Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

kyraneko:

cumaeansibyl:

amoresophisticatedkrackel:

As much as I love mutual pining and using it for every ship ever, I really don’t picture it applying to young, pre-relationship Baze and Chirrut

Because I imagine it as Baze being completely lovesick, head over heels pining, “I would die if he found out how much I love him but also he keeps accidentally flirting with me and doesn’t he know it’s killing me?”

meanwhile Chirrut never feels like this because he’s under the impression they’re already dating

Chirrut can tell Baze loves him and he can also tell something is eating Baze alive but because he thinks they’re already dating (what do you mean, we didn’t actually have that conversation?) he doesn’t realize it’s unrequited love

so he keeps asking what’s wrong and Baze keeps saying “nothing,” and of course that’s a lie but there’s obvious pain and shame behind it, so Chirrut doesn’t want to push

finally Chirrut gets Baze alone and says “listen, I know something is bothering you and I think you need to talk about it. don’t worry that I’m going to judge you; you’re my boyfriend and I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

it probably takes a good two-three minutes before Baze can say anything but “what” and he’s been cranky ever since

it got better

(via ifeelbetterer)

words-writ-in-starlight asked: For the Softer World prompts, either 31 for Anakin or 34 for Anakin/Padme?

skymurdock:

for this AU. also, the long-awaited appearance of Padmé Amidala!

34: When you’re around I don’t know how to hide my feelings. I count in binary, in my head. zero one one zero one one and you count clouds (while you count clouds)

title: and you count clouds

–

Say there are over seven billion people in the world, at this moment. Say that there are three hundred twenty five million people in the United States of America alone, and that there are eight million people in New York City alone, all minding their own business, not counting the ones only passing by.

Now say there’s a woman out there, with warm brown eyes and a smile like the sun. Her hair’s pinned back, her touch is light, and her breath comes easy and tickles against tanned skin.

Now say she still loves him.

Keep reading

yol-ande:

I adore one of tropes going around in Star Wars fandom: Obi-Wan knows about Anakin and Padme’s relationship, takes it upon himself to stage a diversion, and because of that he systematically entertains other Councilors with fancy dinners and conversations, lest they could start to search for Anakin.

However, behavior like that is a very direct political statement. Because, while Obi-Wan certainly doesn’t think about it in those terms and probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it (a terrible misstep for a trained negotiator), he cultivates his contacts, courts his potential political cloud, and gathers allies.

For the outsider, it looks like he’s gunning for higher position.

So, I would really like to read something where Obi-Wan ends up as the Master of the Order by accidentally launching a successful political campaign, surprising absolutely no-one except for him and probably Anakin.

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

skymurdock asked: whispers 17, either Alex/Eliza or Anakin/Padmé.

17: I know your weakness.  It’s kisses.  You are doomed. (Don’t worry.  We’re all doomed eventually.)

How the galaxy fell to the Dark Side, one kiss at a time.  Or, an overview of the Sith Padmé AU.

“Oh,” Padmé says in surprise as the Force goes yesss in the back of her mind at the sight of a young boy with hair like sunshine and a presence like the sun itself.  Her Jedi protectors are easily as arrested by the boy’s presence, but she suspects for rather different reasons.  His power is spectacular, certainly, but there’s more—a sharp click as of a lock, and something in her core says that is mine.  

The boy’s head snaps up and his eyes meet hers and she hears, clear as day, his voice, as it says, An angel.  

When she meets him properly, Anakin with his sky-blue eyes and child’s voice, she offers her hand to shake.  Instead, he takes it, reverent, and kisses her knuckles.

“I’m going to marry you, someday,” he tells her solemnly, still holding her hand, and she smiles.

“I know.”

Keep reading

notbecauseofvictories:

also palpatine knew leia was anakin’s daughter from the moment she made planetfall on coruscant.

of course, was more generally aware of bail and breha’s daughter; when the threat comes—and it will come, he would not be a sith master if he could not feel the force gathering like a storm—he knows alderaan will be the tip of the spear. accordingly, he has armed himself against it. why else would palpatine have pressured bail to retire from the imperial senate, and send his beloved daughter in his place?

(children are weaknesses, children are the softest, most vulnerable place, where any blunted knife can cut. he has known this since anakin came to him, wracked with nightmares of birth and death.)

but being generally aware of bail and breha’s daughter is very different than knowing leia organa, feeling her drop like an ion bomb through the atmosphere of coruscant, so screaming-loud and shiveringly powerful through the force that palpatine stops dead. it’s been over fifteen years since he last felt that raw, unchecked, untaught power—since anakin skywalker returned to coruscant after so long away, all of nineteen and long-limbed, something animal have taken up residence under his skin. palpatine had taken one look and wanted to leash it.

and now his daughter is here.

