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2amcheese · 1 year

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Alternate Prompt: Fox kills Palpatine

Made for an alternate prompt of @foxquinweek 2023

3,000 words

Tw: suicidal thoughts, suicide, mentions of self-harm, depression, terrible mental health, major character death

Yeahhhhh this is kinda dark, read at your own risk.

^ao3 link

"~*~" means POV switch, should be obvious who it's switching to.

There was something wrong in the force, and Sheev Palpatine did not like it.

There was only one reasonable answer: someone was going to find out. Or already had. He just needed to find out who it was, and how to eliminate them.

Fortunately, he had a suspect. There was one Jedi who he’d found constantly dripping with contempt around him, who was just clever enough and just reckless enough to maybe figure something out. He was skilled, and smart, and could get information that hardly anyone else could.

Jedi Shadow Quinlan Vos.

And Sheev had a plan. He knew that despite his skills, Vos was not mentally stable. He had struggled with depression, feelings of self-hatred, and worthlessness since he was a padawan. This was his main weakness, and the one he would exploit.

It would be easy enough. Vos was very close with Sheev’s own Guard Commander, CC-1010. Fox, as he preferred. And of course, Sheev could control Fox.

Order number two, he thought, for this. Order Two: the clone will completely and wholeheartedly believe everything the Speaker tells him.

One of his favorites. Order one, controlling their body, was fun; but making them truly believe it… that was power.

Quinlan would find himself failing his current mission, Sheev could ensure that. He would come home dejected and looking for comfort in his friend Fox, but Fox would already have his orders.

It would be a suicide. There would be no way to track it back to him. Then he could be rid of the niggling feeling in the back of his head, whispering, you are in danger.

~*~

Fox knew Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord.

He did not know what to do about it.

He wasn’t sure he had enough proof to make everyone believe him, and he didn’t know where to start, almost everyone loved the Chancellor. He knew the first person he wanted to talk to about it, but unfortunately, the Jedi Shadow was off-world on another minimal contact mission, and he had to wait until he returned. And avoid the Sith in the meantime.

Which was not to be, as he had just received a summons from Palpatine. Fox touched the detonator lying in his belt. This was his big backup plan: blow the Chancellor’s whole office up. He had bombs placed throughout the room, the best that the GAR had.

But he wanted to avoid that, as he didn’t want to kill the Chancellor’s guards. He had no idea who was in on the secret, and Fox did not want to kill innocents.

That was his backup plan. His first was to talk to Quinlan Vos, his close friend, longtime crush, and avid hunter of the Sith.

It would have to wait until after his talk with Palpatine though. If he survived.

Fox approached the chancellor’s door. “The Chancellor requested my presence,” he said to the guards. They stepped aside and let him in. Fox walked in with a steeling breath.

“Hello, Commander,” Palpatine said, turning around in his chair. His usual pleasant smile was plastered in place.

“Chancellor,” Fox said, saluting sharply. “Come, come I have information to share with you.”

Fox walked up to his desk and waited.

“Commander Fox, Order Two, if you would.” Fox didn’t know what that meant but he reminded himself again of the detonator in his pocket.

“Quinlan Vos is a traitor to the republic, and must be exterminated.” Fuck. There went his plans of telling Quin about the chancellor. That was bad.

The chancellor continued, “He has plans to betray the republic, the democracy, all that is important to the war effort. He is not your friend, he is a bad person and he deserves this. I need you to deal with him, and I need it to look like a suicide. I am aware of your friendship with him.” Fox nodded. This was no secret. “I am also aware of his shaky mental health. Successfully goad him into killing himself and the republic will be safe.”

This was… heartbreaking. Fox loved Quinlan! He was one of his best friends! He was always so good to his men, to him… He was so important to Fox. But if he was planning on betraying the republic… Fox couldn’t let him. But he also couldn’t live in a world where he had killed him.

“Anything for the republic,” he replied bleakly to the Chancellor.

“Excellent. He returns today, already weakened by a failed mission. I expect he will come to your office soon after, hoping to feel better. Of course, your presence will have the alternate effect.” Palpatine grinned widely. “Thank you for your compliance, Commander.”

“Of course, Chancellor. Good soldiers follow orders.”

“Dismissed.” Fox saluted a final time, turning and marching briskly out of the office. At least Palpatine hadn’t found out what he knew.

He headed back to his office. Now to wait for Quinlan.

~*~

Quinlan Vos was having a shit day.

His mission had gone downhill fast. He had barely escaped with his life after they found out he was a jedi—and how had they known? Very few people knew about him, he kept to himself on Coruscant for a reason. He tried not to make it obvious when he betrayed his criminal partners so there was less of a chance of his reputation spreading. He was always so careful.

And yet they had burst in while he was sleeping, yelling about jedi, and he had forced his way through them and ran off.

He hated this. He hated failing, if only he’d been more careful, more clever—He shook his head fervently, trying to shake off the thoughts. He grabbed the yoke of his ship to have something to do with his hands instead of scratching anxiously at his skin. The Jedi would not be happy.

He ignored the part of him that was eager to go home and see Fox. The mission had been a failure, HE was a failure, it was a wonder Fox deigned to talk to him, he only ever distracted him from his work, he was a burden—and he shook his head again, flipped on autopilot, and went to distract himself.

Maybe work himself into exhaustion with a punching bag. Maybe he should stop telling Fox not to do that, he was going to start sounding like a hypocrite.

He arrived at the Jedi temple not too long after, with freshly bleeding knuckles he wrapped up quickly. He had to debrief with the council, which was going to be a nightmare. The only good person there was Obi-Wan, and even he got fed up with Quinlan’s antics sometimes. He was too immature and reckless for the others. Master Yoda always expressed great patience, but he knew he let him down sometimes too.

He walked to the council room gathering up his usual bravado. Sometimes it felt like the only reason he was still alive. Talk about how amazing you are for long enough and maybe you’ll start to believe it.

He was holding out hope.

He flung the council chamber doors open and sauntered to the center of the circle. “Grandmaster Yoda. Masters,” he said, inclining his head at them. He winked at Obi-Wan, who rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Hello, Master Vos. Good to see you, it is,” Yoda spoke.

Quinlan flashed him a grin. “I’m sure.”

“To the point.” Master Windu’s face was as stern as ever. “Your mission was a failure.”

Quinlan blocked out his thoughts and replied, “Yep.”

“Any idea why?”

“They found out I was a jedi somehow. I couldn’t stick around long enough to figure it out. As you know, I hadn’t contacted you in a while, and I had not used the force during the mission. My lightsaber was well hidden and they didn’t have it nor knew where it was. They burst in on me while I was sleeping, luckily the force woke me early and I was able to fight my way out.”

“We’re disappointed in you, Quinlan. You’re usually so good at these.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“If you have been neglectful and the criminal underground knows your face, you shall no longer be useful as a Shadow.”

“I am aware of this.” Vos accepted the criticism, folding it into his mind to deal with later. That compartment of his mind was getting pretty full.

“You will upload a full mission report, including any information you can contribute despite your failure, to the proper sector. Perhaps we can find a replacement they will not figure out as easily.”

“Yes, Master Windu.”

“Dismissed.”

Quinlan shot them a quick two-fingered salute and sauntered out of the chamber, ignoring the way his legs were shaking.

“Good to see you, it was, Master Vos,” Yoda called as he left. Quinlan wondered if Mace and Yoda knew about the good cop/bad cop routine they pulled.

Quinlan hated this. He used to love when he succeeded, but that was normal now. It brought him no pleasure, merely mild satisfaction. He did it more to avoid failure than for any joy it brought him. Anything to avoid their disappointed stares, their sharp words, this fucking feeling.

He needed to talk to someone. And his close friend and longtime crush, Commander Fox, was likely sitting in his office doing too much paperwork and not sleeping enough.

That was the good part of coming back to Coruscant. Fox’s gruff affection always cheered him up, the way Quinlan had to coax it out of him and always managed it, the way he showed he cared so wordlessly. Fox always made him feel better.

~*~

Fox wasn’t waiting long before the Jedi arrived, bearing his usual cheerful look. “Heyyy, Fox. Guess who’s back?” He walked in the door.

“You, presumably? Shame,” Fox responded dully. He’d taken off his helmet.

“Aw, don't be like that, Fox. You love me.” Quin—Vos draped himself across the chair Fox had bought for him months ago. Before he knew he was a traitor.

“I don’t.” Fox said, raising an eyebrow. “Who would?”

Vos had dropped his smile. “W-what?”

“Do I really have to go into further detail?” Fox rolled his eyes. “You’re immature, foolish, stupid, weak, and you only make my life harder.” Vos regarded him with a blank stare. “You failed the first command you were ever given. You got my brothers killed. You can’t do anything but fail, and hurt people. You’re a burden on everyone who cares about you. I can’t believe I wasted so much time on being your friend.” He spat the last word out like venom.

It hurt to say. But Vos wasn’t his friend. He was a bad person, and he deserved this.

Then Quinlan burst into laughter. “Wow! Thank you for your honesty! Damn, I always knew I was right.” He was grinning as his eyes filled with tears. “You’re right.”

“You’re a burden.”

“You’re right.”

“You’re worthless.”

“You’re right.”

“You shouldn’t even be here.”

Quinlan was openly crying as admitted to Fox, “You’re right.”

Fox would not be able to live with himself after this, he knew. But he had to do this. For the republic. The clones had been engineered to have very dry tear ducts, and he was grateful for it—it was hard to maintain this level of apathy.

“Thank you,” Quinlan offered to him. “For being honest.”

“You deserve to hear the truth,” Fox choked out.

Quinlan stood up and walked over to him. “Please—help me.” he said. “I know what to do. I know how to make things better. But I—” he broke off. “Just kill me,” he asked. “I—for everyone’s sake. Please?”

“Yes.” Fox was close to crying now, he didn’t know what he was doing, everything was a mess in his head—but there was the chancellor’s voice: he is not your friend. He is a bad person. He deserves this.

But he loved him.

Fox took Quinlan’s lightsaber off his belt and stared him in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Quin, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He felt Quin melt into the kiss, wrap his arms around him as well and he smiled gently, felt Quin do the same, their hearts beating next to each other in sync—

And he activated the saber in Quin’s back, spearing them both through the heart.

~*~

Seeing Fox was not the relaxing, entertaining encounter it usually was.

He entered like usual, Fox complained about him like usual, and Quinlan laughed it off like usual.

But this time Fox didn’t roll his eyes and return to his paperwork. Instead, he said no one would ever love Quinlan because he was weak and stupid and worthless.

He never even wanted to be his friend, and he said that with such anger and disgust Quinlan burst into laughter. It was funny, because it was true. It was funny, because that was exactly what he had been thinking! His head wrapped Fox’s words around itself, confirming everything he’d ever thought.

He had never thought Fox would say that though.

But he trusted Fox, and his judgment. He also trusted Fox not to be this cruel unless he absolutely had to. Quinlan was worse than he thought.

Fox was right. Fox was right, and Quinlan told him that, again and again—and then Fox said it. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

Quinlan got the feeling he didn’t just mean Fox’s office. And he was still right. There was no point for him being here, even Fox thought so—He felt tears running down his cheeks as he choked out, “Thank you for being honest.”

Fox’s face was impassive. “You deserve to hear the truth.” Quinlan couldn’t tell him he meant it in a good or bad way.

He got out of his chair--the chair Fox had gotten for him--and walked over to him.

“Please help me,” he begged. “I know what to do, to make things better, but I--” he broke off, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Just-- just kill me,” he said faintly. “For everyone’s sake. Please.” He shouldn’t be dumping that on Fox, he knew, but he couldn’t do anything else, he could barely think.

“Yes,” Fox granted, and stood up to meet him. He looked at least a little sad now, that unemotional expression morphing into something slightly different, and Quinlan couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

Fox drew him close, pulling them together. It was what Quinlan had always wanted, and would never truly get.

Fox kissed him then, to Quinlan’s surprise, but he fell into it anyway--he was about to die, might as well, and then his psychometry activated.

He saw Fox in the Chancellor’s office, heard Palpatine instruct him that Quinlan was a traitor, and could sense Fox’s immediate obedience as unnatural. This wasn’t Fox’s fault, it wasn’t really him saying these things--Fox held cold metal to Quinlan’s back, and he knew it was his lightsaber.

“I see him, it’s okay, Fox--” Quinlan was cut off by a burning feeling in his chest and he crumpled to the ground, arms still around Fox. “I love you,” he said, with what little strength he had left.

And as the darkness invaded, he heard Fox’s response: “I love you too.”

~*~

Fox heard Quinlan blurt out, “I see him, It’s okay,” as they fell to the ground entangled in one another.

He felt a final moment of clarity, realizing all that had happened, and with a final act of strength, reached into his belt.

“I love you,” Quin breathed out, barely a whisper next to him.

Fox felt himself crying for the first time as he pulled out the detonator. “I love you too,” he murmured, and pressed it.

~*~

All the Jedi were very surprised when they felt a large and immediate shift in the force that day. Even more when they were informed that the Chancellor’s office had been blown up, and he along with it.

An investigation showed GAR bombs as the source, and when Commander Fox of the Coruscant guard was found with his thumb over a detonator, it wasn’t hard to figure out the culprit.

As to why he was lying dead next to the Jedi everyone had observed he was so close with, no one knew-- but the fact of the matter was, the Chancellor had been the Sith, and Fox had been the one to kill him. And he and Quinlan were dead, a lightsaber through the heart, likely the lightsaber that lay some inches from Fox’s hand not holding the detonator.

No, they didn’t know exactly what happened. But the easiest thing, the best thing, to assume was that they were the noble heroes of the republic. The war inched on anyway, but the Republic prevailed in the end, under Chancellor Bail Organa, who immediately gave up his emergency powers after the war. The chips were discovered and the Jedi survived.

It was a happy ending.

BONUS ENDING:

Fox had to avoid the Sith until Quinlan returned.

He considered this for a moment, considered waiting, then pushed the button and threw the detonator out the window. Not worth the risk. The war ended and Fox and Quinlan lived happily ever after in love and their first kiss was a triumphant culmination of all their emotions about the war ending and not them crying and dying. The End :)

#wrote this in one day be proud of me #vox #quinlan vos #commander fox #foxquin #foxquinweek2023 #tw suicide #tw death #tw major character death #tw depression #tw suicidal thoughts #tw mental health #this is a fucked up fic #it's ok tho i didn't cry at all

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aeligsido · 2 years

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nothing you confess (could make me love you less)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex (mentioned), Anakin Skywalker (mentioned), Padmé Amidala (mentioned), Sheev Palpatine (mentioned) Additional Tags: Minor Character Death, in the past, and it's Palpatine so who cares, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Padmé Amidala Lives, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Emperor CC-2224 | Cody, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), the clones are dechiped, Good for them, Rex Anakin and Padmé are in a Queer Platonic Relationship, does it shows? no. will i tell it anyway? yes., Massage, it's going to turn spicy but then there's fade to black oops, there's really only kissing on page lmao, Established CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, when you wake up from a medically induced coma and suddenly your bf is an Emperor, just a normal day in Obi-Wan's life, no beta we die like the Republic Series: Part 3 of CodyWan Kiss Bingo Challenge 2022 Summary:

"Order 66 had been a disaster. Not that Obi-Wan had been awake to see it — he was then too busy being sedated by his own medic and “taking a well-deserved nap”, as Pearl had put it. And when his men had deemed it safe to wake him up from his unwanted medical coma, it had been too late to stop the Vode from taking over the Empire Palpatine had constructed right under their noses.

