#chioces fanfic

[choicesmcmadness]

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[angelasscribbles]

My Best Friends Girl Chapter 1: New York

Series: My Best Friends Girl

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Characters: Drake Walker, Liam Rys, Riley Campbell

Rating: R

Warnings: Some chapters may contain explicit language, mentions of sex.

You can catch up on my other stuff here.

From the very first moment I laid eyes on her, I was hers utterly and completely. Of course she didn’t know that. When she smiled at me, I almost forgot how to speak. Then Liam showed up and that was that. I saw how her face lit up, heard her stammer over her words. My heart dropped like a rock to the bottom of my being.

What difference does it make anyway? I asked myself. We were never going to see her again. She was a waitress in a bar on our last night in New York. We’d all be flying back home to Cordonia tomorrow morning.

But you could come back, a little voice whispered in the back of my mind. You’re not the one getting married, you’re not going to be king and you’re not stuck in Cordonia. You could come back alone, without Liam and see what happens….

I shook my head to clear it, I was being ridiculous. I didn’t even know this girl and the only conversation we had really had was her taking our order.

And yet I couldn’t keep my eyes off her all night. I was enthralled by every little thing she did, the way she moved, the way she laughed, she way she tossed her hair back absentmindedly. Her smile lit up the whole place. It made that dingy, hole in the wall bar feel like paradise.

I realized I was staring, so I forced myself to focus on my burger and the inane conversation at the table. Tariq and Maxwell were babbling on about designer suits and peacocks or something.

“So what’s next boys?” Tariq asked as the check came.

“Huh?” I caught myself staring at the waitress again.

“Oh! We have to go to a night club! It’ll be epic!” Maxwell practically squealed.

“Do you know any good night clubs Maxwell?” I asked him skeptically.

“No but…”

I stopped listening as I watched Liam get up and approach the waitress. They were both smiling and both looked so damn happy to be talking to each other that I felt a stab of guilt for wishing it was me she was smiling at like that. But I did. I wished it with all of my being.

Liam came back beaming, as we all walked outside he said, “Riley has agreed to be our tour guide tonight, we’re waiting for her to get changed.”

“What? Why?” I felt stupid as I tried to cover my dismay. Just what I wanted, to watch the two of them make eyes at each other all night.

“She’s local, she knows her way around and I owe her a drink to make up for the behavior of my clueless friends.”

“Hey! It wasn’t me being unreasonable, talk to those two!”

I stopped talking when she stepped out of the bar wearing a green dress that hugged every curve of her body. I swallowed, hard and breathed out a “Wow.”

Wow? I mentally kicked myself. I felt better that Tariq and Maxwell didn’t do any better at covering their  reactions.

“The waitress is hot.” Maxwell said, stating the obvious.

She got us into an amazing nightclub, I’ll give her that. But while I was at the bar, she and Liam just disappeared.

“Hey,” I texted him, “Where did you go?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He text back, “You guys go back to the hotel, don’t wait for me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

I sat staring at my phone in disbelief for what must have been ten minutes. Are you freaking kidding me? I shook my head. I let Maxwell and Tariq know then headed back to the hotel. Fuck this. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget this day ever happened.

[mercurydancer]

It Happened Quiet pt. 1

Being a Star Wars Fix-It where the Fix-it is Maul - 

On Slavery, Freedom, and bringing Balance to the Force.

_____________

           Anakin didn’t know what was happening.

           Qui-Gon had instructed him to remain here with Obi-Wan while the Council saw to something, leaving him in the Council Room, stating that it was important that he didn’t leave. They would discuss what to do with him after they took care of business, and while Anakin had been assured repeatedly that they would come back to decide whether or not to take him as a Jedi (and he’d been repeatedly assured they’d take him, particularly after the Naboo blockade)… There was fear there. Fear and a deep sense of unease, as well as something else…something…something deeper.

           It called to him.

           Anakin thought it had something to do with the one that they had captured, the man with the black tattoos, the one that felt like an open wound whenever he came near him.

           The one whose red and yellow eyes had stared into his soul and squeezed.