(palpatine has been making do with such puny, stunted specimens lately. crippled things, taught in the dark by vader and then presented to him as though they were something to be proud of. but a skywalker daughter, who did not even know enough to shield herself from him—)

palpatine is patient. (he has always been patient.) he does not reach out, he makes no overture; instead he gives her his glittering planet with all its pleasures and strangeness. he even pulls his spies and guards back, to give her more room to run. aldera is hardly a backwater swill, but there is nothing in the galaxy like coruscant.

on the fifth day, the junior senators are presented to the emperor.

leia organa looks so very much like her mother, that for a moment, palpatine is back on naboo, standing before another little girl with a crown of braids. but her expression is all anakin, a badly-hidden contempt behind her eyes.

“leia organa,” emperor palpatine says, extending his hand for her to bow over. “we are gratified by your coming. may you serve us as loyally as your father has.”

notbecauseofvictories:

yeah but like

…..most of alderaan probably thought leia was a jedi anyway.

I mean, one minute the viceroy is a lauded senator and alderaan’s queen is childless, and the jedi are heroes, fighting a noble war against the separatists. Then suddenly the chancellor emperor is declaring that the jedi had to be cleansed, and senator organa slinks back to alderaan in unexplained semi-disgrace, and the queen has an infant daughter who is just Way Too Pale to be either bail or breha’s natural-born child 

“an orphan,” the queen and viceroy of alderaan tell absolutely everyone.

“a jedi orphan,” absolutely everyone replies. “saved from the destruction of the jedi temple. where the jedi lived.”

“no no, just a regular normal orphan with nothing force-sensitive about her! what a silly idea, our daughter being a powerful jedi. are we even sure jedi really existed? emperor palpatine makes some good points, about them never having existed.“

“we literally have 700 hours of holonews footage that’s just viceroy organa hanging out on the warfront with a bunch of jedi.”

“I don’t recall that,” bail says cheerfully. “and neither does my daughter, who is force-sensitive as a box of bricks.”

(leia is eight when she dreams of her father in the war. he is holding a sword of fire, and he breathes too loudly, harsh in her ears—she is scared, and so she reaches for him, seeking comfort,and suddenly he turns on her. he is shadow and death and that awful sword of fire, not her father at all, and he says in a breath of smoke, who—?

she wakes up to her father’s arms, real and warm, cradling her to his chest. it was only a nightmare, bail says, as she cries. shh, it wasn’t real.)

”on alderaan, they say she was an orphan rescued from the destruction of the jedi temple,” general tarkin says. “that she is a jedi too.” the footage is grainy, but tarkin can make out the shape of her well enough, the princess throwing herself against the cell door. such dramatics.

“impossible,” darth vader says from beside tarkin. the vocoder makes it hard to read his tone. “I killed every child that breathed.”

(well. he isn’t wrong.)

(via wildehacked)

capcassianandor:

“I say eighteen years,” Jyn, perched on the edge of the table.

“What? No way,” Cassian, leaning forward, focused.

Leaning back on his chair, Bodhi cleans his goggles.

“Well, they were Guardians before the Republic fell, weren’t they?” Jyn is insistent, “They must have had some sort of code against emotional attachments, like the Jedi.”

“Even so,” says Cassian, “It has to be longer than that. Looking at the way they interact, the subtlety of the touches, the shorthand… I say twenty-four, twenty-five years.”

“You’re not using your intelligence-gathering skills for this, are you?”

“Well, it’s not like I can just switch it off!”

“But it’s an unfair advantage!”

Cassian brushes her off and turns his attention to the pilot.

“What about you, Bodhi? What do you reckon?”

“Thirty-two years,” he says calmly.

Then, seeing as the other two are looking at him with raised eyebrows, he adds:

“Give or take. Probably dated for like… five years before that? I’m just guessing.”

“Shit, they’re coming. Credits on the table, boys!” says Jyn in a whisper.

Each of them throws a handful of credit chips on the table.

“Alright, spit it out,” says Baze, walking up to their corner of the mess hall, “the three of you have been staring at us for the last fifteen minutes.”

“I told you,” says Chirrut lightly, “their intentions are pure.”

“I don’t trust your definition of pure. And , in any case, it’s annoying. So what is it?”

Jyn elbows Cassian in the ribs to get him to do the talking.

“Well, we were just wondering… How long the two of you have been together.”

“Married, you mean?”

Jyn nods vigorously.

“Well, we became involved when I was sixteen, Chirrut was fifteen.”

“The bit about no emotional attachments was never really a rule. More like advice,” Chirrut answers Jyn’s unvoiced question.

“Very strong advice,” says Baze.

“Well, we were always unorthodox.”

Chirrut smiles at Baze, who leans in to give him a quick kiss.

“Anyway, we were married some five years later, so that makes it… thirty-two years?”

“Just about.”

Cassian and Jyn’s jaws drop, and they apparently decide to give up on hiding their secret. Both turn to Bodhi.

“What?!”

“How did you know?!”

“Unbelievable!”

The two wail and stomp off, grumbling about “two hundred credits!”.

Meanwhile, Bodhi leans forward on the table and gathers his precious winning.

“Guess that means these are mine now.”

“So,” says Chirrut grinning, “are you going to tell them you were born and raised in Jedha City, and that the marriage of two Guardians of the Whills made city-wide news?”

“Eventually,” he says, counting his chips.

(via ifeelbetterer)