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gameswithjohnathan · 2 years

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John Does The Phantom Menace

So right off the bat, I hate this movie. I know, I know...it's an unpopular opinion, no need to remind me (/s), but hear me out on this one. This movie sucks. Someone pull up the clip of George Lucas saying "I might have gone too far" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxL4pzuwSUQ). You get the point.

Right off the bat, we're thrown into a boring set up with a space blockade on Naboo to prevent trade routes from being made, but that's only the title crawl. Then we get Obi Wan and Qui-Gon sneaking around the republic on the orders of the chancellor, which goes wrong. They manage to sneak in, meet Jar Jar (who is conveniently about to be killed so they can save him), which...unfortunately sets the movie into motion by taking them to the Gungans (his people), who are mindtricked by Qui-Gon (Are the Jedi supposed to be the good guys?) into giving them transport, where they're now forced to drag Jar Jar around for the rest of the movie. I'm going to try to keep my criticize of Jar Jar to a minimum from here on out...the Star Wars community bullied the actor so much afterwards that he tried to kill himself.

They rescue the queen (someone explain to me how the government of Naboo works, where the queen can also serve in the senate...I'm legitimately confused and don't want to nitpick it without knowing for a fact that it's stupid). They go to Tatooine because they have a part broken on their ship, they wager their ship for the part and a slave child (Trust me, I'm going to come back to this) in a pod race, where they trust that a 9 year old they've known for 5 minutes and know has never won a race to win a race, which he does...cause otherwise you don't have a movie.

They go to Coruscant, Yoda forbids training the slave child, so Qui-Gon basically says "Screw you, you're not my dad!" and takes the kid under his wing. Since Anakin was being too annoying, Qui-Gon turns the car around and everyone goes back to Naboo where our party splits into 3 groups. I think the Queen was there? She doesn't really do anything, yet she *insisted* that they go back to Naboo.

Jar-Jar gets promoted to general...and I have to bite my tongue on this one. He stumbles around and wins a ground battle against the trade federation and their droid army by tripping over a bunch of bombs.

Meanwhile, we have Anakin, who's told to wait in the ship and not touch anything...the 9 year old...the keys are in the goddamn ignition...and he takes off and flies in a space battle around the droid control ship, where he accidentally blows up a ship that's mysteriously shaped like a Death Star by missing some droids in the hangar that happens to have the main reactor to the ship out in the open with no protection...they put the thing that makes the whole thing blow up in the parking garage...I'm flabbergasted.

And lastly, we have Qui-Gon and Obi Wan who get the only good part of the movie as they fight Darth Maul, who kills Qui-Gon cause being a mentor in Star Wars is the second most lethal profession after being an employee of The Empire. And then Maul gets cut in half in a move that really should've been easily dodged, but it's time for the movie to end.

So, what's the lasting impact of the Phantom Menace on the Star Wars universe? Nothing...this movie is meaningless. It pretty much just shows that Anakin exists, is training, and may be evil.

I prefer to look at a different legacy of this movie...The Jedi's view on slavery. George, why do they leave Anakin's Mom enslaved? Answer me, George. The Jedi realized that slaves were in use on Tatooine, why did no one stop them? The Jedi bought Anakin, technically. Does that mean that Anakin has to become a Jedi? Is he still a slave when they make him a Padawan?

If Anakin had been refused by Qui-Gon, would they have dropped him back into slavery with his mom? Was Yoda just going to have him dropped in foster care? Why didn't Qui-Gon fight harder to free Shmi (Anakin's mom) from the slavers? Why is she named Shmi? What the hell kind of name is that? Who wrote this movie? George, why did you make this movie?

3/10, at least it's not Rise of Skywalker

#star wars #the phantom menace #prequel trilogy #sw prequels

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katsukikitten · 4 years

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Part 2! Here is Part 1 f you have yet to read it! I hope you enjoy my little Walmart brand of summer wars as much as I am writing it! Let me know what you think!

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The two of you leave with a small bow before your grandmother answers the phone.

The second you are out of the room Bakugou grabs you roughly by the wrist, pulling you down into the small dimly lit hallway to press you against the dark wooden wall, caging you in much like he did on the train.

But this time with malintent. Small pops ring out from his forearms, one hand threatening to char the wood beside your head while the other grips your wrist harder.

You could understand his anger, it's not as if you had been truthful to Bakugou. He detests liars and although you didn't necessarily lie to him you still told him a half truth. He was still figuring out which was worse.

"Fucking fiance?!" He snarls close to your face, "Deal's off."

You had planned to allow him to bitch and moan about the shitty situation you put him in without argument.

But his refusal to act semi decent towards you for the sake of your grandmother's old heart had rage burning hot in your veins.

It wasn't like you were asking him to fuck you. With a tick in your jaw you drop your precious Kimono. Grabbing onto his chin with your free hand, tilting his face closer to yours to have a better look at those stunning crimson eyes. They widen from both the force of your grip and the proximity of your lips. He swallows thickly, his glare slowly coming back.

"Listen here Bakugou Katsuki. I'm asking you to pretend to be my fiance for two weeks. I'm asking for small shit like sitting close to me, maybe giving a small smile in my direction and at the most hand holding. I'm not asking you to fucking marry me or fuck me in front of my family. My grandmother is a bit old fashioned if you couldn't tell by the house or her demeanor, she has been hounding me about bringing a man to her for approval since I was 16. She wanted to make sure I had a man that deserved me, that I would be taken care of. So I've made up boyfriend after boyfriend since I've never really had time for more than a good fuck but my Uncle called me last winter to tell me her health was beginning to decline and rapidly at that. I called her immediately and told her I had just become engaged and she'd meet him on her birthday. So you've got two choices Katsuki." You let every syllable of his name soak in sugar coated venom, "Suck it up for two fucking weeks and be semi decent to me or break my grandmother's heart and earn a dangerous enemy."

Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest the entire time you were ranting, unsure of why he was attracted to the hard set of your eyes and the ice in your voice. His stomach flips when you say his first name causing him to grind his teeth. He breaks away from your grip with his free hand, quickly pinning your arms above your head. Locking your delicate yet deadly wrists in one of his broad hands while the other presses against your hip bone. Thumb sliding through the loop of your too short shorts, bringing your pelvis to his. The denim was barely able to contain your ass and thick thighs, he is surprised none of your elders have scolded you for such indecency if they were as old fashioned as you say.

The faint blush on your cheeks and the defiant look in your eyes has his voice turn husky as he speaks.

"I should make you regret bringing me here. Maybe have you begging for something else." His lips a breath away as he presses his forehead to yours. Eyes molten with what you think is lust before he tilts his face. Amplifying the sudden magnetism between your plump lips and his own. Your chest tightens with mixed emotions as your eyes begin to flutter closed.

Suddenly he changes direction and gives you a harsh headbutt, hard enough your vision blurs at the edges causing you to growl in response.

"This better not fucking bruise."

He rolls his eyes, dropping your hands as he reaches down for the old Kimino. His heart racing from almost losing control of these odd feelings.

Feelings that had never been aimed towards you until your grandmother stirred them up.

"Would you die for my granddaughter?"

The question drives him mad, mad enough that he places the kimono in your hands speaking the dark thought that he should have fucking kept to himself.

"Did you actually drag me along for your grandmother's sake or did you just want the kimono, Princess?" His voice is all bite, holding your gaze, your eyes widening.

"Don't call me that." Your voice threatens to crack but he walks away before he can see the rest of your reaction to wander the house for his room until dinner.

You're left standing there, eyes glued to the fabric, the deep navy blue and hand stitched cranes and lotus blur in your hands. Before fat droplets fall from your eyes.

Why did you ever think Bakugou Katsuki would be a good partner, fake or not.

You collect yourself quickly, angrily swiping at your eyes before you set to find your normal room.

It doesn't take you long and you're honestly hoping Bakugou stays lost until dinner. His room should be on the opposite wing of the house. Opening the old tatami door to find Mei setting down your stuff and Bakugou's bag. Mei follows your eyes to the well worn backpack with a skull pin on the strap. She knew exactly who it belonged to when she picked it up, having spotted the handsome devil from the hall.

"Mei what's this you know he's supposed to be in the western wing!" You exclaim, trudging past her to hang your kimono on the old rack in the corner of the room. Mei scoffs, eyes glued to her phone as she speaks.

"He was bound to sneak this way anyway. I'm doing you a favor." She rolls her eyes as if she knows everything at the ripe age of sixteen.

You thought you knew everything then too. You sigh, rolling your own eyes.

"What you call a favor I call a headache. Just take his bag to his room." You pass the straps to her, hating that it smells so much like him. Your stomach flips even as you look at the two person futon.

"Just sleep with him tonight no one will know! Plus I hadn't cleaned his room. It's full of spider webs, the floor needs patching and his futon is gonna be dusty." She counters.

"B..but one futon is not modest."

"Wow please tell me you're not a virgin jushi. You're gonna get married anyway! I know I wouldn't have said no to a catch like that either!"

Mei makes her way out of your room while you pinch the bridge or your nose.

"Yea…. Why would I ever say no to such a great catch?" You fall backwards onto the futon hoping that that asshole was still lost for now.

Someone would find him wandering and take him to the great dining room.

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Thankfully someone does end up showing Bakugou to the dining room but of course it would be Mei who also tells him where the SHARED room is. You bite your lip and choose to play dumb.

"Oh good you found your way, babe." You smile sinking next to him on one of the many blue cushions. He grunts in response but pulls your cushion closer to his. Carefully pouring you some water before he yanks down your tank top that was riding up and trying to expose your midriff. His fingers feel like fire as they brush against your skin, igniting a dying ember in your stomach.

You quickly remind yourself of his nasty comment, as you're about to set him straight your cousin Haru walks into the room. He sucks his teeth and sits further down the table across from his sister Mei as people slowly come in to sit or bring in food.

"I don't know why you bothered to bring him here. Sobo is never going to approve of him." He cracks open his beer and drinks prematurely earning an eye roll from his sister. Bakugou and yourself both open your mouth to retort when Mei pipes up. Eyes still glued to her phone as her thumbs fly across the illuminated glass.

"She already did stupid. She gave her the crane Kimono so get used to seeing his face." Mei rolls her eyes as your cheeks blush.

Bakugou regrets his comment now more than ever but sucks his own teeth. An older gentleman sits to Bakugou's left commenting on the conversation as he does.

"Wow the crane kimono! You know she's been holding onto that for quite some time. You must be very special. I'm Sozen, your lovely fiance's Uncle." He smiles, just as you're about pinch the blonde to make sure he answers he gives a small bow of his head.

"Bakugou Katsuki." He introduces himself as aunt Mai rushes into the room.

"Wait, wait! I want to meet him!" She sinks next to your right, all smiles as her eyes are fixated on the young man, "Wow he is as handsome as you said on the phone last night."

Fresh blush creeps onto your cheeks, remembering the phone conversation from when you were too nervous to sleep last night. Bakugou catches on and smirks in response. Everyone but Sobo takes their seats and you decide now is a good time as ever to get the formalities over with.

"Let's just get through the introductions shall we?" You say as you run through the names of each family member on both sides of the three low tables shoved together. Introducing the hot head to well over 12 adults and their children and even children's children. For now Bakugou only makes an effort to remember the ones closest to him.