At least, they all agreed about the fact that a dead Palpatine was miles better than an alive one."

OR: Obi-Wan has a few questions for his boyfriend, ex-Commander turned Emperor of the Galaxy, Cody.

For the prompt “kiss on the stomach” for @codywankissbingo!

Obi-Wan would prefer if things were terrible.

If it had been the case, then he could have at least hated the situation properly.

As it was, though — well. Things weren’t perfect. But it still was way better than the war, and somehow, they — the Jedi — were treated better than under the Senate and the Republic. Not that Jedi were Jedi to be well treated or anything, but things had gotten worse and worse with time. They hadn’t been as respected as they were at the beginning of the Republic, eons ago, and they could barely sneeze without the Senate’s approval.

But now — well, they never doubted the loyalty of the Vode before, and they definitely couldn’t start now.

Order 66 had been a disaster. Not that Obi-Wan had been awake to see it — he was then too busy being sedated by his own medic and “taking a well-deserved nap”, as Pearl had put it. And when his men had deemed it safe to wake him up from his unwanted medical coma, it had been too late to stop the Vode from taking over the Empire Palpatine had constructed right under their noses.

At least, they all agreed about the fact that a dead Palpatine was miles better than an alive one.

Except Anakin, but he was slowly coming around, and besides, he was too busy with his children to really protest. The last time Obi-Wan visited them, Rex had assured him that he and his best men were taking good care of all of them — Anakin, Padmé, Ahsoka, and the twins. Considering Leia had been strapped to his chest then, her head carefully held by the now-Commander, and that Jesse and Ahsoka had been playing with Luke behind them, Obi-Wan was more than willing to believe Rex. They all needed the rest, anyway.

Obi-Wan sighed contently as the hands massaging his back went over one particular hard knot. A kiss was dropped on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes.

Cody had always looked at him with something soft in his eyes, but the utter devotion he showed now was at the same time surprising and kind of terrifying. Obi-Wan didn’t know how to react to it. He wasn’t used to it, simply, maybe. Obi-Wan had known Cody loved him before everything; of course he did! They were dating! But he somehow missed the depth of this love and how far Cody was willing to go for him.

“Everything’s alright, cyare?”

Obi-Wan hummed. “I was just thinking.”

Cody’s thumb caressed his neck, and Obi-Wan felt himself shudder under the touch. “Do you want to share?” he offered, gaze still on him, always on him.

[Read more on AO3.]

#writing #my writing #fic #my fic #star wars #codywan #tcw #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #emperor cody #which is sexy of him #lmao #love this au honestly

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 years

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How do you think a sort of Chosen One swap would go between Anakin Skywalker and Harry Potter? Like, say at the end of Harry’s life, he is reborn as Anakin and vice-versa. Neither have access to the magic from their home setting, but otherwise retain their personalities and memories. Who do you think would fare better in their new life? Would it be a massive trainwreck for both?

I enjoy how you straight up ask me for two fics here, anon.

As for the answer, not well for either.

Harry Potter is Reborn as Anakin Skywalker

I'm going to go on a limb here and guess that Harry doesn't turn into a well-adjusted adult for all that he might become a productive member of society post canon.

Well, he just got reborn into brutal slavery where, only by luck, were he and his single mother not sold back to the Hutts.

Harry is bitter and angry and feels very impotent without his magic. He seems to have some magic, admittedly more than he had in his original timeline (being able to move shit around with his mind), but he also has no wand and appears to have been born in an alternate reality/some far flung future where wizards don't even appear to exist.

So, you have a really really really angry Anakin Skywalker.

I imagine he falls to the dark side long before Qui-Gon and company can land on Tatooine. Giving into his overpowering rage is what Harry does, consistently, and he's not going to realize the dangers of this here anymore than he did in his own universe.

Fueled by Anakin's power I imagine he slaughters the Hutts and just about anyone else who crosses his path. With the dark side of the Force he descends into madness and paranoia and becomes a walking, untempered, plague upon Tatooine.

I imagine Palpatine catches wind of him before the Jedi do and either murders Harrykin himeslf for being too much of a liability or grooms him into the position of apprentice (which I imagine he could do quite well as Dumbledore succeeded in this and Dumbledore isn't half the terrifying manipulator that Sheev Palpatine is).

Should Harry survive his apprenticeship, I imagine Palpatine unleashes him on the Jedi Order. As Harrykin likely never meets Padme, he never has children, which means no Luke and Leia so when the empire does come to fruition there's really nothing to motivate Harrykin to throw Palpatine out a window.

The galaxy burns.

Anakin is Reborn as Harry Potter

Anakin has a second chance at life and he's horrified. Here he'd finally killed himself and the emperor, ended his miserable existence to save his son, and now he's back. As a baby.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Whatever second chance this is, he'll inevitably ruin it, as he does with everything in his life. Anakin is a very miserable baby who does his best to make his poor new parents equally miserable for having the misfortune of bringing him into this world.

Not to mention he appears to be sort of, kind of, cut off from the Force. Anakin, who is mostly comprised of the Force, undoubtedly feels weird, off-kilter, and like he has a gaping hole in his brain. This, this isn't right, something is terribly terribly wrong here.

He then gets to watch the tragedy of his new, terribly young, parent's betrayal and murder. It's like watching himself and Padme all over again, he sees himself in the unthinking arrogance of James Potter and so much of Padme in the shit Lily has to put up with.

Depending how much control Anakin gets over his new Not-Force, he may be able to save himself and Lily when the time comes, which leads him down a timeline where Lily desperately tries to protect her son both from Voldemort and Dumbledore's machinations (perhaps with more success as Anakin has been through this song and dance before and is a grown man stuffed into a child's body).

Otherwise, she dies, Anakin feels horrifically guilty over the death of his new, terribly young, parents and he's sent to live with the Dursleys where a very large part of him believes he deserves the shoddy treatment. For he is the worst thing to crawl upon this Earth.

This Anakin is then picked up by Hagrid and it's deja vu and he's right back to when Qui-Gon offered him a place in the Jedi Order. It's official, Anakin is in Hell. It turns out to be worse than Hell (or better) as there's no Obi-Wan equivalent, Anakin keeps finding himself searching for him but can't seem to find him. Instead, Anakin quickly realizes Dumbledore's trying to play him, continues to be absolutely miserable, and does his best not to make friends with anyone. He's successful in this.

Anakin likely does everything in his power not to confront Tom Riddle. It's not his business, this isn't Sheev Palpatine who came to power in part because of Anakin, and is not a man actively threatening his children. There will always be men like Tom Riddle and it is not Anakin's responsibility to murder them because these people are too lazy to do it themselves.

Anakin watches the world burn with a margarita in hand.

Who Fares Better?

They're both winners.

Though I'd say Anakin, while he already lost his mind in his previous life he's at least not a walking husk fueled only by rage.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #star wars #star wars meta #star wars headcanon #anti harry potter #anakin skywalker #darth vader #meta #headcanon #opinion

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sonoftatooine · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021

DAY 7: 'MY SPIDEY-SENSE IS TINGLING' - BLINDNESS

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, R2-D2, Sheev Palpatine.

Summary: After getting injured on the front lines of the war, Anakin loses his sight. Distraught, he turns to his wife for comfort.

***

Coruscant, Anakin thought, seemed so much louder now that he had lost his sight. The sound of roaring speeders and honking horns that persisted unrelentingly through night and day, the thrum and press of a trillion people going about their business that had once so intimidated and overwhelmed him when he had first landed on the great city planet after a life on backwater Tatooine deafening in his mind as well as his ears. He couldn't help but feel like that little boy once again as he whizzed through the lanes of traffic, allowing Artoo to drive the Temple's borrowed speeder in...well, what he supposed was the direction of the Senate Apartment Complex. Everything was so intense now, too intense. The wind that whipped at his hair as they drove seemed not breathlessly invigorating as it once had, but biting, violent and cold. Noises came and went leaving behind only the faintest impression of where they had been. And the Force, oh kriffing hells, the Force was loud. It echoed with a trillion different thoughts, a trillion different feelings and desires, and no matter how well he shielded, he could not quite quiet his senses enough to keep them at bay.

The Force had been loud in the Temple too. It had been loud when he had awoken in a soft bed to utter darkness and the memory of a too-close explosion and a blinding white flash followed by a searing hot pain before his world had turned black. It had been loud when Vokara Che had said to him in the softest tones that she didn't know yet whether his loss of sight would be temporary or permanent, but that she was holding out hope for the former. Her sadness and worry in the Force had practically screamed at him, even though in reality he knew that it was probably little more than a whisper. It was bright too. Bright specks of life dotted everywhere around him—younglings and padawans, knights and masters. With the unrelenting darkness of his vision, it reminded him a little of the long nights on Tatooine when the planet's three moons were hidden, and all that there was to light the vast expanse of land below were the hundreds of tiny, far off stars that he had once dreamed of visiting. When he was very small, he had been afraid of those nights, and his mother had held him to his chest and told him not to be scared, for that very darkness served to shroud them from the sight of their masters, and he had always felt a little better once the suns came up the next day.

But his mother was dead, and this darkness no longer held the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel.

The Chancellor had visited him in the Halls of Healing whilst he was there recovering from the other injuries he had received from the explosion. Which was not entirely proper and clearly reeked of attachment to Master Yoda, who had been radiating resigned disapproval as he led the old man to his bedside with a clipped announcement of “come to see you, His Excellency has, young Skywalker”, and had promptly left without another word. Palpatine had felt...strange in the Force—like an emptiness, a cavity, or a deep crack in a rock where something particularly foul and slimy lived. Which was, of course, ridiculous. Chancellor Palpatine was one of the kindest people he knew—always looking out for him, always ready to lend a sympathetic ear no matter how trivial his concerns—and hardly deserved to be treated like some monster out to get him just because Anakin was worrying about the loss of his sight and was likely misinterpreting the sensations he felt in the Force because of it. What was even more ridiculous was that, when the man reached out to give him one of his customary gentle pats on the shoulder, he had had to violently suppress the urge to rear back in alarm as a sudden sense of danger shot through him with all the burning power of a blaster bolt. It was nonsensical, but he had, out of nowhere, felt very much like what he imagined sitting prey feels as a hunting hawk-bat swoops in for the kill.

“It saddens me to see you in this state, my boy,” the old man had said, giving him one, two, three pats on the shoulder before withdrawing his hand. “Does Master Che believe it will be permanent?”

“She says that it's too early to say, sir,” Anakin had replied, wetting his lips with his tongue as he fought down the irrational urge to bolt. “But she's trying. It's not— I'll be able to see again.”

“That's the spirit, Anakin. And I'm sure it behoves the Jedi to make sure you are fully healed. They wouldn't want to lose their best General, after all. Who would fight their war for them then?”

The last part, Anakin thought, had been intended to be as light and bolstering as the rest of his words, but there had been something in his tone, something that hinted at a private quarrel that had not entirely been meant for his ears. There were growing tensions between the Chancellor and the Jedi Council, he knew—ones that had been worsening with each day that the war dragged on—but still... But still... It didn't seem right somehow, like his feelings in the Force didn't quite match the ones he was trying to express, nor even the ones he was trying to disguise for his young friend's benefit. All in all, it had been a strange and confusing visit, and by the time Palpatine had returned to the Senate Dome, he had been left feeling muddled and drained.

He hadn't, however, had time to ponder over the oddness surrounding his benign old mentor's odd Force signature that, really, he must have been imagining, for the Chancellor's words, though meant kindly, had done little but bring one of his primary fears that had been plaguing him since he had woken up in the Halls of Healing to the forefront of his mind. He knew, logically, that this was not Tatooine, that he would not be considered less valuable for having sustained permanent...damages—the Jedi had healed him after he had lost his arm, after all, given him a prosthetic that meant he could still fight—but...well, he wasn't good at much about being a Jedi, but he was good at war, and an arm was one thing, but his sight— He couldn't deny that the Council had only accepted him into the Order because of his usefulness—his destiny to destroy the Sith, and because he had proven himself by taking out the droid command centre when the Trade Federation attacked Naboo. And that wasn't even taking into account what would happen to his men if he couldn't fight, what would happen to Ahsoka—

Except—he still forgot sometimes, and each time he remembered again it was like a shard of ice through his heart—Ahsoka had been gone for over a month now. Well, there was one silver lining, at least. His padawan...former padawan wouldn't have to face the consequences of this. She wouldn't even have to know, considering the last time they had spoken had been on the steps of the Jedi Temple the day she'd left.

Anakin scowled at the memory, running a hand over his face. He didn't want to think of that now. It was too big, too overwhelming, too— Artoo beeped at him, and he suddenly realised that the sting of the wind that had been whipping at his face as they sped to their destination had faded away to a light breeze, the roaring in his ears replaced by a distant hum of traffic that, however far away, still sounded far too loud. The speeder must have stopped. Swallowing thickly, he reached out with the Force, trying to wade through the jumble of a trillion different feelings from a trillion different people reverberating around him at once, and felt the brush of a familiar, warm presence against his mind.

Padmé.

He heard a whir and a noise like a spring uncoiling that he recognised as the sound of Artoo launching himself out of the speeder and onto the landing platform of Padmé's apartment (it must be Padmé's apartment; he could feel her here, a bright—brighter than usual—presence in a mire of darkness). Another whirring sound, motorised treads trundling closer. It stopped, somewhere below him, to his right. An enquiring whistle.

<Unit: Anakin-Skywalker. Query: Need assistance?>

Anakin shook his head. Artoo had helped him through the hangar bay back when he was leaving the Temple, whizzing underneath his hand and, before he had even had the chance to ask him what he was doing, let alone protest, had started leading him carefully to his speeder past the many obstacles scattered in his way, claw arm tangled in the voluminous sleeve of his Jedi robe. Though he had not liked it, Anakin had had to admit that it had been necessary. As familiar as the hangar bay was to him, ships, people and engineering tools alike had a habit of moving around and ending up in places where they were least expected in ways that walls and tables generally didn't. Strictly speaking, he should have been able to do it anyway—Jedi didn't actually need to see to sense things—but it turned out that total blindness was not like deflecting training bolts with an opaque visor over your eyes. Not when you couldn't just finish the exercise and let your sight come flooding back to you the moment you were done.

But then, nothing about his padawan days had truly trained him for the consequences of this war.

"I'm alright, Artoo" he said, because that was what he always said, and it was what he was determined to be. This wasn't a crowded hangar with obstacle after obstacle to overcome. This was Padmé's apartment. He knew it well—or at least, as well as one could when they were trying to conduct a secret marriage and a vicious war at the same time. But even if he hadn't been there as often as he would have liked (everyday, every night, he would be with her if he could, but he couldn't until the war was over and he knew that everyone he loved would be safe), he knew it well enough to have a good idea of where everything was. It would be alright. He could do this.

