my doomed otp ;a;


I know … last night was unexpected. If you regret it –

you know what i want? an obikin!au in which obi-wan was never found by the order so he grew up being an older brother and a well loved kid who later, along his siblings, joined the friends of the republic after some shit went down on stewjon and all they knew was wiped out

just think about non-trained!obi-wan being sent on a mission and crossing paths with knight skywalker and not the other way around for a chance. he will be even more sassy and even a little cocky himself as he would be the only force sensitive growing up in his town and probably always the assertive one. a total nightmare to grow up with, tbh. still here, obi-wan would be over 30 and a seasoned fighter with a somehow tragic past,  a hell of a right hook and an amazing aim with a blaster, that absolutely hates flying but still is the best pilot the friends have

i want a fic in which anakin first senses all the wild, untamed force around obi-wan and THEN put his eyes on him. i want an obi-wan who wakes up as soon as anakin puts a foot on the ground of the same planet/ship he’s at. i want fate, people! i want them on a street fight or a real battle and noticing that someone can finally have their back. i want anakin turning around to scream at obi-wan to get the hell down, only to see obi-wan has already jumped out of harm way. i want obi-wan  to chase after some enemy only to see anakin a few streets down come flying out of an alley and tackling them down. i want them to trade silly smiles and to be kind of amazed at the fact they work so well together in the battlefield, i want obi-wan to be the one who starts flirting with anakin and i want them trading kisses under some x-wing. i want anakin to dream about obi-wan’s death as a soldier in the battlefield and deciding to give him as much force training as he can because there is no way of convincing him to stop fighting. i want them to fight palpatine and win and then bicker into the sunset and their happily ever after

anonymous asked:

Can you help me to reconcile some of the commentary about Will from the con? He loves Hannibal because with him he doesn't feel alone and the world makes more sense. However, being like Hannibal, even when it makes him happy like the "it's beautiful," is something he can't live with? It sounds a lot like Hannibal's "You delight and then berate yourself." That makes Will sound doomed to unhappiness. I thought learning to embrace darkness and use it as he sees fit helped/would help. Thanks.

I think unfortunately, in many ways, Will Graham is just doomed. :P So I don’t know that my views on this are necessarily going to be very helpful. I mean, there’s a reason Will saw fit to kill himself and Hannibal only moments after delighting in such wickedness, and it wasn’t just sacrificing himself to take down the devil. In Will’s eyes they were the same, and equally deserving of death. It’s hard to say where that’s going to leave him after surviving said murder-suicide attempt however. We won’t really know where his head is post-fall until we get there.

The entirety of Will’s arc has basically been struggling to reconcile the bad with the good. And often indulging in self loathing when the bad feels so good. With loving Hannibal but knowing that the world would be better with him gone. With knowing himself better than he’s ever known himself with Hannibal, but at the same time utterly loathing what that truly means. It’s messy and it’s horrifying and it’s never, ever going to be easy.

Sure, season 4 might see Will embracing the ~darkness more than ever before, but I don’t think he’s ever going to be able to find a space in this world that is entirely happy and free of conflict, both inside and out. Boy has some serious fucking issues to say the least. He’ll never truly be the killer of Hannibal’s wet dreams, but he has killed, and hoooo boy has he has enjoyed it. And I think it’s safe to say he will kill and enjoy it again. But even if he can accept that as a part of who he is, I don’t think it’s realistic to expect him be suddenly conflict free and reveling in the Murder Inspo (Murderspo™?) because of it.

As I say quite often, Will Graham is many things, and unfortunately many of those many things are not very conducive to a quiet life of Murder Husband domestic bliss. I don’t think any of this is in direct conflict with the fact that he loves Hannibal very very very very very much. Because he does. And he always will. But that is also a very very very very big part of his problem. :P

Haunting - A Moriel Fic

Thank you as ever to my wonderful @blackbeak for reading this through for me before I posted it and for sending me the prompt that lead to it! Companion to this. It’s not essential to have read it at all but they do tie in with one another.

Title: Haunting 

Summary: Set in the midst of ACOMAF. Azriel is still desperately trying to infiltrate the queens’ mortal court. His absence takes its toll on Mor who finds her old nightmares returning to her. In a bid to escape them she leaves Velaris and heads to a quiet spot outside the city to gather herself. Unknown to her, Azriel has the same idea. 

TeaserWhile none of the lovers she had taken over the years had ever been allowed to feel like home, Azriel was home.

He was safety and warmth and comfort; the one who could always calm her even when she woke in near hysterics. He had always seen himself as a broken bastard, barely worthy of being included in their court, or of mattering to anyone. Nothing. But ever since he had come for her in the Autumn Court all those years ago and scooped her out of the snow and into his arms, she had struggled to see him as anything less than everything.

Link: AO3 

Mor closes her eyes and slowly tips her head back, exposing her throat to the moon’s blinding white bite. The darkness embraces her like a lover, clinging close, pressing into her skin, coating every curve. But its touch is soothing, comforting, familiar and worn. Unlike any of the lovers she’s taken over the centuries. They had been a soothing comfort for a few nights, weeks, perhaps months. But were always gone, always pushed away, before they felt truly known and familiar the way this darkness does.