Uncle Sozen who sits to his left and Aunt Mai who sits to your right. It's becoming quickly apparent that a lot of your family is either much older or much younger than yourself. He can understand why you could feel a little lonely at times. Being more of a black sheep than anything. Then he realises something very important.

"Wait, where are your parents?" He asks lowly to which you shrug.

"They show up closer to grandma's birthday. They are both extremely busy and always have been. Soba more or less raised me."

As if one cue grandmother comes in, looking over the table with the biggest and warmest smile she can muster. It reminds him of the summer sun lazily dancing across his skin in the late afternoon.

And again it reminds him of you. He looks to you and sees you mirroring the exact same smile, happy for your grandmother's happiness causing his chest to tighten and butterflies to awaken in his stomach. He grinds his teeth in an attempt to calm them down.

She sits at the head of the table, closest to Great Oba who he had the pleasure of meeting first thing, before grandmother holds up her small cup of sake.

"To family." She announces, everyone lifts what cup they have, whether it was a kids small sippy cup, their o-choko, or even their cup of tea.

"To family!" They roar back to her all taking a sip.

"Let's eat." She says while the family cries out, "Itadakimasu!"

The tables are loud and full of conversation. Although Katuski's family is not so big, the volume reminds him of his own family. A small smirk comes to his lips as he thinks of his mother and how she would fit in here.

"So no Shoji?" Haru asks with a sneer, almost purposefully stirring the pot.

"No surprise there." Someone else comments.

"Shut. Up. Haru." You bite out, look fierce as if you were to devour him whole. He swallows thickly.

"Great uncle Kodaka tell us about that battle we won here!" You change the subject and everyone groans as Kodaka starts the story they've heard thousands of times before.

"It was almost 150 years ago, when we were still a prosperous nation. Us samarai doing fine on our own. Hired by the wealthy or living by our own moral compass. It was like fish in a barrel…"

The story continues on, mostly the children listen and your grandmother who smiles as she hears her youngest speak.

Sozen leans closer to Bakugou, as grey eyes hold onto scarlet. Bakugou remains quiet, glancing to you and then back to the uncle. Uncle Sozen takes this as an invitation to speak.

"I guess since you're gonna be part of the family now I should tell you about Shoji. There was a time shortly before Grandpa died that he went down a dark path, gambling away majority of the family fortune and just when grams thought she had him under control then came Shoji.He was Grandpa's illegitimate child with a woman much younger than Sobo. But she loved Shoji fiercely anyway. She would take him through the field of wildflowers to the lake in the early mornings of summer. One hot day when he was small and the sun was rising, painting the sky in hues of red there was a crane. Our family's crest." Uncle Sozen points to the wooden crest above the door to the adjacent room that held the family's artifacts. A crane stands tall with a white lotus behind it in full bloom.

"It was the first time in decades that a crane had come to the lake and the lotus were in full bloom. He flew away, causing a gentle ripple in the lake and it was then Sobo knew that Shoji would bring fortune to our family." Sozen peeks your way to make sure you're not over hearing, he continues explaining softly as your loud laugh bellows out, "Everyone is so angry with him because he took the last of grandmother's savings and then ran away to America with no way to be contacted."

"She is quick to defend him because she was too young to really remember how much it upset Sobo. That and she believed in him wholeheartedly. She looked up to him because despite his quirklessness he was exceptionally intelligent. She had faith that he would restore honor and fortune to our name." Sozen's chopsticks point to you as he speaks before he picks up a dumpling. Bakugou's eyes follow over you.

"Hello Sobo." A deep voice calls from the engawa reducing the lively roar of dinner conversation to nothing more than the sad song of a lonely cricket.

"Uncle Shoji?!" You call excited, standing from your spot at the long table while the rest of the room holds animosity.

Bakugou downs his sake to which Uncle Sozen silently refills.

"I thought you were still abroad in the states!" You sink next to him and pull him into a crushing hug. He smiles, slowly separating the two of you.

"What the hell do you want trash?!" Uncle Kodaka snarls, to which you produce a deadly glare his way.

"Well yes I was in the states, thank you for asking Princess." He tucks a stay hair behind your ear before rising to speak with grandmother.

He does not address her properly nor does he bow. If anything he stands loosely with an arrogance about him that leaves majority of the room with a sour taste in their mouth. Bakugou watches Great Oba's chopsticks strain in her delicate hand, the distaste for him is becoming more and more obvious by the second.

And then he opens his mouth.

"I made tenfold out of what you let me borrow, Soba." He pulls a stack of money and a check from his pocket as he speaks, "I made a drug to make people powerless and sold it to the highest bidder."

Eyes around the room widen as news headlines flash in their heads about a new drug that made people quirkless. Villains shooting innocent bystanders and heroes in hopes of getting a leg up.

Shoji tosses the money and the check onto grandmother's lap. Dark brown eyes stare into her lap for a long moment.

Suddenly grandmother moves like an agile cat, jumping to her feet and grabbing for one of the divine naginata. She wields it masterfully before shoving the point towards him, fire burning in her eyes.

"Mother!" Half the table shouts, as you begin to see red. You stand stepping next to Shoji, body shaking with rage as your heart drums in your ears.

"I knew my Princess would save me." He says coyly to hide just how shaken he is, sweat dripping down his brow. Even ten years your senior he couldn't hide his fear of the fierce woman before him, shocked that a woman in her nineties could still brandish such a big and heavy weapon.

Your hands land harshly on Shoji's chest as you give him a shove. Shocking the table into further silence.

"YOU MADE THAT?!" Your voice echoes over the dining room, into the empty halls and out into the night but somehow the hurt in it does not reach Shoji.

"Of course, it was going to be a hot seller. Governments offered me billions. Besides I made an anti...." But before he can finish you've got him by the collar.

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO INTELLIGENT YET SO DAFT?!" Bakugou watches your knuckles turn white while your cheeks flush deep red. Shoji barely frees himself, his shirt crumpled but you press on.

"Those were my friends!" A stomp of your foot has the dishes rattling on the table, Bakugou becomes more on edge, "You hurt my fucking friends!"

You raise both of your fists above your head, ready to bring them down with all of your might. Too angry to control your gauge of power uncaring of the consequences. Katuski acts quickly, flicking his wrist to empty the shallow cup of sake high into the air. Igniting it into beautiful dancing fireworks, the kids oo and ah while he hopes to distract you if only for a moment.

It works, slightly. You realize his plan as he jumps to his feet, running along the low tables as you try to beat him to the punch.

Literally.

Bakugou barely makes it, shoving Shoji into the table, food and dishes fly into the air just to stain the freshly mopped wooden floors. The hot head holds out his other arm to take the brunt of your force. He let's off the smallest explosion to soften your blow but a small crack still rings out.

Heated eyes watch as a black bruise blooms from the crease of his elbow to all the way to his wrist as the shock shakes the house behind him. Paintings and pictures fall from the walls in the wake of your force.

"Are you trying to bring down the house dumbass?!" He yells before his voice dips low, soft almost, "What if the roof had caved and Soba-san got hurt?"

Your eyes widen at his words before they are locked with glistening scarlet pools. You look over Bakugou's toned arm, marred in angry shades of purplish black. Eyes darting over the family and the mess that lies beside you. Finally they fall on your grandmother behind your shoulder. Her own aged shoulders heave from the adrenaline, her graying white hair out of place with her lotus pin threatening to fall out. You spy Shoji, your once hero still squishing food beneath his torso and elbows, eyes filled with fear.

"Fuck this." You mutter storming off, leaving Bakugou to stand alone before your family. Shoji stands, rushing out of the house, moments later everyone can hear a car peeling down the gravel drive losing traction once or twice.

After a few moments of silence grandmother fixes her hair and returns the naginata as she speaks.

"This family cleans up their own messes. Now get to work!"

And with that your family and Bakugou begin to pick up the shattered pieces of dishes, pride and family matters.

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littlespaceporgs · 4 years

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i have a need for more soft plo my dear 💕 how abt “i wanted to say ‘i love you’ for the first time without stuttering, but that failed” with everyone’s fave kel dor? also i love you to the moon and back and am super proud of you

A/N: Yeah that’s right, I’m back mostly fully now and yes I am writing the requests I have! JJ - I hope you like this! I LOVE U TOO! It’s funny to start off with and then goes angsty and then goes super fluffy and is an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish. I was aiming for a little 500 word blurb... it stands at 1.7ish i think 💀

So if you haven’t been reading my Clone Wars Reacts series, you probably aren’t aware that I am a massive simp for Plo Koon (and others characters 🤦‍♀️)and if this is you deciding to read them here’s the link to my masterlist, which has all the parts posted already.

Glimpse

Word Count: 1.7k Pairing: Plo Koon x Jedi!Reader Summary: Anakin running late, an awful sense of foreboding, and one thing that you were yet to say, mixed with a glimpse of a future you couldn’t have. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags for my loves: @peacelandbread @clonewarslover55 @libradusk @catsnkooks @mcu-padawan

The reasons why you agreed to go on a mission on Skywalker seemed to escape you at the moment. His plans, though working occasionally, had the reputation of heavy damage and being absurdly reckless. You did however, enjoy working with Ahsoka, though she could be just as bull-headed as Anakin on occasion. Maybe it was for her sake that you joined the mission?

The plan had originally been for you to lead a small troop of men in quietly, retrieve the data you needed, and then Skywalker would swoop in and distract them so that you could escape. The entry went well, and collecting the data happened without a hitch, but you were spotted on the way out and Skywalker was late. Again. And to make things worse, your comms stopped working a very long time ago.

“If you concentrated on getting out instead of what you’re thinking, we might just survive.”

Ah, that’s why you came on this blasted trip.

“Well maybe if you focused on this, instead of your sarcasm, we may live past the next 10 minutes, Plo.”

You’d known the Kel-dor for many years, almost as long as you’d been a Jedi, but the feelings you had for him were only a few years old, and started shortly after you began going on regular missions with him. He always had put the wellbeing of others ahead of his own, which was frustrating to no end, but endearing all the same. He knew that you had a way of overthinking every situation and very quickly becoming a ‘stress head’, so he always simplified the instructions and looked for the tell-tale signs of you steadily becoming unstuck. Always waiting for the clones to get on board an escape pod, making sure there were enough supplies, somehow always having all the answers and a witty response. It was the little things at any rate.

Like now for example, as you both knelt behind a box, trying to catch your breath, and he was trying to use humour as a way of distracting you from the very real possibility of dying by the hands of a droid.

You stretched up from your crouch and turned to look over the box. Oh shit, there’s an entire battalion of droids just a few meters – oh, and that one’s pointing- oh.

With a sharp tug, Plo pulled you back down, the blaster bolt whizzing past where your eyes had been only half a second ago. Despite not being able to see his eyes and mouth, he still gave you an exasperated expression.

“Be more-”

“I was fine! I saw it coming and I was going to move!” The Kel-dor ran a hand across his forehead, although, at this point he should be used to this type of behaviour from you.