<Negative> Artoo beeped at him, but he ignored the little droid's protest. He could get out of a speeder and walk the length of a kriffing room. He just needed to figure out— If Artoo was there, based off the vague direction in which his beeps and whistles were coming from, and the edge of the speeder—he felt along it tentatively—was there... He hoisted himself up, swinging over the side of the speeder, searching cautiously in the darkness—too dark, too dark, like he was trapped in a pitch black cave with a bottomless chasm yawning beneath him—for solid ground with one foot. He found it and, with no small amount of relief, planted the other one alongside it. He did not let go of the speeder.

"See?," he said, trying to force down the tremor in his voice. "I'm fine."

He could do it. He could. All he had to do was let go, turn around, and start walking. He should be able to do it, shouldn't have any problem with peeling his hands away from where they had glued themselves to the lifeline that kept him from floundering in the dark. He was a Jedi, he mustn't let himself be ruled by his fear like this. He had faced worse and prevailed. He could— He should—

But the darkness and the noise was threatening to swallow him whole. He was drowning beneath the weight of it, beneath all the worries and fears of Coruscant tangling with his own. The shadow of the war that was coming closer to them with each day that passed. The shadow that had consumed him, the blow that the war had already struck him after so long fighting. His grip tightened on the edge of the speeder, refusing to let go.

<Negative> Artoo beeped at him again. Anakin heard him trundle forward. Felt the whisper of fabric against his leg as he brushed lightly against the edge of his outer robe, coming to a stop beside him. <Statement: I calculate that your processors are malfunctioning. You are full of bantha poodoo>

Anakin sputtered, startled almost into an entirely inappropriate laugh. Strangely, he felt the edge of panic that he was teetering fall away, just a little.

"There's nothing wrong with my processors," he groused. With an effort, he finally managed to unstick himself from the side of the speeder. As he pushed himself away, he was abruptly overcome by a sensation of being surrounded on all sides by a dizzyingly sharp drop, even though he knew there was solid ground beneath him. He froze. "It's my photoreceptors that are the problem," he muttered under his breath, though he knew Artoo's sensors would pick his words up no matter how quietly he spoke.

And unlike you, I can't just go to a mechanic and get them fixed when they don't work, he thought bitterly. Artoo let out a sympathetic little "woo", his claw arm extending out to snag in his sleeve as he had in the Temple.

<Statement> he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. <Unit: Anakin-Skywalker. Need assistance>

"Artoo..."

But there wasn't anything he could say. No argument to contradict him. No matter what he wanted, the fear of that absolute darkness was starting to eat away at his heart, gluing his feet to the ground. He wanted to deny it, to release it into the Force as all good Jedi should. But he had never been a good Jedi, and he doubted that he was going to find some as yet undiscovered well of calm within himself just because he had lost his sight—especially because he had lost his sight. But even if he couldn't trust himself anymore, he could trust Artoo. Had always trusted him, and he had never yet let him down. Slowly, he searched for the little astromech with the tips of his fingers, letting his palm rest flat on top of his dome. Drawing in several deep breaths, he grounded himself in the feel of little motors whirring and buzzing underneath his hand. With a painstaking effort, he started to filter the storm of conflicting sensations in the Force from his mind. He was calm. He was calm. He could do this.

And if he kept telling himself that often enough, he might just believe it.

The first steps he took were faltering, uncertain, even with Artoo to guide him. The further he went into the apartment, the less his sense of the Force was consumed by the people of Coruscant and more by his sense of her. She was so bright—felt brighter than normal, even though he knew that was just his impressions in the Force compensating for the loss of his sight. Bright enough, as realisation flared throughout her signature, jumbled in amongst so many other feelings that he couldn't hope to entangle them all, that he was almost dazed for a moment with the force of it. Blinking rapidly despite the fact that he knew it would no more clear his Force senses than it would return his sight to him, Anakin focused on the feel of her, the flurry of movement as she moved from somewhere—he thought—ahead and to the right of him, getting closer and closer. Faintly, he began to hear light, dainty footsteps coming towards him from what he presumed was the entrance to the landing platform from the rest of the apartment. He froze, aware all of a sudden that he was trembling, though with what emotion he didn't know.

"Ani..."

Padmé's voice was soft and gentle, but he could sense an urgency in her, a need to see that he was alright, that he wasn't—

"Angel" he whispered through his suddenly constricting throat, his breath caught as surely as if there were a hand squeezing about his neck.

“Ani!” He felt her Force presence dash towards him like a lantern in the dark, all worry and sadness and an overwhelming sense of love. “Ani, oh Ani. I heard what happened. Are you alright? Are you—?”

“I'm alright,” Anakin interrupted her. If he had let her continue, he might well have broken down in tears there and then under the pure force of the fierce, concerned affection that she was pouring into his mind. “It's— I'm alright.”

If you say that enough times, remarked a small, snide voice in the back of his mind which bore a faint resemblance to Obi-Wan at his most scathing, you'll get stuck, like a broken holorecording. It'll be the only thing you'll be able to say. It wasn't as if anybody believed him when he said it anyway, and Padmé was certainly no exception. He felt her sadness and worry spike sharply in the Force at his words. With barely a flutter of warning, her hands were in his hair, fingers running along his scalp in motions just a little too far on the side of frantic to be called gentle. It was a familiar feeling—she did it whenever he came back to her from a particularly gruelling campaign, wanting, needing to know that he was there with her, safe and sound and in one piece—but without his sight, the sudden intensity of it made him gasp aloud.

“Anakin...” Her hands withdrew from him abruptly, apologetically, misinterpreting the sound as a desire for her to stop. He ached at the loss, leaning towards her unusually bright Force presence like a flower seeking the light of the sun.

That was exactly what she was—a sun that had opened up her arms to him and folded him into the warmth of her embrace.

"Padmé" he pleaded.

He wished he could ask for more, but he could not find the words. He did not need to. A flash of realisation in the Force, and then her fingers were back, twining in his hair. He relaxed ever so slightly into her touch. For the first time since he had woken up to absolute darkness in the Halls of Healing, he almost felt safe.

"Can we go inside?," he asked. "It's cold out here."

He was always cold on Coruscant, even though he had become less aware of it the more time passed since he had left Tatooine. Now, he felt chilled to the bones, deep in his heart. He wanted the warmth of her embrace to chase it away, wanted the security of their home, away from the unwelcome eyes of the Jedi, the Senate, the whole damned planet. But he didn't need to explain any of this to her. He could feel that she understood.

He heard Artoo trundle away in search of Threepio as Padmé slipped her arm through his own and began to guide him inside with care. He held onto her with both hands, trying not to cling too hard, lest his mechanical grip hurt her. Together, they made their way through the apartment—fumbling occasionally round an odd-shaped piece of furniture or over a tricky step—until they reached a set of stairs and a small corridor that he recognised vaguely as leading to their bedroom. Sure enough, the stairs successfully—if awkwardly—traversed, she felt her lead him down to her large, comfortable bed, encouraging him to sit down. He fairly collapsed down onto the mattress, relieved to have reached his destination without the risk of any unseen obstacles to worry about. Safe. He was safe here.

A waft of Padmé's flowery perfume tickled at his nose as she leaned down to press a whispering kiss to his forehead. He went to chase after the touch, but she was already drawing away. The blinked, confused at the loss, until he felt the brush of her fingers against his calf, at the top of his boot. She pulled off one, and then the other, and then she went for his utility belt, coaxing him out of his Jedi robes and into his bed clothes. If it had been anyone else, he might have protested—or at least have been inclined to be embarrassed—but this was Padmé. His beloved wife, whom he adored with all his heart. And so he gave himself over to the calming sensations around him. The smooth silk of the dark sleep robe she had bought him when they had first married on his skin as she helped him slip it on. The reassuring dip in the mattress as she drew back and came to sit beside him on the bed. The soft whisper of her breath in his ear and he waited for her to speak.

And oh, how she wanted to speak. He could feel it in the Force. As much as he wished it weren't so, that little moment of calm was nothing but an illusion.

“Is it—?” He felt her hand come up to his face, fingertips ghosting above his right cheek, just where the tip of his scar trailed past his eye. It tingled under her touch. “Do you know if...do you know if you'll get your sight back?”

“Master Che says she hopes it will be temporary, but it's too early to say,” Anakin replied. Anybody else, and he might have wished his voice hadn't sounded quite so small and afraid, but Padmé who had seen the worst and the best of him and everything in-between, and had stuck beside him for all of it. “I'm grounded on Coruscant until we know for sure. Obi-Wan's taken over my campaigns until...”

His voice trailed off, as if his words had dried up like a puddle of water beneath the suns of Tatooine. Until what? Until he was healed? Until they confirmed his sight was permanently gone?The whispering in his head hissed at him that he had piled a whole new burden on his already overwrought master, that this latest in a long line of injuries had left Obi-Wan and his men on their own amid the most violent battles of the war to be harmed or killed because Anakin wasn't there by their side and may never be by their side again—

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, he was hit by an odd flare of jumbled emotions from Padmé. Worry for him. Relief that he was here with her, and not out fighting in the Outer Rim where he could be hurt even worse than he had already been. Concern for Obi-Wan, who was still out there. And above it all, that fierce determination that he had always loved her for—determination that everything would be alright and damn the Galaxy if it had anything to say to the contrary.

“It will be temporary,” she insisted, squeezing both of his hands in hers. He could easily imagine the expression on her face, resolute as it was loving, soft as it was strong. Would he ever see her face again, or would he have to rely on his memories of her features for the rest of his life? “I'm sure. It will get better. But if it doesn't...even if it doesn't, it won't change things. It won't stop you. We'll make sure that it doesn't.”

Despite the slight falter in her voice, so resolute was she that , for a moment, he could almost have believed her words. But this time, no matter how bright her presence was, it wasn't quite enough to burn away the dark thoughts in his mind as it had the blackness in his vision. Throat bobbing convulsively as he swallowed, Anakin shook his head.

“Won't it?,” he said. He forced himself to keep his voice flat, toneless, for if he had allowed the maelstrom of emotion in his chest to seep into his words, he wouldn't have been able to speak them at all. It sounded wrong to his ears, like one of those karking tactical droids the Separatists used. “If it is... We haven't talked at the Temple about what will happen if it is permanent yet but...how can I fight? If I can't see— I'll have to relearn everything. Everything I trained for and how long will that take? My men—”

He cut himself off abruptly, feeling a sob threatening to rise in his chest at the thought of Rex and the 501st, of the pilots he had led into battle time and again, of Obi-Wan. How could he stand by as they went to war without him, not knowing if they would ever come back, forever wondering if they would die and it would be his fault because he had stupidly got himself seriously injured on the front lines and he wasn't there—?

Unbidden, tears sprang to his eyes. He clenched his jaw and refused to let them fall.

“I can't see anything,” he whispered hoarsely, a tremor breaking through his flat tone as he tried hard not to cry. He focused with all his might on the feel of her small hands in his, as if it could distract him from his fear. “I can't even see your face. What if I can't ever see you again?”

“Anakin...” He could feel the sadness in her Force presence, her need to hold him close. Her fingers were in his hair once more, combing gently through his curls. The scrape of her nails over his scalp again so very intense without his sight, he couldn't help but tremble under her touch. “The war doesn't define you. Fighting doesn't define you. But Ani, you're the strongest man I know. If it is—if it is permanent, I have every faith that you will find a way. We will find a way. Together."

She made it sound so simple. He wished it was—oh, how he wished it was, but— His tears stung painfully in his eyes, a strange echo of the burning flash that had seared his sight away. Even if he had tried, he could not have stopped the quiet, wounded little noise that escaped his throat. Padmé shushed him gently, stroking his hair in slow, soothing motions that he did his best to anchor himself in. He needed her, needed her touch, her love, the only thing that could chase away the darkness that his world had transformed into—

His wife, he could feel through the Force, was more than happy to oblige.

“And as for me...” She pulled him down so that their foreheads were pressed together. Anakin's eyes closed tight shut. If he kept them closed, he could pretend that nothing had changed, that the world would not be just as dark with them open. “Even if you can't see me, you can still hear me.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You can still feel me.” Another kiss. “I'm here, Ani. I will always be here.”

Her presence was burning with love, overwhelming him with affection. She was so close—the softness of her lips, the gentleness of her touch. His breath hitched as, finally, the tears trapped behind his lids started to fall. He cried and cried and cried. Cried until he thought he would run out of tears, but they just kept coming, refusing to stop. Padmé's arms snaked around him, holding him tight against her, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, weeping uncontrollably into her soft hair.

"Padmé," he gasped. "Padmé."

"Ssh, my love." He felt her shift slightly, the soft pressure of her lips as she pressed a kiss into his wild hair. "It's alright. Everything will be alright."

He cried until exhaustion overcame him, letting her soft reassurances wash over him like a lullaby. Perhaps she was right, he thought as sleep threatened to catch him in its grip. Perhaps, in the end, it would be alright.

"Padmé..." he whispered again. He wondered, faintly, if most of his words had left him along with his sight, for her name suddenly seemed to be the only thing that could escape his lips. Nestled in her warm embrace, surrounded by her, enveloped by her, his entire world had narrowed down to his sense of her, to the lifeline she'd thrown him that his eyes were no longer able to provide.

"Rest, Anakin," she murmured in his ear. He shivered as the soft puffs of air from her lips tickled against sensitive skin. "I will stay with you. I'll be here with you when you wake."

The truth of her words shone bright and gentle in the Force. Yes, Anakin thought as his mind quietened and he allowed himself to succumb to a darkness entirely different to the one that had taken his sight. Yes, it would be alright. As long as Padmé was by his side, it would always be alright.

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years

Text

Sith obi wan on Mortis

wow we really love mortis huh.

So let’s be honest. We deserve seeing sith obi wan on mortis. Like with ahsoka, but obi wan. It’d go like this:

Shows and explores the dark side of a famously light character

But no repercussions in canon cause it’s mortis so you can do pretty much whatever you want with it

Obi wan is just so light, that to have him be sith would be so cool and he’d make it matter to his relationship(s) w anakin and ahsoka

Also dark side obi wan could be vv scary cause he’s so powerful

Obi wan says a lot of things

“I am on the council, a 3rd of the entire GAR, i am a jedi master, but do i get any respect? No! Not from you (anakin), not from the senate, not from the chancellor! I know everything, anakin.”