           Obi-Wan had explained that the man had been captured and drugged, special Force inhibitors used to both mask his signature as well as keep him from doing anything to harm them. They needed to keep him alive.

           Anakin felt the statement deep in his bones, a sort of ache that gnawed at him. Why would they need to keep him alive? Were they planning on questioning him? What was he? Why were the Jedi so interested in him?

           Why did Anakin feel like he needed to be there?

            The longer he remained inactive, the longer that he didn’t act on that feeling the worse it got until Anakin thought that his skin would catch fire with it. It was in that moment that Anakin finally gave in.

           Anakin ran.

           Obi-Wan’s voice called out to him, but Anakin didn’t hesitate, pushing the button to open the door and running out as fast as he could, the older boy hot on his heels. As Anakin ran, he found himself anxious at how maze-like the actual temple was. How was he going to find where he was going?

           How was he going to find him?

           But now that he was running, he found that the force that was pulling him was getting stronger, not weaker. Anakin followed it down corridors and stairs, sliding down railings and running past wandering Jedi and their Apprentices, voices calling out in surprise as he ran past them. None of them moved to stop him, and even Obi-Wan seemed to be more running with him than to catch him.

           Perhaps they felt it, too.

           Anakin finally made it to the lift that led to the lowest levels, panting, Obi-Wan breathless next to him, but there was no attempt to stop him. Instead, Obi-Wan was staring at him with wide eyes, his expression afraid. Anakin knew then that the Apprentice felt it, too, and they both turned to the opening of the lift, willing it to go faster. Obi-Wan’s hand rested on his when he instinctively reached out for him, and when the doors came open, Obi-Wan led him, the two of them moving as fast as they could towards what felt like necessity.

           Like Destiny.

           They burst through the doors at the end of the darkest corridor, and the dark-skinned Jedi that had been holding up a purple lightsaber froze. Anakin took in the sight before him, took in the red-and-black man that kneeled before him, cuffed and drugged and stripped to the waist, those yellow and red eyes staring at the two that had just burst into the room with something akin to incredulity.

           Anakin could also see something on that heavily patterned skin that he hadn’t before, something he couldn’t have seen until this moment, bathed as he was in a purple glow.

           Scars, so many scars, rising up in the flesh, crisscrossing his back, scars that Anakin had seen before, that he knew. They were scars that crossed his.

          There were other scars there, too, and those were worse.

          Anakin moved without thinking, running forward to stand before the man on his knees, his arms spreading out as he turned to regard the other.

           “Don’t kill him!”

           The unknown man before him wrinkled his brow, slowly lowering his lightsaber as he looked from Anakin to the man behind him.

           “Anakin…” Qui-Gon’s voice started, and Anakin turned to him, only for Obi-Wan to interrupt.

           “Masters, wait,” he said, coming forward, and unlike Anakin who was still breathing hard, he seemed to have regained his breath, and his eyes were alight with fear. “Can’t you feel it? Can’t you sense it? It…I don’t think we’re meant to kill him. I think that we’d be making a mistake…”

           There was a lingering silence as they turned from the one behind Anakin to each other, and the purple lightsaber was retracted, hung from his belt as he took a step back. “Speak,” he said softly, staring at Anakin. “Why shouldn’t we kill him?”

           “He…” Anakin took a breath, trying to force his heart to stop hammering into his ribs, and he looked back at the man kneeling behind him, trying to apologize with his eyes, “he’s like me, sir. He’s like me, he’s a slave! His Master made him do this, his Master caused him…don’t hurt him. Not when we have him here, not when…not when we can free him.”

           There was a long pause, the only thing audible the sound of the bindings keeping the man’s hands behind his back humming, and Anakin stared up at the man before him, those dark eyes staring down at him.

           Laughter.

           The sound sent shivers running up his spine, a hollow, empty sound that was made of rage and bitterness instead of anything joyful. Anakin found himself turning around to look at the man kneeling there, those eyes filled hate as well as the fuzziness of heavy drugs. His red-and-black lips spread back in something like a sneer, like a grimace, baring yellowed and cracked teeth, and it was him that was laughing.