Despite the joking and poking fun, your stomach was sinking further by the minute. As you just realised, if you stepped out, you would surely be shot instantly. A vast majority of the clone troopers had long since been torn apart. Swallowing, you closed your eyes, and leaned back resting your head on the box. There is no way either of you are going to surrender and get captured, but you both were aware of the fact that you likely weren’t making it out of this either.

Your shoulder was burning, and your ribs and abdomen ached, and there was a blaster burn on your leg. Another hand wrapped around your own, and squeezed it tight. Trying to stop shaking, you spoke.

“I – we’re not getting out of this one…” You turned your head and opened your eyes, finding his face. His eyes were turned down at the edges, and his shoulders were slumped the smallest bit. “Are we?”

Plo turned and took a similar position to you, not letting go of your hand.

“We must not think like-”

“Be realistic we-”

“It’s going to be-”

“Don’t- don’t you dare say it’ll be fine-”

“Skywalker-”

“isn’t coming! Or- or if he is, he’ll be too late!” you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking now, stuttering more with every word that came out. Plo’s head hung and you could see the weight of your words hanging on him.

“At um – at least we’ll go out as we are, teasing the s-shit out of each other, you old man.” He let a laugh drift out of the mask.

“Don’t call me old, youngling.” You laughed back, smirking all the while. If you’re going to die here – if technically you wouldn’t be jedi – your heart raced at the thought. The code was – well if you’re dead you can’t very well follow the code, now can you?

“I- I um I love you.” As soon as it was out, you felt lighter and heavier all at once. His back straightened so fast the back of his head nearly whacked the crate. When he finally turned to you, his brows were sitting much further up on his face than what they had been before, so you traced every corner on his face with your eyes, just in case. His hand squeezed yours tighter.

“I- well I wanted to say it without stuttering, and preferably when we weren’t a few minutes from death, but well- I guess there’s really no time like the present?” He still hadn’t moved, frozen and staring at you. Oh, no. You waved your free hand in front of his face, trying to break his stupor.

“Plo? Are you-”

“I love you too.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand moving to his face instead, moving your thumb across his cheekbone. Idly, you noticed that he hadn’t let go of your other hand yet. His hand moved the hair from your face, smudging the ash and dirt also. With a hand on the back of your head, he gently pulled so your foreheads pressed together. Your eyes slid shut, and you concentrated on the feeling of warmth and light that this brought. If this was the last thing you remembered before death, then you would die happily. For now, you savoured the few seconds you had sitting there. You sighed, and opened your eyes.

“I – just-”

“I know.” You pulled away, and despite the happiness of a few seconds before, a sense of foreboding sat heavily in your chest. You swallowed harder, and moved to grab your lightsaber. You grasped it tight, and ignited the glowing blade. Next to you, you heard his blade reveal itself. Your muscles in your legs tensed, and you braced your shoulders. One more time. When you turned to him, he was still looking at you, with a sad expression that rivalled your own. You shuffled so you were instead in a crouch, ready to fight. Might as well go out swinging.

You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves. For a second before you stood, you couldn’t hear anything. When you thought back and remembered it, there was the sound of droid’s legs and chatter, of occasional blaster fire of those who were left, and your lightsaber humming in your ear. At the time, there was nothing. You just kept staring at Plo, hoping that somehow, you’d get more of this, more than 5 seconds.

Faster than a blink, you got a glimpse of a future that could have been. Cold nights on Coruscant, wrapped up in blankets, watching the night sky past by. Daybreak, curled up in each other’s arms, feeling the glow of sun come in. On missions with small troops of trusted clones, being able to be open with your relationship. Sneaking around before council meetings, trying to savour what moments you could before missions. Feeling like young padawan’s again, running around quietly. Visions of you leaving the order, years from now, quoting being unable to stick to the code, Plo following shortly after. Of you building a home, your stomach steadily growing outwards.

And just like that it was over, and you were stuck with a reality of death.

Your throat burned and your vision blurred. Now.

And then Plo’s hand desperately grabbing yours and pulling you down again, a shrill beeping coming from his wrist. Your heart pulsed in your ears and you looked to the sky. Of course.

“Sorry, we were busy dealing with Ventress! How are you holding up?” A scathing laugh burst out of your throat. The droids were falling back, away from your position at the sight of the sheer number of Republic soldiers. You laid back on the dirt, feeling the sun on your skin, soaking up whatever light you could. It was only now that you felt the weight lift, where the light feeling of relief took its place. Plo begun to answer Anakin. You cut him off with a venomous tone.

“We’re a-”

“We’re alive, you’re late, and I am going to kill you, Skywalker.” There was an audible sigh that sounded suspiciously amused from Plo as he made to stand.

“I wasn’t that la-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.”

Plo’s hand reached down and hovered near your face, though you ignored it and shot up on your own, winding your arms around his neck. He softly grunted as you laughed and the realisations began to sink in. Maker, we nearly died. We were very nearly dead. You nearly had to watch the man you fell in love with die.

Whilst your mind rambled, he pulled apart, and was still brushing the hair from your forehead again. You hadn’t noticed, but he was taking in every freckle, wrinkle and scar you had, like you had been doing to him not too long ago.

You nearly died. Plo nearly died. You almost didn’t get to say – oh, no. You told him. You thought you were going to die and you told him. But now you’re not going to die. And he said it back.

He said your name and whisked you from the spiral. His leathery forehead leant down and pressed against yours.

“I love you.”

Maker, he said it again. You grinned, and pulled him closer. You wanted to say it one thousand times at the top of your lungs, and suddenly the glimpse didn’t seem as far out of reach as it had a few minutes ago.

“I love you too.”

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #star wars fanfic #plo koon #plo koon x reader #anakin skywalker #fanfiction #star wars imagine

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silverdecepticon93 · 4 years

Text

The Lantern Corps

Request: “oh!!! a yellow lanturn I did not expect that cause most people forget other colors exist. can i ask for a matchup of each lanturn color reader with a hero/villain?? witha few little hcs to match?”

This anon understands me, also, I just did the ones I understand, just to let you all know. I’ll also be using season 2 characters.

Green Lantern (Will):

“In Brightest day,

In Blackest night

Let those who worship evil’s might

Beware my power-

Green Lantern’s Light!”

I’m going to pair Tim with a Green Lantern s/o.

He’s got now powers but he’s still not afraid to fight the good fight and that really makes him your ideal s/o.

You can duplicate a Green Lantern Ring so Tim has actually used the power of the Green Lantern Ring before thanks to you.

“So, how do I do the cool energy construct thing?” He asked.

“You have to use your,” you did the rainbow thing from Spongebob, “you’re imagination!”

Forget Batman, you guys are the true Dynamic Duo.

You two also cover for each other. Like, if you need to charge your ring, Tim will use his smoke bombs so you can escape for a bit and charge up your ring.

If Tim’s mask is ripped off or something, you make a blinding green light so no one can see his identity.

He probably has a Green Lantern hoodie and you have a Robin one.

Gets bullied by Guy a lot because Guy’s sorta you’re big brother.

Yellow Lantern (Fear):

“In blackest day

In brightest night

Beware your fears

Made into light

Burn like my power

Sinestro’s might!”

Klarion, Klarion would have a Yellow Lantern s/o.

He can instill fear in not just people but also heroes and his chaos can create quite the hysteria.

Perfect for a fear-mongering Lantern like you.

“I love how perfect we are for each other!” He mused as you scared a group of people by creating a huge yellow monster.

You smiled back at him, “Well, Chaos and fear do go hand-in-hand, darling.”

Klarion helps fill in any weaknesses you have, like the recharge protocol, he’ll find a spell to extend your rings power.

As for a Blue Lantern, Klarion would kill them before they got the chance to get near you.

You have his back no matter what, using your ring to create a clone that’ll keep Teekl safe while the real you fights beside Klarion.

You can duplicate your ring for Klarion if you wanted to but...

Do you honestly think he needs that much more power?

Blue Lantern (Hope):

“In fearful day

In racing night

With strong hearts full

Our souls ignite

When all seems lost

In the War of Light

Look to the stars

for hope burns bright.”

I’d really like to see Guy Gardner with a Blue Lantern s/o.

Because together, you two power each other up, but you can also help soften that tough guy act he always has.

All Blue Lanterns are soft but badass little cinnamon rolls.

“I thought you guys weren’t strong without a Green Lantern?” Guy frowned as he flew next to you.

You stood over an unconscious Sinestro and smiled sweetly at your boyfriend, “I don’t need a ring to deck someone in the face.”

You’d have to be a pretty patient and witty person since Guy’s ego is kinda unbearable.

Especially if you’re dependent on having a Green Lantern to charge you up because he’s gonna tease you about being ‘useless’ or ‘wimpy’ but he means it in a loving way.

Still, he adores it when you use your powers and since he was a Blue Lantern himself, at some point, he understands that if you guys didn’t need a Green Lantern, you could be one hell of a Lantern.

When you two are fighting, you have a green bracelet that stands out form your blue outfit, and Guy has a blue bracelet that sticks out from his green uniform.

Enjoys dates where he can just fly around with you and you’d accompany him on his adventures in space.

Red Lantern (Rage):

“With blood and rage

Crimson red

Ripped from a corpse

So freshly dead

Together with our hellish hate

We’ll burn you all

This is your fate!”

Red lanterns, while they can sometimes be mindless rage-fueled beings, are actually just people who were wronged and are seeking vengance.

I feel like Conner would be best paired with a Red Lantern s/o, mostly because he can also level and understand what it’s like being rejected and hurt, that and you guys remember his temper form season 1, right?

Would very much be the only one that’s not intimidated by a Red Lantern s/o.

“Revenge is my only goal, so don’t even try to deter me from it, unless you really wanna see what my rage can do.” You growled.

He put his hand over yours, slightly confusing and flustering you, “But is it really worth it? You can’t change what happened in the past, so try to live in the present, with me.”

His s/o would be a little quick to anger so he’d have to reel them in when they get too hostile or aggressive.

People know better than to hurt Conner in front of you or else that ‘hellish hate’ you said in your oath? Yeah, they’re going to have to face that.

You also have mind-reading powers, thanks to the ring, so he’d have a private mind link with you that even Miss Martian or Psimon couldn’t intrude on.

He uses it to soothe you when he can’t be there and remind you that you’re a lot more than blood and bones.

Red Lanterns who go good can become Blue Lanterns but whether you choose to reject the blue ring or accept it, you can be assured Conner will love you either way.

Indigo Lantern (Compassion/Corruption):

“Following empty days

and the blackest nights

We follow after Natromo’s sight.

Guided by Abin Sur’s teaching right

May compassion lead you

With Indigo Light.”

Fucking Jaime would be perfect for you!

The Indigo ring of compassion is a parasitic ring so if your chosen, it doesn’t matter if you accept it or not, you are going to wield the ring.

Sound familiar? That’s Jaime and The Scarab’s situation.

“Guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?” You spoke in a light-hearted tone.

“yeah, well at least your ring doesn’t talk back to you.” He joked, although he glared bitterly at the Scarab.

Finds it really cool that you can understand him wether it’s in Spanish or in English.

However, there is a language only spoken by Indigo Lanterns but you helped teach Scarab how to translate it so you and Jaime can have conversations in this foreign language no one knows anything about.

He thinks you’re the Batman of the rings since you can’t be traced, at all, super fun when you sneak up on other Lanterns in the Justice League.

