- A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin (19)
- Batman - All Media Types (9)
- DCU (Comics) (8)
- Marvel Cinematic Universe (5)
- Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (4)
Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types
17 Dec 2020
“What the fuck is this?”
OR: The inhabitants of a galaxy far, far away at long last get to say fuck.
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types
16 Nov 2020
As soon as Dick hears the crack, he knows Damian’s broken something. The boy – stubborn, stupid boy, Dick thinks, fond – tries to walk on what Dick guesses is a broken ankle, apparently testing out the severity of the injury, his face twisted in obvious pain. It’s not until a grunt of low agony escapes him that he resentfully stops, and leans against the alley wall whilst trying to look like he's doing anything but.
Dick resists the urge to bury his face in his hands as he catches sight of the defiant set of Damian’s mouth and the tense slope of his shoulders. This… is going to be difficult.
For Zuko’s entire life, there has been Azula. She is as much a part of him as his own reflection, as the blood pumping through his veins, or the flame that burns in his gut, constant and true.
To hate her is to hate himself, but Zuko’s no stranger to self-hatred.
An AU in which Zuko and Azula are fraternal twins.
In Arctic, Lex and Clark are both buried beneath the collapsing Fortress. What if they weren't? What if the Orb worked just as expected and placed the Traveller under Lex's command?
There was a time when Lex would have given Clark anything. When Lex would’ve carved his own heart out of his chest and laid it in the boy’s hands for safekeeping. And Lex still might, if things were different, if he were different, if Kal-El were anyone else in the world–
It’s cruel, is what it is. Don’t you already know? Kara had said, and Lex had almost wept, because he did, he did. Because there is no such thing as freedom, or love, or friendship, and Lex had let himself forget, and the universe had seen fit to remind him exactly who he was, what he was. Luthor, Jonathan Kent’s shade accuses; monster, Lana’s voice hisses; Lex, Clark said his name, the same way he always did.
- Part 3 of The Road Not Travelled
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
02 Aug 2020
“Damian,” Father says, “you’re done for the night.”
Something ugly twists in Damian’s gut, and he chokes down his protestations even though they burn all the way down his throat. He slams every door on the way up from the cave to his room, still not smelling like his own.
It’s not fair, Damian reflects, angrily pacing around. Everything he said was true, he knew it was, it’s not his fault that Grayson is broken somehow, that he acts like something he’s not. In the League, Grayson would never be on the front lines, he would never even leave the safe confines of grandfather’s harem, properly segregated from those of superior designations. If Grayson were in Nanda Parbat, then Damian would show him just what an omega’s role is, just what an omega is supposed to be.
In which Reginald Hargreeves can almost resemble a passable father figure after Allison helps him along. Who knew the apocalypse could be averted with something as simple as a proper childhood?
Liar! is still the first thing Harry Potter ever says to Lord Voldemort. Quirrell doesn’t know the words, had never met his master with a body and a scribbled-on wrist, but the thing on the back of his head starts, hesitates.
Her wrist, he hisses to Quirrell, before he can stop himself, check her wrist.
Quirrell flicks his wand at Harry’s tied up body, and her right sleeve rises. Her ribbon flutters to the ground. Even Quirrell understands, then. Master, he says, the stutter now long forgotten, Master it says… it says...
Obedient, and terrified, Quirrell turns and the terrible, snake-like face looks down on Harry with those red, red eyes. She scrabbles for her sleeve, a task harder said than done when your arms are trapped at your sides, and she isn’t quick enough. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort reads in his own flawless script, and fury rises in him along with understanding.
Robin and Vlad meet again in the future. In the style of a cheesy made for TV rom-com.
(I have a ton more YD stuff - you can find story summaries, etc, by clicking HERE.)
