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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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we're not kids anymore.
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@gritandfiction
Hey. Question. Does anyone else feel like the Star Wars fandom tends to over-glorify Qui-Gon and that him living through TPM still wouldn’t have been enough to keep Anakin from falling?
I’ve argued with a friend about it and they keep saying I’m wrong but idk… it’s kind of a gut feeling.
I don’t usually release fan fiction but thought I might. Please be nice, I haven’t actually seen the OG trilogy and am working my way through the Clone Wars. So have a kind of fix-it fic. Might post on AO3, I never have so I’m not sure. Also, I forgot Tumblr did paragraph breaks and not actual indents.
Fic under cut
Obi-Wan staggered inside the room, staring down at what had happened. His side bled into his light-colored robes, staining the sandy color into something more sinister.
Mace Windu’s communicator had been on. Obi-Wan had heard all that transpired, and by the force had it hurt. Hearing the way Palpatine had twisted the man who was once his Padawan, his brother, the man he had practically raised, stabbed him in a place deeper than the heart.
“What have I done?…”
Obi-Wan stepped in just in time to see Anakin sit down, face in shock. He heard Palpatine scream it- “Power, unlimited power!”
And that fear, the disturbance in the force and the way it sang, but not in the good way, the way one’s teeth sing after lightning strikes too close and the world splits open for a brief second, that fear, struck deeper than any grief or guilt Obi-Wan had previously dealt with.
“Anakin.”
His hand was still on his side, trying to staunch a wound inflicted to him by a trooper as they flew back to Coruscant. It was potentially lethal- he knew that if he went much longer without medical attention, his chances of survival would drop drastically.
“Stop, Anakin, and think for a second. Please.”
Palpatine swung around, robes swirling like a maelstrom. Rage overtook his already distorted features seeing the famed Jedi negotiator.
“He is a Sith. More than capable of reaching through the Force in order to suck Padmé’s life force, to give you misleading visions of her death. Anakin, we can save Padmé’s life. We would not just let her die! She doesn’t have to die, Anakin. I’m begging you- don’t do this.”
Palpatine snarled, reaching a hand out towards Obi-Wan, preparing to strike him down the same way he struck down Mace Windu.
Anakin slowly put his hands into his hair, gripping it so tight the knuckles turned white. His lips slowly moved.
“No- no. She was going to die, I saw it. I saw it!”
Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, ready to deflect the Sith lightning. His mind reeled- of course his former Padawan was married, of course he had an almost obsessive relationship with her, of course he was unstable right now. A little voice whispered in his heart, the musings of a man approaching the gallows.
But you knew. You knew when you took him on that he was simply not cut out to be a good Jedi. He was too old, had formed too many attachments, had too much anger. He should have gone to a mind healer before this point. What did you miss? Why didn’t you fix this?
And of course, the omni-present voice that always haunted him, no matter what he did.
You’re a failure, Kenobi.
He went to speak, to reassure Padmé will live, but the lightning struck before he could say anything and the force of the strike physically forced him back a step.
Palpatine looked at Obi-Wan.
“He’s trying to turn you against me, Anakin. Her death will be unavoidable if it is the will of the Force, but we can bring her back. Remember Darth Plageuis the wise!”
“I can’t lose her…”
Obi-Wab found his voice, side screaming out in pain. His head was getting light.
“You won’t, Anakin. Not if you help me stop him. Remember; it was a Sith who killed Qui-Gon. A Sith who took him away from you. Palpatine wants you to be a Sith too. What wouldn’t he do?”
Perhaps even this very Sith.
The thought shook him to his core. To think that Palpatine could have sent Darth Maul…
But he couldn’t tell Anakin that. That would definitely sound like he was lying to him to turn him against Palpatine.
Anakin looked between them, torn, careening between what he knew, what he was learning, and what he believed.
Obi-Wan was his brother. Palpatine was offering- well, everything. Padmé was everything.
“What if she dies, Obi-Wan? I can’t lose her.”
He stumbled backwards as the lightning let up, but then Palpatine was on him with a red lightsaber, one strike coming after another. Obi-Wan could feel his strength failing.
“She won’t die, Anakin. Not if a Sith was sapping her life.”
He was going to lose this battle. Maybe to both of them. Anakin would fall, becoming a Sith Lord, and Palpatine would seize the galaxy. Obi-Wan would die.