You’re also the John Constantine of the Lantern Corps since you can exorcise people, it’s never happened as far as Jaime knows, but he thinks it’s pretty cool.

Loves that you can force villains to feel bad about their actions, like, out of all the villains you two have faced, Klarion will always have the best reaction as he tries to figure out the guilt he was feeling.

Violet Lantern (Love):

“For hearts long lost

And full of fright

For those alone

In blackest night

Accept our rings

And join our fight

Love conquers all

With Violet Light.”

Icicle Jr. would be the ideal boyfriend for you!

As shown in the series, he may be a criminal, he’s also a hopeless romantic so I find it fitting that he has a Violet Lantern s/o.

He’s got a lot of love to give and he’d be a very loyal companion, so don’t be surprised if his admiration and feelings overwhelm your ring sometimes.

“What do you think about this one?” You asked as you altered your Star Sapphire uniform once again.

Icicle only gave you the typical love-sick look he had when he looks at you, “You look great in all of them, babe, I really can’t choose.”

Violet Lanterns have a crystallization power and Icicle likes to compare it to his cryokinesis, except the crystallization only effects people, and even planets.

If you’re ever in danger, your ring immediately teleports you to your love (Icicle) which he really likes and he also likes that you can teleport him to you if he’s ever in danger.

Wished he could’ve seen the look on Amanda Waller’s face when you teleported him out of Belle Reve with very little effort.

Would love it if you took him out for flights in the night sky and likes listening about all the adventures you’ve had in space.

A Violet Lantern would be perfect since he knows that you can be as far away as a different galaxy and you’d still come back to him, because he’s your true love.

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blainebigbang · 4 years

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Blaine Big Bang 2020: Posting Schedule

It’s finally here!

Tomorrow kicks off the Blaine Big Bang 2020!

Every other day, throughout the month of February, Blaine fans will be greeted with a new 25K+ fic of Blainey goodness from our 16 amazing authors and artists! Congrats to our participants!

Please see below the cut for the complete schedule:

February 1st - take my picture now (shake it 'til you see it) Author: Civillove Artist: Kanversrph Blaine likes to call this part of his life as being 'the flavor of the month'. While he enjoys being a successful model, he feels like the industry keeps taking little pieces of him. When he meets Sebastian, a nature photographer, he feels like he might get those pieces back.

February 3rd - Nothing Can Keep Us Apart Author: TeddysHoney Artist: Riverance Blaine is a Prince whose father was killed by King Burt's army. Blaine lives with his mother near King Burt's castle. One day, Prince Kurt sees him drawing water, and Kurt sneaks into the village to meet Blaine. They see one another in secret for a while. A war begins, however, and Blaine must go and fight. Kurt looks for him every day, waiting for him to return. He has no idea that Blaine has been captured by the enemy or that he's waiting for his brother to help him escape certain death. Once the war is over, Burt decides it is time for Kurt to find a mate. No one is good enough in Kurt's eyes, however. After realizing that Blaine may not be coming home and a pleasant evening spent in the arms of another man, Kurt sneaks off into the woods to cry, convinced he'll have to marry someone else and that Blaine is dead. Blaine surprises him in the forest, and, having convinces an indebted priest to marry them, the two are wed. Instead of returning to the castle, however, they decide to fend for themselves in the lawless forests surrounding the kingdoms. February 5th - Ships That Pass In The Night Author: Delightful_Fear Artist: JudeAraya Blaine has a great life, with people packing into his piano bar six nights a week as they sail to some of the most beautiful places in the world. He’s not lacking for beautiful men to share his bed either. Why would meeting the aloof counter-tenor in a touring Broadway group change anything?

February 7th - Life in Repair Author: Room108 Artist: SeblaineAddict In the wake of his most recent break-up with Kurt, Blaine returns home to Lima to lick his wounds and reclaim some measure of happiness. An unexpected opportunity to travel to Thailand with former friend (and sometimes nemesis) Sebastian Smythe, proves to be just the salve he needs. As their bond strengthens through the ups and downs of life on the road, Sebastian and Blaine revisit their lingering spark from high school and must decide whether it’s worth re-igniting or if it will be snuffed out for good.

February 9th - Bicycle Patrol Unit Author: Carmelcoffeeaddict Artist: Lallagoglee When NYPD bicycle cop, Blaine Anderson, begins to fall for Kurt Hummel - the gorgeous man that he first notices jogging through the park during Blaine's patrol - it causes a rift between him and his patrol partner, Sebastian Smythe.

February 11th - The Silver-Scaled Mark Author: Jayhawkwrites Artist: Michaelscribbles Blaine is a half-elf living in a town of full-blooded elves. He doesn’t fit in and is bullied almost daily for his heritage. One day Blaine finds solace in the library and later finds a book that talks about the magic in his world. He is drawn to it and wants to learn all he can. After Blaine has consumed all of the books in his town, he goes off to college to become a wizard so that he can help protect those that are not able to adequately defend themselves. Once he has graduated, he finds that he and several companions are part of a prophecy that will help unite the races in his world. February 13th - Out of the Blue Author: Lilyvandersteen Artist: Redheadgleek Kurt organises a fake wedding for Brittana to get presents from random billionaires. Cooper is one of those invited, and he shows up with his brother in tow. Sparks fly, but not of the good kind. Enemies to lovers, anyone? With a slight Pride and Prejudice vibe?

February 15th - Let It Be Me Author: Darriness Artist: Usurix It's been three years since Blaine fell in love with Kurt but between college, jobs, social lives, and parenting his twelve-year-old sister, can Blaine manage it all?

February 17th - Wouldn't Change A Thing Author: Slaydiest Artist: Datshitrandom One the eve of his junior year at Dalton, Blaine’s dad kicks him out of the house, dumping him at the bus stop, cutting him off, and leaving him homeless. This is the story of how he survives, meets Kurt, and ultimately triumphs. February 19th - Here You Come Again Author: Kaianieves Artist: Kanversrph It's senior for Blaine, and just when things should be falling into place, he finds them falling apart. He's got a crush- hopefully nothing more than that- on his best friend, and a dance that he would rather do anything other than plan. Blaine's conflicted- should he sit out, be miserable and hope that this year passes by in a blur? Or should he embrace it, enjoy it and maybe even shoot his shot? February 21st - A Very Seblaine Christmas Author: MrsTotten Artist: SeblaineAddict Blaine loves his family and friends, he really does. But after a bad break up they just won’t leave him alone it doesn’t matter that everything else is going great, everyone is fixated on whether he is finally dating again. None of this is helped by his ex fiancé proposing to his new boyfriend at top of the rock and now all anyone can focus on is blaine love life or lack thereof. And now he’s heading home for the holidays. A whole week of crazy family, new directioners and so he tells a tiny white lie, that his new boyfriend his joining him for Christmas. Whilst waiting on a delayed flight and trying to figure out how to break the truth to everyone he bumps into the last person he expected to see, the flirty, charming green eyed ex warbler who was always able to find a way under his skin. Over a whiskey and a catch up an idea forms and Sebastian agrees to be his fake date for the holidays. But as Sebastian finds himself engulfed in the warm, happy madness of Blaine’s family and friends and warbler reunions, Blaine starts to see a new side to his old friends and as ex boyfriends, meddling friends and well meaning family start to get involved. This fake relationship could end up being the most real thing these crazy boys have.

February 23rd - broken glass sparkling Author: Merengs Artist: Purpleyin A year abroad. A chance to get away, put on hold all the issues he still needs to resolve and maybe find the bits of himself he thinks he’s lost. So Blaine takes it. February 25th - It's Not Easy (Being Stuck With Me Tonight) Author: Xhorizen Artist: Thegreatgothamrewatch Blaine had the perfect life – He was married to the man of his dreams, they lived with their best friend in the greatest city in the world, and he had everything he had ever dreamed of. Never mind the crippling depression and anxiety he dealt with each day he failed to book a job, and the lack of happiness he had in his marriage. One night, everything gets turned upside down and everything Blaine thought he knew was gone. How will he manage to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of his life again? February 27th - Is There a Twelve Step Just For You? Author: Thenameisbritney Artist: Datshitrandom "He was still the same short, nerdy Blaine Anderson he’d always been. An easy target for school bullies everywhere. Kurt was the popular co-captain of the Cheerio’s, looking down on his kingdom like a fair but firm ruler. No one was on his level, certainly not a peasant like Blaine." Or Blaine tries to tell Kurt that he has a crush on him but accidentally ends up asking for a makeover instead. Oh, dear. February 29th - The Dalton Military Academy Warblers Author: Julia3132 Artist: CinnamonT Blaine Anderson is 2nd son of richest man in the world Winston Anderson. A devastating injury brought him back to Ohio where he disappeared into the family's massive estate. Society doesn't see him again until 2 years later, when after the death of Winston, he shows up at Dalton Military Academy, a place he is totally unsuited for. Sebastian Smythe is Captain of Dalton’s elite 1st Squadron and everything Blaine wants to be…dashing, debonair, comfortable in his own skin. A real James Bond. What Blaine doesn’t know is Sebastian is actually a member of the secret organization and Blaine is his mission...Find out the truth behind Blaine's arrival at Dalton and determine whether or not it has anything to do with his father's unexpected death. March 2nd - Love, Blaine Author: Gleefuldarrencrissfan Artist: Klainiac Blaine Anderson is a typical teenager. Except he’s not because he’s hiding a huge secret. He’s gay. But after reading a confession on the informal Dalton blog, he discovers that he’s not the only closeted boy at Dalton. After a moment of courage, he emails him and ultimately starts up a friendship that will change life as he knows it. Loosely based on the movie Love, Simon.

#Blaine Big Bang 2020 #BBB 2020 #BBB 2020 Posting Schedule #Blaine Anderson #glee fic

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mythalsknickers · 5 years

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For DA Drunk Writing! Pairing of your choice "Thank you, I love it."

TITLE: A SparkPart of Vir’sul El’u EolasPAIRING: Solas x Fen’aslan/EvunialaRATING: Teen?TAGS/WARNINGS: Post-Trespasser, Angst, Magic Solves EverythingWORD COUNT: 1911

I hope you all enjoy this labor of unedited love, once I am not tired I will probably go over this a bit better so it can be incorporated into a later chapter of my post Trespasser fic. This is unbeta’d and a sneak peek. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. @dadrunkwriting

Silence hung over the castle like the starless night. A soft smile took shape on her lips as she stared up at the sky watching the way the pitch turned to navy, every once in a while, there was fragments of green and each time they flared on the horizon her breath caught in her throat and her heart raced with hope he would tear the veil down before her scouts found him, hope he was finally coming back to her. The mist-like magic that made up her new forearm gleamed like its own star as it flared briefly. In the months since she had come back to the Inquisition, they and the humans sped towards open war with Solas’ forces. It was not a path she wished to walk. He was her Vhenan.

As she parted her lips to whisper the same phrase she had been asking every night since her return, a hum of magic traveled through the ancient wards to her by prickling the hair on the back of her neck. It was an alert, not a warning, did she dare hope. Knitting her brow she pushed herself up looking over the grounds. In the gardens, a too familiar blue glow was barely visible over the wind battered rooftops.

