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@jedhans
elsa. she/her. twenty-two. follows back from @corriinos. low activity.
𝐉𝐄𝐃𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐒 — an independent, indie portrayal of characters that live within the 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒔 universe.
carrd. promo. headcanons. writing sample. optional interest tracker. thread tracker.
his heart sang of long repressed agony, of thoughts that had burst into full bloom among other flora surrounding the two. a frown of gentle worry had settled on the senator's brows as she waited for elias to allow his eyes a moment of rest that'd hopefully reach his 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝 heart, too. it was only natural of him to instinctively carry this enormous weight of responsibility and concern on his chest, of course, but no dream of the better future should get crushed beneath its might. he deserved his hope, every single drop of it, to pump through his veins like a second essence of life itself — these were padmé's thoughts while she studied his features and breathed steadily, soundly through her nose in case he'd find calming his own ones easier by matching them with hers. with her hand still reassuringly stroking the side of his arm, thumb softly drawing soothing patterns against the warm cotton of his tunic's sleeve, she spoke a silent there you go, one more.
his shared thoughts shifted from sounds to other sensations, all of them coexisting in a melancholy harmony, and padmé hoped that giving a voice to something mundane would act as a grounding element to him. with her hand joining the other delicate one in her lap again, a thoughtful hum rose on padmé's tongue before her lips parted, ❝ hm... i can hear the songs of summer crickets and the sounds our breaths. i feel the soils beneath our feet, strong and so very rich with life, and the feeling of your arm lingering as a physical memory on my palm. ❞ the 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 she sensed managed to be both ordinary and fascinating at once, and far more genuine than originally intended.
❝ but above all else, i can hear the calls of hope ❞, she continued confidently. ❝ don't get me wrong, elias. i too am familiar with immeasurable worry and agony, exhaustion even, but mortal wisdom is exactly what the galaxy needs in its darkest moments. ❞ with her chin raised, her doe eyes met the skies above, ❝ it's the power and abilities of people like you and i that frightens many, and on the other hand, it is powerlessness against the evil that makes us terribly restless. ❞ padmé's attention shifted back to 𝐡𝐢𝐦. ❝ so. would you rather remain who you are now or become an all knowing entity ? ❞
The Force filled the air around them, allowing Elias to feel in touch, in tune with his surroundings. Its particles ebbed and flowed, steadying him, stabilizing him amidst the storm of turbulence that waged within him, threatening to envelop him, to swallow him whole and leave nothing – not even a small, seemingly insignificant trace – behind. Said storm did not wilt or waver in the slightest. If anything, its existence grew all the more pure and palpable, spinning tales of blood and battle, of death and destruction, because they were close – so close – to finding a semblance of peace.
Something told him that said semblance could be shattered, splintered into a million seemingly unmendable pieces, and gods, would that be cruel. Because they had spent hours upon hours working toward peace and prosperity, doing anything and everything in their power to unite the galaxy once more. Those hours would mean nothing if the Republic died, meeting a dark, damned demise. The kind of demise from which they could never recover.
He tried to ignore such thoughts, pushing their existence into the deepest, darkest depths of his chest cavity, which was far easier said than done. Padmé’s presence was comforting, though, for while she so often donned a mask of neutrality, she was still a soft, summery light in the Force.
“I wish I could hear those calls,” he breathed, his tones somewhat sad, somber. The conversation took a turn, though, once her question filled the air, trickling his ears. “Of course, I want to learn as much as I can, and become the best man and Jedi possible. But to crave so much knowledge is to go down a dangerous path.”
HE WASN'T ABOUT TO AGREE WITH HER. Doing so would put a target on his back. "The Republic represents freedom of choice. What else is there?" Play a good little Jedi. Keep your head down and don't have Palaptine suspect your suspicions. His eyes darted to Seryn then. Hands in his robes, he stood there quickly. No one needed to know he suspected Palapatine to be something more than a politician. Not all politicians were cunning and carved power. Some of those who appeared harmless where the most harmful. Anakin knew this much and constantly reminded himself of Master Windu's instructions.