She never wanted that, never wanted to get that close to someone, never dared let anyone who shared her bed feel like home. It felt too much like relying on them. And she had decided centuries ago never to bind herself to anyone like that, never to make herself feel owned, even in the slightest of ways, again.

Her freedom means more to her than familiarity or stability. And that’s what she reminds herself of now, drowning in the memories of what was done years ago. They’re things she hasn’t dwelled on this way in decades but they’ve plagued her dreams these past few nights. She is free now.  A marionette who cut her own tangled strings and made her masters bow before her. She is the queen  over the men who once tried to sell her like chattel. She is the conqueror of her nightmares. She is the dreamer released into a new world that smells like hope.

Propping her chin on her knees where they’re tucked in tight against her chest, Mor glances out over her surroundings. She had winnowed here tonight after waking alone and screaming in her room. As the memories continued to stir within her the walls around her had quickly come to feel like the bars of a cage and she’d needed to get out.

This was one of her places in the Night Court. Too far from any of the main cities for any who couldn’t winnow or fly. It is quiet and secluded, untouched and undisturbed for all the centuries she’s been coming to it. The bank is covered in thick, lush grass that looks black in the darkness of the night but by day glows, a stark emerald blanket covering the world.  

The soft carpet of darkness fades smoothly onto the stark, onyx mirror before her. A deep, fathomless glassy lake, still and untouched by the gentle fingers of wind that run through her hair. The sight of it sends thrills dancing along her spine at the same time as it soothes her. Magic lives and breathes in this place, to make the surface of that lake so still. So still that it forms a perfect mirror and the stars that shine overhead glitter in it.

 It’s as though some god captured the essence of night when the world was forming and placed it here. It’s entrancing and safe, welcome for a daughter of night, who spent all her life hiding her dreams from the harsh, calculating eyes of day, only ever daring to whisper them to herself when no-one but the stars looked on. The stars could be trusted with dreams, she had been told as a little girl. It was a habit she had never quite managed to outgrow.

Azriel had been the one who had first brought her to this place; his place, he confessed to her. A place he would come to train undisturbed. A refuge when the horrors of his own past became too much. Somewhere he could go when he just wanted a quiet, calm place to sit and think in peace for a few hours.

 Some nights when she has nightmares and feels the power pulsing beneath her skin as that broken, battered girl she was that still shelters in her heart fights to tear free of it she swallows her demons and makes them dance with her. She pulls a dress from her closet and loses herself in Rita’s for however long it takes her to become part of the music and the rhythm and the atmosphere that always thrums through her favourite dance hall and escape her past.

But some nights, like tonight, the thought of the people pressing in around her and the pounding beat of the music ensnaring her heart and causing it to pulse in time makes her feel sick and claustrophobic. Those are the nights she wakes and feels like she’s been stuffed into a cage that gets smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller with each second she lets it.

On those nights she comes here.

Az would usually have heard and come to her at the first sound of her screams, staying with her or leaving her alone as she needed. But he wasn’t there. He was still in the mortal realm, trying to infiltrate the queens’ castle. He’s been gone for almost a week now, without a flicker of word on his progress or well-being. She knew that was the way he worked, how focused he became-and how poorly he took care of himself as a result. And she knew that he had been gone for longer, to more dangerous places but…But she still worried about him. And missed him.

While none of the lovers she had taken over the years had ever been allowed to feel like home, Azriel was home.

He was safety and warmth and comfort; the one who could always calm her even when she woke in near hysterics. He had always seen himself as a broken bastard, barely worthy of being included in their court, or of mattering to anyone. Nothing. But ever since he had come for her in the Autumn Court all those years ago and scooped her out of the snow and into his arms, she had struggled to see him as anything less than everything.

Keep reading

let’s talk about an obikin!au in which it was the sith who whipped the jedi out of the galaxy instead of the other way around, so the galaxy developed as an empire ruled by the sith instead of a republic helped by the jedi

the few jedi subversivos spread around the galaxy under the belief that one day the force would send them the chosen one so their ways and knowledge must still be alive to train them and help them bring balance to the galaxy once again

thousands of years forward, jedi qui-gon jinn steals obi-wan kenobi from his own home, saving him from becoming an acolyte as was the destiny of every force sensitive kid born in empire space and proceeding to take him as his own padawan instead. he passes along everything he knows, tells obi-wan there are more jedi like them out there, binding their time until the chosen one comes to bring balance, he tells obi-wan about the war that’s more myth by this generation than fact, tells him how his master and his master’s master before him were trained to the duty of serving the chosen one once they were born and help them take the sith out of the power, qui-gon tells him how their duty is to train and protect and serve the person who will bring balance to the force

fast foward, every jedi in the galaxy feels anakin to be born and start making their way to him. they steal him away and take him to the organa royal family, who will rise him to know about ruling the galaxy

let’s think about a royal, obikin!au in which the idea of fighting the empire is to get a better emperor on the throne because they know nothing about democracy and obi-wan arrives to alderaan when anakin is 9, falls at his feet and swears his loyalty to him instead of the philosophy of a jedi order that has been lost sometime along the years between the war and now. a fic in which their relationship is the same but obi-wan’s doesn’t have to choose between his duty as a jedi and his love for anakin because in this fics, both are one and the same