“Anakin, please. Don’t do this- it doesn’t have to be this way. Let me help you. We can-“
Suddenly he felt himself fly back, slamming into the wall with a force hard enough to crack something in his torso, pain screaming throughout his back and arm. A silver tube flew across the room- his lightsaber.
He was now unarmed, lying on the ground, his own blood slowly pooling onto the ground.
Anakin watched, wide eyed, moving to help his former master. Friend. Brother.
Someone he loved. Not the same as Pamdé, but almost just as much.
“No!”
Palpatine hissed, throwing his hands out. Suddenly, every bone, muscle, and nerve in Obi-Wan’s body screamed, muscles seizing and contracting, Sith lightning coursing through every part of his body.
Anakin looked at his former master, slightly smoking, and suddenly heard his voice in his head.
Is this the honor you want? The honor that would kill an unarmed, gravely injured man?
Obi-Wan’s body was still twitching, his eyes blasted far back into his head, only the whites showing from beneath a sliver of eyelids. Anakin felt his gorge rise in the back of his throat.
“He was unarmed. Injured. You still attacked him.”
“He was a Jedi, and still had use of the Force, Anakin. He would have hurt me.”
Anakin’s anger flared. Its sting was ever familiar and followed him around like a ghost.
“He wasn’t trying to hurt you! He was trying to talk- to me! Not to you! You didn’t have to attack him!”
Anakin could save Padmé. He was finally starting to see sense- Palpatine was a Sith. Palpatine would bring ruin to the galaxy, everything Padmé worked so hard for.
And Obi-Wan was- oh, Force, he might not even be alive anymore. Anakin felt the sudden need to check on him, to make sure he wasn’t lost, to make up his mind on whose side he was on.
“…did you give me those dreams about Padmé? Were you draining her life force?”
He slowly circled around Palpatine… Sidious.
Palpatine wasn’t Palpatine. He was Sidious.
His teeth were clenched. Flesh-and-blood hand trembling. Everything tense and ready for an attack, his soul tearing at itself like two wolves entrenched in a fight.
“Of course not.”
But his voice didn’t sound genuine. And it made too much sense.
Anakin was supposed to be the Chosen One- the special one, something any Sith would want a part of. And he wasn’t a true Jedi, he had attachments, he had Padmé. Something that made him easily manipulated.
“But you’d hurt an unarmed, injured man.”
Some other hand was guiding his mind now, a part of his consciousness he had not yet met. It felt maybe vaguely familiar, like someone he’d met long ago.
“If you’d hurt an unarmed, injured man, what would you do to get to me?”
Palpatine’s face grew twisted.
“Who knew you could be sensible? Fine- then I will drain Padmé’s life force unless you work for me, do what I want when I want it.”
Anakin’s face grew cold. His blood ran as ice does.
Corpses littered around them.
“This isn’t what I want. You promised me you would save her. She doesn’t need saving. And I never wanted to kill for this!”
Blue ignited in front of his face, lightsaber pushing away the darkness.
“Step back from Obi-Wan.”
Anakin was torn between the urge to kill Sidious, to back him into a corner like Windu did, and the urge to carry Obi-Wan and find help for him.
“We could have ruled the galaxy together.”
Anakin barely managed to block the Sith lightning coming at him, but he felt the Force push with him, roiling and fighting between the two of them.
“I trusted you, Palpatine!”
“And that would have been your downfall!”
Their lightsabers slammed together again, red flaring against blue with unparalleled power and anger in both men.
“You helped Padmé! Why would you do this?!”
“The galaxy needs an empire, not a republic!”
He hissed as the thought ran through his head.
“Maybe you’re right, but nobody should ever become that powerful. You talk of us trying to seize power but then you take it yourself.”
Another strike and a parry, moving faster than the ships that Anakin flew, almost faster than light.
Anakin held his hand out, wrenching control of the force from Palpatine and yanking against his lightsaber, praying to the Force for its help.
Palpatine’s lightsaber whipped away from his hands, but suddenly caught midair. Palpatine had his own hand out, trying to call his lightsaber back to him.
They both wrangled with the force, trying to gain purchase- Palpatine’s strength was failing. The amount of power he had used already was exhausting- now fighting The Chosen One was sapping too much of his strength.
Maybe he could win another day, but not after the feat he had pulled.
Today was for defeat.
Within a second, Palpatine let go and dashed for the window.
“No-!”
Anakin cried out, but Sidious was gone, having jumped over the ledge of the window and into the traffic below.
“You-!”
