sorry it doesn't look like i slaved away at it for as long as i did

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Obi Wan depressed and in exile desperately searches for a way to fix things and save Anakin, while meditating he discovers a long forbidden and dangerous technique that borders on the dark that allows one to travel back in time. However he doesn't read the small print and as a result manages to yank himself completely out of the time line, only to be born at a later time as Ben the twin brother of Anakin Skywalker. There are repercussions, good and bad.

The boy was excitable, but he knew meditation and how to release his emotions into the Force, that was clear as he lead them along to his home.

“Ben and Mother is home so that’s good!”

“Ben?” Padme questioned as the wind started to rub sand up around them.

“My brother.” He beamed up at them before biting his lips. “Watto doesn’t like to have him working at the store when he’s sick so he usually stays at home with mom or me while one of us is at the store.” He frowned a bit. “Its good that Toydarians frown upon separating families, or he might have sold Ben for not being useful. Or that’s what Ben says.” The blond shrugged a bit before perking back up, beaming at them. “We’re here!”

Qui-Gon blinked a bit, focusing his eye on the small quarters as the boy ran to his mother and explained that he had brought home guests, quick to offer the rations he had. It was nice enough that Anakin was offering them shelter, they didn’t need to be a drain on the few resources a slave had and Qui-Gon had already seen Jar-Jar eat.

The Gungan could pack away a good load.

“Mom, where’s Ben? I wanna introduce them to Ben.” Anakin looked around, blue eyes focusing on the couch first, then a worn but squishy chair before looking up at his smiling mother.

“He’s in bed Anakin, go fetch him would you? Give him a bit of time to wake up.” Shmi stroked her blond son’s hair with a gentle hand. One of two suns, just like Tatooine had, her twin sons.

Anakin beamed and ran to do so.

“I know that your son has already offered us space but thank you, we weren’t sure where to go and it is much to far to the ship with a sandstorm coming in.” Qui-Gon offered peacefully and Shmi looked up at the tall Jedi who’s head brushed the ceiling.

She gave a small smile. “Its an honor to have revered Jedi in the home if I’m honest…but I knew you were coming.”

Padme blinked from behind Qui-Gon and even the Jedi looked surprised.

“You…did?”

“Yes. Ben said you were coming sometime this week. Ben is never wrong about things like that, its why Watto keeps him. Ben is good at guessing who wins the games.” Qui-Gon blinked at that and would have asked for more if Anakin hadn’t returned with a chaotic presence.

He turned quickly and stared at the redhead who stood a bit smaller then his brother, the pale skinned child so at odds with the tan of his brother as he leaned on the blond. Around his neck a little japor carving rested and there was a wealth of freckles covering his skin as he looked up, blinking green eyes at the guests before his eyes rested on Qui-Gon, familiarity and surprise in his eyes. “You have a eyepatch, I didn’t see that happen.”

()()()

Anakin and Ben had no father.

Both Ben and Anakin were strong in the Force though Anakin was stronger then his brother with a slight knowledge of meditation.

Ben however knew more, there was more to Ben and his chaotic Force presence. And Ben was sick and was missing a hand. Shmi said he lost it during a brawl where she had lost sight of both kids and only found them again with Ben lacking his right hand, screaming and crying as blood poured from him. She’d almost lost him that day from bloodloss.

“You should be careful about Watto. He doesn’t like losing.” Qui-Gon turned quickly in surprise, blinking down at the child who reached him no more then to his waist.

“I see little one. You know what I’m going to do.”

Ben shuffled a bit and leaned on the wall, wearing his sleep clothes as he moved further out into the night of Tatooine. “You’re not going to be able to bet enough for him to let us all go. The ship isn’t worth all of us.”

Qui-Gon reached out and helped the boy sit up on the wall with him, gentle with him. He felt frail, sick…but warm in the Force despite being chaotic.

“Would I win Ben?” He questioned lightly as he settled the child, wrapping his own robe around the shivering shoulders.