"Such ways of thinking could deem yourself as a Separatist." He warned her. He was a mere Jedi. One who was supposed uphold peace first and foremost. Skywalker had been reduced to a solider. There was a time where him and Kenobi did not lead armies. They went on missions for peace, not battlefields. The whole principle was ingrained in him. He was not meant for war. Too much death and pain. It needed to stop and he kept telling himself the time would come when him and Windu went to the council about their suspicions. "The war won't end as long as the Chancellor stays in power." It was the only thing he was going to say. Better to have her think about what was the root cause than to blame the Separatists as a whole.
Seryn should have held her tongue, remaining quiet, silent as a field mouse in the name of survival and self-preservation, because if whispers of their conversation spread, straying and traveling past the seemingly safe, secure confines of the chamber, then a target was bound to be placed upon her back, branding her as a traitor, a turncloak. She knew that. She did, for while the Chancellor droned on and on about duty and decency and democracy, he had shut down any and all who dared to extend an olive branch to the Separatists, hoping to negotiate in the name of peace and prosperity. Some had been prosecuted and punished to the fullest extent of the law, some had been forced into retirement, and some had simply . . . disappeared, dissipating and flying away with the breeze.
It would have been both safer and smarter for her to bide her time, watching, waiting for the greater forces within the galaxy to intervene and bring about a swift end to the war. Such would be a disservice, though. Not only to Jedha but to the Republic.
“Please, do not mistake my intentions, General Skywalker. I believe in the Republic and its institutions with all of my heart . . . but to turn away from its issues would be to disregard my duty,’’ she breathed, running her finger along the rim of her chalice. Her duty was to better the Republic, after all, helping to dissolve its iniquities and injustices. Such grew harder and harder with each passing day, though, because the Senate had slowly but surely handed over its powers onto a pretty, silvery platter to its head, Chancellor Palpatine. Palpatine, who had taken and taken and taken with a pure, almost paternal smile. He had vowed to end the war, bringing a close to the seemingly endless cycle of battle and bloodshed, and yet, he had not.
Anakin’s words, though careful, cautious, were just as dangerous as her own. “He has shown little interest in relinquishing his powers, which grow greater with each passing day.”
“I would do it all for us.” - anakin @ padme
Padmé Amidala Naberrie was many things.
She was a devoted diplomat, who had spent years upon years working to ensure that diplomacy prevailed. Such had grown more difficult as of late, given that thousands of star systems had deemed the Republic a lost cause and seceded, breaking off to form the Confederacy of Independent Systems. She had not wilted or wavered in the slightest, though. If anything, her convictions had been confirmed, cemented in reality, thus demanding that she continue on, pushing both herself and those around her to the limits.
Her love for the Republic was palpable, pure as snow, and while she had vowed to dedicate herself to its institutions completely and wholly, a wild, willful Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker had wormed his way into her heart, making a home for himself there. She had been cautious, careful at first due to the dark, dire consequences that would be brought down upon them in the event that their affair was discovered, which was why she had pushed him away, putting a safe, substantial amount of distance between them. That distance had dissipated, disappearing and flying away with the breeze, though, when they had nearly died, passing from this mortal realm onto the next. Such was why she had confessed her feelings, unearthing the love that she had tried so hard to ignore, pushing into the deepest, darkest depths of her chest.
A loyal, loving marriage had followed, but do not be mistaken. There had been bumps, blimps in the road that could very well swallow them, enveloping them whole and leaving nothing – not even a small, seemingly insignificant trace – behind.