           “I’m no slave, boy…” he said softly, and his eyes bored into his once again, that hate burning deep.

           “It’s okay,” Anakin returned equally softly, “I understand. You’re a person, and I shouldn’t have used that word, I hate it, too, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

           The man fell silent, staring at him with those odd eyes, and for just a moment Anakin recognized the look he was given as confusion.

           “He’s right,” the man with the purple lightsaber said, his voice soft, and Anakin turned to look at him. “He is not a slave, he’s a Sith.”

           Anakin had heard of that word before, had heard the whispered curses and the whispered fear, but he also knew what he was seeing. “He may be a Sith,” he said with a frown, “but he is also a slave.”

           “Foolish,” was the hissed comment, and Anakin turned to look at violent eyes that bored into him. “I have trained to be the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, and my Master…” He trailed off, those eyes widening, and there was fear there, fear that Anakin had seen so many times and in so many ways, the way the word ‘master’ left his mouth speaking volumes more than the word itself. Anakin knew then that he was right, and he straightened up.

           “You are a Slave.” Anakin frowned at him, and Anakin watched as those eyes narrowed, that mouth splitting into an angry sneer. “And your Master was wrong to hurt you the way he did.”

           “Shut up,” the slave hissed, “you don’t know what has been done to me, what I’ve endured to get to where I am, you don’t know the years of torture, the pain that I have undergone to become what I am. You do not know the hate that burns within me, you cannot begin to know what I am. I am Sith, and eventually I will kill my Master. Eventually I will take my place. Eventually I will…” He trailed off, and Anakin watched as his eyes closed, his horned head lowering as he fell into angry mumbles, fighting the drugs that were still rushing through him.

           Anakin said nothing for a moment, before turning to look at the Jedi, who was looking at the slave with thoughtful contemplation, and then finally looked to Anakin.

           “What do you see when you look at him, Anakin, why did you come here?”

           Anakin was quiet for a moment, looking at the slave kneeling there, looking at the scars that marred him, listening to the hate, to the vile things he was saying, and looked up at the Jedi. “I came because I was called, and I see a man that needs to be set free. Surely, sir…the Jedi wouldn’t kill a slave obeying his Master’s orders? Surely you would work to free him?”

           There was a long pause, and the Jedi took a step back, looking around at the rest of them, his eyes sharp and pointed, falling upon Obi-Wan as well, who swallowed heavily, his complexion pale, even as Qui-Gon moved to stand next to him, his hand squeezing his Apprentice’s shoulder, his own expression fixed.

           The Jedi before him closed his eyes, his expression clouded, searching, and then opened his eyes and frowned at the slave.

           “My vote is to detain him,” he said softly, “and see if there is a potential to rehabilitate.”

           The slave stared at him, shock spreading through him, and as mumbling rose, as they all quietly began looking at him with more scrutiny visible in their expressions, Anakin felt the energy in the room…change. There was consideration there, possibility, and then the slave began speaking.

           “No…” he whispered, “no,” he shook his head, and moved against his bonds for the first time, his eyes wide, and there was fear there, fear and hate, and as he yelled and then finally let out a sound that Anakin could tell was backed by power and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up… Anakin watched as blood slid out of the slave’s nose, out of his ears, his eyes, and he realized that the slave was fighting against the bonds holding him separate from the Force so much it was killing him…

           And then the Jedi’s lightsaber butted into the back of his head, sending him into unconsciousness, and he slumped forward in his bonds, the sound ended, and blood still dripped.

           Anakin backed up before looking up at the man standing there, looking up into his face, worry and fear deep within him. “I told you,” Anakin whispered. “He’s afraid. He fears his Master.”

           There was a long pause, and then a short green-skinned alien slowly made his way down the stairs towards him, leaning heavily on a short cane. “What leads to the Dark Side, fear is,” he said in a soft croaking voice, his large brown eyes piercing as they stared at him.

           “Can…can you keep him safe from his Master?”

