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First Glance (Part Five)

Warnings: Alluding\Mentions of torture, one-timed cursing, death, intense sadness.

As Anakin speeds away, his eyes determined and at the same type confident, confident he will find his mother. No other thought in his mind, he maneuvers the speeder to make sure he can go in every direction of potential civilization.

The first three times, he was informed of nothing, but with his Jedi instincts and his overconfidence, Anakin was sure he would eventually find someone with sufficient information to find the Sandpeople. At sunset, Anakin got his wish, the hardwork and endless hours of asking and demanding answers, he finally got his questions answered.

Parking his speeder behind a couple of sand mounds, Anakin hopped out and perched himself on the highest mound he could find, looking at the unaware and oblivious people below him; working to keep the fire going and heading into their respective homes. Anakin swiftly skulked into the compact village, his hand on his lightsaber at his hip just for added measure, he looked into the modest-sized windows, checking a majority of them without getting caught, and without sight of his mother.

Until he reached the very last house; no different in appearance to the rest of the bundle, but nevertheless, lightened by the warm glow of the raging but slowly dying fire. Anakin's eyes darted around to check the scenery; empty. But he caught glimpse of someone, although the moved the slightest of inches, he saw them, and to his great surprise, it was his poor mother. Anakin ignited his lightsaber and used it to create a hole in the side of the house and step in.

Hurrying over, Anakin's hands went to check his mother for vital signs: her pulse was detectable, but faintly. Shmi, strapped to a board, wearing nothing but rags, bound and gagged, her fearful eyes swept to Anakin's, fear meeting anger, the two feelings colliding and creating fierce anger. Anakin's fingers worked at her gag, tossing it to the side as Shmi stared at him. When Anakin cut the ropes that bounded his mother to the wall. Shmi fell back, having no apparent balance or strength to fight the fatigue plaguing her mind, Anakin swiftly caught her, sinking to his knees with his mother cradled closely in his embrace.

From the ropes around her wrists and ankles for God knows how long, it resulted in horrible, bloody abrasions that rubbed deep into Shmi's skin. "Mom.." Anakin whispered, his voice cracking. Shmi's hand, weak and battered, caressed softly over Anakin's cheek, before cupping it. "Ani..." She whispered back, the voice Anakin once knew had grown hoarse and so deep into the depths of abuse that it sounded so unlike the warm, loving and tender voice of his mother.

"Mom, why.... why did they do this to you? Why?" Anakin felt the tears pricking in his eyes, but he did not resist, the sight of someone you know only ever loved, in your arms, withered thin and reduced to nothing, the sight makes you lose all sense of self and collapse into a mess of a person. "Ani, I-I....I...I.." Shmi's voice grew more and more faint, her hand still resting on her son's cheek, but her sense of strength wearing more and more frail and feeble. "I l-love you." She spoke as soft as the breeze of summer, her words stabbing through Anakin's heart like ice. He watched in remorse, pain and despair as the life in his mother's eyes faded, and along with that, her body went stiff.

Waiting for Anakin was normally so difficult, but this time, it seemed impossible. Your mind stormed with questions, your stomach burned with anticipation, but the feelings in you ached for the sight of him, to appease your eyes, but you had been waiting all night for him, after he left. Throughout the steadily decrease in temperature and the many warning of Cliegg's that there are predators out at night, scavenging for food, you remained seated on the sand. Some might say it was stubbornness and some might say it was a pathetic attempt to show how much you were remorseful for the argument the two of you shared which ultimately lead to his one-man departure.

However, time decelerated for you at the familiar and welcoming sight of Anakin's speeder, as you stand up and gaze at it, waiting and hoping to see Anakin hop out with his mother, you see Anakin step out, and then move to the passenger side and carry a motionless, wrapped in cloth body.

The look he gave you when he passed you and when Cliegg and Aika stepped outside, was one of pure guilt and anguish so deep, it made tears flood into your eyes. Anakin laid Shmi down, and went inside, grabbed a shovel, came back out and began digging. Cliegg's eyes were wide, but more than surprise or shock, it reflected a look of absolute crest-fallenness. You cautiously approach Anakin, but then stop yourself, as he had so quickly dug the grave and tenderly placed Shmi's body into the resting place, as a mother would carry a child to their crib.

As soon as he had covered the grave with sand, he took a moment to just stand there, to process the pain he felt and then he swept passed you, his eyes a noticeable hollow. "Anakin?" You breath out as you find him in his old bedroom, rebuilding a few random parts with intense but underlying blankness in his eyes. "She's gone." He croaked, the tone of his voice as soft as the wind but as raging as the sea. "She's gone and I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't... get here sooner, and if I did? She would be here with me and I wouldn't have to feel like this. Feel so useless. Hollow, empty. It fucking hurts, Y\N." You strided over to him, wrapping your arms securely around his waist while leaning your head into his back. "I know, Anakin. I'm so sorry." He sniffles. "I should've been there! I should've.... I should've.." He broke down, sinking to his knees again with you behind him, you crawled to his face and pulled him into a firm, tight embrace.