“Uhu, you take Anakin with you.” The redhead smiled at him before peering at the eyepatch.

“…My former apprentice did that.” Qui-Gon smiled at him when he didn’t ask outright for answers. ‘Such a curious but polite child.’

“I’m sorry.” Ben offered solemnly.

Qui-Gon watched him and the child watched him in return, a calculating look entering Qui-Gon’s eyes.

“Ben…if I were to offer up myself as part of the bet…what would happen?”

()()()

“I still can’t believe it.” Shmi whispered, watching her two boys while Padme set down a cup of tea for the older woman. “I…Ben said we might go. Not that we were. Just…” She shook herself and took the cup, giving the disguised Queen a small grateful smile.

“Ben sees a lot of things doesn’t he.” Padme asked softly, smiling in return.

“He always has. He’s always been a sickly child compared to Anakin but he’s always known things too. I used to worry about it.” She looked back at Ben and Anakin, the redhead tucked underneath his brothers head. “But if he said something would happen, it happened. I learned to listen. Sometimes it was so simple as to not be closest to the doors or not say certain words. Sometimes it gave me enough time to pack our meager things for when we were sold.” She played with the cup she was sure was more expensive then anything she owned.

Padme hesitated before carefully taking the older womans hands. “Would it be possible for the Queen of Naboo to perhaps speak to Ben? If he sees thin-”

“You shouldn’t trust him.” They both looked over to the kids.

Ben’s eyes were open to little slits as he peered at Padme tiredly. “He wants power, not the best for Naboo. A vote of no confidence won’t help Naboo. The Senate controls the Jedi, not the other way around. Be careful of snakes wearing a peacocks disguise.” He shuffled a bit and tucked back, falling asleep again.

Padme stared at him before looking at Shmi, who shrugged. “Best put those words to mind. It might not make sense now but it will eventually. My best guess? Listen for the man who wants a vote of no confidence.”

The two stared quietly at each other before Qui-Gon stepped out from where he and the pilot had gotten the hyperdrive fixed, the older man looking around before bowing to the ladies when he saw them.

He took note of the kids moment later, his blue eye softening a bit as he picked up his robe and tucked it around both shivering children before he joined the ladies.

“Is there anymore tea?” He questioned lightly and gratefully accepted a cup from Padme, taking a small sip. “Thank you, we should reach Coruscant in a timely manner now.”

“I’ll inform the Queen.” Padme smiled and stood, heading to the royal quarters.

“…You know she’s the Queen, right?” Shmi questioned softly.

“Of course, but the handmaiden routine is useful for them, it keeps the queen equipped with invisible bodyguards.” Qui-Gon chuckled and looked at the other. “You have questions.”

“Yes, I…Anakin and Ben, you said you want both to become Jedi?” She blinked at him and Qui-Gon took a sip of tea to think about what to say.

“Anakin is strong, he can become a Jedi. Ben…” He hesitated.

“He’s frail.” She whispered, hands clenching on the warm cup. “What…”

“He may still become a Jedi though. Just not one who leaves the temple for missions. He can be an Archivist or even a healer. But perhaps our healers can help Ben frailty. His illness seems not to have any reason so perhaps it can be fixed.” Qui-Gon pondered before shrugging. “But regardless, he may have a place with us.”

Shmi looked back at her two twin sons. “…Will you train them?”

“A Master, a teacher, may only have one student. But I can train one of them. Yes.”

“…Thank you.” She whispered.

klaine-run-the-world  asked:

I can't even hide how pissed I'm about this, IDGAF if it's Ricky's fault and not Darren's like ppl say, Darren looks so bad. He doesn't do shit for my community except for going to events to promote his stuff & play lgbt roles, he truly looks like a dudebro who takes advantage of the lgbt community for marketing and MONEY. How is that str8!darren stans can't see how awful he looks as an ~ally~????? The fact that they changed the words bc str8 in the article is GROSS.

Part 2.

