think Skull. Think. 
Then, it came to him.
“Pain. That’s what you said– the only way to keep him sane is with pain.” The words rang in Skull’s mind, making his stomach twist with impending nausea. It was his job to protect the Vode and the General, and he took that to heart. It was his job to stop pain and to heal wounds and to make sure everyone was alive and well. To inflict pain, on purpose, went against every fiber of his being.
Yet, there didn’t seem to be another viable option. Whatever effect the sedative dosage had earlier was not enough to stop the artifact’s effectiveness, and without the use of the Force, there wasn’t another method they had left to try. 
Cody looked up, lips drawn into a wavering line. “I– there isn’t another option.” Equally as much as Skull wanted to protest, they both understood in that moment the gravity of the situation. 
It had to be done. 
Oxy looked on warily. Skull shook his head and cleared his throat, “We need an injury painful enough to keep him present, but not bad enough we can’t fix it. Something that won’t bleed to profusely– he can’t lose much more blood. A laceration, maybe ah, uh–”
“A burn.” Cody spoke up, iron grip on Obi-Wan’s white-knucked hands. “Bail burned him.”
Skull and Oxy both stared at him knowing exactly what he meant. The scars on Kenobi’s knee had been enough to make that inference before. Skull eyed the lightsaber where it had landed in the grass next to the ramp. 
“Alright…” He said softly as Oxy stood, quickly retrieving the gleaming metal hilt. One look at it was enough to make Skull nauseous. 
“I can do it.” Skull spoke in the most confident tone he could muster. He was the lead medic of the 212th, a leader to many others and a friend to the two men suffering before him. No matter how visceral his initial reaction was, this was his job, and it needed to be done. 
Oxy handed him the lightsaber and Skull held it tightly in his hand. He scanned over the General’s body, considering the best location for the burn. There wasn't a good choice, it would be torturous no matter what, but he needed a location that would induce the least permanent damage. 
“Cody, roll up his sleeve. I’ll use his left forearm.” It was simple, the forearm was easy to pin down, and it wasn’t the arm he held his lightsaber with. Skull didn’t feel like damaging his leg again. 
It felt like slow motion, Cody rolling up Kenobi’s sleeve, Skull’s finger on the trigger of the lightsaber, the sizzling burning noise that emitted from the blue blade.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Skull said, voice low in the midst of more sobbing, more tears streaming from his General’s eyes, even before the blade touched his skin, “I’m so sorry.” 
With that, Skull lowered the lightsaber toward the exposed skin. 
   “Um, Master?” The prolonged silence was broken by Ahsoka’s soft voice, “I have an idea.”
For a moment, Skywalker allowed himself a dubious look, but then offered his Padawan a nod, “Sure, Ahsoka.”
“Well– I was thinking I might be able to use the Force to um– implode it? And you could suppress the sound?”
Anakin searched his mind for recollection of what he had been taught about using the Force as a sound suppressant. He recalled a time in his youth where Obi-Wan had used it to suppress the noise of a crying rescued child as they had pushed through a thick crowd of strangers in some city on Bespin. 
It had seemed easy enough then, but he didn’t want to go in blind. 
“Let me try it first.” He muttered, “Make a noise or something.” 
Ahsoka tapped her foot lightly against the concrete floor, eyes trained on Anakin as he sucked in a deep breath and focused on the Force’s energy swirling within his mind. He closed his eyes, channeling everything toward the distant tapping noise. As he did so, the tapping noise faded into obscurity, hidden behind an invisible wall he had constructed to stop its effects. 
After a moment, he snapped his eyes open, focus gone, and the tapping noise returned. 
Ahsoka offered a soft smile. “It worked.” She said, and pointed toward the artifact, “Now just to suppress an implosion.” 
Anakin sighed. Right, that was the hard part. While it hadn’t required much focus to stop a small tapping noise, to stop the noise of an implosion would require much more effort. 
“Let’s hope this works.” He said, “Now, let’s see about imploding this thing.” 
   Die Jedi. Die Jedi. Die Jedi. Die Jedi.
The chant of the Sith burned him from the inside out, searing in his bloodstream and rattling against the inside of the Skull. Well it hurt on a physical level, it pierced into the Force with a strength so severe and endless that it made the Force itself hurt.  
Obi-Wan’s vision was hazy, coated with a mixture of blood and flashing images of war. 
Ventress periodically flashed across his view, then droids, then Anakin’s face, covered with burns and soot. It made him scream, the noises hurtling from his throat without permission. 
I’m right here. 
It will be over soon.
I’m sorry.
Among the commands to die there was an odd interspersing of comforts; they floated just around the edges of his consciousness. Just as quickly as they would come, they were gone again, replaced with an even louder more menacing chant of the same words.