But before Anakin could rage in Sidious’s escape, another thought hit him.
“Obi-Wan!”
The older man was still limp on the ground, although the twitching was slowly coming to a close. The Sith lightning had nearly run its course.
Anakin dropped to his knees next to his former master, placing a hand to his forehead, feeling for his life in the Force. He was quiet- barely there.
But…
He had a pulse.
He was alive.
“Obi-Wan?”
He was still breathing, but blood kept pooling. Anakin’s heart stuttered in his chest- he tore off a piece of the sleeves of his tunic, using it to staunch the flow. He’d already lost so much blood.
“Come on- come on, come on, come on.”
His shaking fingers jammed into his communicator, trying to contact someone, anyone.
“This is Anakin Skywalker. We have an injured Jedi- I need help, as soon as possible.”
He kept pressing on Obi-Wan’s side, praying to the Force that Obi-Wan would just wake up. That he would just open his eyes.
Maybe he could move him- try to get him to the healers at the Jedi Temple. Carry him in like he had countless other times when missions went awry.
What other options did he really have?
He gathered the older man into his arms and ran for the nearest transport, careful to keep a hand pressed to the wound.
He’d lost Qui-Gon. He was worried about losing Padmé- he couldn’t lose Obi-Wan and stay sane. He just couldn’t.
Wait- Pamdé- Sidious-
He could go after her if he lived through this ordeal, and Anakin would be stuck with Obi-Wan, trying to get him to medical help.
Oh, Force, were things falling apart.
Just recently got into Star Wars, lemme tell you something.
I’m a diehard Firefly fan. Between Star Wars and Star Trek? Firefly. Firefly has much better written female characters, which I appreciate as a chick.
Case en pointe: I’ve been ranting to everyone about Padmé’s death. Padmé’s a badass up until her death. Yeah, I know she suffered two huge blows right before she died, what with the republic she’s been fighting her whole life for collapsing and then her husband turning to the dark side, but you’re telling me she didn’t want to stick around for her kids? Those kids she was so ready to love?
And she just dies. Of a broken heart. Like some stupid damsel in distress. Because yeah, that makes sense for her character. Queen Padmé Amidala, who’s a force of the Force in her own right, just dies because her heart can’t take it anymore. Like c’mon, Mr. Lucas.
What would have made sense? Having Vader force choke her into brain death and an emergency C-Section. A lot of narrative fulfillment potentially. So much you could do with that. Or having her die of complications during birth. She’s a smaller woman, it’s not a completely outrageous possibility. Almost any other death would have been better for her character. But yeah. Just shoot her character, not even mercifully like Old Yeller. Character assassination at its finest.
A story out there for y’all needing some joy:
I’m an Eagle Scout. Coincidentally, I’m a female in the United States- girls were only allowed to join Scouting America (the Boy Scouts) in 2019. I was one of the first to sign up.
Now, for the uninitiated, any and all troops must have a charter- a sponsoring organization that loans them space and resources and generally provides what they need.
My troop (a female troop) was originally “linked” to the oldest boy’s troop in town, but we didn’t even meet in the same space as them, and our charter was a Methodist church. It’s a long story and nobody’s really at fault, but we didn’t jive. Then, one day, I met the post commander for an American Legion post at an event I happened to be at as a Scout. Loved the guy- I knew then and there I wanted our troop to switch charters. Six months later, we did.
Now, American Legions are generally old people- Vietnam Era Vets, 1 or 2 Korean War vets, and some more recent Desert Storm and middle eastern vets. They weren’t really sure about us- we were a girl’s troop, and we’d raise the electricity bill for the post. What were they going to do with us?
The answer, by the way, was love us. Sometimes the folks just show up at our meeting to watch us. For most of them, their kids have left the nest and so it’s nice to have youth around. We went from the people sharing the building to THEIR troop. Their girls. We have one of the closest relationships with our charter in this region.
When Scouting changed it’s name in February, some of those old folks- old, conservative people who would have grumped about “going woke” when girls were allowed to join- were more excited than our girls were. Whereas people online endlessly complained about the name going from “Boy Scouts of America” to “Scouting America” (which follows the trend of scouting around the world,) these old folks were excited, and ready to see us recognized. Some of them are a little confused, but they’ve got the spirit.
Y’know, when people write “What If?” Fanfics about The Outsiders, they always ask “What if Ponyboy was the one who died because of that fire instead of Johnny?”