           “We used suppressors on him,” Qui-Gon said, taking a step forward, frowning. “Both in bringing him here, and now that he is here. His Force signature is masked, he will be safe within these walls.”

           Anakin took a deep breath and sighed it out, feeling the delight in his soul. “Good,” he said softly, “if we tell him that, do you think he won’t be as scared?”

           There was a pause as the Jedi with the purple lightsaber traded looks with the others. “It is possible. But I do not think he would appreciate being with the ones who he was taught to hate. There is a possibility…he will understand rehabilitation as painful.”

           “It won’t be, right?” Anakin asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You won’t hurt him?”

           There was a long pause, and they looked at each other, before Qui-Gon walked forward and kneeled before him. “Anakin, will you give us a moment to talk amongst ourselves?”

           Anakin hesitated, “You can’t kill him, Qui-Gon, sir, you can’t…”

           “Why?” Qui-Gon asked softly, “can you tell me why?”

           Anakin thought, “Outside of the fact that you would kill a Slave for obeying his Master?” he looked down, “it feels wrong. It feels like…he’s meant to live. Like…like something wants him to live.”

           Qui-Gon hesitated, his own eyes closing, before finally he gave a short smile and a nod. “We’ll discuss it, thank you, Anakin.”

           Anakin paused, looked one more time to the body lying there still, and looked to the others, but finally nodded. “Can I wait just outside?”

           Qui-Gon looked to the other Jedi, who hesitated, before finally giving their own vocal agreements, “that should be fine,” he agreed, and Anakin nodded before going to stand outside.

           The tugging had lessened, Anakin finally felt like he could relax.

___________________________

           Obi-Wan’s heart was still pounding inside of his chest, even as he kept himself perfectly still. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, just that Anakin had started running, and he had gone after him – initially to stop him, and then suddenly, inexplicably, to help him. And as he stood there with his arms crossed in front of him, as he stared at the body lying there still, he felt that same tug.

           Obi-Wan didn’t understand. The Sith were the most dangerous threat to the Galaxy, and yet…and yet.

           As he looked over to his Master, he knew that he was going to have to start explaining, his Master’s was face thoughtful as he stared at him, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath in preparation.

           “Obi-Wan,” his Master said gently, standing up, and walking over towards him. “Will you explain what happened?”

           Obi-Wan was expecting for all the eyes to be on him, which was why he was able to take one more grounding breath, and finally step forward, uncrossing his arms and looking once again, to the Sith sprawled out on the ground. “Should…should we do something about him?”

           Master Windu hesitated for a moment, looking down at the Sith for a beat, before ducking down next to him and slowly pushing him into a proper recovery position before putting his hand over the Sith’s face, his eyes closing, reaching out. Master Windu’s expression twisted slightly, and he visibly pushed harder, his eyes closing tight, and finally backed away. “He rejects any attempt to heal him. I don’t know if it is his own denial or the Force that rejects him.”

           “I don’t believe it’s the Force that rejects him,” Obi-Wan said softly. Master Windu hesitated, before giving a soft hum that might have been agreement. “Have none of you felt it?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how to handle the mixed responses, the way some Jedi nodded in agreement, and others frowned, denials on their faces, on their tongues.  “We…we can’t kill him. The Force calls him, it calls on…it calls on us, too.”

           “Is that what happened with Anakin?” Master Qui-Gon asked.

           “Anakin ran out of the room before I could stop him,” Obi-Wan returned, his eyebrows pinching as he looked down, recalling the feeling that flooded through him as he ran after the boy. “He was going so fast I could barely catch up to him, and at first…at first I ran to stop him, but the more we ran, the closer we got…the more I could feel it. We were meant to get here. We were meant to stop you from killing him.”

           There was a long pause, before the Council of Jedi looked to each other, and then looked to Obi-Wan.

           “We will discuss this,” Master Plo assured quietly, coming up to him, and looking at the Sith lying there. Obi-Wan felt the way that he was staring at the Sith, the force of the stare, and knew that Master Plo felt whatever odd thing had brought him here, too. It made him nod, give a brief bow to the rest of the Jedi, before leaving to stand by where Anakin was sitting. Obi-Wan took a breath, sinking down to sit next to the boy that he had been so uncertain of before, and found a new understanding growing.