“But you don’t have to,” she breathed, her tones soft, syrupy. So much so that one could melt, liquefying and falling down into a puddle on the ground below. “We’re together, we’re safe, and if things continue as they are, we may finally have peace again.”
apologies for dropping off the face of the earth! this semester has been somewhat crazy, but i’ll be returning to normal activity once the spring semester ends. so expect me back around april 25th!
okay i’ll be resurrecting myself once i get a few things sorted out. hopefully by the end of next week
will likely have to wait until sunday to finish and queue replies, since i have 3 exams this week 😣
as the previously silenced matters of concern eventually reached his voice, padmé's gaze lingered, her eyes glistening in both respective caution and curiosity. the 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 of his features and the hint of doubt rewriting his expressions had become a sight quite familiar for the senator to witness during the past few moons that'd flown by so very quickly. he appeared visibly worried now that they were in a peaceful place where only the nature's harmonious sighing could meddle with their shared musings, and in a sense padmé considered herself privileged for being gifted with such a clear sign of trust. opening up to another living being wasn't easy to anyone who had the weight of duty and social etiquette pressing heavy in the base of their spine; and heavy was the blanket of empathy tightly wrapped around her shoulders, too.
as the jedi guided his fingertips closer to the greenery surrounding the bench the two were sitting on, padmé's mind memorized the scene in which he touched the sun-kissed ferns in a manner that she would've described as tender. with her own hands resting in her lap still, brows arching slightly, the look in her eyes softened in understanding and she decided to present a different kind of view. ❝ truthfully speaking, i would've found it more concerning if your usual dutifulness and care had taken a sudden turn towards nonchalance ❞, she offered without any 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭 of beautifying the sense of threat that even now was watching after each and every soul who'd openly stood against the war's brutal greed. ❝ and yet, you'd deserve some calming breaths. new beginnings are nearing and regardless of the shapes they'll end up taking, it is important to recognize what has already been achieved. ❞
a soft sound escaped through her nose then and she freed one hand to touch the side of elias' arm, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze. ❝ oh, it is quite alright ❞, she replied, 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 to shift the focus smoothly from herself to the gardens. ❝ how about we take a moment to anchor our thoughts in the present time ? close your eyes and tell me what you can hear and feel. ❞
continued from here : elias, @jedhans
The garden was a den of nature, spinning tales of all things new and beautiful in the spring. Logically, Elias knew that there, tucked into the deepest, darkest depths of the galaxy’s center, they were safe, as secure as could be, and yet, the theoretical thorn dug into his brain, threatening to cut him, to slice apart his skin and draw forth his ruby red blood. Great efforts had been made to ignore that thorn, pushing its existence down, down, down, but thus far, his efforts had been for naught. Because even though they were close to sorting out terms of peace with the Confederacy, the cycle of battle and bloodshed felt very far from over. Such was confirmed, cemented in reality by the change that had recently come about in the air, causing him to internally flail, floundering like a fish out of water.
“What if those beginnings undo all that we’ve worked so hard to achieve?” he breathed, gnawing his lip ever so slightly. A faint edge of concern lingered beneath his skin, refusing to wilt or waver, even when his eyes slid closed, allowing him to draw deep, steadying breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I . . . I can hear the hum of of the generator, the whirring of the speeders on the levels below. I can feel their vibrations, and the life in the garden. There’s something else, too, though. I just don’t know what.”
Something dark, mayhaps even deadly, as shown by how he sat upward ever so slightly, straightening his spine. “And you? What do you hear and feel, Senator?”
"Senator!" Obi-Wan would hear reprimand for it later, but he was quick to follow and made his pursuit known with a (higher pitched than expected) yelp. "Please, you are not the one who needs to be earning forgiveness. Master Jinn merely pretends to be tactile. Like a brick wall pretending to be a crash pad."
He shot a quick glace behind them, pleased to find Qui-Gon's gaze already averted, though a slight annoyance still hummed in the Force between them. Not unlike many of their assignments, Obi-Wan had sequestered himself to the background, unnoticed and able to track all of his Master's chaotic decisions and less than ideal results. Normally, it took quite a bit for him to step out of the shadows, but he had too much sympathy for the woman's position to keep quiet.
"He only treats you like a youngling because, well, he treats everyone like a petulant child." Without thought, Obi-Wan brushed his padawan braid to behind his ear. He tried not to question his continued role at his Master's side, but it was difficult not to as he watched his friends knighted and taking the next step into their lives. Half of him was sure the fault was his own—still too moody and quick to action (with a supposed taste for war which everyone accused him of)—) but his lesser half was convinced it wasn't him at all. Rather, just a teacher who couldn't see him as an equal, anything beyond the padawan he'd reluctantly taken over a decade ago.