This is how he reveals that he knows about anakin and padme’s marriage/relationship (your choice on how much he knows)

Explores any resentment real or otherwise that he has towards anakin

But no anakin bashing please because we love our trash son

Being all sithly/darkside makes him say stuff just to hurt anakin

“You didn’t mean that… right?” cause anakin would definitely take that shit to heart

Obi wan saying that he thought anakin and padme were his friends, but i guess they don’t hold him in the same regard that he does them (by not trusting him- like he says they trust palpatine more than they trust him)

Any resentment leftover from phantom menace comes up (obi wan having to prove to qui gon he could be a good padawan yet the minute anakin showed up he gets tossed aside pretty much)

Obi wan talking about how he cleans up anakin’s messes with the senate, the council, etc and anakin still doesn’t trust him

Obi wan remembers the shit he said afterwards and apologizing to anakin and they hug and have a heart to heart (about trust, the code, attachments, anakin and padme's marriage, the whole shebang)

We get an “i love you anakin” during this exchange that doesn’t come from mustafar because we deserve that

Anakin takes everything obi wan said to heart because it’s obi wan and he admires him so much

Because hearing all this from your younger sister type (ahsoka) is VERY different from hearing it from your older brother / father figure / teacher who practically raised you and taught you everything you know

Sith obi wan action scene, anakin on defense and obi wan on offense

Obi wan using ataru and doing all the flippy stuff from his padawan days

This is much more dangerous and anakin is probably struggling (because obi wan is powerful as hell and anakin doesn’t want to hurt him)

This is different from the duel in canon against ahsoka, and it is much more dangerous because it’s against obi wan taught both anakin and ahsoka. Anakin is fighting for his life here, but he can’t hurt him / fight back because it’s obi wan (but it’s not obi wan)

Obi wan cuts off anakin’s mechanical hand before he can be subdued

Obi wan comes back to the light on his own because he sees himself trying to kill anakin and/or ahsoka and he beats the darkness in himself

Or; alternately: a similar scene to in canon, where the son sorta just,,,murders him and anakin has to bring him back via the daughter’s life force (making obi-wan the one who has a connection w/morai now, instead of ahsoka)

Or, alternately: Anakin uses the mortis force like he did to the son and daughter

Also I’m pretty sure we said this was a fixit, so no Anakin falling to the dark side later on, although defeating sidious prior order 66 is optional

Yeah definitely a fix it, because he has that talk with obi wan so they’re good now (shady sheev can’t beat the power of friendship™)

Hell yeah

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Chapter 11

Characters: Fox/Mouse (reader), appearances from Hound, Thire, Rule, Mace Windu, Yoda, and Padmé Amidala.

Warning: angst (y’all want me to hirt you right?)

A/N: so get ready to read nearly 6000 words of Fox’s self loathing, the CG being supportive vod, Jedi being Jedi, and Mouse being hurt yet again.

Current

The choices had been fresh ink or gut-rot barracks hooch. Fox chose the ink.

He’s down in the levels, he can’t remember which one exactly, far enough from prying eyes and questioning vod, that was all that had really mattered. The artist, a pantoran with a nice portfolio, was busy laying out the design. He can feel the cool transfer as it’s pressed over his heart and he drags in a ragged breath. This was penance. This was the closure he needed. He’d messed up. For two weeks he’d messed up and now any chance he had was gone along with her.

“You wanna talk about it, man?” The tattoo artist asks as he peels away the flimsy leaving the outline on his skin.

“No”

Two weeks earlier

Fox hates the sterile smell of the hospital, the beige walls, the gleaming metal all around. It reminds him of Kamino and a medbay he’d spent more than enough time in. He was never quite as strong or quite as fast as the other CCs in his batch, men that would go on to bear monikers like Gree and Bly and Wolffe. He made up for it in other ways. His mind was sharp, quick to come to a plan of action, he could think on his feet.

He remembers Sargent Kal coming into the CC classroom one day for a talk on urban combat- something that had piqued CC-1010’s interest from the word go- and how by the end of the lesson he’d ended up the star of the day. His observations as they’d talked through scenarios had left Kal remarking that he was “Sly as a Fox” and that the Triple Zero would be a good place for the likes of him. He was only the second in his batch to earn a name and he wore it around like a badge of honor.

Now he didn’t feel so honorable or so sly. He felt a lot of other things though. The psych droid, a loathsome device of he'd ever seen one, had talked him through what had happened in the Supreme Chancellor’s suite. It had questioned him over and over, maybe expecting the answers to change, about what his part in the assassination of Sheev Palpatine had been. He was tired. He wanted to wrap himself around his cyar’ika and pretend the whole day had been a nightmare.

That was impossible, she was somewhere else in the hospital being treated, shoved into a bacta tank. It had only been Rex’s firm voice that had convinced Fox to let the medic’s anywhere near her. When he’d let them take her limp body away from him-

Fierfek.

The handprint- a bloody partial across the left side of his breastplate, was still there.

“Commander Fox” a familiar voice cuts through the silent world of the room“ Much to think about you have“

He recognizes the Jedi Master, Yoda, immediately. There was no one else the ancient green Jedi could be mistaken for.

“I prefer to not“ being around a force wielder was not high on Fox’s current list of things to do.

“Such Is life”

“With all due respect sir,” he can hear the petulance in his own voice but he has neither the energy nor will to rein it in “I didn’t ask for this life.”

“But given to you it was, nonetheless. Choices you must make with what to do with it.“

Fox is quiet and the small Jedi Master matches it until the door opens again and General Windu joins the pair. Fox meets his gaze and the Jedi nods solemnly.

“Much discussion Master Windu and I have had these last few hours-“

“So it’s back to Kamino then? Reconditioning or Termination?” Fox can’t hide the bitterness in his voice. He doesn’t want to. He wants the world -or at least the two Jedi in the room- to see his pain. To feel it like he was.

Yoda sighs and moves to him, walking stick clicking in time with his steps. He hops up on the cold metal table next to Fox in a way that makes Fox think that the walking stick was not really necessary. He fights the urge to move away.

“A great disservice has been done to you, Commander. No, Kamino is not where you belong, deserve punishment you do not.”

The words burn. Fox is trapped between relief and a slow simmering rage, one that demands he be punished for his inability to protect those most vulnerable. First Fives. Now Mouse. He failed because he was weak-

“Stop” General Windu’s voice is firm. The look on Fox’s face must read pure terror because the Jedi huffs softly, “I don’t need to see inside your head to know what you're thinking. It’s all over your face. Do you know the kind of power Sidious possessed? To fight off that kind of insinuation would have been nearly impossible and that was before the chip-“

“The chip?” Fox attempts to rise to his feet but three green fingers press down on his arm. He looks down at the tired, ancient face of the Jedi Master and sits back down. “What of the chip? What has it got to do in all of this?”

The answer is simple. Everything.

Fox sits in cold shock as the Jedi describe to him what they’d learned of Palpatine’s- no, Sidious’ plans for the clone army. He stops them once to go to the bathroom and vomit. It wasn’t just Tup and Fives and him. It was all his vode. The entire clone army programmed to turn on their leaders, their friends with the utterance of a single phrase. He thinks of the hints Bly had made about his Jedi when they’d last spoken.

For a moment it’s more than he can fathom, and he holds a hand up for quiet. The Jedi allow it. He gives himself a minute, just one, before he pulls himself together, before he sits up straight and pushes the anguish, hurt, and the dirty feelings deep down.

“What now?” The implications of what has happened are finally becoming clear “The Republic can’t know the truth. There’ll be chaos in the streets. They’ll turn against the clones entirely” Fox worries more for his brothers than ever before. If the citizens knew…

“Correct you are, Commander” Yoda agrees..

“It needs to stay under wraps. The only people that will ever know it was anything other than an sudden death by natural causes will be us and the others that were in that room. Skywalker, Captain Rex, and-“

“Don’t say her name” it comes out as a growl, “leave her out of this.”

“There she was, Commander. Secrets she must learn to keep.”

Fox’s nails bite into the palms of his hands, “you won’t-“ he can’t bring himself to say the words.

“We will not force thoughts into her head.” Mace clarifies. “From what I’ve heard of her I think she’ll understand our reasoning for secrecy. Her injuries will be said to come from a mugging. You’ll fill out the report. Wrong place wrong time”

Wasn’t that the truth.

Fox nods slowly, “and what of my brothers?”

“Come out the chips must.” Fox flinches when a green finger taps at his temple, “but uncomplicated and quick it is.”

“We will let it be known that the chips are faulty and to continue to use them puts the clones in danger of having unforeseen medical problems.” Mace’s eyes narrow as Fox scoffs. He raises a brow challengingly, “do you think they’d rather know that they were all ticking timebombs? That at any moment they’d be triggered into mindless killers? Pawns?”

A tense moment passes with the two men glaring at one another. Of course Fox doesn’t think that would be any better.

“We’ll begin rotating troops through the nearest medical units capable of removal immediately.” Mace explains. “We can have the entire Coruscant Guard done by the end of the week and it appears with minimal down time. A day, tops.” He explains.

A quick nod is all the acknowledgement Fox can muster. He doesn’t like the idea of keeping the Guard in the dark and he hates having them undergo any medical procedure even more. He wasn’t the only clone who had lingering emotions when it came to the medbay, not by a long shot.

“I’ll go first.”

The Jedi at his side makes an agreeable hum. General Windu nods.

“As I would expect a good leader to do.”

Fox isn’t sure how much he buys into their approval.

13 days earlier

The official story was that Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had succumbed to a sudden illness. The holonews was ablaze with stories: from the official release to the tabloid fodder. Fellow politicians waxed poetic on him as a man and a leader, someone who stepped forward when the Republic was in its darkest hour to take control of the chaos.

It was said his last words were, “and sorry I couldn’t give more for my people and the galaxy.”

If Fox’s eyes rolled any harder he was sure they’d fly from his head and ping around in his bucket. Sidious was dead. He didn’t deserve the adoration of billions or the high honors of his burial. He was a hu’tuun. The skanah was better suited as feed for the carrion birds than the marble burial chamber he’s laid to rest in with military honors provided by clones he’d have used as weapons against the very Republic they swore to protect.

10 days earlier

Four days without Mouse and Fox feels twitchy. It’s been over a year since he’s gone more than two days without laying eyes on her. Knowing that she was recently released from the bacta tank doesn’t make it any easier. He’d not wanted to see her floating in the tank for a plethora of reasons, the least of which was his own guilt. That didn’t stop him from setting up a guard rotation at her door as soon as he was cleared to return to duty. It also didn’t stop him from demanding regular updates on her care from the kits he was setting up at her room.

Ryk had been present when she’d been taken out of the tank and said she’d seemed in good spirits as she’d slowly come too.

Wren had gently indicated that she’d love some company while she was on bed rest.

Rule had given him a look that screamed, ‘don’t be a scum sucking piece of nerf fodder.’ As he’d explained that Mous’ika had been asking for him.

She’d been asking for him. Even after everything she wanted to see him.

And he couldn’t do it.

He’d made his way twice to the nurses station before turning and making an excuse to leave.

He couldn’t look at her. Sidious’ words still swirled in his head. even though General Yoda had reassured him that he was no longer under the sway of the Sith, the thoughts still lingered.

You were supposed to use her to fuck your baser urges out.

She’s using you to obtain a foothold in the guard.

She’s fooled you all.

The underlying message was unmistakable.

Why would anyone choose to care for a clone?

Fox almost wishes the headaches would return so he could focus on the pain in his head vs. that dull empty ache in his chest, a black hole behind his rib cage, but he hasn’t had one since both the Sith Lord and the chip were removed from his life.

9 days earlier

Bail Organa is voted into the Chancellorship by an overwhelming number of his peers.

It’s the best choice, as far as Fox is concerned. With Senator Amidala announcing a leave of absence to give birth to the best guarded secret since the clone army, it’s the only choice Fox finds acceptable.

Not like anyone would ask his opinion.

Organa is a good man, even if he is a politician. He’s only ever looked out for the Republic, never given in to self indulgent whims, never taken more than he deserved.

Fox touches the fresh scar on the right side of his head gently as Holonet News continues to replay the new Chancellor's inauguration from earlier. Barely more than a week and everything has changed.

General Windu was correct, medical had been able to get through the entire guard in rapid fire. All of his men were sporting matching scars, many were more than a little curious as to the actual reason their chips had been removed. He’s both insanely proud and horribly frustrated at the theories being bandied about. Some far too close for comfort.

They can never know. Nobody can ever know.

But somehow Bail Organa knows.

He’s only had one meeting, early this morning before the inauguration, in private with the new Chancellor but he’d alluded to things that left Fox speechless. He’d known Bail to have friends in high places, but he hadn’t realized how high.

“Think he’ll do better than the last one?”

Thire hovers in the doorway, unmoving until Fox inclines his head toward the open seat across his desktop.

“Can’t be any worse.” There’s no humor in his tone but Thire huffs out a quiet laugh.

There’s a lag in the conversation, not like one has truly begun, and Fox takes a breath before setting down his datapad and flicking the holo off. “How long have we known one another?” He asks looking up at his lieutenant.

“Long enough.”

“So, you and I both know that you're here for something else and It's not just to make quips about the new Alor.”

“I suppose that’s true” Thire’s face gives nothing away. Fox liked that about the shock trooper. He was reserved, yes, but also pragmatic. A problem solver, not ruled by his emotions. Which was all well and good but something about the way he’s staring makes Fox feel like he’s the problem needing solving.

“Spit it out.”

“Go see her.”

Fox raises a brow in his vod’s direction. “Is that an order”

“Respectfully sir” the corner of Thire’s mouth quirks almost imperceptibly before it falls away.

The little shit.

In reality, Fox had known this one going to come from one of his men. He’d expected Rule or Hound, the more brash and aggressive boys, to be the ones but Thire is not a complete shock. He’d never seemed particularly close to Mouse but the lieutenant did play things close to the chest.

“She had a nightmare last night while I was on watch. Woke up crying your name.”

Inside Fox crumbles. No amount of talking to a psych droid was going to fix that feeling. No amount of time would make him feel ok about what he’d allowed to happen to the woman he loved. Thire continues.

“A clone's lot is not much. They decant us. They train us. They ship us out to fight in their war. We live, maybe. We die, more likely. Nothing is given to us.” Thire runs a hand over his head, fingers scratching at the crown. “Sometimes though, a di’kut like you gets a break. That woman in that bed cried in my arms. Talked to me like I was you for over an hour and I let her. You know why?”

Fox has to unclench his jaw, work past the jealous ache rising up in his chest to respond, “why?”

“Because it’s the closest I’ll ever have to feeling that kind of emotion. I’m not ashamed to say I pulled your girl into my lap, held her close and said soft things I didn’t even know I knew into her pretty hair until she calmed down. I was happy to pretend to be your atin’shebs but you know what the real kicker is, Vod?”

Fox’s hands are like vice grips on the edge of his seat, knuckles pale white as a shinies armor. The thought of Mouse hurting is one thing, but to have someone else be the one to comfort her? It tears at him. “What?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“When she calms down she says, “I know you're not him. Thank you for letting me pretend for a minute”.

7 days earlier

He pretends like he doesn’t know where he’s going. Like talking to the kriffing psych droid really had him so out of sorts he didn’t realize he was getting on a turbo lift and heading up three flights after his appointment.

He tries to act like he doesn’t know his feet are carrying him to the room with the familiar red and white sentinel outside the door.

Rule quirks his helmet before snapping to attention.

“Commander Fox, sir?”

“At ease Sargent.” It's late, well past visiting hours but the few sentient nurses and the droids assisting them make no move to rush him along. Perks of the armor.

Rule relaxes and glances through the small transparisteel window on the door behind him before turning back.

“She just had some medicine.” He explains, “pain was getting pretty bad again.”

Fox’s bucket hides his cringe, allowing him to outwardly remain impassive and aloof, his voice even as he asks simple questions about visitors and any possible issues arising.

“No problems here sir. I think I heard her Doc say something about discharge tomorrow. She’s doing ok” what isn’t said hangs in the air.