           There wasn’t many who could stand before the Council and make demands like that. There were even fewer that could get them to listen.

           Perhaps there was something to this whole idea of the Chosen One after all. If nothing else…the Force was certainly strong with him. Strong enough that Obi-Wan had felt it, too.

           “They won’t kill him, will they?” Anakin asked softly.

           Obi-Wan was silent for a moment, thinking, before looking to the kid next to him. “I don’t think so,” he returned equally softly. “Can you feel it? It feels…at peace.”

           Anakin hesitated, closing his eyes, his head tilting back, and a smile slowly appeared on his face. “Yeah,” he agreed, smiling at him. “You’re right, thank you.”

           Obi-Wan smiled at him, giving a brief nod of his head. “I don’t know what that Sith will bring to us…” he said finally, taking a deep breath and sighing it out.

           “What is a Sith?” Anakin asked, frowning at him, “I heard of them before, it’s a popular curse, but…” he hesitated, giving a slight shrug. “I don’t know what they do.”

           “They’re practitioners of the Dark Side of the Force,” Obi-Wan said, his tone shifting, becoming more like the tone his own Master used to lecture him with. “Seekers of power, pleasure, self… But they do it completely at the expense of others. They felt that true power came from anger, from hate…and they used it endlessly. At one point there were many…but between in-fighting and our own war against them…” he hesitated. “We thought they were wiped out completely. Seeing this one, particularly an Apprentice himself…” Obi-Wan trailed off. “Using the Dark Side of the Force is…evil, Anakin, it’s bending the Force to your own will, twisting it. Did you hold his blade?”

           “No,” Anakin denied softly, “I saw it, it’s…strange. I didn’t know they made them that big.”

           “It’s double-bladed,” Obi-Wan said with a smile.

           “No way,” Anakin whispered, his eyes wide, “that’s…” he hesitated, as though realizing that speaking of his enthusiasm for the design would be taken poorly. Earlier, before the pull of the Force, before Obi-Wan realized that the boy really was the Chosen One his Master saw (and Obi-Wan, the more he thought, was certain of that, had felt it as they ran, had felt it when Anakin threw his arms out before Master Windu, when he stood before the Sith and spoke of slavery)… The statement might have been poorly taken before, but now Obi-Wan could smile.

           “Yes, it is…pretty…ah…” he hesitated, thinking of the proper word, “nice, but if you would touch it, you would be able to feel what the Dark Side does. Did you not feel what he himself felt like?”

           Anakin was silent for a moment, “I did,” he finally said softly. “He feels like a wound.”

           Obi-Wan was surprised. The Sith hadn’t felt like a wound to him, more like…a corruption, a perversion…but now that he thought of it… Perhaps a wound was a better comparison. An infected wound. 

           “The Force hurts, or…perhaps they hurt. Either way it’s a twisting and a perversion.” Obi-Wan took a breath. “They almost took over the Galaxy once. The Jedi were the ones to stop them. Or perhaps they stopped each other. The amount of in-fighting was…horrible. That selfishness again, selfishness above all else.” Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. “Eventually there was the imposition of a rule of two among the Sith, a Master and an Apprentice, and no more. But I had…we had thought, that the Sith was rendered extinct. To suddenly have one appear here…” Obi-Wan shook his head.

           “He’s the Apprentice then,” Anakin said, frowning.

           Obi-Wan was silent for a moment, “Yes,” he said, remembering the way that the Sith had said ‘Master,’ the fear there, the pain… The hatred. “He was.”

           The doors opened then, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin jumped to their feet, backing away. The Sith was lying on a float lift and as he passed Obi-Wan could see that he was breathing. The relief he felt was strong and burned within him, a breath was let out, tension that he hadn’t even noticed falling from his shoulders. They had listened, though Obi-Wan could tell that some of them did not like it. It was enough to know that he still lived. There was hope then.