"I would say you get used to it, but hopefully we are out of your hair before you learn to settle." Qui-Gon was an acquired taste, even his own Master had cut contact with him. And his first padawan. And his padawan-brother. Obi-Wan himself was well on the track to as well at the rate they were going.
"He's quite skilled at making you believe otherwise, but you are the one still in charge here. He'd likely go sit in the corner and think about what he's done if you asked him to."
Seryn was scared, frightened beyond words, because the death of her father had caused the galaxy as she knew it to irrevocably change, to be thrown off its axis. Orion had been an anchor, a steadying force who could keep her afloat through anything, even the most turbulent of times. Yes, they had their differences, most of which had originated due to their varying views of Jedhan politics, but above all else, they were family, blood. Nothing could wholly sever their bond, not even when a few of his decisions had cast a dark cloud of uncertainty across their planet.
Why? He was her father. Her father. That was why his loss was profound, causing white-hot pain to be birthed within her. It started as a small, barely perceptible prick behind her eyes, then it spread, causing white-hot pain to explode across her body. She ached, wishing to retreat into herself, but she would not — could not. Seryn had to stay strong, solid as stone, because if she broke down and cried, she was not sure she would be able to stop. Then, she would be worthless, and she could not be worthless. Not if she was to return home and help put an end to the crisis.
It was to this end that Seryn continued on into her apartments, searching for any necessities that could be salvaged. The home she had made in the capital had been broken, battered beyond repair, but she did not dwell on it, did not even give a pause. She did give a pause, however, when the voice of the padawan filled the air, trickling her ears. His accent was thick, making his tones seem prim, polished but also piping.
“You paint quite the portrait of your master, Padawan Kenobi,” she breathed, collecting the items that she could not be without. Her eyes rose, meeting his blue ones, then, “He treats you that way as well, even though you are meant to be his peer?”
The last part may have caused her lip to quirk, turning upward ever so slightly, for while pain weighed upon her, threatening to push her down into the ground below, the thought of ordering a wise, wizened Jedi Master to sit in a corner and think about what he had done was amusing.
“That would be funny, no doubt, but I wouldn’t be so cruel as to ask such a thing of him.”
will be getting replies out once i get this exam out of the way!
my activity will be limited till next weekend cause i have to lock in for a finance midterm
to bring an end to a prolonged silence, a soft hum rose on padmé's lips, her studious gaze shifting from the surrounding greenery to the visitor sitting next to her on an 𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 garden bench. ❝ i have learned that you indeed are many things ❞, the senator stated patiently, head tilting slightly to the side as she offered a thoughtful smile, ❝ but with features so expressive you don't exactly make a convincing liar. do tell, what's making your heart so heavy ? ❞
open starter for mutuals !
Elias was not daft nor dumb. He knew that the Galactic Republic had been slowly poisoned by greed and corruption for decades. Perhaps even longer. When a government was both feeble and ineffectual, its society was as well. Such was why the cold, calculating Count Dooku believed the galaxy needed to be burnt down and rebuilt from the ashes. A complete reconstruction was necessary, which was why he had delivered the Raxus Address, thus marking the beginning of the Secessionist Movement. A multitude of star systems had consequently seceded, flocking to the Confederacy of Independent System like birds.
Three years had passed since then. Three years of death and decay, of violence and viscera that may yet swallow them, enveloping them whole and leaving nothing — not even a small, seemingly insignificant trace — behind.
Elias had done his duty as a Jedi, following out his orders without hesitation or reserve, but as of late, there had been a shift, a change in the air. Said change was small, barely perceptible, but the knowledge of its existence dug into his brain like a thorn, threatening to cut him, to slice apart his skin and draw forth his ruby red blood.