She’d be doing better if you were with her

“That’s good. That’s good” Fox agrees, readily avoiding the things left unspoken. “Have you been relieved for dinner?”

“I have a ration bar in my pack sir.”

“Do I need to say it?”

The sunny tone of Rule’s voice tells him everything he needs to know. He can imagine the shit eating grin that accompanies it. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, sir?”

A quick glance up and down the hall shows nothing but gleaming white tile. No staff. No visitors. No one but Rule to bear witness to his moment of weakness.

“Take the night off Sargent. I’ll cover the watch.”

He stares at the emotionless visor for a beat waiting for his kit to argue, for him to make a smart comment.

It doesn’t happen.

Rule rolls his shoulders, stretching slightly as he makes his move past Fox. At the last second, Rule's hand shoots out, resting over Fox’s vambrace. The moment lingers without either speaking until Rule gently pulls the Commander in and knocks his bucket against Fox’s, pressing his forehead to his Commander’s.

Fox, claps a hand behind the sargents head and they sit there frozen for a moment in time, Rule offering more comfort in that one gesture than he’s felt in days. A Keldabe kiss to ease his fragile psyche.

“Alverde.” Rule offers quietly when the pair finally part.

“Sargent” Fox gives a minuscule nod. “Enjoy your night.” He watches the youngster head down the hall until he turns a corner and is gone from sight.

Fox manages to avoid looking in the room for five minutes exactly. He’s able to fight off the pull to enter it for another twenty. The draw of her is too much in the end and he finds himself slipping into her room before the first thirty minutes are even past.

The lights are low and the monitors and electronics surrounding her hum and buzz steadily. Everything is white and stark. His cyar’ika is nearly the same color as the sheet she lays under.

She looks small, and so achingly fragile Fox is afraid the weight of his look alone will break her. She shivers lightly and he lurches into motion, dragging the itchy comforter over her legs and tucking it around her shoulders. Her body stirs as his gloved hand grazes along her cheek.

He freezes as her eyes flutter open. Her pupils aren’t quite right. It seems to take her a moment to piece together what’s going on but when she does the realization that washes over her is visible.

“Fox” his name sounds like a long lost friend rolling from her lips. She struggles to sit up. A look of pain flashes across her face as she twists under the blankets.

“Stop that” he demands impotently, his gloves moving to press gently against her chest. “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

She blinks owlishly up at him in the way only a person on good pain meds can, like she doesn’t quite understand what’s been said and she’s not sure whether she should comply or question it. It’s somewhere between bemused and scared.

He cups her cheek in his hand, “easy precious girl.” He soothes. Mouse relaxes into his touch as his gloved thumb rubs softly. Her eyes flutter shut and he can feel the soft sound she makes against his palm.

This was already far past what he intended. He just wanted to see her, to prove to himself she was really alive and in one piece despite him.

Now, he finds himself already slipping into old habits.

More focused, her eyes open. Her hand slips up and grips his vambrace. Slowly she pulls his hand away from her face. She lets her fingers slip down into and through his. Her voice is thick with sleep when she speaks and Fox has to lean in to hear her.

“I knew you’d come”

Of course she had. Fox wonders if she knew him better than he knew himself. This was always going to happen no matter how many times he’d lied to himself. He pulls his hand away. Mouse’s hangs empty in the air for a moment before she sets it down over her chest.

The quiet burr and hum of the monitors around her are the only sound between them until he reaches up to his bucket and lets the seal pop with a soft hiss.

Her eyes scan his face as he sets the helm off to the side. There’s a question there he can’t decipher. “What can I do?”

A harsh laugh escapes Fox’s lips and Mouse frowns at him.

“I think you’ve done enough, cyar’ika.”

“Fox-“ it’s a scolding tone that holds no weight when she looks like a battered doll in a too big hospital bed. She closes her eyes when he doesn’t give in and offer her more.

The bed dips under his weight as he sits at the edge of it. “I just wanted to make sure you were, ok. Alright?” He holds back from touching her again. It takes an enormous amount of will.

“I’m ok, Fox. Because of you.”

It’s a lie. All of it. It can’t be anything else. “You're in a hospital bed,” he growls, pushing up to his feet and stalking toward the window. He can’t look at her. “You spent days floating in bacta. You-“

“I’m alive.”

“That’s not because of me.”

He hears the ruffle of sheets as he looks out over Coruscant. The lights of the buildings and speeders in the sky lanes, like stars in the polluted evening light.

“Fox-“ her hand touches his arm and he spins to steady her. Anger swells up in him.

“Kriff- Mouse, get back in bed” he orders lowly, “you’re going to get hurt.”

She sways gently on her feet in the too big hospital gown but her jaw is set, “will you listen to me?”

“Will you get back in bed?” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before looking at her again. “Get back in bed and I’ll listen. Please.”

Mouse stands, arms crossed, glaring pointedly. Fox has had enough. Quick and smooth like a tactical insertion he scoops her up. Mouse makes a small noise as his arms slide behind her knees and his other arm cradles behind her shoulders. She breathes heavily as she looks up at him.

“You’re going back to bed.” He covers the small room in just a few steps. When he goes to set her down she slips her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life.

“I’m not getting back in that bed unless you come with me.”

“You’re not in the position to make demands.” But that’s a lie because, with him, she was always in the position to make demands. She just never had to.

“Please, Fox. I just want one good night. You can leave as soon as I'm asleep.”

It’s hard to say if it’s the tired tone of her voice, the smell of her skin so temptingly close, or just his own beaten down need to be close to her, regardless Fox gives in.

“The armor stays on.” He says as he settles into the bed, he tries to keep his boots off the bed the best he can. Mouse curls tighter against him. It can’t be comfortable against the plastoid but to look at her he’d never know. One hand rests along his jaw while the other wraps around his back keeping him from easily disentangling himself.

Fox can’t help himself as he slips one glove off and cards his fingers through her hair, stopping every so often to work out a tangle. Mouse sighs against him.

“Precious girl,” he hums lowly as her fingers trace along the stubble at his jaw, “go to sleep.”

“You're going to leave once I do.”

“Yes, that was the deal.”

“You’re not going to come back.”

Again, he’s struck with how well she knows him. “No, cyar’ika. I’m not.”

6 days earlier

His knuckles are wailing in pain and it feels so kriffing good. His hands, wrapped in protective tape are held tight and safe as he tenderizes the heavy bag in front of him. A low, guttural growl works its way up from his chest with each landed blow.

It’s the first time he’s felt in control in days. Even if it only lasted for his duration in the sparring rooms he didn’t care. When he closes his eyes he doesn’t see Mouse at the end of his blaster, the way her body recoiled and convulsed at the first shot. He doesn’t hear the scream that rips through her when the second bolt burns through her side. He doesn’t dwell on the voice in his head demanding the kill while Fox did everything to drag his near perfect aim away from center mass.

He pictures Sidious’ face on the bag and the pile of sloppy mash his fists were making it into. There’s catharsis in the exertion that a psych droid couldn’t give him.

“Commander, sir?”

Fox turns to see Hound stripped down to just his black under armor pants. He was a burly boy as far as clones went, thicker and more muscular through the torso, next to Hound, Fox looks almost lithe.

Fox pants lightly as he dips to grab a bottle of water and straighten back up. “What can I do for you?”

“I- do you need to-“

Fox watches as the man chooses his words carefully, finally gesturing first toward the mat.

“You wanna go a few, rounds? Looks like you could use it?”

A roll of tape is flipped through the air in answer. Hound catches it smoothly, giving Fox a happy grin as he begins wrapping his hands.

5 days earlier

There’s a neat hole in his wall, fist sized and fresh, less than a week old. Fox pretends like he doesn’t see Chancellor Organa eyeballing it with some amount of apprehension. What he can’t pretend is that a visit from the newly minted Chancellor to his office isn’t a surprise.

“Commander, you can drop the title with me.” The Chancellor says for the second time since his arrival.

“Sir, it’s frowned upon-“

“-not by me”

Fox huffs and closes his eyes to hide the roll of them. “Ok, fine. Can I get you something to drink? Some caf?”

Bail waves off the offer, “I won’t be long and it looks like you're woefully underserved.” He tips his head back toward the door and the empty desk.

A bristle of irritation tingles down Fox’s neck. “She was in the hospital. She was…” the words trail off. Part of protecting his little Mouse was keeping her involvement in the Sidious event quiet.

“I know, Commander.” Bail says quietly, “we share a friend on the council who’s made me aware of many interesting things.”

It feels like he’s being baited. He likes to think Organa wouldn't try to try to weasel information from him but his trust is a very delicate thing at the moment and he’s not willing to give an inch. His loyalty is to his men and the republic, after that only one other person had earned any devotion from him and that was not Bail Organa. At least not yet.

“If there’s anything I can do for her, anything she needs we can make that happen.”

Fox glances at the picture on his desk. It had come by courier earlier in the day. It’s been neatly matted and framed to be hung, a children’s drawing of a small green twi’lek child and him holding hands. He’d stared at it on his desk in silence for far too long before he felt something ugly bubble up. Now he had a hole in the wall. He hoped the picture would cover it.

Fox continues to look at the picture. He needs a second to pretend like he knows what Mouse needs. He doesn’t listen to the nagging voice inside of him saying it to him. He hates that voice, would smother it if he could.

“She needs time to heal.”

“I can make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

Earlier this day

“Senator Amidala” Fox greets the senator at the door, “this is a surprise. If I keep receiving politicians in my office I’m going to have to have it made more suitable.”

The senator gives him a bright smile, “it’s good to see you Fox.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “it’s good to see you too Padmé.”

They were friends, of a sort. They’d seen enough together that Fox would gladly file her under battle buddies in his short list of friends. She looks lovely, as always, absolutely glowing. Her hand rests softly over the growing baby bump she was now proudly displaying.

“You look wonderful. Congratulations on the coming Ik’aad.” He offers gesturing toward her belly. His eyes linger and he remembers laying Mouse across his bed, placing kisses in a ring around her naval and imaging what it would be like someday when he-

Fox gives his head a quick shake and refocuses on the senator.

“Thank you.” He watches her eyes travel to the child’s drawing on the wall behind his desk before returning to him. “And how are you doing?”

“As well as can be expected. Chancellor Organa keeps a busy schedule and he’s insistent that I go with him. He’s got a lot of ideas and he asks my opinion. It’s different… but it’s nice.”

Padmé slips into the chair across from him.

“That’s wonderful” but she doesn’t sound like it’s wonderful. She sounds like she was here on a mission that he hasn’t been briefed on. He raises a brow at her. They’ve known each other long enough that she should know to just come out with it.

“We’re leaving for Naboo today. I want to have the baby in the lake country. It’s beautiful and peaceful.” She lets out a tired laugh, “and far away from the prying eyes of the holonet news.”

“They’ve been very… interested in you as of late” he offers diplomatically.

Another small laugh, “to say the least” Padmé sobers. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok with her going?”

Confusion must show on his face. Her?

Padmé frowns gently, the look of pity is out of place on her serene features, “you weren’t told, were you?”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to speak clearly.” Fox tries to bite back the tension but it slips into his voice.

She says Mouse’s name. Her real name.

“The Chancellor asked if we would take her with us. That she needed a place to finish recovering.” Padmé is watching his face. She’s trying to gauge his reaction.

He tries to give her nothing.

“She’s an amazing woman. She said if she went then she had to be useful. She’s going to be my assistant while I’m on leave-“

Fox holds up a hand. “She’s excellent at what she does. You’ll never be in better hands.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not her keeper. Mouse deserves to be safe and happy.” He shoots her a forced smile. “That’s not with me.”

Current

He had the rancor etched into his arm after Thorn had been killed in action on a mission Fox was supposed to have led. It was an inside joke they’d heard as shinies. Something about a Jedi and a rancor walking into a cantina. He can’t remember the punchline. It wasn’t funny anyways.

The Pantoran works the needle over his freshly shaven chest. Back and forth, outlining and filling. Pressing the ink into his skin to permanently mark him with another mark of regret, penance. Everytime he looks in the mirror, stripped down from his armor and his blacks he’ll see the reminder of what never was supposed to be, the thing that he went after when he knew it wasn’t allowed. The love that nearly destroyed the person he cared for beyond all others.

“So, this picture is pretty wicked” the Pantoran says conversationally. He glances back and forth from the reference picture Fox gave him, a partial hand print pressed against his armor, the fourth and fifth finger only partially visible and the heel of the hand smeared red. “Was it done in ink?”

“No. Blood.”

The Pantoran makes a sound of understanding. The buzz of the tattoo gun fills the quiet.

Seconds, minutes, hours it’s all the same as Fox sits still as stone in the chair, the press of the needle intimately familiar.

He thinks of Mouse on a shuttle to Naboo.

This was what he’d needed. Mouse far away, somewhere safe. Somewhere no one could hurt her. Where he couldn’t hurt her. No matter what he’s told he still doesn’t believe there isn’t something in him that can be persuaded, to be flipped on, that won’t harm her.

He needed to focus on his job, his men, the Galactic Republic. There was no world in which he and Mouse would work and it was better that she wasn’t there to know that.

��Alright, mate.” The Artist sets the gun down and claps his hands once before rubbing them together. “You’re all set. Why don’t you take a looksy in the mirror while I grab the bacta gel and a dressing?”

Fox nods and pushes himself up. His back is stiff from laying still and he takes a moment to stretch and twist before stepping in front of the mirror. His eyes trace the ink. It’s a perfect replica of the picture, deep vibrant red fingers pressing into his armor, only now pressing into his heart. A reminder of what happens when he becomes selfish. When he wants more than the greater design allows for.

“It’s perfect.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox/reader #cc 1010 #commander fox #fox fanciers #tcw

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twilightofthe · 4 years

Text

Ohhhhh Nonny do I have an IDEA for this one, thank you so much. I’m going off of your Separatists idea, thanks!

(You also sent me that second Obikin prompt which I shall also answer boy howdy!)

(OTP prompts list found here)

Obianidala 4 - Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

In this universe, Dooku tries to catch more flies with honey than vinegar at first. When Padmé Amidala starts stirring up a fuss in the Senate about things that could interfere with Sidious’s plans, Dooku sees an opportunity arise. That formidable personality Amidala uses to command attention to her cause, something like that could be useful to him, to have on his side. His Master will certainly disagree, but Dooku knows that his Master cannot be his Master forever. At some point, Sidious will have to be dealt with; why not have the girl who took down the last Chancellor as an ally?

Count Dooku arranges a meeting with Senator Amidala. He tells her the truth about Sheev Palpatine. He shows her the datapad painstakingly compiled with over a decade of evidence of the Chancellor’s high treason. The entire sordid affair that was invasion of Naboo and Palpatine’s role in it is displayed in full. The truth is undeniable.

Padmé has never been so furious in her life. If what is in these documents is true, everything up to and including her own election as Queen, what she prided herself on for achieving through her own success and talent and by the grace of a democratic society, all of it, was his doing. He chose her. He groomed her. Eight fucking years of her life as a civil servant unknowingly dancing on his strings like a puppet, enacting his will, causing her planet and the galaxy irreparable damage. Gods, he chose her because she was weak-minded enough to hand him the Chancellorship on a silver platter.