           Something had finally gone right.

           Master Qui-Gon approached the two of them, nodding towards a nearby room, Obi-Wan immediately following directions, Anakin needing to be ushered by his Master with sweeping gestures. The door was closed behind them and Master Qui-Gon smiled at them when they turned to look at him.

          “Well,” he said softly, and his voice was filled with warmth and a tinge of pride that Obi-Wan ducked his head at. “You two did well,” he said softly, and Obi-Wan smiled, for a moment unable to help it. “I am proud of you. You followed the calling of the Force.”

           Anakin beamed, “I could feel it, Qui-Gon, sir!” he said, and his voice was full of excitement. “I could feel it, and it…it called me, sir. It called me, and I…I had to do something. Will…do you think he’ll be okay?”

           His Master hesitated, frowning, and looking down for a moment, clearly thoughtful. “There’s a long hard road before him, but if it’s the will of the Force…I think it’s going to be fine.”

           “Will we help him, sir?” Anakin asked.

           His Master paused, before kneeling down before him. “I think so, Anakin. I think…that we’re supposed to. And you might be meant to.”

           “Do you think that we’re going to defeat the Sith by turning one of their own against them?” Obi-Wan asked.

           “Perhaps,” his Master said, thoughtfully. “The future is clouded. But I feel…in some ways I feel as though it’s brighter than it was before.” He hesitated, and then looked to Anakin, “Anakin, would you mind waiting outside while I discuss something with my Apprentice?”

           “Jedi stuff?” Anakin asked with a slight cock of his head and a frown.

           “Yes,” his Master said, and there was a smile on his face, a gentle one. “I promise it won’t take but a moment, and we will leave together. The Council wishes to speak to all of us later, but first they are going to be preparing a cell for the Sith.”

           “You don’t know his name?” Anakin asked.

           “Not yet, but we will learn,” his Master nodded.

           “Let me know when you do,” Anakin frowned, “I’ve…been calling him something unkind in my head, and I don’t want to do that anymore.”

           “I will,” his Master promised. “Five minutes, Anakin.”

           “Okay,” Anakin nodded and left the room.

           Obi-Wan held himself as stiff and straight as possible when his Master’s attention turned to him.

           “I am very proud of you,” he said softly, and Obi-Wan nearly collapsed. “You…Padawan, do you know what you did here today, Obi-Wan?” His smile was big and proud and there was a spark of warmth in his eyes that Obi-Wan didn’t know how to handle. “You listened to the Living Force, and you obeyed its call. You did this on your own, you have…” he took a breath, and then reached out, taking hold of his shoulders. “You listened to the Force in the way I have wanted you to listen for so long, Obi-Wan. I’m so proud of you, and I…” he took a breath, “Obi-Wan, I can teach you no more. You have learned all that you can from me, and I want to recommend to the Council that you take your Trials. You’re ready to be Knighted, I am sure of this.”

           Obi-Wan thought he might collapse, the emotions running through him so much, for a moment too much, burning bright behind his careful control, and he breathed them in, breathed them deep, and then breathed them out. “Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan finally managed, and he thought that his voice was steady. “But…are you…are you sure? I do not…”

           “Obi-Wan,” his Master said softly, and there was a soft smile on his face, and a wrinkle between his eyebrows, “This was the last thing I needed to teach you. The one thing I felt…sometimes…despaired of ever teaching you, much to my…my own detriment, Obi-Wan, never yours.” Obi-Wan was still for a moment, testing for a rebuke and finding none. “It was my failure that you never learned, and I am so pleased for you now that you have. This was the last thing, the last of my knowledge to grant you. Everything else I have taught you, and you have learned well, my Apprentice. You are ready. I will tell the Council, and you will be Knighted.”

           Obi-Wan felt a smile spread across his face, unable to really help it. “Thank you, Master,” he whispered, and Qui-Gon shook his head.

           “Call me Qui-Gon. We are to be brothers.”

           Obi-Wan was certain then that his techniques were rendered useless. There was too much happiness within him, and he decided for just a moment to cling to it. He would let it go later, but for now…

          For now, this feeling was his.