“I’m not completely certain. We’re closer to ending the war than ever before, and yet . . .” he trailed off, absently sliding his fingers along a fern. Its blue-green fronds sprang back slightly from the touch, displaying a responsiveness that spun tales of its health. “And yet, I feel we still haven’t seen the worst of it.”
A beat, then, “Apologies, my Lady. I shouldn’t have turned up unannounced. It’s just that . . . I worry for your safety.”
you don’t need to play dumb with me. i like you better when you’re smart. (whoever is the strongest for you.)
A small, seemingly insignificant moment passed in which Seryn froze, unsure how to proceed, then the moment passed, prompting her to stand taller, straightening her spine ever so slightly. Why had such a shift come about within her, one may wonder? Because she had spent hours upon hours molding herself, making herself into a fabricator, a fabulist who could concoct even the most complex, compounding stories and make them seem believable.
Now, do not be mistaken. She did not enjoy concocting such stories; she had to in the name of self-preservation, because even though the galaxy had made great, near gargantuan strides since the fall of the Empire, they still had a long way to go when it came to the things they did not understand. Such was confirmed, cemented in reality by the fate that would undoubtedly befall her in the event that her true nature was revealed.
She was not a mere human. No, not in the slightest, because she had been made in the image of a woman who had died, passing from this mortal realm onto the next decades ago.
The original Seryn Cerepath was no more, but her replica . . . she was still there, donning both her face and name. Her demeanor . . . not so much, since she had figured out early on that there were many advantages to playing daft.
“What makes you think I’m playing?” she breathed, her tones soft, barely there, because none had seen through her so plainly until now.
josh heuston as constantine corrino in dune: prophecy 1.01
𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 . . . (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐬 — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞) These prompts draw from the emotional depth and symbolism of the Page, Knight, Queen, and King of Cups. Each prompt captures a moment where the sender confesses their love to the receiver. → ∗ ⁽ ¹ ⁾ Find the collection of tarot-based scene starters here!
⁽ * ⁾ 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒 → soft & gentle
"I’ve cared for you far longer than I should have, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”
“Every time I look at you, it feels like the world quiets down. And if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
“I’ve held these feelings for so long, afraid of what might happen if I spoke them.”
“I would do it all for us.”
“You deserve to be held with love and not such content.”
“Please do not treat our love as a forbidden fruit.”
⁽ * ⁾ 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒 → protective & reassuring
“This is for you. I’ve crossed lands, braved storms, and risked everything because I love you.”
“I have risked everything and it was all worth it.”
“Do you think I regret the way I feel? Because I don’t. I can’t. Even if this is the last time I can hold you like this.”
“You cannot dare say you are blind in the way you have bewitched me.”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m simply telling you that no one has ever touched me like you do, and no one ever will. You’ve bound my soul to yours, willingly or not.”
“I killed for you and I dare say I would do it again.”
“Our love is by our own undoing.”
“Nothing will ever happen to you.”
⁽ * ⁾ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒 → forbidden & passionate
“I know we shouldn’t, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want this. My heart has been yours, even if I had to hide it away.”
“There are things in this world I’m willing to risk... and you are the biggest of them. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
“Release me if you truly do not love me.”
“I love you so dearly so”
“I can’t hide it anymore. The fire I feel when I’m near you, the longing in every touch—it's all too much, but it's always been real.”
“Do you think I chose this? I didn't. But here I am, loving you in the way that feels like i'm on fire and yet, I can’t seem to care.”
“I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I knew I shouldn’t"
⁽ * ⁾ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒 → passionate & soul bounding
“My soul cannot be free of you.”
“Look me in the eyes and dare tell me you don't love me back.”
“I’ve spent so long fighting this, pretending I could live without you..”
“My heart doesn’t belong to me anymore. It belongs to you.”
“You think I’m afraid of what’s between us, but I’m not. I’m terrified of what life would be without you. I’ve never felt more alive, more connected, more me than when I’m with you.”
“Love? You're not the love of my life. You are my life.”
feel free to hit up my ask box with a prompt + muse if you want a lil starter ✨
the temptation to add sabé as a muse is real
she's back in this color. i love you costume design