But I’ve been wondering, what if the Socs really had drowned Pony in the fountain that fateful evening? What if they’d beaten Johnny to unconsciousness, and there was nothing he could do? Do they also run off to Windrixville? Are they feeling guilty? Would they ever face any consequences? (Let’s be honest- rich white kids in the 50’s? No way.) The story would be so different.
Either way, I don’t have a fic at this time ✌🏻if anyone’s interested I might tho
Rock on🤘
Mr. Mercury, I am tired of waiting for the hammer to fall.
Currently crying over the National Park Service and National Forest Service layoffs, don’t mind me.
I will NOT stand for Sam Winchester slander
Although I don’t think he was, as a character, used to his full potential. But it’s not like he hates Dean (although he has to, just a little bit) because they’re two sides of the same coin. They were both trapped. Sam was going to break the cycle that Dean couldn’t see. Sam was going to be the gold star and I think a lot of his dynamics with Dean were sorely misused or underutilized or overdramatized.
Do I think I could write Sam better? Probably not.
Do I think he could be? Absolutely.
Just finished IWTV Season 2, and look, I understand that Daniel and Armand are endgame in the books (which I haven’t gotten around to actually finishing the books, I made it to the Vampire Lestat…)
But it must have been HORRIFYING for Daniel to be turned the way he was. Last thing he hears of Armand is “If you touch him, I’ll kill you,” and then when he returns home he gets turned by that same guy. Part of that process includes draining the new fledgling. Daniel must have thought he was dying.
Why do so many people just pretend that it wasn’t awfully traumatic? Like yeah, being given The Dark Gift is just that, a gift, but even Lestat has scars from his making.
Was watching IWTV S2E4, and Louis and Armand were fighting, and my sister was listening to I Walk The Line by Johnny Cash in the kitchen but it was faint so I thought it was from the show… WHOO BOY that would have been a hell of a shot if it had actually had I Walk the Line playing in the background.
So I do marksmanship as an actual sport (not archery, not trap/skeet, but the rifle and pistol) and I had to calculate a problem in AP Physics 1 that was asking about velocity and bullet drop, and the problem, it mentioned that the bullet was 0.02 meters vertically beneath it’s aim point after traveling 50 meters horizontally.
So I turned to my teacher, and I had to ask, “Did they miss, or is this bullet drop?”
I simply could not fathom that no, that didn’t mean the marksman missed. The answer was, in fact, bullet drop.
And so I thought about it longer and said, “I’m actually pretty sure I can get you the equation for both bullet drop and bullet velocity.”
“gritandfiction, you’re making this too hard. It’s just a simple physics problem.”
Ha! But little does she know
Physics is never simple
Reblogging this now because I dropped her class
My power over you
Grows stronger yet
Whaaaaat?
Inside you there are two wolves
One wants a pet crow
The other wants to preserve the sanctity of nature and maintains that crows are wild animals and NOT pets
DC inspired crossover/au
A collection of very old half finished doodles Not sure if I'll ever do anything more with this so might as well post them
|| Soap/Harley Quinn | Ghost/Poison ivy | Gaz/Catwoman ||
Cringe but free
Ugh I love this
fitz is so augh. he's broken, but he's keeping it together. his ex was neglecting him throughout their relationship, but he was doing everything for her. he wants to conform to society. he's struggling to break free of the norm. he won't let anyone walk all over him, but he's still letting it all go to his head. he's everything. he's nothing (but a vacker). do people care about fitz, or about fitz vacker? do people care about fitz, or about alvar's brother? he's angry, he's sad, he's perfect, he's flawed. he's a guy smashed into pulp and then reshaped into something else.
THIS
I WANT A STORY FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE
So I do marksmanship as an actual sport (not archery, not trap/skeet, but the rifle and pistol) and I had to calculate a problem in AP Physics 1 that was asking about velocity and bullet drop, and the problem, it mentioned that the bullet was 0.02 meters vertically beneath it’s aim point after traveling 50 meters horizontally.
So I turned to my teacher, and I had to ask, “Did they miss, or is this bullet drop?”
I simply could not fathom that no, that didn’t mean the marksman missed. The answer was, in fact, bullet drop.
And so I thought about it longer and said, “I’m actually pretty sure I can get you the equation for both bullet drop and bullet velocity.”
“gritandfiction, you’re making this too hard. It’s just a simple physics problem.”
Ha! But little does she know
Physics is never simple
A tiny comics for your feels.
I'm sorry
Yes, right in the feels. Good job.