Dooku tells her of Palpatine’s plan, of the war he’s been cultivating— too late in the proceedings now for Padmé to do anything to stop it, gods, he’s thought of everything, and his ultimate goal of complete galactic domination. He believes Dooku is his servant, on his side, but, Dooku says, he does not plan to follow him forever. He wants to take Palpatine down, and he thinks Padmé could help him.

She learned all of her political prowess from the man who betrayed her. She knows he has left nothing to chance and that there is no way civil law and political action could knock him off his throne, no matter what evidence she gathers. She doesn’t trust Dooku, thinks he’s just as bad.

But Padmé was a tool in Palpatine’s rise. Anything bad that happens because of him is now blood on her hands by proxy.

Padmé Amidala commits herself to an alliance with Count Dooku.

A slightly less detailed version of the evidence shown to Queen Jamillia is enough to commit Naboo as well.

They can’t tell Palpatine yet, don’t want to alert him to their plan, so for a year they plan in private. Dooku is certain his Master is unaware. During that year, Padmé is told of what Darth Sidious really is, how the Sith factor into everything. She really didn’t sign up for this. This is Jedi-level danger that she has no experience in handling and gods, the Jedi don’t even know about any of this, and while Sidious is awful and Padmé Will bring that bastard down, she doesn’t like or trust Dooku in the slightest. Does not want his ideas of how the galaxy should be run.

But what should she do?

The answer comes when Dooku tells her that he is being ordered by his Master to make attempts on her life due to her rabble rousing in the Senate. He won’t actually kill her, he promises, and she knows he needs her enough that she believes him.

And then the sack of utter shit kills Cordé accompanied by a completely unrepentant message to her saying that it was necessary, and Padmé despises him too and maybe that’s why she’s so eager to lightly push him into the fire when Palpatine pulls her into a meeting with the Jedi about it. Maybe the Jedi can help her, do something, maybe—

The Jedi is the same one who was sent to protect her a decade ago, the one Dooku’s mentioned by name from time to time when he’s humored her questions on the Sith and Jedi, his former grand-apprentice Padmé swears he might still be fond of.

And that apprentice’s current apprentice, and damn, Little Ani has certainly grown up...

Obi Wan is truly brilliant, Padmé didn’t appreciate that enough the first time they met. She’d appreciate it more now, if not for the light suspicion she starts picking up from him near the moment the investigation into her attackers starts. She supposes it could just be dislike of how his apprentice is blatantly, adorably enamored with her— which, doesn’t quite bother Padmé like it should, and no, she is not going down that road right now, nope —and it’s easy enough to tell Obi Wan cares very deeply for Anakin, but she suspects it’s more, that he’s caught on that there’s something she might not be telling them.

Having his intense focus on her though? Not entirely bad. His eyes staring into hers and his smooth voice as he asks her questions? Padmé can accept that. She can accept Anakin tripping over himself, being genuine and kind and so eager to help her. Even if she doesn’t want to tell herself why.

After the second assassin attempt— bugs, Dooku, really? —she can tell Obi Wan definitely knows something is up and says so to Dooku, who had promised her he’d handle it.

Her and Anakin are sent off to Naboo and she knows that bothers Obi Wan— though again, is that more his suspicions about her or his worry over Anakin —and she dearly hopes Dooku doesn’t kill him

During the time on Naboo, she learns much more about Anakin Skywalker, his humor, his brightness, his complication, his anger. He’s mad at the government too, and he feels pressure and upset at who he answers to. He’s ridiculously gone on his own Master even if he doesn’t know it, and Padmé has seen Obi Wan with her own eyes so she understands that completely. He’s beautiful and she’s unable to look away from him, especially not when he’s looking right back at her, kisses her, and no, this is a problem, a Major problem because the crux of the entire issue is that he is far, far too close to Palpatine.

Padmé has spent enough time reflecting back on just how exactly Palpatine groomed her, she recognizes it now in Anakin. He, wine flushed over dinner, tells her of the supposed prophecy he doesn’t quite believe in, how he is very powerful in the Force. She remembers all Dooku told her of the Sith, and while she’s sure he didn’t tell her close to all of it, she knows far more than enough to know that Anakin Skywalker is in grave danger

She sees even more of it when Tatooine and his mother come into play

She needs to pull away from this.

The updates Dooku’s sending on Obi Wan, how he’s being lured, her concern, no, none of this is good.

These are good men, bright men, people who just want to help, and she can’t have them around her because they’ll mess up the purpose she’s gambled her entire life for

So when Anakin gets a distress call from Obi Wan on Geonosis, Padmé grits her jaw, shoves down her feelings, and leads Anakin straight into Dooku’s trap.

The look of utter heartbreak and betrayal on his face once they arrive and are captured, when the droids let Padmé go and she walks away from him, the pain in his voice as he says her name, only her name, nothing else, it breaks her.

But this is it, Obi Wan discovered the clones and the game is put in motion, and Padmé can no longer hide in the shadows, has to sit and watch as the two Jedi are put in the arena to die, looks at Dooku who’s watching them with a troubled expression— she knows he made Obi Wan an offer and was turned down, knows he too sees something in Obi Wan like he did in her, and Padmé has an idea because she sensed a likeness in Obi Wan that resides in herself, that he wouldn’t listen to a shady figure like Dooku, but if she could make him see her view, tell him what was controlling them— controlling Anakin...

Anakin, she thinks, would come too. For his Master, if anything, but she knew they had something and if she hadn’t managed to completely kill it by betraying him.

She tells Dooku she might be able to convince the Jedi one more time to see things their way, and he narrows his eyes suspiciously but keeps the other newly-Separatist leaders from going after her when she tosses two blasters into the arena for the unarmed Jedi.

Obi Wan’s glare at her is pure acid and no, that one will not be easy, she very well might fail, and something in her both winces at the disdain but also ignites at the challenge, he is a challenge and she is good at challenges, but she catches Anakin’s eyes and sees confusion, remnants of that awful pain that makes her faint with guilt, and hope, hope in those eyes as he handles the blaster with the ease of a lightsaber— Obi Wan’s even better at it, Padmé notes with amusement, remembering him expressing distaste for them —she feels her heart jump. Maybe she hasn’t destroyed what she and Anakin had, maybe she hasn’t lost him, maybe there’s a chance to explain—

The Jedi show up and they bring the clones, and now it’s a full out battle, the other leaders are fleeing, but Padmé can’t go, not yet, though she is shameless enough to duck behind Jango Fett and let him handle things when she sees Mace Windu headed in her direction with a look like death on his face, which, fair, very fair, Padmé does kind of deserve it, she did lie to everyone

She’s trying to follow Obi Wan and Anakin, catches a swoopbike and gets a small cluster of droids to follow her when she sees them headed on carrier ships.

This time, when one ship is struck, Obi Wan and Anakin are in different transports, so it is Obi Wan who is knocked out of it and tumbles into a sand dune, and Anakin on his way to get Dooku without even noticing his Master fell.

Padmé is ready to use her droid squad to capture him again so she can explain, but now clones are headed his way too, and her droids and the clones engage in a firefight across the sands, so it is Padmé alone who goes across the sand to offer him a hand up

Her getting flipped onto her back and a lightsaber at her chest reminds her that right, he’s a bit peeved with her at the moment

Wait, she tells him, raising her hands complacently. Listen to her, she says, Anakin is in danger.

His hair is unkempt and there’s dirt on his face and his stare seems more intense than ever. His voice is icy as he replies, and who’s fault is that?

She winces. He is mad that she hurt Anakin on top of everything else, which is also fair, she’s mad at herself too. Not from her, she explains, from the Sith Lord, the one Dooku told you about, did he tell you their name?

His eyes narrow, says Dooku said the Sith controls the Senate

Padmé tells him she’s met the Sith, Dooku is right, and that the Sith not only controls the Senate, they control Anakin, have had their eye on him for a very long time

And there’s that flash of protective fire in his eyes, she has his attention, though he’s trying to act like she doesn’t. She likes his attention, is glad he cares for Anakin as much as she does. He asks her, tone dangerous, what the hell she’s talking about.

Padmé takes a breath. You’re in danger of losing him to the Dark Side.

He reels back ever so slightly, snarls, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

Ask him what we did on Tatooine, she counters, watches as he takes that entirely the wrong way, the flush of cheeks, the second once-over of her, and she can’t help but be amused.

No, she stresses though, because they don’t have the time, not like that. Ask him what he did. He did something awful and if you don’t help him with that, it will get worse and he will deliver himself right into the Sith’s hands

She can see him paling. He knows she’s not lying. What did he do? Who is this Sith?

She shakes her head, tells him that he will not believe her, and that Anakin must tell him himself, and he must still be there for him. You are what’s keeping him where he is. Don’t drive him away. You can’t lose him.

His eyes narrow, he wants to argue with her and the lightsaber is still at her chest and he’s staring at her just as intensely and her heart is tight, but he’s getting a report on his commlink, and she hears something about Anakin about to engage Dooku, and he swears sharply and is pulling out the blaster she gave him and she doesn’t have time to move before he shoots her with it—

And he stunned her, thank the gods, she wakes up handcuffed in a transport ship with a few clones still milling around, she sees the entrance to the cave system Dooku was using off at a distance, she knows exactly where he would be and knows in her heart that Obi Wan and Anakin are fighting him.

The clones, bless them, are still a little new, and her cuffs are in the front and aren’t exactly chained to anything, and she’s in white just like them so it doesn’t take much to pull her wrap cowl up over her head, wait until one isn’t looking, and take off out of the ship at a run, somehow avoiding getting shot until she’s deep in the cave and has time to pull a pick out of her boot and undo the cuffs with her mouth. She can hear fighting in the distance and she may be unarmed, but she feels she was finally breaking through to Obi Wan and she needs something she can control, not Dooku, not Sidious, her, and she bursts out—

And there’s Dooku, fighting what looks like Master Yoda, and there are both of her men, collapsed on the floor, and obviously there is history between Dooku and his old master so neither of them even pay her any mind as she darts across the ground to where Obi Wan is laying slightly over Anakin— who, gods, is missing an entire arm, Dooku you bastard —and is surprisingly, still awake.

She meets Anakin’s bleary, pain-filled eyes, runs a hand soothingly over his forehead and croons softly at him, melts at how quickly he leans in to her touch despite what she’s done, what side she’s on. It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay, rest.

Did you mean it? he asks her, and her heart shatters. Any of it, did you mean-?

I didn’t want to lie, she tells him, completely honest. You weren’t part of the plan, you never were, hurting you wasn’t—

He makes a confused, sad little noise as she leans closer and oh, she can’t help it, she leans down and she kisses him and he presses into it eagerly, she can taste blood in his mouth, before slumping back to the floor, asleep.

What are you doing? She turns to see Obi Wan struggling to wake, glare back on his face, and oh, these two need to have a serious conversation, but that’s not the now. She wipes Anakin’s blood off her lip.

She tells him she is gaining an ally, and when he flares up, adds that she does truly care for him, and wants him safe, and the only way she can do that is if she takes out the Sith who is after him

Why side with Dooku then, Obi Wan challenges, and she smiles, tells him that Dooku too is a threat, and in this position she can try to bring down the both of them—

With help, she emphasizes. I don’t know the Force, there are things they don’t tell me and I am far from strong enough. If you were to help me...

Obi Wan snaps that he is loyal to the Republic, and Padmé counters, is he to Anakin? Padmé catches the break in his façade for but a second as he glances at his broken apprentice still curled up beside him, and she knows she isn’t wrong.

She dares to reach out, brush a loose strand of shiny auburn hair out of his face while he’s incapacitated, tells him, she is willing to help them. They should consider helping her. He stays still while she brushes his hair, watching her hand. Maybe she hasn’t misjudged him either.

Obi Wan is once more cut off by louder noises and the sound of clones approaching, and Padmé sees Dooku getting ready to flee, so she pats both men on the head once more, tells Obi Wan, commands him, keep him safe. We will meet again.

And she’s off, dodging Yoda who’s running back for the Jedi, catching a swoopbike of her own and tearing off after Dooku to escape the planet.

Naboo has a declaration of secession to make, and a war is starting, and for the first time, Padmé feels like she has options.

#like ok yea they're still enemies by the end of this but c'mon y'all know where this is going i tried to leave it open ended #anon tbh this is a GOLDEN idea for a full on Clone Wars through ROTS au thanks so much for this #asks #anon #morai's fic #ot3 to save the galaxy #queen of my heart #our only ho #one (1) hot mess #obianidala

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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Remember that AU in which Anakin is a single father in witness protection after turning on his boss and falls in love with Obi-Wan? Here’s more. Read on AO3!

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Anakin thought he wasn’t seeing correctly when he stared into the face of Dooku Serenno. Anakin had met the man plenty of times in the past, in the part of his past he thought he could l finally leave behind and forget, more or less at least. He couldn’t believe it. Everything had been going great lately. He had gotten a part-time job to keep busy when the twins were gone and the FBI wasn’t breathing down his neck, the twins had adjusted wonderfully to Kindergarten and had made plenty of friends, and Anakin had a boyfriend.

An absolutely perfect man miles out of his league whom he didn’t deserve and still stayed with him. Obi-Wan was too good to be true sometimes. He was caring and thoughtful with his every gesture, adored the twins and never even minded it when they talked about Padmé. Anakin hadn’t even thought about dating again before meeting him, his status making it more than difficult, and even without that – Anakin loved Padmé. He couldn’t imagine not being in love with her and had always assumed that immediately would deter anybody who could see past the whole single-father of twins and yet Obi-Wan never even looked jealous. If anything, he encouraged the twins to speak of their mother.

Anakin had known that he fell hard and fast for people, but the thought of Obi-Wan someday not being there had already become unbearable.

And now he was staring at Dooku.

Dooku, who knew all the blood that stained Anakin’s hands, who had seen him at his worst and walked through the aftermaths of one of Vader’s infamous tantrums. The fragile peace Anakin had found was threatening to fall apart just because of his presence.

“I believe should be asking you that,” Dooku spoke up icily. “What are you doing here, Vader? What do you want from my grandson?”

“Grandson?” Anakin echoed. Right. Dinner with Obi-Wan’s family of which Dooku was a part. Anakin couldn’t see any resemblance between Obi-Wan and Dooku – but Obi-Wan had said that he was adopted. And yet, still-

Still – how could somebody as good as Obi-Wan come from the same family as Dooku. The bastard was to blame that Sidious had gotten away with as many of his crimes as he had. Sure, Sidious had also threatened him, but the man had been stupid enough to help Sheev Palpatine once. He should have known what it would lead to. The only reason Anakin hadn’t mentioned any of that to the agents holding his leash was simply that there were more important people to worry about than the lawyers Sidious had made use of. His enforcers were much more dangerous and more likely to kill you.

“I didn’t know about this,” Anakin continued.

Dooku rolled his eyes. “Obviously… But neither did I. I thought you were dead.”

“I am,” Anakin hissed. “Vader-” Anakin paused to look around as if anybody could overhear him. It was stupid, but he had just walked into the guy who was the reason he was short an arm. He figured he could allow himself some paranoia. “Vader died four years ago and I do not plan on resurrecting him.”

“So you will just content yourself with bringing your enemies down on my family?”