Die Jedi. Die Jedi. Die Jedi. 
Obi-Wan thought he heard himself beg to make it stop, but he couldn’t be sure. Nothing felt real anymore, any previous emotions replaced with pain and horror and death. 
I’m sorry, Sir. I’m so sorry.
He heard those words again, then whatever pain that had materialized in the Force slowly morphed into something more tangible, something easier to grip, but no less painful.
He screamed this time, and it felt concrete, like it wasn’t just a dream. His eyes slammed open, revealing three clones– Cody, he recognized instantly among the faces.
His arm burned like nothing else, Skin on fire as he watched a blue blade press against his exposed arm.
But at least this pain was manageable, palpable, real. 
Die Jedi. 
The command didn’t stop, but it slowly faded into a whisper.
It was a perplexing kind of relief. 
   “It’s working.” Oxy said, “General?” Skull paused, bringing the lightsaber up where it had only been burning against the flesh for a few seconds. Yet, the General’s eyes were clearer, less muddled, and his screams had been reduced to a whimper. 
Kenobi blinked, his other hand reaching out, “C-Cody?” This time, his voice seemed to have a level of coherence that it had not before. 
The Commander did not immediately react, shock still painted across his features, but he reached out to grasp the General’s bloody and outstretched hand, “Obi-Wan. Are you…” 
“T-thank you. Thank you. Keep going.” Obi-Wan’s sigh was desperate, but also relieved as more tears spilled down his cheeks.
“Are you sure, Sir?” Skull asked shakily, lightsaber still held inches above the new burn wound. It looked awful and smelled of burning skin.
“Yes. It won’t–” He sucked in labored breath and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. Skull wanted to vomit. “It won’t stop unless it k-kriffing h-hurts.” Kenobi hiccuped out the words, chest heaving violently. 
“Look at me, Obi-Wan.” Cody commanded, now leaning over so the General could see his face, “Don’t stop looking at me. Skywalker is almost done destroying that karking artifact, and it will all be over soon. I promise.”  
Skull appreciated the distraction, and with a heavy heart, brought the blade of the lightsaber down again, pressing against the already corrupted flesh. Kenobi produced a gut-wrenching scream, one that Skull would be hard-pressed to forget, but yet, he kept going. He didn’t stop until Kenobi begged him to, but even then, Skull knew the General well enough to know he would ask for it again, no matter how bad the pain became. 
It repeated for another few minutes, and Skull’s impatience began to show, but Cody reassured him Skywalker would hold true to his word, the artifact would be destroyed. 
Burning flesh, blue light, sparks. With Kenobi’s every scream felt like another scar on Skull’s soul. 
He was about to give up, about to tell the General he couldn’t fucking do it anymore, but then–
“Stop!” Kenobi yelled, and his body suddenly relaxed, all of the tension seeping from his skin and bones in the matter of a split second. 
Kenobi cried, not sobbed, but cried.  His tears came out liberally and Skull realized finally, that these were not longer tears of pain, but desperate relief.
“I’m sorry, Obes. It’s over now, I promise, it’s over.” Cody whispered, hands crawling into Obi-Wan’s hair as he pressed their foreheads together. It would have been a sweet moment, but the smell of burning flesh, and the horrific sight of fresh lightsaber burns curling down the length of Kenobi’s arm was enough to make Skull rush to his feet, barely making it only a few feet away before the contents of his stomach came up and fell into the brush. 
   The cabin was silent as they floated the stretcher into the open space. 
Skywalker had yet to say anything other than to confirm the artifact had been destroyed. Instead, he stared at his former Master with something like guilt written in his eyes. Kenobi had looked back at him, a forgiving half-smile on his face, but there was another silent conversation going on that everyone else couldn’t hear. Force -osik, of course.
Cody didn’t leave the side of the stretcher, even as Oxy pressed the hypo of sedation into the side of Kenobi’s neck when Skywalker had Ahsoka into the cockpit and away from the image of Obi-Wan’s brutal burns. Skull didn’t blame Cody and didn’t bother to make fun of his clinginess like he usually would. 
The silence persisted as Skull rummaged through his kit, searching for scissors, and then began to cut off the General’s soiled and bloodied robes. The man would be sore when he roused after having spent so long fighting off invisible threats. Not to mention, the burn wounds would continue to feel fiery until Skull could assess the severity of them and then rinse and clean them. 
Skull pulled away the tattered robes, enlisting Oxy’s help to pull them out from underneath his back. Once Kenobi’s chest was bare, Skull was happy to find that no other wounds, beyond a baseline level of bruising he had expected, had been inflicted.