Her heart lept into her throat, she didn’t want to hope, but she couldn’t stop the way her heart raced, or how breathing became a struggle. There was no proof it was Solas, it could be someone here to spy on her, or to kill her. She was trying to reason with her self vainly they were logical arguments, steps that in another world she would have taken if she had been in his position, she was his greatest threat. Stepping away from the balcony she entered into the dim amber warmth of her room. As much as she wanted to convince herself it wasn’t him. She didn’t believe it even though it was the most likely answer. Instinctively her hand found her staff, it wasn’t needed for this hunt, but it would help her focus on her task. Carefully she made her way to her desk, silently she pulled the chair out and sat down.

Magic began to bleed into the room, as the phantasmal forearm lost the defined shape, reverting to a cloud of magic. Her opaline eyes shifted into a silver only found in the moon. Letting her magic reach out into the ancient wards, she began to search the echos of magic for her guest. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she focused around the Eluvian.

“Show me.” she rasped her voice choked with hope as a silent tear ran down her cheek.

Each echo was a fragment of memories etched into the very soul of Skyhold. The oldest being when Morrigan had arrived from the Winter Palace. But no sign of her guest. The silence of the night was broken by the howl of a wolf, her soul was calling for him. It was at that moment where the still of the night and the hum of magic shattered into a single mournful howl.

It was as if a fuse had ignited in the ancient wards. Silver eyes widened as she could feel the echos of his steps. Like ripples from a stone being dropped in a still pond. Her breath stuttered as she snapped her eyes shut. It was a burning ache in her chest, it couldn’t be him. Not after all this time. Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, salt-stung at her as tears threatened to burst into sobs. Like snapping a bowstring her magic recoiled into her. She trembled with the shock and heartache. Reflexively her hand tightened around the ancient ironbark of her staff. A hopeful but aching sigh was all that broke the silence as her eyes opened taking a purple shift to them. She would wait for him to come to her.

Time seemed to stand still, as the moon’s light fanned over her casting her copper hair in a silver sheen. The waiting had given her a chance to collect herself slowly pulling the silver magic back into the shape of her forearm. Her words beginning to haunt her.

The Inquisition will bow - but it will not be to either of you.

She had implied they would bow to the will of Divine Victoria, a Divine she had installed on the sunburst throne, but in the too still silence of waiting for him, a doubt had taken root in her stomach. How could she bow to someone she put into power. It was as if her organization was too powerful, to be drawn into the reins of Thedas’ current political powers. Ferelden who had tried to disband them, Orlais who sought to enfold them in the deadly game, and the Chantry who sat silent and judging the threat. Neither could control the wolf they had created.

Finally creaking wood echoed in the silent room, granting her a reprieve from her thoughts. Carefully she observed the stairway, her staff resting against her shoulder forcing her face to be the picture of calmness. Her heart began to pick of speed as the ancient protesting of her door opening, the soft clamor of armor rubbing together. Parting her lips she sucked in a breath as golden armor caught the faint amber light.

“Vhenan” her heart froze as she met his eyes. It had been easy to issue biting and ego cutting speeches to the exalted council or even to the nobles who came here seeking her aid in defending them their mistreated servants. She couldn’t make out what he was carrying aside from the color, it was a stark white. Everything about how he stood, screamed he was waiting for her to respond. Two leaders who were pitted on opposite sides of the coming war. What had Mythal said? Alas, so long as the music plays we must dance. She had never said anything about changing the music, or the dance.

It seemed like an hour had passed before in a single moment she shattered the silence that had fallen with a piercing screech of wooden legs against the ancient stone. As she stood her ironbark staff clattered to the ground. Carefully she stepped over her staff and around the desk, letting him see the magic that made up her forearm.

“Vhenan, what brings you to the heart of…your rival’s fortress?” She canted her head, her eyes fixed on him looking for the barest hint of anything in his body language. It was as if two great wolves met and they were weighing the threat the other posed. Cautiously he took a step forward and she also stepped forward. She was at home here and she could not afford to lose what little control she had of the situation.

“You are not my rival, Vhenan. At least I hope not.” Her stomach fluttered as her face warmed. Her hands held onto her tunic desperately hoping that he was not going to abandon her. Not again.

As they drew closer she could see he carried a white wolf pelt, and dreams she had barely started to remember surged forward. Her phantasmal arm pulsed. Under ancient trees, she and Solas ran white and black paws stirring up the leaves. Under the full moon, she often ran ahead of him like the mural encouraging him to chase her. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to shake away the distant memories. It wasn’t the time to sort them, to understand her past.

The silence seemed to stretch between them as slowly her eyes opened shifting from an opal reflecting stands of purple and turquoise to a moonlit silver. He was here, outside of the fade and while everything in her wanted to close the distance he had forced between them. She couldn’t though, she was the Inquisitor, the leader of Andraste’s faithful, and with that came expectations, she would lead the fight against him as much as she and a small force of her most trusted, and probably a few of his spies worked against that, and the guilt of that tore at her to know if he died she would be the cause and that if she died he would likely blame himself again.

“Vhenan.” despite how quiet his voice was it shattered the silence and tugged her back to where they were now. Her eyes met his, did he know the secret she had worked to carefully keep hidden from most of the world. She drew in a breath as he stepped closer, something had changed, in the way he walked and held himself.

“Vhenan…” he paused just a step away from her “Please before we run out of time…come with me.” She drew back, her lips parting as her eyes widened in silent shock. Her thoughts raced as she searched his face, his posture, anything for a clue to what had changed to cause him to seek her out to bring her into his fold. She knew since her return that Solas had agents in Skyhold, she didn’t have a definitive list of names but she had a few guesses and she couldn’t think anything that would have been reported back to draw him out.

“Why?” She couldn’t keep the suspicion away from her voice, even as struggled against the sting of tears threatening to fall. As she waited for his answer her eyes fell to the fur he carried, it wasn’t stark white, there were hints of cream and silvers in the long fur. A slight shift as he adjusted his hold in the fur showed something that was almost like that looked like fine silk.

“Fen’aslan, I…” he paused holding her gaze there was no hardness and almost as if he had dropped the walls he had put up when he left her in the ruins. “I cannot apologize for my behavior, there is nothing that could make what I have done forgivable.” There was another pause. “We both carry burdens we cannot shrug off despite how much we may want to, however, I want to offer you a way to remove that burden completely.” Slowly he unwrapped the pelt to reveal the silk gown that seemed to be made of storm clouds. “A gift, should you wear it anywhere, at any time, someone will escort you to the crossroads and to a haven.”

Her fingers gently stroked the dress and fur, both seemed to be made for her, she could picture how they would compliment her.

“Solas…” she met his eyes. “Thank you, I love it.” it was a way out an escape from an already planned future. Tears that she had struggled against began to stain her cheeks as her mouth went dry. He was trying to save her in the most delicate and from what she could tell a well-planned way. From the outside, it would look as if she had been stolen away and imprisoned but it was a plan. Leaning forward she took the fur and gown from him.

“Please stay Solas at least for the night,” she whispered brushing her lips against his. Her chest tightened in a fragile thread of hope, he nodded his hand touching the magic that made up her left arm.

“Just the night Vhenan.” She gave a genuine smile that reached her eyes, for the first time in years. The world could wait for a single night.

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the-house-of-the-nine · 5 years

Text

In Depths Below: Fire and Ice.

Several Months Ago . . .

“Much. . . if not everything from the estate is gathered and sent already.” Kross; the loyal steward of the illustrious Inquisitor said in his normal, obedient voice. Not to loud, not at all soft and with just the right bit of gruff undertone to be comfortable. “Very little is to remain, save for a small battalion of our best, some students who wish to maintain the magical barriers and a few hands from the wait staff.”

“Always a concern to have to abandon your post and move toward hallowed ground.” Lazarius replied with a muffled voice; covered by the ebony lambskin glove that adorned his hand, but allowing him to still speak clearly. He was sitting in the large red velvet arm chair of the great hall of his estate. How many times had the lot of them gathered here in the past several months leading up to today. Planning the attack on Grim Batol, the siege of the forces who were behind their potential fall, the construction of their base of operation in Stormwind, raiding those thieves in Uldum. Lazarius fondly remembered every last account that took place here in their estate, but there were fond memories as well. The self proclaimed Prince Kashebahl, his adopted son Raith. The discovery of he and Pyravari’s youngest sister Siida, and how she had returned. Even the miraculous conception of Verzatea’s infant, little did they know the truth behind that was far worse than he’d every lead on. But he thought, and thought; and in his silence Kross would challenge him with only the most stern of glances.

“It will be alright, Ser.” the old gilnean voiced with the tone similar to his first sentence. Hoping to ease the mind of the trouble lord and the weight that was surely balanced on the very paper thin edge of his psyche.

“Isn’t it always? Some how or another we always manage to sneak past. We always happen to come out clean on the other end no matter how dirty the situation or how dire the circumstances.” Lazarius moved the muffling hand slowly toward his brow line where it would support the weight of his very heavy crown. “That luck will eventually run out. . .”

“Which is precisely why you’ve taken precautions. I am thoroughly impressed at the dedication you’ve put forth in making sure we are ahead of the curve.” Kross would naturally move toward his master and where he sat, offering words of encouragement the best he could.

Lazarius fell silent to the thought of what may or may not eventually happen in the result of this war that was being thrust on the lot of them. It was no lie that on the surface they were doing everything possible to give off the impression that they supported the Horde and their mission. Lazarius had offered plenty from his own personal coffers to fund the war machine in their latest efforts, even going as far as to send a large donation toward the invasion of Darkshore.

The House of Kashebahl had openly confessed their loyalty to the Horde and also Quel’thalas in the coming of war. He and his youngest sister both were both proud supporters of the cause. Each had their own public interest and would have been very vocal and supportive toward any endeavors that the Magistrate had chosen to take. Siida was always naturally drawn toward her compassion, there had been many times already Lazarius had instructed her to go forth and help aid in the joining of citizens. Organizing small luncheons, paying for the open bake sale of sweets and treats for the youth. Whatever needed to be done to ensure that for face value, The Kashebahls were a caring and supportive household in the eyes of the nobility and the general public.

“Ser.” Kross piped in again, his tone much more rough and demanding this time as he was trying to break through the concentration of his master. “As I was trying to lead into . . . the gateway home has been opened and the Lady Kashe’bahl has asked that you join her in the observatory to discuss tactics on our ground forces in the Bastille.”

“Of course Kross. . .” He slowly pulled away from his own thoughts, Lazarius did not like the idea of leaving his inherited homeland to wither and rot. But it was reassuring that at least a good selection of residents would keep it functioning in their stead. “Go ahead. . .I am coming. Tell Pyravari that I will be along shortly.”

“Very good Ser.” Kross stated with a firm nod of his head and an even more formal bow to his master. The fact of the matter was that the two men had a similar feeling that it would be some time before they walked these halls again. Only Lazarius wore his regret and fear on his sleeve, Kross was far more reserved. “It will be several days before our caretakers arrive, I will see to it that the hearths are all extinguished. . . they can light their own fires.”

“....they can light their own fires. . . .”

“...they can light their own fires. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tirisfal: Present Day. . .

The Alliance came.