Anakin felt his rage begin to boil up. That was absolutely not the case. He had done everything he could to ensure his family was safe and that nobody near him would ever learn of the secrets he was hiding.

“I didn’t-“

“Daddy, daddy!”

The door was ripped open again and Luke was staring at Anakin with wide eyes, utterly excited. “Daddy, Obi-Wan’s daddy is even taller than you!”

“Oh?” Anakin crouched down in front of his son, keenly avoiding looking ta Dooku. He knew that if he did so now, he would lose all his calm. He needed to get away from this situation for a moment.

He never should have invited Obi-Wan over, never should have spoken to him-

“That’s impossible, sweetheart,” Anakin said seriously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Luke shouted and took Anakin’s hand to pull him inside. “Daddy, you have to come see.”

Glancing back at Dooku, Anakin allowed himself to be dragged away by his son. He made a gesture that hopefully conveyed that Dooku should shut his mouth and focused on Luke instead.

Luke led him into the living room. It was small but cozy and half the dishes were already put on the table. The food looked amazing, much more extravagant than anything Anakin was used to for homemade dinners and his and Obi-Wan’s dates had all been homemade dinners because Anakin was a paranoid bastard who didn’t want to leave the twins home alone with a babysitter.

Anakin kind of wanted to throw up.

This was so normal.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that-

No, he could. Over five years ago, in those last months of Padmé’s pregnancy when they had thought they had escaped Sidious and were just happy together. They had eaten breakfast in bed and cooked together and wondered how they would handle all this with a child as neither had been particularly used to running a household on their own. They had tried to figure out what house to buy and how to paint the nursery-

“So you’re Anakin Lars, yes?”

The man Luke had led him to was indeed taller than Anakin, though not by that much. He had long hair, pulled back into a ponytail, and a kind smile. He seemed like a nice man, utterly unbothered by Leia sitting on his shoulders and braiding his hair.

“Yes, Sir,” Anakin said.

That was how you still introduced yourself to your partner’s parent, wasn’t it? Anakin wasn’t slipping back into yes, master, no, master, I will try, master-

“It’s nice to meet you Anakin,” Qui-Gon said warmly. “And no need to call me Sir, please. I’ve been waiting to meet you. Your twins have already had a lot to say about you.”

“Ah yes. They talk a lot,” Anakin said lamely. Could this situation get even anymore out of control?

“Honestly, Father,” Qui-Gon then sighed and looked past Anakin to where Dooku must be standing. “What have you told this poor boy? He looks like we’re going to eat him alive.”

“I have done nothing-“

“We used to work together,” Anakin quickly intervened. “I gave Dooku’s company a hand when it came to their cybersecurity and somebody still managed to get to Dooku. Don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for that one. It was a huge loss, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dooku gritted out in-between shut teeth. “Tremendously.”

“Is that work I hear?”

A new man entered the living room from the kitchen it looked like. His black hair was a mess and he mustered the group in front of him with interested eyes. This must be Xanatos then, Obi-Wan’s other brother.

“I thought we said no work talk,” Xanatos continued and then held his hand out to Anakin. “Nice to meet the guy who made my brother act like a schoolgirl with a crush. I’m Xanatos.”

Anakin took his hand. “Anakin.” Vader, Vader, Vader. “Lars. Niece to meet you. Obi-Wan has told me a lot about you.”

“All good only, I hope?” Xanatos asked with a smirk that was borderline flirtatious.

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend!” Obi-Wan then shouted from the kitchen as well and moments later walked inside with a couple of bowls in hand. “Please just ignore him, Anakin. He’s an idiot. Qui-Gon dropped him too much on the head as a child.”

“Hahaha, very funny,” Xanatos replied and then finally sat down in his cha. “I was a teenager already when Qui-Gon got stuck with me. You, however, itty-bitty Oafy-Wan-“

“Boys,” Qui-Gon’s voice rang out. He sounded a little tired, this arguing must happen more often then. Anakin only hoped that Luke and Leia wouldn’t turn out like that. “I apologize Anakin. I fear you get to see all of Obi-Wan’s bad sides today. The of them are not as well behaved as your children.”

Qui-Gon looked up to Leia who was content sitting on his shoulders and smiled. “You are a little princess, aren’t you, Miss Leia?”

“Yeah!” Leia agreed. “And when I grow up, I’m going to be president.”

“I will be a knight,” Luke spoke up. “And I’ll save daddy from all the bad guys.”

Anakin smiled slightly. If he had something to say about it, his son very much would not ever even see one of the ghosts haunting Anakin.

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” Anakin shot Dooku a meaningful look. They could settle this later, but he wouldn’t ruin this evening for Obi-Wan.

“And what is that smell? I would give an arm and a leg for that dish.”

The twins, long used to his jokes, still giggled while Obi-Wan only rolled his eyes, Qui-Gon and Xanatos looked confused and Dooku-

Dooku was pale.

Was it- No. It couldn’t be but-

Well, Perhaps the tyrannical lawyer was feeling a little guilty about Anakin’s predicament.

Oh.

Oh, this could be fun.

#obikin #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #fanfic #in an endless universe AUs #im having way too much fun with this au

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gffa · 4 years

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For the SW ask you just posted: I) Best Clone, V) Best TCW arc or W) Best Rebels arc. I hope I got those right. I chose a few but feel free to pick one you like better. And I hope you feel better soon, I've been there if you ever need to talk.

Thank you so much for the kind words! The ask meme has been helping distract me long enough to let my feelings settle and I think I’m reaching a better place, slowly but surely. It’s hard, because I do believe that this kind of shit needs to be let go of before it sinks its claws into my heart, but sometimes it does feel deeply unfair. And yet I know that I would regret it more if I held onto it or acted out of that place. Also, thanks for doing this in the middle of the night, it’s one of those nights where I don’t think I could sleep for a bit, so this really does help. ♥ I. Best Clone? Answered here! V. Favorite Clone Wars Arc? Answered here! W. Favorite Rebels Arc? Oh, this is so hard! You know, as good as the Twilight of the Apprentice arc is and the one that I think generally deserves the most hype, I think I’d have to say it’s a toss-up between the search for Luminara (because it was so brutal, that’s one of the most hard-hitting SW arcs for me) and the final arc. I’m more on the fence about Kanan’s final arc, but Ezra’s? Oh man. The sheer poetic cinema of all the parallels to Anakin’s story--he’s already spent the entire show struggling with how to become a Jedi, what that means and what it looks like, does he fight or not, how fighting is basically kind of unavoidable, flirting with the dark side because he doesn’t really get why it’s so bad, and then all of that culminates in Sheev Palpatine saying he can save Ezra’s family for him, if he’ll just make this one tiny deal with the devil. The sheer amount of character it took for Ezra to see through those lies, to realize that he couldn’t sacrifice the rest of the galaxy to save these people he so desperately wanted to save, that he had to learn one last lesson about how he couldn’t save Kanan because it would undo everything else, this person that Ezra grew up into being--still sometimes silly, still seeing the galaxy with wonder, but he’s grown up now, he’s figured himself out, and getting to see that person, the confident, amazing person Ezra became, because of the people who adopted him, the people who taught him to be a Jedi, to care about others, to fight for others, to tap into this amazing power, to learn to actually let them in when they came to talk to him, to connect with them and the galaxy around him? It made my Ezra feelings go into supernova and it’s one of my favorite arcs for his character and everything he faces and comes through to the other side of. Ezra Bridger is the best.

#ezra bridger #sw ask meme #piepeloe

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wonderlandleighleigh · 4 years

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I get where Yoda is coming from, Anakin’s choices didn’t help the order and no one denies that. However if your millennia old order doesn’t change over those millennia, then it risks doing more harm then good.

Well, right.

And I often read both sides of these arguments. That the Jedi have rules, and if Anakin couldn’t follow them, he should have left (A fair point. I’m relatively certain that had the Republic won the war, Anakin woulda mooned the Council on his way to Padme’s apartment. I don’t think he was planning to stay once the war was over.). That the Jedi were fine as they were and that they like...didn’t steal babies and stuff (I believe they kinda did...I’ve read contradictory things about how much say the parents had when the Jedi came a’knockin’ for their babies), and that they didn’t need to change.

But, to quote a certain short, Canadian mutant: “Everything changes. The day ya stop changin’ is the day ya die.” The level of stagnation in the Jedi order was staggering.

So if we’re to believe that the order held onto its ancient code for thousands of years with no updates and no debate about whether there should be updates, it’s no wonder they got played and were killed off. (Clearly the Jedi had no space Jews in their ranks. We argue and debate everything.)

And honestly? Palpatine would have done that with or without Anakin at his side. Without Anakin, Shifty ol’ Sheev would still have pulled the wool over everybody’s eyes. It was just made worse because of Anakin. Anakin realized Sheev was a Sith lord and brought Mace to him. Without Anakin, the ruse would have kept going, up until Sheevy gave Order 66, and the Jedi would have died anyways. Maybe a few more Younglings would have escaped, but it’s unlikely. The Jedi were utterly and hopelessly unprepared.

I’m not saying the Jedi were bad people, or that they deserved what they got or anything like that. They didn’t. The Jedi were moving along and doing what they thought was right.

They just...kinda sucked at some stuff.

#The Jedi #Leigh thinks about Star Wars #Anonymous

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iit-s-kitty · 4 years

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"My problems with Rise of Skywalker, because fuck being neutral this movie was a crime"

Written by a disappointed Star Wars fan that happens to ship Reylo, and who will most likely ends up rewriting this mess in her fanfiction

The ridiculous fast pace: seriously, this movie feels like the project you forgot to do on holidays and the due date is tomorrow, so you're just doing the "important plot points": The Palpatine plot? Check. The Rey's parents plot? Check.

The lack of closure for the character's storylines: throughout the sequels it was stablished storyline that allowed for the development of different characters. For example, Finn learning that escaping is NOT the way of opposing the First Order, Poe learning to be the leader the Resistance needs, Han coming back in order to face that what became of Ben's was equally his fault as well as Snoke's, and the most important ones being Rey and Ben's journey. Here? All forgotten. Suddenly we erased whatever happened in the last two movies and give everything for granted, because no one gives a fuck about what happened. Poe is the same as he was, Finn is still hung up on Rey and exhibits no personality of it, Rey has no sequels of what happened in Ach-To at the cave or in the Throne Room with Kylo, and speaking of which...

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED WITH KYLO? We cut the last movie on the biggest cliffhanger for this character: he had killed his master in order to gain more power (ironically surpassing Darth Vader... Only that Kylo did it in order to protect Rey, something he wasn't looking for and ended up wanting her at his side), became the Supreme Leader and witnessed the almost complete wipeout of the Resistance as well as Luke's demise. Yet to him it meant nothing because the only person that managed to connect with him decided to stick to her own path and giving an open door to the redemption arc. The logical step was having him as this ultimate boss they all had to defeat, The Supreme Leader... That would progressively become more and more disenchanted with it. Snoke is gone, his abuser is finally gone but what can he do about it? He still has all this rage, all this pain. Think of Zuko when he finally "regained" his honor by supposedly killing the Avatar, yet he felt it wasn't worth anything because he had betrayed the only person that cared for him, in Kylo's case it would be the "death" of Leia, the lack of closure on his part with Luke, Han's death and of course, Rey turning his back on him. What does RoS do? NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Sure, Kylo does redeem himself but the way of doing so...

What the hell with Kylo's redemption? Sure, it happened but the execution was awful. If Kylo was to be redeemed it needed to be EARNED. I'll take again Zuko's example: Zuko not only faced remorse that he was lying to the face of everyone and that Azula could rat him out, it all felt empty because all these people had never cared for him, unlike Iroh did— and now Iroh was imprisoned, starving and humiliated in the deepest cell of the Fire Nation because of him. Sure, he regained his honor, but it comes to a point where he himself said it: "I'M MAD AT MYSELF, because I can't tell the difference between right and wrong anymore". Then, he learns of what his grandfather Sozin did to the Avatar, his best friend, and he knows what to do: the only way to truly regain his honor is to right what his family did wrong and help Aang bring balance. He tells Ozai (which funny enough is voiced by Mark himself) a beautiful "The reason you suck" speech and goes out of the palace to help the Gaang and... They don't want him there. They're ready to kill him on the spot because of all Zuko made him went through and Zuko does NOTHING to stop them. He fully accepts the guilt of what he did and shows with actions that he truly means to redeem himself and train Aang. And even then he faces suspicion and prejudice by the whole Gaang at first. Then, on the Sozin's Comet he helps them by defeating Azula with Katara and helping in the search for Aang, and becomes Fire Lord by the end of the series, intending to start a new Era of peace with Aang's help.

What I'm trying to say here is that, if they were trying to redeem Kylo, fine, do it! I know that the fans of the character (which aren't few) and fans of ships like Reylo were rooting for a redemption of Kylo. But if that route was the one to be taken, then Kylo had to, as we say here in my country, "go through a fuck ton of work to do so". He would first need to doubt whether this was the true path for him (something he was already doing), see the true extent of what the First Order was doing, throw a few punches with him and Leia's relationship as well as his relationship with Rey. They needed to work on his reasons to switch to the Light side of the Force in order to do the redemption and yes, we could say they did it with the Reylo, which I'm a fan of. But it was rushed, sloppy, it wasn't earned ffs.

Leia, Han, Luke, and the whole treatment of the original trio in this shtick: I know, I know that Carrie Fisher is dead and everytime I remember it, I kid you not, I cry because she was a wonderful woman that showed me that despite my mental illness I could still do something worthwile with my life, that I could take the pain to do something beautiful with it. And Leia is a wonderful example of a female character. I know that because of Carrie's death they couldn't do a lot with the character— but that is not an excuse then they put a woman on CGI with her face in order to give "closure" to her character, and I'm sorry but if that was closure for Leia then I'm princess Diana. Leia was Kylo's mother, if someone was rooting for Ben to come back then it was her (as well as Rey, but that's something I'll discuss later) and if someone deserved to have a final moment with him, to see him come back, IT WAS HER. Let me explain, as I said before, even the members of the original trio had a journey of their own here: Han's was trying to reach out for a son he didn't always treat right (if not that he outright feared him) and take responsibility as a father; Luke's was coming to terms with what he did, come out of his depression and acknowledge that Ben can indeed come back as well as to take responsibility for his mistakes. Leia's, given her role as a mother figure throughout this trilogy as well as a leader for the rebellion, was learning to accept the help of a new generation and to guide them, as well as trying to reach for her son in order to make him see the true path. If Kylo is Zuko, then Leia is Iroh here (someone should make a fanart of Kylo apologizing to Leia like Zuko did with Iroh btw). But NOPE, her only purpose is to die so that REY has to have compassion for Ben and then let HAN, OF ALL PEOPLE, reach out for Ben. The whole last movies were building for a moment with Kylo and Leia, to have either a confrontation or a reunion and even if they had the means to do so despite Carrie's death, they gave us nothing. Zero. Nada. Leia died being a prop to Rey and not even her arch with the Resistance was closed. What a rip-off!