Relieved, he handed Oxy the burn kit, hands shaking as he passed them over. Oxy raised his eyebrows in suspicion. 
“I’m too shaky, you think you can handle it?” Skull asked, hating that his voice also shook as he spoke.
“Of course.” Oxy said, and Skull turned to go find a seat. He needed a minute to unwind, to unpack the events of the day and the actions he took.
He wouldn’t sleep for a long time. 
It felt like he had just sat down, when a shadow seemed to loom over him. 
“Skull– I wanted to say thank you.” Cody stood in front of him all of the sudden with his arms crossed over his chest. It was shocking to hear, given the fact that Skull had just damaged his boyfriend on purpose. Skull swallowed, shaking his head.
“Why? You have no reason to thank me. I–I hurt him. That’s not what a medic should do.” The words felt heavy in his mouth, and he let his eyes mindlessly trace over some scrapes on the floor.
Cody sat beside him heavily, their shoulders pressing together. 
“I do have a reason. I wouldn’t have been able to do it, but it needed to be done. You don’t give up, and you helped Obi-Wan more than I would have. So I am ordering you to accept my thanks.” Cody stood just as quickly as he sat, then just as Skull looked up at him, offered just the hint of a smile. 
“You’re… welcome.” Though the words felt wrong in mouth, he forced them out, if only to appease Cody.
“I owe you one.” 
With that, Skull leaned back and tried to stop his mind from replaying the sound of the lightsaber pressing against Kenobi’s flesh. 
Periodically in the three hours back to the Negotiator Skull checked on the General, noting that his vitals were fine each time, but he couldn't stop himself. 
Worry caged him in, barely letting him breath until they were safely landed in the hangar. 
   Kenobi’s recovery had been mostly linear with only a few minor hiccups. Burns were common injuries among Jedi, and it wasn’t Kenobi’s first lightsaber burn at all. He already knew all the rules on how to replace his bandages and gently clean the wound once the bacta had begun the baseline healing process.
This time, Kenobi had been a picture-perfect patient, a smile on his face as Skull fiddled with his IV and ran his vitals every few hours. Skull sensed it had something to do with relief, and he certainly was happy to have a cooperative Kenobi for a change. 
Similarly, Cody was less difficult than usual. He wasn’t as demanding, and his teasing about Quinlan had completely stopped. In a way, it seemed like a small amount of respect had grown between Skull and Cody, a new understanding of their places in Kenobi’s life. 
Kenobi was their General, and though their relationships with him were different on many levels, they both maintained an urge to protect, and for that, they could respect each other. 
And now, two weeks later, Skull was back to sleeping, mostly, except for the occasionally vibrant and realistic nightmare that kept him up until his shift started at 0500. 
Bitterly, Skull removed himself from bed at the mark of two weeks since the mission. He had been awake since the early morning, and he had laid in bed for hours trying to distract his mind. Even reading hadn’t helped much. 
Skull dressed himself in his scrubs, ignoring his still dirty armor that leaned against the edge of his chair in his quarters. 
He brought his breakfast and caf from the refectory to the medbay, nodding at Copper and Splint as he passed them and headed toward his lab. 
Kenobi would hopefully arrive for his check-in appointment in a matter of fifteen minutes, but Skull hoped to get his cluttered thoughts organized over a steaming breakfast before he got there. He rifled through his notes, reading over some of his thoughts from the day before where he had begun to research a new epilepsy medication for the General that would have longer lasting effects. 
He had almost drained his cup of caf and finished his oatmeal when there was a faint knock on his door. He checked the time, noting that Kenobi’s appointment was still ten minutes away and yelled, “Come in!”
To his surprise, the doors slid open and revealed Kenobi and Cody standing side-by-side in the doorway. 
“Hello, Skull. Apologies for intruding, we’re a few minutes early and Copper told us we would find you here.” The General smiled warmly, and shifted into the room, Cody hovering close to his side. 
“Oh– of course. Let’s–um–” Skull shuffled the papers on his desk into a neat pile feeling strangely flustered under their gaze. It’s because you haven’t forgiven yourself, the voice in the back of his head reminded him, “Get an examination room. You know where they are.” 
Kenobi smiled, “Of course.” 
Skull followed behind them until both of them walked into a free examination room and then he shut the door. 
“Alright,” He started, washing his hands off in the sink, “Let’s take a look.” 
Cody helped Obi-Wan bring the sling over his head. Skull had offered him one as a reminder to not kriffing use his arm, and Cody had forced the General to accept. Sure, Kenobi didn’t need to immobilize it, but it was easier than him ripping open the healing wounds once a day. 
Skull busied himself with looking at the General’s chart on his datapad while the couple bickered about whether or not Kenobi could get his undertunic over his head without help. 