The sounds of his loud sobs and wailing rung throughout the house, aiding Cliegg in his quiet remorse, but working against Aika's and your separate attempts at solicicing the two men. Anakin's arms stay motionless at his sides, but his he buries his head into your shoulder, muffling his desolate and dismal cries ever so slightly.

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Last Note: This is not the end of the series! I will be posting a comforting and loving part six soon!

"Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: The world or its people's hearts?"

Obi-Wan returned to you. Dejectedly walking into your shared home, his head hung low, his clothes dirty and his body shaking. "Obi?" You said, peeking out of the kitchen, when you saw his state, you realized he had done it. He killed Anakin, his brother. You rushed to his side, pulling him into a reassuring and firm hug. "You did what you could." You whispered, stroking his hair. "No...." He whispered back. "I failed him." You leaned back, taking his face into your hands, cupping it. "Anakin chose his path, and you chose yours. You did what you could. You taught him, you loved him. Do not let his mistakes shape you." Obi-Wan nodded, now hugging you back. Over the course of the last few months Obi-Wan spent in Coruscant, he seemed immensely depressed, despite showing some happiness, it was a façade, you knew. Sure that no one else could see the hurt in his eyes, you would spend all day and all night holding him, reassuring him. You knew what it had done to him, killing Anakin, killing both a friend, family member and apprentice. It destroyed him. He had barely any will. That's what you never, ever would think possible. This kid, from Tatooine, whom Obi taught for ten continuous years would become the very thing he sought to destroy, sought to put an end to. Sure, it was a tragedy, a horrid thing to be alive to go through. And now? In the aftermath, Anakin dead, Padme dead, Sith rising, only two Jedi remaining and a destroyed Obi-Wan. You could even express how much it physically hurt you to see a man, the very same man you fell in love with and married, so burnt-out, depressed and just... broken, it wasn't the same. Nothing was. Except the same old lies he told you: "I'm fine, my love.", "I know I did all I could." or "I'm glad it's over. We can rebuild now." Because it was evident he was in pain, evident he wanted to go back, to die rather to live without his legacy. There were so many times where you heard him crying, sobbing himself to sleep because of the pain, as it was basically his only way of reacting to it. You stayed with him, hugging him, caressing him, holding him, telling him you loved him, it was going to get better and that the pain would fade. But you knew otherwise, you knew it was going to worsen more than ever, before it got any good. The way Obi-Wan looked at you when you both laid down in bed together, was one of love and sadness, but you knew it would be over, eventually.

They're Jealous Scenarios!

Han Solo: Maybe he was mistaken. He could've sworn he could see you speaking to one of the Resistance Pilots, a little smile cropped onto your gorgeous face. The same smile that you give him when he retorts with a snarky comment or a sardonic (playful) insult. And if that was correct, and he is 99.9% sure it is, why is it projected toward this bum?

With an adrenaline rush, he strides over to the pair of you, cutting your stupid conversation in two. Han's arm finds it's way to your upper back as he inserts himself into the interaction. He glares at the guy, his gaze too intense to match with that goofy grin on his face, which seems so out of place "I'm sure this is a lovely conversation, but we gotta go, bigger fish to fry. Don't we, sweetheart?" Then, he's tugging you away before you can reply. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to him.

The feeling that shot through him at the sight of you, so close to someone else, when you really did not need to be, it made his blood boil. "What kinda business do ya got with a guy like that, anyway?" Han's tone was firm, he really wanted to hear your answer. "None! I know that, it was just a conversation, Han." He scoffed and threw up his arms, almost defensively. "You just said it, none! You got no business talking to a bum like that! Come on, you're so much more than what you make yourself out to be, love." You frown but hug him anyways, sighing heavily.

Anakin Skywalker: He knew the feeling of jealousy well, too well. One might even call them friends and lovers. You, were his light, his angel, his sweetness. But he knew what was not what other guys saw in you, of course not, they saw you as something too low, a mere object. You were so much more, you had value, you had brightness, you shine, like the sun.

So when he could clearly see you being flirted with, flattered and random men in your vicinity, too close, and the clearly uncomfortable body language of yours, his mind went into husband mode, protectiveness, instinct to make you smile again, he moved over to the men. His gaze was like daggers, and threatening, those blue eyes that were the symbols of love, adoration, devotion and unspeakable, unwavering commitment to you, replaced by threats, searing jealousy and protection. He asked the men a simple question, "What do you think you're doing? Can't you see they are uncomfortable? Huh?" The men scrambled and spoke overlapping about their reasonings but Anakin couldn't hear more than, "We just wanted to show them a good time."

Within those few seconds, rage. All he could see was red. He used the force to send them flying back with ferocity. Once they hit a wall, he bent his fingers ever so slightly, force-choking them. But once you protested, he stopped. The men scurried off like mice. He turned back to you, seeing your face, no longer tainted by uncomfortability and now happiness, happiness because the guys were gone. "Thank you, Ani." He smiles, those pearly blue eyes melting into soft orbs of adorability. Oh, how, he loved you and it showed.