Why the hell do we have to bring the Emperor back? No, really, fans of Star Wars— why do we have to bring Sheev Palpatine back and WHY did it have to be the way it was handled? You want to him back? Okay, do so, BUT NOT IN A WAY THAT UNDERMINES ANAKIN'S STORY. By bringing Palpatine in a "he was always alive" fashion, not only do we open the door to a fuck ton of plot-holes, but we shit on the entire Original Trilogy and the journey of Anakin Skywalker. He died for nothing, yes, he saved his son— but the Galaxy was still on the clutches of this monster, HIS FAMILY WAS STILL IN DANGER BECAUSE OF HIM. Heck, as much as I think the EU was a mess with overated or downright badly written characters (cofcofMaraJadecofcof) the whole "The Emperor has a clone as a failsafe and thus come back" was a better way to bring him back. You wanted to make Rey the relative of someone important? Make her the Emperor's clone, the future vessel a le Sasuke and Orochimaru— BUT DON'T GIVE ME THIS SHIT.

Also, if Luke knew so well where the Emperor was hidden that he even made a MAP to him, why didn't he grab Leia (who's now an even better Jedi than he was, apparently), went to Exegol and beated the shit out of his old butt? IT WOULD'VE SURELY BEEN MORE BADASS THAN THIS.

Rey is now a damn Mary Sue: coming back to the theater with my friends, we joked that Rey is the maid of your grandfather that ends up being the one is given everything after your grandpa's death.

The last movie, Rey was given the harsh truth as well as us: not only were her parents pieces of shit that never cared about her, thus not coming back— but us, as viewers, were given the truth that there was no mystical lineage of heroes to explain her powers, that she was just... A nobody. She was the underdog, the Foil to Kylo's ascendancy of heroes and villains and all around famous people. Rey had always dreamed that her blood family would come back, that someone else would come and sweep her away from her personal hell— only to learn, from someone like Kylo, that no one was going to do so except for her. And it was a fucking amazing character arc!

But reddit theorist don't care about any of that. SHE CAN'T BE THAT POWERFULL UNLESS SHE IS SOMEONE'S DAUGHTER! And thus, we shit on the last two movies, her character and her development in order of pleasing people that couldn't stand her being the Jedi of the trilogy in first place.

Not only are her parents now tragic heroes that tried to save her (then why LEAVE HER WITH SOMEONE LIKE THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE? 👀), but the worst part is that they try to give us a "the family you make is more important than the one that birthed you" by her taking on the Skywalker name. Despite having her entire relationship with Ben going back to nothing on this movie and only kissing him at the end.

AND EVEN IF SHE TOOK ON HIS NAME, IT WOULD'VE BEEN "REY SOLO". ARE THEY EVEN LOOKING AT WHAT THEY'RE WRITING?

Rey deserved better than to be the fullfilment of dudebro's complaints and reddit theories.

This movie pulls ALL the punches: say whatever you want about The Last Jedi, but that movie had BALLS unlike Rise of Skywalker. C3PO can lose his memories in order to help the Resistance? DON'T WORRY, HE HAS A BACK UP. Chewie might be dead because of Rey, and thus opening the door for interesting character development as well as an emotional moment for us all? FUCK THAT NOISE, HE WAS ON ANOTHER SHIP. And now, Rey is a Palpatine, Ben dies because WHY THE FUCK NOT, and thus we ensure a narrative so paint by the numbers that would leave everyone happy, right?

The whole fucking Sequel Trilogy was about making a new path, taking risks and opening a new age— even if that meant to let go of the past (heck, it is said in TLJ). See it for yourself: TFA has a Stormtrooper deflecting, the death of HAN SOLO, and a woman who is a nobody being more powerful than the grandson of Anakin Skywalker; TLJ almost kills Leia, they tell us that Luke is responsible for Ben going to the Dark Side of the Force because of his paranoia, the Rebellion is left in shambles, Rey learns that her parents were alcoholics and are dead, and Luke sacrifices himself.

"But Leia died—" Leia died because Carrie is dead, Karen. Otherwise I bet you that she would've lived like Lando did.

We're so feminist and woke!... Or are we?: let's see: Rose Tico, because bigoted morons are a big sector of this fandom sadly, almost doesn't appear in this movie. In fact, she doesn't even talk to Finn despite the fact that the last movie build up to them being love interest.

They introduce us to the character of Zorrie, who appears like an old flame of Poe but doesn't stop her to being a person that would put herself above others— even if it means to throw them under the bus. That would make for an interesting character! But nope, she is only there to be an exposition bot for Poe and making him look good.

They introduce us to Jannah, a woc that like Finn, used to be a Stormtrooper and has fled the First Order and went into hiding, alongside people like her because of the sheer fear they have of being found. That would make for a kick ass plot were they regain their fight spi— but no, she's only there to make Finn look special.

This movie (and like many Disney live actions) appears to be "woke" in order to ensure a better box office, but that is— they look the part but don't exactly play the part. They only use this movements in order to further their own sales— they don't care about representation because, with what they did to Rose, they show you that the moment representation stops selling tickets they'll throw it out of the window.

If you agree and have more to say.

#anti tros #Anti ros #anti the rise of skywalker #anti rise of skywalker #anti rey skywalker #anti rey palpatine #Star wars #rey of jakku #reylo #Ben solo #kylo ren #leia organa #This movie was a mess and i can't keep quiet anymore #Anti star wars fandom

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january-summers · 5 years

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NotThatBad Continuation of the #notthatbad prompt fill by @swpromptsandasks Summary: Obi-Wan can take care of himself just fine, he's been doing it for years, during the Clone Wars, a rumour starts up that he doesn't eat or sleep. Obi-Wan and those close to him, begin to realise the rumour has a down side.

“Obi-Wan!” Quinlan Vos's voice carried down the Temple hallway, and Obi-Wan had to resist rolling his eyes, he could practically hear the grin in Quinlan's voice.

“Hello Vos,” Obi-Wan said drily as he slowed and turned to the other Jedi. He was right, Quinlan was grinning. The man caught up with Obi-Wan, one hand tucked suspiciously behind his back.

Quinlan's grin eased into a smirk, “is that any way to great someone who brought you a present?”

“Is it legal?” Obi-Wan shot back, having known Quinlan long enough to know better.

“That hurts Obi, cuts me real deep,” the hurt in his voice was fake, betrayed by the grin Quinlan couldn't quite hide. “Not sure you deserve your gift now.”

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing, but the mischief in Quinlan's eyes was friendly, a hint of a familiar doting he hadn't seen in so long he'd almost forgotten what it looked like. So Obi-Wan gave a faint pout, and shifted so he could give Quinlan a coy look through his lashes.

“But I'm small and tired and deserve nice things,” Obi-Wan said, a line that was once a frequent occurrence in his vocabulary. One he hadn't said in years, not since Naboo, not since Anakin, not since he and Quinlan had agreed...

Quinlan snorted, his eyes darting over Obi-Wan's form at the memories, but his eyes fixed on Obi's face when he brought out the box he'd been hiding.

Curiosity, recognition, delight.

Who ever said Obi had a perfect sabacc face didn't know him very well.

“Sugared plums?” Obi-Wan took the box carefully, opening the lid to enjoy the sweet aroma of the preserved fruit. “Thank you Quinlan.”

“Nah, was in the neighbourhood, saw them and thought of you,” Quinlan snorted, “of course, with that rumour floating around, a lot of people are thinking of you, and not in the best way.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I was afraid of that.” Obi-Wan closed the box, his brow furrowing, and he missed Quinlan's heavy frown as Obi-Wan put off eating one of his favourite treats.

“I mean, not that I mind an excuse to dote on you again,” Quinlan said with a shrug, “but I don't like what this rumour is doing for your image.”

Obi-Wan seemed to do a second take, tilting his head as he stared at Quinlan with a contemplative look.

“What?” Quinlan asked, and the air around them took on a weight of seriousness.

“Am I to take it then,” Obi-Wan asked slowly, “that you are not the one to start the rumour?”

Quinlan shook his head, “no, I'm not.”

The air pressed heavier for a moment, like the force was trying to call out in a muffled voice.

“But I'll look into it for you,” Quinlan promised, and the air eased.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said. He opened his mouth to say something else, the first syllable on his lips, when his comm. went of. “Yes?”

“General,” the voice of a clone responded, “the hover car is ready in hangar 3.”

“Thank you Cody, I'll be down shortly, I was... mildly delayed.”

“Yes sir,” the comm. chirped as Commander Cody, turned off his side of the link.

Quinlan felt a twinge of jealousy, and released it quickly into the force. But not fast enough apparently, Obi-Wan caught the frown on his face.

“I thought you liked Cody?”

Quinlan shrugged, “he's alright, for a clone. Very... competent.”

Obi-Wan frowned, then sighed, “I have a meeting at the rotunda, excuse me.”

“Yeah,” Quinlan watched Obi-Wan walk away, the box of sugar plums still closed in his hands. He let the force sink into him, ease the burn of jealousy that threatened to bloom. It wasn't entirely unfounded, Jango Fett had been a very attractive man, and Cody was a very competent commander.

And Obi-Wan liked competent men who could lift him with one arm.

But they'd agreed years ago...

Quinlan growled to himself and shook his head. He had the source of a rumour to track down.

Cody didn't particularly like the rotunda, the people changed their appearance so often, and they almost never looked at his brothers like they were people. There were a few who did, who spoke with his vode and tried to remember their names, to varying degrees of success.

Still, there was always a looming feeling that they weren't really welcome there, a sense of discomfort that Cody couldn't quite put his finger on.

The more he got to know his jetii, the more he could see the man felt uncomfortable here too. As they had walked together towards senator Organa's chambers, Kenobi had let out a small hum, the one Cody had come to learn meant 'I've noticed something and I don't like it, but it's not a problem just yet.'

Then Cody had caught the snatches of conversation, the senators and their aides in the halls, whispering and looking at his jetii.

'Don't you think he looks tired?'

It wasn't concern for Kenobi in their voices, it was judgement.

As the pair had approached the door to senator Organa's office, Cody had excused himself, confident in his jetii's ability to defend himself, and confident in the crimson marked vode who patrolled the halls.

“Is everything alright?” Kenobi had asked.

“Yes sir, I just need to check in with some brothers, nothing for you to worry over sir.”

Kenobi gave him a dubious look, but said "alright, I'll comm. you if you aren't back when I'm ready to leave."

“Understood, have fun with your meeting,” beneath his helmet Cody felt heat in his cheeks, but Kenobi had given him a wry grin, pleased by his boldness rather than annoyed. As they'd parted Cody had let himself smile in the safety of his buy-ce.

Kenobi had always welcomed their boldness, their reach for individuality. He hadn't even minded their presumption to feed him, had merely accepted their care, unneeded though it was. Sometimes Cody though his jetii might even understand what his acceptance of their care meant to them.

For them to not only have a jetii, but to have one who understood them...

Cody wasn't going to let a rumour turned foul damage his jetii's reputation, and while Cody didn't have the time to track the source down himself, he knew a vod who could do the job for him.

The door to the security room opened just before he reached it and he marched through, removing his helmet as his vode greeted him. He let a grin flicker across his face as Jun gave Beck a glare.

Beck gestured to the monitors which showed the hallway just outside the room, but Jun scowled.

“Just because you know who's at the door doesn't mean you open it,” Jun huffed before turning to Cody, “sir, what can we do for you?”

“I was looking for Tutti,” Cody said, and the vod in question looked over from his console, a cluster of small star tattoos marking a line under his left eye.

“Sir?”

“Tutti,” Cody's gaze fixed on him, “top scores in splicing and our psychological war fare unit,” Tutti nodded, not sure where the commander was going with this. “I need you to look into something for me.”

Palpatine sat back in his chair and watched as the senators before him squabbled. The topic of conversation was the same one that was making its way not only through the rotunda, but the general public: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“We can't trust a man like that with our troops!”

“Yes we can!”

“If he can't even take care of himself-”

“It was a mistake to give so much military power to the Jedi, they can't handle it!”

Palpatine hid a grin behind his steepled fingers, enjoying the negative emotions that littered the air, and taking pleasure from the lost faith that was growing steadily throughout the republic.

He'd never liked Kenobi, or the man's ability to banish the darkness Sheev was trying to cultivate in young Skywalker.

This really had been his most brilliant plan yet, and yet it had been so simple. A word here, a word there, a few leaked pictures of Kenobi at his worst and now the republic he'd fought so hard to hold together would tear him apart.

If he'd been alone, Palpatine would have cackled.

“-Kenobi must be removed from power before he makes a mistake!”

Perhaps it was time for another 'secretarial mistake', another influx of incorrectly assigned paperwork finding its way to Kenobi would be the icing on today's cake.

Obi-Wan adjusted his robe as he let Bail's door close behind him, he used the motion to disguise another as he rolled his shoulders to release tension from the muscles. With the war, diplomacy often found itself being thrown out the window in favour of more aggressive tactics, so it was nice to use his training to help Bail with a small negotiation in which the biggest risk was stiff muscles from sitting too long.

“Sir,” Obi-Wan turned to the familiar voice to find Cody marching down the hallway.

“Excellent timing commander, I was just about to comm.” Cody dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Have you finish your business with your brother?”

“Yes sir, all taken care of,” there was a mild tension in Cody's shoulders that told Obi-Wan a different story.

“Good, shall we then?” Obi-Wan gestured down the hall and Cody nodded, falling into step with Obi-Wan as they returned to the car. Their driver for the day – a clone whose name was Blink if Obi-Wan was remembering correctly – was drumming a beat on the dashboard when the arrived.

“Not to bored I hope?” Obi-Wan said, startling the young clone.

“Sirs!” He scrambled out of the vehicle and opened the rear door.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said as he slid into the back seat, moving far enough over for Cody to join him. Cody followed, but only after looking at their driver for a long few seconds. Obi-Wan got the feeling Blink was being scolded, and from the blush on his uncovered face, Blink seemed to feel that way too.

“It's not a short trip back if you want to catch a nap, sir,” Cody said, his voice filtered through his helmet.

“Hm, not a bad idea,” Obi-Wan replied with a small smile, lifting his hood up and over his head, he settled into a more comfortable position. Cody was close to him, his armour hard against Obi-Wan's side, but the man himself was warm, his presence within the force was soothing to Obi-Wan's senses.

'Cody would speak up if he minded,' Obi-Wan thought as he let his head rest on the commander's shoulder.

Cody stayed as still as possible, signing for Blink to drive a little slower than necessary on his way back to the Temple.

Blink nodded, and not only drove a little slower, but a little more cautiously, making sure to rock the vehicle as little as possible.

Cody spent the trip resisting the urge to remove his bucket and lay his head against his jetii's. Kenobi was his commanding officer, and his jetii on top of that, he wouldn't appreciate it. Cody would just have to be content with this.

His gaze caught on their reflection in the vehicle's rear view mirror.

'I wish they could see him like this, like we do, they wouldn't doubt him then.' An idea occurred to Cody then, and he used his helmet to capture the image in the mirror.

'Perhaps they can see him as we do.' Moving carefully so that he didn't wake his jetii, Cody tapped out a message for the other commanders. He would speak to the 212th himself, if he could get them on board, that would be half the work done.

#swpromptsandasks #notthatbad #codywan #quiobi #Clone Wars #clone wars fanfiction #the author is very nervous about their first star wars fic

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Psycho Analysis: Emperor Palpatine

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then came the sequels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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