They came with vengeance poised on every sword, every shield and every soul that placed boots on soil on the formerly hallowed ground of their comrades. They came with a fury that ignited in the hearts of every man, woman and child old enough to bare arms against the tyrannical monster that was Sylvannis Windrunner. When they had marched through the dark forests of Tirisfal on the unsuspecting village of Brill, they made short work of any established landmark that was in their wake. It was up to the digression of the commanding officer no doubt whether to pillage, burn or destroy anything that was not sworn to the Alliance, but in times of war and when passions were hot, so too were the torches that ignited their wrath.

They stormed the beaches, and marched through the forests with their war machines and soldiers to the blue and white lion banner that graced the tops of nearly all their armor and armaments. But this was not a battle to wipe out the Horde. They came for retaliation against Teldrassil. This was a direct peace violation and Sylvannis had to pay. Sadly though there were so many others that had gotten caught in the aftermath of what Anduin was trying to prevent. Clearly this was not a war of genocide. There was no mark on the innocent people of the Horde. Just those foolish enough to raise arms against the Alliance king and his forces. Though as previously stated, tensions burned hot and torches burned hotter.

The specific regiment of troops that happened to cut a path through the woods of Tirisfal would be fortunate enough to stumble through an area of the woods that were previously undetected by most...

“How does it work?” asked the Headmaster one time as they spoke and conversed on their own.

“Well. . . I don’t rightly know to be honest. When Raelyndia; my former Mistress by the way, when Raelyndia purchased this land from a Baron of Lordaeron it was her intention to make it an impenetrable fortress. So around the grounds she installed wards to give someone the illusion of dilation. The grounds are. . .roughly one hundred acres or so. . . but the key is the location of the bordering tree line. When walking through woodland, most are not clever enough to realize they have bypassed several hundred trees, they all look the same. So that is what she did. The second one who is uninvited sets foot on our grounds, they are teleported; all be it unknowingly, to the opposite side of the grounds in the same direction they were walking. . . a small fourth dimensional gap if you will, bending the space around them and spitting them out on the opposite side. If you are welcome. . .well it lets you pass...” Lazarius would respond to the best of his ability.

The problem with such a device in hindsight was that it worked perfectly for the curious hunter who walked too far into unwanted land. For the child who was lost in the woods and could not find their way. For perhaps the subtle rogue who thought they were sneaky.

One thing that was not taken into consideration was an entire battalion of marching troops that were on the warpath. Even after Lordaeron fell to the Forsaken and was entirely lost to the Alliance, Raelyndia stood firm in her conviction that her manor was to remain, though it was given to the Lord and Lady Kashebahl in exchange for their son. She did keep the wards in tact. Even after her death, and the death of his parents. Lazarius did eventually make his way back and rebuild, reinstate and reclaim the estate. They held.

But this was not something that was expected. Several hundred making their way through at once. On foot and on horseback. Artillery and commanders shoving through the ranks with flagmen and runners going about. This entire force would be contained if it was perhaps half, but the wards could not handle such a massive onslaught.

“Commander!” yelled one footman from the flank. “Incoming messenger.”

At that moment, a young Ren’dorei who was serving at the time as a runner, would race through the group of heavily armored infantry to deliver a message to the lead man on horseback.

“Commander Dixon, scouts have located a large structure up ahead. A massive residence, looking all but abandoned.” the spry young man would spout as he attempted to keep up with the driving leader on horseback.

“We’ve our orders to take down anything in the path of our artillery. Whatever and whoever it belongs is more than likely hiding, Forsaken or both. We burn it and anyone else who tries to prevent us!”

There wasn't much that could be done to sway the need to get back for the lives lost in Darkshore. It wasn't just the fact that the Horde now occupied a large portion of Alliance land, but the lives lost. There were countless soldiers that fought bravely, mostly Kal’dorei but as the Alliance desperately tried to counter it became apparent that things were lost from the start.

Add to that, most who served were a mixed bunch. There were men and women in this battalion and others across Tirisfal just in that moment that were in need of revenge and would go to any length to ensure the weight of what happened in Teldrassil was felt here. Soldiers of all walks. People who had lost friends and family there.

And in this specific company, the desire to keep that fire burning was what led to the incident at the Kashebahl estate. . .

Nothing was held back when the large force pushed through and trampled every inch of the ground. They decimated the graveyard with their feet and trampling animals. They destroyed the sacred bond having been placed on the soil which allowed on the Nine to pass. They marched through the wetlands and hunting grounds, causing their war fueled hatreds to only rise in anticipation of what was to come. And they stood, shoulder to shoulder gazing up at the magnificent structure that lay before them when they reached the center of the grounds. They stood there with the commanding officer at the helm, poised on his word.

“Pre-war. . .” Dixon murmured to himself.

The soldiers all gazed upon the structure. Some admired it, others only felt it was an eyesore. Even those who did not seem to care one way or another.

“First and Fourth units. Ground floor. Third and Fifth, take the top and attic. I want Magnice and Malloy on perimeter. Second and Sixth take the mid levels and when you finish, all of you run clean up on the basement.” Dixon shouted out to his regiment. “The rest of you march on, we want those engines and towers through here by daybreak.”

The word was given. Soldiers assigned to each of these groups would spring into action. The larger collection moving on under the command of no doubt a second officer. But for now, the lead man would remain and watch all that was happening.

“These may be civilians. . .so proceed with ca-”

So much for that idea. It would not be long before to doors were forced open and several of Pyravari’s most trusted and trained swordsmen had rushed the Alliance into the choke point. This was a losing battle, but as these members of the cult were there to protect or die trying, defeat was not an option to simply take laying down. Surrender was not either.

Dixon gave the order and the six groups he had assigned began to attack. “Hostiles, everyone in position! This is a Horde outpost!”

The sad reality of this situation was it was neither civilians trying to protect their home, nor were these Horde loyalists looking to attack or relay information to their own side. It was nothing but a cult of individuals who had eventually planned to let the Alliance and Horde kill one another. Enemies none the less, but this entire situation would be forced into the history books; if at all even declared, as a hostile location.

It became more and more evident to Dixon as the battle with the two dozen or more soldiers that this was no simple Horde outpost. Pyravaris soldiers took out nearly half of what the Alliance had brought to the table here. She had trained them to live, fight and die well. But what came soon after was even more heinous than slaughtering the enemy soldiers. Everyone was killed here.

Dixon was a proud man. And more so than proud, he was a loyal man. Loyal to the Alliance. Loyal to his King and his superiors. But above all else, loyal to himself. His greed. And his vengeance.

He killed the students guarding the libraries and sacred areas. He killed the wait staff who were trying to protect the younger students in their last efforts. And when the sounds of screaming men and women had ceased, he killed Lazarius’ final hopes of ever reclaiming what was his.

Anything that was appearing of worth was taken. Paintings, Furniture, Tables, and Cabinets. If there was a trunk that could not be opened, it was taken.

“All of that goes back to my camp, I want every last article left off the record and on a ship back to Northshire before the day is out, is that clear!”

In the end, a final insult to any that had hoped to reclaim this place once more was the act of leveling it to the ground. The order to raze the entire land was put into effect. And after preparing whatever tinder they could to ignite the blaze, it was quickly set ablaze with the single act of hatred for a very greedy man.

The Kashebahl estate burned in a brilliant light of yellow, orange and red. White dancing flickering lights would decorate the night sky as not only this part of Tirisfal was burning, but so many others.

Brill had fallen, and the surrounding area that would be in its local area as well. So many homes lost. So many people displaced. But Lazarius had no love for them, nor did he care. What hit him the hardest in the coming days and weeks after this incident would far outweigh the loss of his ancestral home

A Horde flag and several other choice items would be placed around the grounds to make this look like an actual attack on a camp. But as no other would be coming across these lands for some time after the trap to unleash Blight into the air and ground was revealed, it was clear that this attempt was mute.

It would be some time before Lazarius, Pyravari & Siida would be permitted to return here. The Blight would luckily only stay around for a short time as this was some of the more far away reaches of the invasion. But duty called. They could not just stop what they were doing to return here. In fact it would not be for several weeks when communications with those who were supposed to be in command of keeping the estate safe, ceased. This time of dread and loss would only continue for the Nine as a curious letter was recovered by the younger sibling.

Some weeks later. . .

“Brother.” Siida came bounding into the Library with a scroll that was sealed in a thick leather band and a sealed emblem of what appeared to be a fire in wax on the end. “This was in our estate box at the magistrate today.”

“Another pointless donation I am guessing?” Lazarius had become used to having to donate. Again and Again. “Give it here Flower.”

The exchange between brother and sister would be teased as she offered it, and retracted. “Do I get an allowance for retrieving it again?” she asked.

“What? Wh-No!” he snapped in return. “I could have sent Kross to get it for nothing!”

“Ah yes, but Kross cannot parade around Quel’thalas like I can, dear brother. .” Siida happily squeaked as she dodged his hand with her offer of the scroll.

Gods help him she was learning all too well. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Fine fine. . .just give it!”

She chuckled and dropped the scroll in his hand before leaping around behind him and curling her thin little arms around his neck for a hug. “You’re such a good big brother!”

Oh how he despised this. She was far too chipper for him and all he could do was simply unroll the letter after breaking the seal in hopes that she would scuttle off and save him the affection. But as the two siblings went on, it was soon realized that this was not just a simply donation letter.

“Silence is expensive ; Our price has doubled.”

Lazarius sat there frozen, his sister looking toward him, then back at the scroll. The two of them now locked on the parchment that seemed to be louder than any voice they had heard before.

“What is it. . .what does it mean?”

“. . . It means we are in trouble. . . “

Continued in “In Depths Below: Blackmail”

@siidaraykashebahl

@pyravari

@daltalah

@whatadarkbitch

@zalraazurestar

@thebladeitself

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jonogueira · 7 years

Text

Áine.

Here’s the AO3 and the link to Moon Hair e Fire Eyes. I was listening to this while writing.

Chapter 14

Satinalia - Áine.

The sun was barely visible in Skyhold; the fortress was bathed in the morning shadows. The main hall walls were still dark, but some candlelight could be seen in the windows. The sounds of swords against swords and good mornings with their correspondent acknowledged grunts filled the place.

The foggy breaths against the chilly wind and the snow-covered ground were, for her, part of the decoration. She felt her chest lighten, she couldn’t see, but she was sure her eyes were gleaming, and she heard herself humming.

Satinalia had always been her favorite holiday, with all the festivities, gift exchanging and the decoration.

Josephine, once more, did an excellent work with it, especially because they had just arrived in Skyhold, but she decided to have a small celebration to boost the morale. There were some charcoal gray, crimson and red ornaments on the trees, reminding the Inquisition colors. A few wreaths and garlands were hanging here and there around Skyhold, as were mistletoe strategically placed. In that moment, she couldn’t see them entirely, but later, with the sun high in the sky, she knew she would have her heart racing.

Áine woke up with an adrenaline rush, a huge desire of hugging everyone and wishing them a wonderful Satinalia. She straightened her spine, and when a long yawn escaped her mouth, she stretched and had an idea. She changed her clothes, putting on her hottest coat, and left her tent greeting and shaking everyone’s hand on her way to the fortress, and there, as much as she tried, she couldn’t take the smile out of her lips.