There is no doubt they pay for those articles to mention him in those LGBT lists, idc if people disagree, he doesn’t belong there if he is going to sell his str8ness and girlfriend 24/7, idc whose fault is, Darren looks gross as fuck & I hate this. Anyone saying he is a good ally is fucking stupid. Want to sell yourself as an ally? ACT LIKE ONE. But noo he promotes his gf but don’t say shit about the Trans/Trump debacle even tho he played Hedwig. P.s: sorry for the rant. I’m so mad.


……,…………………………..

First let me just say …. You have no clue how hard it was for me to figure out how to copy and paste the second post to this one on my phone. 😂.


Normally, I dont post these. I just stay away from them because sometime I feel like I like in a totally different worls. I can understand ones annoyance.


However…..I mean did you have this same anger against Wentworth miller? What about Matt? Ricky martin? Ellen? Queen latifah? Kristen Stewart? What about Raven. ( No you know what.. Let’s not include raven cause she nuts and there is plenty to upset with her for 😂 ). I mean Ricky was in every lgtb mag for years. He paraded a host of supermodels and actress as his gf. One for a very long time. Wasn’t until his children were getting ready to be born that he came out because he didnt want to hide them or his partner . you think d team goes haywire on the straight train, have you ever researched old Wentworth press? Hell at one time they thought to make him a man whore just to insure folks knew he was straight. Cause you know its better to be see as a player than gay per the studios.


I mean there is another they choose to go back and fix the wording in the article. But knowing that persons ex, I just had to chuckle about it.

What about mannilow? Who surprising enough lived for years in a similar situation. In fact he moved an assistant into his home and lived with her for years. Folks thought they were married and she was his wife. He is 73 and just now talking about it. Again most knew but he denied til the cow came home.


As I remind x when he feels like he is letting his fans down, he isn’t obligated to do or say anything for his fans. work behind the scenes is just as important.

Just because D chooses to beard does not invalidate what he does behind the scenes. if that is where he feels comfortable, than whatever. Not everyone wants to be or can be as vocal as my minis.

(i mean bearding is all over. like plenty of others here and I am sure there are some you think are cute couples but they arent)

that doesn’t mean I dont understand the annoyance.

There are a lot of out gay males, trans females and etc in Hollywood and they have a difficult time finding work. I mean there is a situation right now where it was decide to cast a woman to play a teams female even though we know there are to trans actresses.

Similar to how… eypgt is in Africa but to have Hollywood paint it, there were only four black folk there and of course they were slaves. 😑😑😑. what about all the mixed woman in Hollywood. (Hell I’m one). but no lets have Angelina Jolie play a mixed black and white woman. but lord we get a black Annie and folks damn near wanted to burn the studio to the ground.

So I get it. I get the anger, the frustration and I won’t belittle those feelings because only you know what you have been though and seen for your journey. Your feelings are valid and they matter.

I just ask that you take a moment and remember that not everyone is at the same place. Some just aren’t ready to be that kind of public. Some need more time. some feel they need cover.

it okay. With the shit going on in this country due to agent orange, all we can do is try to live as best as we can for ourselves and light a candle for those that can’t, or dont want to, or aren’t ready

calypcso  asked:

scars; Samlaena– after Endovier, au where Sam doesn't die ;)))

haley you wonderful wonderful person do you know how much i hate geometry thank you and this is my favorite kind of au you know

“Sam,” she said as he wrapped his arms around her. The name almost tasted foreign in her mouth, a half-forgotten memory from another life. “Sam.” She tested the word again, the name, so simple yet so important. Sam. 

“Gods, Celaena,” he murmured, and just hearing her name again - hearing it said like.. like he cared. Maybe even loved her. “I’m sorry.”

Those were the words that drove her to her knees. Sam barely caught her as she crumpled, shaking and trembling, heaving out a sob. He cradled her like she was his most prized possession, but - no, she wasn’t a thing to be owned or put on a pedestal. She was no slave; those times were over. 

“You’re real,” she got out between sobs, even as he slid down next to her and pulled him into her lap. He smelled like coffee, and a crisp fall wind, and the fresh earth after a rain. He smelled like home, like a new beginning. “You’re real.”