Bookmarked by mayfriend
22 Apr 2021
Vlad looked so vulnerable Robin found himself unable to summon the righteous anger he so wanted to. Instead he touched a hand to Vlad's, swallowing at how cold it was. Vlad looked up carefully, gauging his reaction. After a moment Vlad moved his hand, using a light grip to bring Robin's hand up to his chest, pressing it palm down over his heart.
"It's not beating," Robin managed, not sure if he was more shocked at the confirmation that it was real, that it was all real, or that he wasn't more freaked out about it.
Vlad gave him a small smile, "It doesn't mean I love you any less."
“Don’t scream,” he whispered, and her brow furrowed.
“Scream?” she asked. “Why would I scream?”
Vlad saves Erin from the Carpathian Feast, but he's already given up. There's no saving her from himself.
Bookmarked by mayfriend
22 Apr 2021
She relaxed when her eyes met his, and for a split-second, it broke his heart.
And then it didn’t.
Fandoms: Star Wars: The Wrath of Darth Maul - Ryder Windham, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
22 Feb 2020
“Young Bant Eerin is having…difficulties.”
Feemor frowns. “Master, we have no way of knowing what she is truly seeing. It could be past, present or future— and we do not even know if the future she sees will come to pass.”
Even so, Bant’s visions are troubling, full of shadow and violence. At the centre of it all is one person. Sometimes man. Sometimes boy. Sometimes something else entirely. But it is always Kenobi, there is no denying that. His essence is the same, no matter how it twists and warps and crumbles.
“If we could only find him—” Qui-Gon interrupts himself, gaze far-off. “In another life, maybe, he could have been my- my padawan, but now…”
Feemor worries for his former Master. And for this strange youngling he's never even met, and likely never will.
In which Obi-Wan acts in the only way he knows how after a lifetime of regret and self-sacrifice.
But the thing with that is this: Obi-Wan has thought himself to be alone for far, far too long. And he is not the only player on the field.
- Part 3 of he leaves sand and stardust in his wake
Bookmarked by mayfriend
20 Apr 2021
“Maybe it was for the best they left,” Xanatos spits, barging into what feels like an unstable, intimate conversation, though barely anything has been said. Xanatos glances at Obi-Wan and something flickers across his face as the man amends, “He left. And how could he not? How can anyone expect help from the Jedi Order when they fail the very children they raise within their ranks?”
Qui-Gon’s face pinches in frustration. “Not all are meant to be Knights—”
“That is not what I meant.” A gust of breath leaves Xanatos in a rush and he begins to pace like a caged animal, lightsaber still spitting scarlet in the waning light. Warily, Obi-Wan backs up a step, discarded blasters clattering at his feet.
“We are raised to believe in the Order,” Xanatos begins as if he is reciting a lesson long-learned. “We are taught to believe in the righteousness of the Jedi. The Jedi are benevolent. The Jedi are just. The Jedi are wiser than any other beings in the galaxy. And yes, I suppose this is about being raised to believe that we must become Knights. That only the best are accepted by a willing Master while the rest are shoved off to the far regions of the galaxy become explorers, pitiable farmers or halfway decent healers. But it’s also about being indoctrinated into a religion that some of us simply don’t understand.”
Xanatos swings around to face Qui-Gon, brandishing his lightsaber to emphasize his point. Takes a deep breath, recites: “‘There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.’
“This is the most widespread interpretation taught by the Jedi. The core of the Code. The lines that every youngling knows by heart, even if they don’t understand it quite yet. What the Jedi are so keen to forget, is that these lines are an interpretation and not simple fact. Odan-Urr,” he spits the name in contempt, “is revered as the scholar who clarified the Code for the Jedi. ‘The Teachings of Master Odan-Urr’ are taught to us all as ignorant, tiny younglings who know no better than to shut up and listen. We don’t debate. We aren’t encouraged to refute the Code or question if Odan-Urr’s interpretation is actually correct.”