Bouncy determined steps led her there, to the kitchen’s door. She was going to cook.

She wanted to give Cullen a present, but with her lack of money, she had to resort to creativity. She wasn’t the best cook, but she managed.

She pushed the kitchen door and was greeted with… nothing. The kitchen was empty; it was still early after all. Entering the kitchen her heart sunk, she had been there many times, well not there ‘there’, she had walked through the place many times on her way to the old library, but never really did or made anything ‘there’. Spices, fruits, meat, grains, ingredients were all over.

“It’s gonna be an adventure.” – She heard herself saying.

She closed the door, started the oven fire and leaned on the table trying to recall the recipe.

“Flour, salt, sugar, melted butter, and milk.” – She reminded herself.

She looked for them and found the flour near the oven, the salt and sugar on top of the shelf near the door and the butter among the spices. By now the kitchen was warm enough that she took her coat off and hung it on the doorknob, she also remembered the song Maryden sung the day before and started singing.

♪

♪ Find Me Still searching For someone To lead me Can you Guide me To the revolt inside me ♪

She looked at the table, and a bliss sensation filled her chest, she was light. She washed her hands and placed a bowl on it.

♪ Promise Surviving The Breach ♪

She placed the butter to melt in the oven while she mixed the flour, salt, and sugar with a wooden spoon. The milk was in a bottle near the grains on the opposite wall of the oven.

♪ Promise Surviving The Breach In the Sky ♪

She added the butter to her dried ingredients and mixed with her hands, the milk was added in small amounts. She took two steps back and gasped when she turned to take the pie tray and saw Cole standing near the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” – The boy tilted his head right.

“It’s alright Cole. Can I help you?” – She cleaned her hands on a cloth.

“No.”

“Is there anything you need?” – She frowned.

“No.”

“Is there a problem?” – Her body tensed up.

“No. I came because I heard you. ‘Bouncing, singing, giggling, golden curls, honey-colored eyes, biting lip, deep breath, circle, demon, scar, tight throat, pacing, shaking head, stupid, bad idea, so naïve, shouldn’t have fallen in love, he’s not for me’. But he doesn’t know, how can he know?”

“Oh, Cole… it’s too complicated.” – She didn’t look in his eyes.

“’Scar, not yours, his, not in body, but in mind, soul’. You think you will remind him of bad memories, you think you are nothing but a bad memory. ‘Magic, mage, blood mage, abomination’…”

“Cole, please…” – She lowered her head and played with her fingers.

“You’re wrong… he’s changed, he’s a different man. He’s not a templar anymore, mages are not the enemies, they are both victims and villains, as is anyone else. He doesn’t want the blue, but the song is loud, too loud sometimes, louder than him, duty, life. He’s trying, he’s hurt, he’s suffering, but he’s trying. He’s strong, stronger than you think, but frail, fragile, lonely. He may surprise you.” – His soothing voice made her look at him.

Áine was trying to absorb the information. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, and pressed them together, her hands were in front of her body, she took a hard swallow, she stammered trying to give him an answer, to say something. She cleaned the table, and organized the ingredients back to their places, she glanced at the half-finished pie dough and the pie tray. Her heart was racing, but…

“You want to try. I’ll help.” – The boy offered her an honest smile.

Áine lips were curved, she took a small amount of dough and stuffed Cole’s mouth with it.

“I was thinking…”

“Honey. Yes, he will like that.”

Cole found the honey and poured into the bowl while Áine mixed it. She placed the pie in the oven to bake and started looking for the other ingredients.

“Chocolate and strawberries.”

“Chocolate and strawberries Cole.”

Áine cut the chocolate into small pieces and melted it while Cole continued the song.

♪ Templar Igniting Fire inside me ♪

“Cole, I want this to be our secret, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not ready. Don’t know if I will be one day, but it’s a start.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

The kitchen was bright and hot, the smell of pie was everywhere, Cole was sitting in a chair near the table, Áine was taking the pie from the oven when they heard footsteps. She placed the pie on the table and grabbed the cloth with all her strength, her head was high, and her eyes were locked on the door, but nothing happened.

“’I made them go away. Now you can finish his pie.”

A loud noise erupted from her chest, and she realized it was laughter.

“Thank you, little helper.” – She lifted his hat and messed his hair.

“But I am taller than you.”

“Yes, you are! Yes, you are.”

She filled the pie with chocolate and decorated with the strawberries she had cut and some grated chocolate on top.

She clutched her pants and sighed.

“To finish, a note. What do you think Cole?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to do this alone if you don’t mind.”

“Okay. If you need anything call me.”

Áine placed a kiss on his cheek and watched him shrug and leave the place. His reaction made her laugh.

She finished the note and folded it carefully. Now that everything was done she needed to find a way to sneak into his office. Easier said than done. She couldn’t just walk through the lower courtyard or the throne room with a pie on her hands and not expect people to notice. She needed a box to hide the pie, but she didn’t have… a box was on the of the table.

“Thanks, Cole.” – She didn’t see him but she knew he could hear her.

She took her coat and left the kitchen. The wind was so cold she felt all her bones freeze, her nails were turning into a bluish hue, but she walked on.

“Well, at least the cook will be happy to enter a hot kitchen.”

The sun wasn’t high enough yet to shoo the shadows away, so there was almost no one outside.

“I can do this. I can totally do this.” – She paced in front of his door for five minutes, placed her hands on her sides three times, walked away seven times, placed her ears on the door twice trying to listen in, and opened the door once.

There she was with the box in one hand and the doorknob in the other, the place was dark and quiet, she listened for any sounds, nothing, it was cold and empty. She remembered Cullen usually exercised before his morning routine, and that he was probably running somewhere. She glanced back, produced a small ball of light and made sure no one saw her enter.

This was the first time she entered his office. There was a bookshelf filled with war, chantry and other kinds of books, his chess pieces were fondly kept in a row of the shelf, which made her chuckle.

“He really loves chess.” – She whispered while tracing her fingers on them.

She noticed there was decoration here too, the minimal, probably on Josephine’s insistence. She smiled to herself when she noticed there were no mistletoes.

There was an upper floor, she figured it was his private room, where he slept and… Her eyes shut close, her hand clutched her coat, and she took two steps back from the ladder, thinking about him and other women nauseated her.

She moved to his desk, it was neatly clean and organized, there were columns of papers on it, letters ready for dispatch, letters recently arrived, letters unfinished and others. She was tempted to look for the letters he refused to answer, but she stopped herself, she could find something she regretted. Would there be marriage proposals? Love letters? He was the Commander of the Inquisition, the Lion of Ferelden, of course there were. She shook her head, and let the thoughts slip away.

Áine gently placed her pie on the table and moved to his fireplace, it was empty, there was no log there. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, in fact, it seemed it was never used, she knew they had just finished some renovation in Skyhold, and she knew they added fireplaces in the quarters around, but why he never used it intrigued her. She gathered some logs and started the fire, she lit the candles around his office too.

She turned her attention to his table and placed the note on the top of the box, she hoped the pie would be warm by the time the Commander came back, she was turning to leave when she noticed something she hadn’t before. A little ice daisy was placed on top of some books, she took it and examined it near the fireplace, it seemed Cullen held it dear enough to keep it.

She wondered if he knew it was her magic that created it, it didn’t matter to Áine, her heart was full of joy, and it was the best present she could have asked. She placed it on top of her note, left his office behind and headed to the valley.

Thank you!

#áine #aine #cullen rutherford #satinalia - áine #satinalia

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swfanficbyjz · 7 years

Text

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 3

<- Previous Chapter

Ahsoka curled herself into a fetal position on the cold metal floor of the cell that Vader had dragged her back to. She was exhausted. How long had he been torturing her? How much time had passed? Her head pounded, her vision was blurry. What has he turned you into? She thought. Every system in her body felt off. She tried to reach for the force to find some peace only to draw back as a sharp pain rippled through her skull. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she had no real recollection of any information he might have gotten from her. She hoped her friends were safe, especially Rex. He'd survived too much, to die by the hands of his general. But Anakin wasn't his general anymore. She wasn't sure what he was.

She felt numb. As if nothing in her life had any purpose anymore. She'd fought so hard during the clone wars, believing that every battle brought the Republic closer to victory; that every victory would save countless lives. After the Jedi purge, she'd struggled to find footing and meaning, until she'd stumbled along people she could help. To face the true outcome in the eyes of every person she met had made the conflict in the galaxy so much more real to her than slicing in half countless battle droids. It had been hard for her to swallow that there really was no victory in war. There was victory in battle, but not war. Battles could swing one way or another depending who out powered who. Anakin, her, Rex and the rest of torrent company, had constantly shifted the tide against all odds. But as she looked back on all of it now... what had been the point? The Republic had fallen. The war lost. So many innocent people lost homes, lost loved ones, lost beliefs... lost everything. And the Jedi were just as much responsible for that as the separatists were; for engaging in the war. For becoming agents of destruction rather than remaining the peacekeepers they'd sworn to be. Republic or Separatist victory, it didn't matter; the people still lost.

Her cheeks burned with shame. She'd had to make sense of what had happened through tidbits of news from a variety of sources. But no matter how much she'd pieced together, it still didn't make much sense. She'd been on Mandalore when the war came crashing down. There had been no warning, just a desperate fight to survive. The rumors that had flown around her had been too much to bear; the Jedi accused of treason and sentenced to death for attempting to overthrow the chancellor, the clones turning on their Jedi generals, then worse, claiming they'd had no control over their actions. Rex had later confirmed the rumors about chips in their heads. But, hadn't the Jedi supposedly been the ones to commission the clones’ creation? Why would they stick something in their head to make their ally turn against them? She may have had many disagreements with the council, but she could not believe they would purposely construct such a grand plot, especially at such a horrendous cost. Normally, she'd have easily blamed the separatists. But the separatists hadn't really won either. The droids had been shut down, count Dooku had been killed, along with Grievous... and rising in the place of the Republic and the Separatist alliance, was this new entity that no one could have predicted. Whatever had happened had been bigger than either side. And nothing really made sense to her anymore. Were they all just pawns? She'd left the Jedi order feeling as though she'd been one for them. But maybe all the Jedi, and all the Sith, the clones, Grievous, Ventress, Dooku, Vader... maybe they'd all been pawns. And we all played our game of sabacc, right into the Emperor's hands.

Ahsoka rolled onto her stomach and tried to push up from the ground with shaky arms. She could feel that Vader was gone. Now was her chance. She wanted truth, and she was going to find it. She clenched her jaw through the residual pain as she reached into the force for her lightsabers. She'd watched Anakin throw his and control it, even turn it on and off without holding it; but he never knew that she had learned how too. She could feel them now, calling to her from the box in the other room. She manipulated the force and ignited them, slowly spinning them until they cut through their container. With her other hand, she removed the top of the box and then reached with invisible force to pull them towards her until she could hear them humming outside the cell door. She twisted them in her mind so they cut a rectangular hole in the bars. The bars fell free with loud clanging that echoed up and down the hallway.