“You two fight like all the time? Can’t imagine that’s very efficient when it comes to–” Skull started to say, he couldn’t help himself. 
“Skull for the love of the Force–”
“What! What? It’s a joke, Cody.” The Commander glared at him with a grunt, and things suddenly started to feel a lot more normal. Kenobi even smiled as he pulled his own tunic over his head and tossed it onto Cody’s shoulder.
“See? I’m quite alright, Cody.” He held out his arm for Skull. Now, the thick bandages hadn’t been necessary for a few days, but Skull still wanted to check and make sure there hadn’t been any tearing or damage to the wound. 
Skull noted a full range of motion, and the scarring progressed enough to satisfy him for the time being. He made a few notes on his chart and looked back up at the pair of men. There was something soft, and frankly, disgusting, in Cody’s eyes as he looked down at Kenobi where he sat on the bed. No matter how many times he watched the knowing looks and soft touches exchanged between the two men, it never failed to make warmth burn in his chest. 
The General deserved someone as good as Cody, and if anyone was going to keep the General out of Skull’s hair, his bet was on the Commander of the 212th. 
“Alright, it looks like you are healing up nice, but as per usual I will remind you both,” He eyed Cody specifically, a blush already spreading against the tops of the Commander’s cheeks before Skull had the chance to finish his sentence, “Absolutely no physical exertion for another week. None.” 
“Kriff, Skull we don’t need a–” Cody started.
“No– no kriffing. That’s what I meant.” Skull retorted, watching Kenobi barely choke back a laugh as Cody turned on his heel, eyes rolling as he threw Obi-Wan’s discarded tunics at him. 
The minute Cody left the room with a huff, Kenobi let out a chuckle and reached for his tunic, carefully pulling them over his head with only a small wince, “He’s not in the mood for jokes today, I suppose.” The General said with a shrug and held out a hand to Skull.
Skull, only hesitating for a second, shook his hand, offering a sheepish smile.
“A handshake, Sir?” He asked, and Kenobi’s lip quirked upward.
“Yes– as the first part to the many thanks I owe you.”
There it was again, the crushing guilt that had been boiling steadily in Skull’s stomach. He swallowed, eyes trained on the floor. 
“I don’t need or deserve your thanks, Sir. I did what I had to, and I am more than happy to have taken that burden away from Cody.” There was no use trying to tell the General that he was guilty, that he would never come to terms with the way he had inflicted pain.
“You do deserve my thanks. Senator Organa was in the same position as you, and I know he feels a sense of shame– but you saved me from something much worse than just pain. So thank you, I owe you my life.” Kenobi’s hand pressed against Skull’s shoulder, the warmth radiated through his shirt. 
“Well– I suppose you are welcome.” Skull said after a pause, and looked up to find that Kenobi’s soft smile had yet to disappear. “Now, would you stay out of my medbay for once? I’m banning injuries for the next week.” 
He couldn’t help but change the subject, not wanting to rehash the haunting memories anymore.
“No guarantees, but I’ll try my best.”
With that, Kenobi floated out of the room, the perfect picture of grace.
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outforlve · 22 days
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⋆ ┊ANSWERED ╱ : ❛ Do you mind if I smoke? ❜◞
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' This is HELL, of course I don't mind.' Carmilla said her arms crossing over her chest, looking out the window of the building they were in, brushing off the smoke out of her face. ' Although, try to blow it in the other direction would you? '
⋆ ┊@hellcab
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avengerang · 8 months
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@nithhaiahh liked for a starter post!
"You're a bit too far from home, aren't you?"
With the Absolver pointed towards the spooky lady, the cunning sentinel raises one eyebrow. Lips tugged into a smug smile as he can already feel the rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins. The girl does not look like your usual everyday mist wraith, so Akshan decides to give her an opportunity for a comeback. What a nice guy he was.
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choasuqeen · 19 days
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<333 have a brownie
AW THANK YOU
*splits it to share*
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aratakigang · 7 months
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@alolynn-heart
Alola was just as warm and beautiful as he imagined. The beaches of Melemele Island were white as snow, and the water blue as the prettiest sapphire. The cries of wingull could be heard among the crashing waves and chatter among the tourists who enjoyed this slice of paradise. Itto's Pokemon were out enjoying the waves and playing with the other Pokemon while their papa remained on the beach, taking a nap. However, his nap was rudely disrupted with a kick and also a bite of sand to the face.
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Promptly waking, the angered hisuian giant barked out up towards his attacker. "Hey! Watch where you're stepping, lady! One wrong step and your foot could've been skewered." One look down, and the stranger would see a very angry head sticking out of the sand. His body was completely submerged.
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