Gesturing with his lightsaber, Xanatos sneers. “Right now we’re standing in the ruined home of the great Odan-Urr himself. And do you know what I’d like more than anything at this moment? I’d like nothing more than to see the Sith Lord Exar Kun bury his blade in Odan-Urr’s gut.” The words are full of hatred. Obi-Wan wants to retch.
“Because, you see,” Xanatos continues, “children like me can’t lock away our emotions like the perfect little Jedi you try to teach us to be. Children like me are forced to reconcile with the fact that they must forget their families even if they miss them, even if their fathers and mothers and sisters loved them more than anything. We have to force ourselves into a little box and cut away everything that makes us us in order to please you. In order to belong and be accepted.
“I tried to be the perfect Padawan for you, Qui-Gon.” Xanatos’ voice breaks, near trembling. “I tried, Force, I tried. And not once did you think about telling me to focus on the first, true words of the Code instead of the shambles that it had become. That idiotic interpretation that just didn’t fit with everything that I felt and knew to be true.” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath again and says near reverently:
“Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.”
The words ring bright and true and touch the deepest parts of Obi-Wan’s soul, trembling within him with such joy and sorrow that tears well in his eyes.
Xanatos lets out a little sigh and his lashes flutter then rise. “But by the time I figured out what I’d been missing, I realized that those words didn’t fit me either. I was too far gone, too confused. It was far too late for me. Not after everything.” In the last glimmers of the sun, Obi-Wan swears there are tears in Xanatos’ eyes, too.
“The Jedi,” Xanatos says slowly, because Qui-Gon looks too stunned and wrecked to interrupt, “generally only endorse Odan-Urr’s interpretation. They think nothing of the children who are as confused about the new Code as the original Jedi were about the old. We are not clones, born and bred to fit into the same lifestyle and beliefs. You’d think the Jedi would understand that, since you believe not everyone is meant to become a Knight.” The smile on his face is unexpected and bitter. Like sorrow given form.
“The Jedi failed me, Qui-Gon,” Xanatos says softly. “And you failed me, too. How can I expect you not to fail these children, as well?”
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Wrath of Darth Maul - Ryder Windham
22 Feb 2020
Obi-Wan Kenobi has lived, died, and lives again.
Basically a self-indulgence series exploring the Star Wars universe vicariously through Obi-Wan's attempts to right the wrongs of the past. Intended to become QuiObi in the long run, and will feature a lot of characters including Anakin (of course), Maul (and his brothers!) and Ahsoka.
My intention is to get all the way through Force Awakens, but we'll see how that goes, haha.
Playlist: Sand and Stardust
Doing my best to update regularly!
Bookmarked by mayfriend
18 Apr 2021
Obi-Wan thinks loss starts with love. And maybe sometimes love starts with loss, too.
Obi-Wan wonders: when did this all start?
Because it started when a father yelled BEN over a deep void, and died because he dared to hold his desolate son. Because it started when Snoke crumbled a young boy with constant whispers, and it started when Luke said: "I don't want to be the only Jedi." It started when Vader lifted the galaxy's terror high into the air and thought: No more. It started when the Death Star blew and Obi-Wan fell beneath a once-brother's blade and when Luke longed for the skies and Obi-Wan left him there, and it started when Padme gave up and Anakin wailed about betrayal and when Obi-Wan didn't listen and when love blossomed and grew and grew and grew, until it became a whirlwind of confusion and longing (but maybe that's the way it's always been)—
It started when a good man died and Obi-Wan was left to grasp at ashes, and it started when a boy offered them a place to stay, and it started when a man tipped the scales and the galaxy fell into chaos. It started with a young Queen's planet and it started when Xanatos fell and it started when Obi-Wan stepped up the ramp to a ship to Bandomeer and it started when Bruck Chun said something Obi-Wan didn't like and he lashed out, and it started before Obi-Wan was even born. It started when Jedi knew too much and it started when Jedi began to question and it started when others began see they weren't the only ones and it began when they asked why and when and how.