She stood, catching the lightsabers in her hands, feeling a bit more in control now. Their familiar weight felt good. She slipped through the hole she'd just cut and sprinted down the hallway. Her bones ached, her muscles screamed at her. But she didn't know how long he would be gone or how long it would take to find the answers she sought. She wished she could just ask him but even Anakin had been difficult to get answers out of, Vader would probably be even worse, that was, IF he even let her stay conscious enough to ask questions.

She sprinted through the fortress unsure exactly what she was looking for, but letting her instincts guide her. Keeping her ears open for the droid, or droids, she investigated as much of the place as she could. It didn't appear to be too well defended, but then again, Anakin had always been good at upgrading seemingly useless things. Who knew what traps awaited her? But as she searched for hours, she encountered no resistance. Could Vader truly be that complacent? Or that confident that no one would dare sneak into his home? Or just like before when he hadn't disarmed her, was he allowing her to escape? It seemed unlikely considering how much time and effort he'd put into torturing her, that he'd just want her to get up and walk out the door. It's almost as though he keeps giving her the chance to change her mind about being here.

Finally, she stumbled upon what must be his personal chambers. It was sparse, no decorations, minimal furnishings. Simple, necessities. A bacta tank in the center, a chair, a holoterminal and spare parts for his suit. She entered the room cautiously. When nothing jumped out of the shadows at her, she headed for the suit pieces. Discarded to one side was the top half of his helmet that she'd sliced a hole in. She picked it up as memories washed through her of their duel.

There was so much pain! To discover that the monster before her had once been her master. Someone so devoted to others he'd risked everything for them. She'd always believed he'd died a hero during the Jedi purge, she never could have imagined him joining the very evil he had fought every day of his life. That one yellow eye, no longer blue; no longer soft, and loving. Hearing his voice, raspy but distinct. She remembered the way it had felt when she'd first suspected it could be him; the horror, the shame, the denial. Anakin was good, he'd always been good. Good people don't turn evil. At least not without good reason. She sat cross legged on the floor, hugging the broken helmet to her, as tears rolled down her cheeks. "What happened to you, Anakin? Why wasn't I there to save you? I should've had your back, just like you always had mine! But no, I walked away. I was selfish! I thought only of myself! I was so blinded by the burning pain of betrayal, I couldn't stand with you or with the Jedi, after everything they'd done to me."

She set the helmet aside and picked up the vest of another suit. She looked it over, tracing her fingers around the edges. The material was stiff and heavy, but strong. She fiddled with the buttons on the front trying different combinations, wondering what they did. She heard a release of air and looked down inside the neck hole to understand how the breathing system worked. Her senses started getting fuzzy. The room spun for just a moment and then straightened out. She shook her head. She must still be tired from all the torture she'd endured. She looked around, feeling angry suddenly. She wanted to smash something, destroy someone.

She stood up, whipping out her lightsabers; hate raging through her veins. She swung her lightsabers deftly at nothing... paused... and then suddenly it dawned on her. She picked the suit up again and pressed the last combo until the air from it came in a steady stream. She sniffed it, hatred rising up in her again. Anger, red, burning... she wanted revenge! For everything they'd done to her! They deserved to be punished! No... they deserved to die! Her lips snarled, and she raced from the room, bent on destroying them.

She was several hallways away when the anger faded. She'd been right, he was being poisoned! She crept back to the room and force shut off the suit as she held her other hand over her nose and mouth. She waved at the air in front of her trying to clear the gas from the room. Now that she was aware of its presence, the smell of it was unmistakable. It definitely wasn't pure oxygen. She could feel a residual tickle of anger as if it danced across her skin; ready to penetrate at any moment. She made her way to the bacta tank and turned on the life support connected to it as well. Sure enough, she smelled the gas in it too. She shut it off just as quickly and ran out of the room. It was making her weak. She had no idea what kind of substance it could be, but it seemed to have an effect on her ability to connect to the force as well. To be sure, there was one more test she had to try. If this gas did what she suspected, Anakin had literally been forced to inhale it for years. In such a concentrated state, it was hardly surprising that Vader was winning the fight. It obviously wasn't a high enough dosage to be lethal, but it was enough to keep him in a heightened, stress response state. No wonder he permeated anger and hate. Every apparatus required for him to breathe was laced with the stuff. But how to get him away from it without killing him? That was the question... it probably had an addictive quality as well, something he'd experience withdrawal from, not to mention, it would keep him resistant to help unless he was knocked unconscious and taken to a place that had untampered life support.

Well... she thought, time to find out what it really does. She went back to the bacta tank, turned on the life support, and slipped the mask over her head, inhaling deeply several times. She could feel something changing in her.

----

Vader landed the TIE fighter back on Mustafar. The mission hadn't been quite as successful as he'd hoped, but it at least bruised the rebels for a bit. He'd gotten to knock a few imperial heads around too. That had been a highlight. It was time to report to Sidious the status of the mission. He dreaded it, knowing he'd also ask whether Vader had finished Skywalker's apprentice.

He headed straight for his holoterminal but then felt compelled to turn towards the cell blocks to check on his prisoner. Perhaps she'd died while he was gone and he wouldn't have to report yet another failure. He nearly passed the torture room without a thought but then paused and looked inside. The room had been ransacked! Everything in it had been sliced to bits, everything except the wooden box he'd put her lightsabers in. It was still sitting in the corner where he'd left it, and appeared to still be locked. What the kriff? He approached it somewhat cautiously and went to lift the lid, the whole top half had been split with surgeon-like precision. But there inside, still sat her lightsabers. He grabbed them both in one hand and quickly made it to the cell. On the floor by her cell were parts of the cell bars, sliced up just like the torture room. So she couldn't take it then? She escaped. Good riddance... but why would she put her lightsabers back and leave them behind?

He approached the cell slowly, but stiffened when he realized she was still there. Through the hole she'd cut in the bars, she sat with her back to him, cross legged. Power emanated from her, but it felt wrong like it was tainted. He was more confused by the minute.

"Are you proud of me, master?" She broke the silence without even moving. "You wouldn't let me join you, so I absorbed all the anger and hatred from this place so I can be just like you!" He stared at her in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?" He spat out. A million things going through his mind.

She stood up and spun around with her arms out. "Isn't it wonderful? Now we can be together again! Train me master! Train me in the ways of the dark side!"

He took a step back.

"Why do you fear me?" She hissed, her blue eyes squinting in anger. She pulled the lightsabers from his hand, ignited them and raced at him. He barely got his up in time. They clashed furiously, building momentum as they made their way out into the open foyer. Her offensive strikes could have been lethal, but they were unrefined. She seemed stronger in combat, but chaotic in the force. She no longer possessed the calm she'd had on their trip here.

She flipped backward, pushing off the wall and sailing over his head, landing gracefully behind him. He barely had time to turn around before he felt his feet lifted off the ground. He couldn't breathe, as a crushing weight clamped down on his neck and chest. His eyes widened at the realization that she was the one performing the force choke hold on him. Had he taught her that?

Trying not to panic, he focused on force gripping her outstretched arm. She howled in pain, her chokehold loosened enough for him to break free. He swung his lightsaber at her and she flipped backwards; it missed her by a hair. She ducked under his swing, spun around slashing low, forcing him to jump to miss the strike. He brought his blow down hard and she had to use both lightsabers to block it. She pushed him back and rolled to the side, flipping her lightsabers in her hands back to her reverse grip. She then lunged forward at him spinning around with such momentum he had to leap backwards. They matched blow for blow as they fought their way around the fortress, each trying to gain the upper hand. That shouldn't be possible. He could feel the hatred raging in her. Lashing out at him for all that he had done. He realized at some point, that he may not win this fight.

On Malachor, she'd never given in to her true potential. She'd been skilled and far more focused than when he'd last seen her fight, but without passion there had been a void in her abilities that he'd easily exploited. She hadn't wanted to kill him. And... he hadn't really wanted to kill her... they'd both held back. At least, he could tell they had. To anyone else, it probably looked like they were fighting for their lives. The two of them had always been intense fighters. But he knew Ahsoka, he knew how she fought. He knew her state of mind and her focus when she fought and this wasn't her. He had challenged her and pushed her harder than Obi wan had ever pushed him. The unadulterated power that such a little creature could possess would make her a powerful ally of the emperor. But with the Sith, there could only be two. He couldn't take her as his apprentice as long as he had a master. And if his master took her on, he would be killed.

He threw his own rage into the fight. He had not lost everything just to be replaced. He would not let it crumble down on him. She had to die. It was the only way.

----

Ahsoka fought ferociously, letting the gas pollute her mind. She knew he could take it. She didn't feel like herself, but she also didn't feel more powerful either. All the chemical seemed to do in her brain was aggravate her emotions and resolve. It didn't seem to increase her force power. If anything, it was harder and harder for her to call on the force. The emotions blinded her to it. She could still feel its power and presence, she just couldn't find the calm or the light in it. So this was what it was like to be Vader? Kept in a constant state of frenzy, unable to reach for the only thing that could save you. This was the dark side then.

But just as she suspected, it hadn't taken away her ability to think clearly. It had just amplified the negative emotions until she was teetering on the brink; willing and ready to give into the pain, and its power over her. It focused all her actions through the lens of pure hatred. She'd been through so much in her life, but rage had never been her outlet. Not like it had been for Anakin. She'd always managed to clamp it down, to cry or to withdraw. And he had never made her feel ashamed of her feelings. The rest of the Jedi told her constantly to control them. She had become good at focusing them into action and intention, but never unleashing them. Never letting them win over clarity. But there was a clarity to this rage. A clear picture of what you're fighting and what is your enemy.

To test her theory, she'd given in to the anger she'd felt at the Jedi and their betrayal of her. She'd given in to the fear of the future, of herself. She'd given in to the pain of all her heartbreaks and mourning. Of all the losses and suffering and death. She took it out on the black suited monster in front of her as if he was solely responsible for every injustice she'd ever experienced in her life. And suddenly she understood. Anakin had been a slave as a child. Anakin had been forced to put his own will aside for another's gain. First his owner, then the Jedi, and now the Emperor. The difference was, now he was given the option to channel it into a purpose rather than to deny it. She'd wanted the truth, and now she had it; Vader was Anakin. Vader was the version of Anakin that he'd never been allowed to release. Not completely anyways. And because he'd never been given permission to unleash it, it had built up until it was now all consuming. Bariss Offee had been right; it was wrong for the Jedi not to show emotion.

She didn't want to believe that they could be the same person. It hurt more than any physical wound ever could. People who had only ever been his friend were now seen just as guilty as the ones that had hurt him. Maybe they all had hurt him in their own ways. Maybe long term exposure to pain with no relief, caused it to blur all together until that's all anything really was; pain, pain and more pain. Even love could be perceived as pain. And pain led to anger, anger led to hate and hate led to suffering…

She dropped her lightsabers suddenly, just as he swung back to build momentum to strike again. Sensing her sudden weakness, he pushed her back with the force. She flew back into the wall of the fortress so hard she felt several things crack inside her. She slumped to the ground, gritting her teeth to the sharp pain radiating from her back. His looming form blocked out the light. He held his ignited lightsaber over her and she knew the fight wasn't over. She didn't want to finish it.

"I submit to you," she whispered. The strength fading from her voice. "I submit." She repeated weakly as the edges of her vision grew dark. "Kill me, Anakin. Release your pain, free... yourself..."

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