“I’m not letting go of you ever again,” he rumbled, and she could feel him speaking. “And if he tries another thing…” But there were so many he’s in the world, so many cruel, mad men. 

“I thought I would never see you again,” she whispered. “I thought.. I thought… I was starting to forget-” She stopped speaking and looked up at his face, memorizing every part of it, every new and wicked scar. She’d almost forgotten her own self- how could she have remembered him?

“I’m here now,” he told her. “and you’re here, too. And it’s real, I promise.” 

Real. Real, real, real, as real as the long, thin scars than ran down her back, punishment for her crimes. If she closed her eyes, she could just imagine, the crack of the whip, thunder cleaving her skin-

Celaena’s eyes flew open, and suddenly the familiar apartment was too stifling. “Air,” she gasped, and Sam - bless him - didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up like she weighed nothing (probably true) and carried her outside, until she could turn her face up to the sky and sigh.

“What did they do to you?” The words were so faintly spoken that she almost missed them, quiet as they were. She didn’t think he meant for her to hear them, but she turned towards them anyway, meeting his haunted eyes.

He touched her back gently, and where his fingers met the thin cloth and the skin underneath, a fire began, racing up her back - but it felt good. Good, not like hellfire and warm, wet blood. He could see her scars, then, or at least a bit of them. It was no surprise, but Celaena sucked in a breath and turned away. They were marks of shame, the scars of failure. 

“Do you.. want to see them?” she asked when he took her hand and helped her inside. His footsteps were slow, steady - reassuring. Something to cling to. She swallowed. “What they did?”

“Celaena,” he began, setting her gently onto the bed. “If you don’t- I mean..”

“I want to show you,” she said quietly. “They’re.. they’re a part of me now.”

He nodded and took her hand again, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Her eyes burned. It had been too long - far too long since anyone had touched her like that. Her heart ached, and Celaena suddenly found herself throwing her body at Sam, straight into his arms. He caught her easily, knees hitting the floor. And then she was kissing him, her hands instinctively finding his hair. He touched her gently, as if he was afraid she’d fall apart, light touches like his fingers were butterflies on her back and shoulders and oh-so-softly on her cheek. She sighed into the kiss. Home.

“I’m not complaining,” Sam joked, and her heart leapt when she spotted the faint smile on his face. “but that was.. rather unexpected.”

“I missed you,” she said. “I didn’t know what or who I was missing, all those months… but it was you. Always you.”

He sat back and studied her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She wasn’t, though, couldn’t be - not with her broken, battered body or her starved face or shattered mind. “I want to see them,” he decided, and she held her breath as he tugged her tunic over her head, baring herself to him.

He went silent when he saw her. A thin, sharp frame; her ribs jutted out as her torso sunk in. There weren’t many scars on the front, though - the worst being a short scar right above her belly button, courtesy of a little fight.

Celaena turned slowly, glad she wouldn’t be able to see Sam’s face when he saw her. A beat of terrible, terrible silence, and she shivered as a trembling finger touched her back.

“Gods,” Sam began, but he couldn’t seem to speak. “Gods.”  

He traced the scars she knew so well. Then he made a half-strangled noise - a sob, she realized. “I wasn’t there,” he murmured, and the words were heavy, thick with unshed tears. She knew immediately those had been the words he’d carried for so long, a burden. “I wasn’t there.”

“You’re here now,” she echoed his words from earlier, turning so she could see him again. Because he was - and he wouldn’t leave her. He’d promised, and it was enough. She reached out and touched his face. “You found me.”

His lips curled up. Slightly - only the ghost of a smile, but it was him. “Celaena,” he whispered.

“Sam,” she replied simply. 

oopsies scars only happened in like one paragraph and some of this is cringe-worthy but it was a great distraction

scars:  Scars: I’ll write your character touching my character’s scars or vice versa

Send me a prompt and characters, and I’ll write you a drabble! (This list is even longer!!)