So Obi-Wan knows it's more than just him and his loss. He is not the beginning and he is not the end. You cannot fix everything and perhaps you shouldn't fix everything.
So Obi-Wan wonders this: what should I fix? He wonders this: what can I fix, and where should I start?
Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
16 Apr 2021
Obi-Wan needs to remember how to love, and let go.
The Force provides the catalyst. Anakin takes care of the rest.
Bookmarked by mayfriend
18 Apr 2021
“I think I knew,” Obi-Wan says. “I knew he was gone.”
The statement fills him not with sadness, but with peace. It’s a curious thing.
Anakin strokes his hair and looks far into the distance. “I wish he was here.” There is bitterness there, and longing.
Obi-Wan shakes his head. “We don’t need him.” Obi-Wan doesn’t need him.
Anakin’s fingers still. “You miss him, though,” he says. “You asked for him. Every night.”
“I miss him,” Obi-Wan admits, because he does. “But I don’t need him. I just need…” he trails off, wondering how to put it into words.
“You need what?” Anakin prompts, when Obi-Wan has been quiet a little too long.
“To not be alone,” Obi-Wan says; and yes. That is it. That is exactly it.
Warm air caresses his ear as Anakin exhales. “You’re not alone, Obi-Wan. And you never will be.”
Well, of course he won’t. He has Anakin. He has Ahsoka. He has Cody, and Rex. He is a Jedi, and that means he has the Order, and people like Yoda. He has the Force, and even though it has done this to him, even though he has been forcibly distanced from it, it will never leave him. He will be a part of it forever.
This is obvious, so why does it feel like a revelation?
He smiles, bemused. To Anakin, he says: “I know.”
Anakin holds him for a long time, until Obi-Wan’s arms and eyelids feel heavy. It is then that Anakin lays him down on his back, carefully, like he is something precious. His boots are removed. A pillow is picked up, turned over, and slid beneath his head. Anakin goes to the dresser, and returns with a blanket. He is clearly hesitant to drape it over Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan reaches for it.
It’s old, and slightly threadbare, and he recognises it. It came with him from the crèche to his new room with Qui-Gon, and then… there is a twinge of warning, but Obi-Wan pushes past it, for his heart aches to know, to remember. Then, he recalls, in a flash that doesn’t hurt at all; then it was Anakin’s. He gave it to Anakin.
That’s all he remembers. Pushing further would be ill-advised, and he doesn’t need to.
He takes the blanket, wipes the soft burnt orange of it against his cheek, and Anakin wraps him in it. This blanket connects them, in a way that Obi-Wan can touch and feel, but it’s unnecessary. He doesn’t need a piece of fabric, or a hand in his own, to feel connected to Anakin. Just as he doesn’t need a plant, or a braid of hair, to connect him to Qui-Gon.
There is the Force, and through it, Obi-Wan is connected to all living things, and to all things that were once living. Those he loves are always with him, and always will be.
Anakin sits at his side, for though the room and the bed have changed, they have not. Before Obi-Wan can drift off, Anakin speaks. “Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan hums in acknowledgement, but does not open his eyes.
“When… in the beginning,” Anakin says. “When you woke up in that cave. You said that you remembered us. Me, and Ahsoka, and Rex and Cody.”
Obi-Wan hums again; he remembers. He wonders where Anakin is going with this.
“You said that Rex and Cody, they help us,” Anakin says. “And Ahsoka; you remembered that we protect her and train her. You… never said what you remembered about me.”
Oh. Is that all? Obi-Wan had been afraid that Anakin would ask something hard, and he would have to wake up again to answer him properly.
“That’s easy,” he murmurs. “You’re Anakin.”
Anakin is silent, and Obi-Wan nearly falls asleep, but—“That… doesn’t actually tell me anything.”
Obi-Wan huffs through his nose. Anakin really can be obtuse.
He turns onto his side, burrowing deeper into their blanket. “You’re everything,” he says sleepily, slurring the words. “I love you the most.”