Kylo Ren: Supreme Leader Kylo Ren had faults. Flaws. Everyone knew that. To name a few: Anger issues, possessiveness and protection-issues and jealousy. He trained himself, he had such discipline and a higher goal to be like Vader that he always found himself being told off by you to slow down. Not work too hard.

You resemble to him, his mother. You carried such qualities of determination, hope, gentleness but a tendency to become firm if need be, and you always remained honest to him. Always.

However, that did not mean that everyone saw this in you. Frequently a group of women or men would hit on you, and it always ended in a fight. Because someone said something biting to him or you, and Kylo lost it. He always promised to you that he couldn't help it, and you knew this. The situation now with one of your higher ranking officials was getting out of hand and you were solving it, your own way. And you knew if Kylo had seen, it would become worse and violent.

The officer of yours seemed to not be getting the hint from your calm and collected words and you felt the anger boil in your blood and the officer said something insensitive and in a blinding flash, something black soared past you and knocked down the officer to the floor like a bowling ball hitting pins. It happened so fast, the officer couldn't even let out a scream, or a yelp. And when the moment past and your mind caught up to the situation, it was Kylo. You were frozen, and did not react immediately but when you did, Kylo was heaving, the officer's face was like something a scene from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but you scrambled to take Kylo away before the officer was dead. You called a medic and ran away. You did not even have to ask him what the hell that was, he was already talking.

"I can't believe the disrespect and vulgar language you get. They are tools, but they think that they are have potential to be more. My love, you're no object, you know? Not for anyone's pathetic usage, you're a person, and you're mine. My love, my beauty and my life. Always." He says before capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, with an underlying tenderness.

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<3333

If you reading this you are legally obligated to reblog and put in tags three things that bring you joy right now

Childhood Promises (Part 2)

The beginning of the year and semester preparation was always a time of rambunctiousness. Diagon Alley bustling with magical children, witches and wizards from all ages and grades rushing to get their supplies or find something that might pique their interests.

It was coming up on the beginning of year for you, now in your fifth year at Hogwarts. You had decided to go get your needed items with the Weasley's, Hermione and Harry. The family had used Floo powder to travel and after finding Harry in Knockturn Alley by Hagrid, you were sure to follow the one of the most important rules of travelling by Floo: Speak clearly.

As Mrs. Weasley heads off with Ginny, Mr. Weasley with Hermione's parents, Percy wandering off and Ron, Hermione and Harry exploring, that only left George, Fred and you. What better to do than spend time with your two childhood best friends? "So, what shall we do?" Inquires George, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Fred shrugs. "How about we go check on that little joke shop you guys fancy?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. "Sounds good." The twins recite in unison.

And so the three of you set off, occasionally pointing to something that would interests you all. At the same time you guys pass an empty alley, Fred and George manage to slip in with you and place you against the walls, moving close to your face. You let out a surprised yelp but then quickly settle down. "What's this about?" You question. "Just wanted to spend some time with our best friend." Fred replies in a falsely innocent tone, his hand tracing around your waist. You stare at them, puzzled. "We need to get our stuff, and hit up the shop, why're you trying to procrastinate?"

George sighs and points to the nearby shop of Borgin and Burkes, revealing a boy you had spoken about frequently in your last year, the boy whom you proclaimed to be in love with. You let out a mix of a huff and scoff, partially embarrassed that they had managed to remember what he looked like, but also not believing how they did. "Remember our promise?" Whispered Fred in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah, but he was from last year, how does that count?" With a wide grin, George replies. "It just does, sweetheart."

And with that, Fred began to practically devour your lips in that passionate, fiery and possessive kiss you had found yourself longing for unknowingly. You had responded immediately, your hands flying to find purchase on either of his cheeks, urging him subtly. His hands roam your body with no real aim, but the heat rising between you both was almost palpable. After a few scorching moments, he pulled his away, his lips went and red with the ferocity in which he had dived in with, he panted slightly, taking in a huge breath. You stared up at him, not able to form words to describe or even knowing what to say after something as speechless as that.

George takes this moment to gift you with a mesmerizing kiss of his own, his finger sliding under your chin, lifting it up featherly. He leans down, pressing a hand to the wall of the alley in which you were against and another to your upper waist, holding you steady while capturing your lips in a sweet, everlastingly tender kiss causing electric sparks to seemingly emit from every one of his touches makes contact with your burning skin. "Hey, c'mon. We gotta go back to Mum or she'll flip, think we kidnapped Y\N or something.." Urges Fred, tapping George on his shoulder as he strolls out of the alley. With a grumble, George reluctantly pulls away, following Fred out of the alley with an hand on the top of your head, ruffling it playfully.

Your thoughts dwell on the heatedly jealous kisses from the twins and you smile to yourself, biting your lip slightly as you both finally go to regroup with the Weasley's and begin to gather your supplies.

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Awaited Part 2!

The force is so mean to me!

Head lice

.....Who told you?

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#tbt Hayden Christensen at SWC 2019

The right posture to greet The Chosen One 🙏

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𝐑 𝐔 𝐋 𝐄 𝐒 — four characters that make you go "my man, my man, my man."

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