           In the coming months, in the coming years…he would find that he would need it.

 __________

           As Qui-Gon finally ushered his soon-to-be-brother (as he was certain the Council would agree, would see what he did, for how could they not) from the room, and collected Anakin with a small smile on his face he reflected.

           The Sith had shattered the calm assurance of the Jedi Council in a way Qui-Gon had never seen, much less felt. Rippling around that Council meeting as the Sith was brought to his knees, his tunic having been ripped from him at some point in the transfer here, the droids on the ship needing more access to the skin beneath in order to insert their needles and clean burned skin. It only served to further illustrate not only the burns and the expected wounds, it bared the evidence of long beatings, and the fact that the tattoos seemed to cover most, if not all, of his body.

           Qui-Gon thought that he was from Dathomir, a colony of the Zabrak people, and his attention had shifted to Koth, whose expression had not changed – but whose feel had tightened.

           Defensive, perhaps.

           The Sith had certainly focused on him quickly.

           Even with this focus, the Sith was calm within the chaos, even in the presence of what Qui-Gon knew were his natural enemies. He even seemed to revel in it, that sharp and brittle edge to him deepening, darkening. Mocking, perhaps.

           Though as the Council began questioning him and he said nothing, as he resisted any effort made to pry within his mind with not only his own natural shielding, but with his very aura, Qui-Gon began to think that he was working on trying to mask his fear. Though the question of what he feared was obvious.

           As the Sith sneered and spat at Windu as the motion was passed to execute – the product of a lot of pain and frustration and recognition that there was no ability to break it from him, as he snarled at the others, Qui-Gon had never been more certain that it was not them that he was afraid of.

           And then Anakin had entered, with Obi-Wan following close behind, the two of them calling out about something that Qui-Gon only now recognized for what it was.

           The Force was weeping.

           It didn’t want him dead, and in their blind haste, to cover up their mistakes, to ignore what was before him…they had been ignoring it.

           Though perhaps that wasn’t entirely it, Qui-Gon frowned. As the Sith was finally brought to unconsciousness, Qui-Gon realized that there had been…a rage within him that he didn’t recognize, and he slowly forced himself to let it go. He watched as the rest of the Council seemed to re-center, and he found himself wondering, idly, if the Sith had something to do with it.

           Qui-Gon even suspected he understood why the Sith wanted to be dead…

           If word got back to his Master of what had happened, if the Sith remained alive for his Master to find…

           Qui-Gon had no doubt that what the Sith did to their Padawans was appalling, and the way that the Sith had reacted, the way that Anakin had insisted on the fact that they were alike, that the Sith was a slave… Qui-Gon found himself looking at his own Padawan with a feeling of great dread and a protective wash flooded him. The idea that Obi-Wan would ever fear him that much…

           Anakin looked up at him then, smiling, and Qui-Gon smiled back instinctively.

           Anakin had proven himself well. Had proven what Qui-Gon had seen, and now that this had happened, Qui-Gon was certain that he would be trained, particularly as he seemed to have resisted the Sith’s influence so well. Though…perhaps, that was because he was stuck within the Living Force so much that there hadn’t been the possibility of being influenced. It would explain why they had both commanded such a presence, why the Sith had allowed himself to speak when he had resisted up until that point. Obi-Wan tossed a glance to him when they drew near their destination, and Qui-Gon smiled at him.

           Qui-Gon was aware of what the Code said about pride, about attachment… He couldn’t quite find it in himself to care. Not about this.

           Qui-Gon stood before the door to the Council room with his two charges framing him. There would be time to talk about the Sith later, but now he had to properly petition for Anakin once more. Now that Anakin had not just stolen away to Naboo and been a deciding force in their victory, but allowed his attachment to the Force to lead him…

           He was relatively certain that there was no way they could refuse his desire for the boy to be trained.

           The Council were stubborn. They were not stupid.

           He hoped.

           Obi-Wan he was not concerned about; they would have seen what he saw. Of this there was no doubt, but he would help them along regardless.

           And then they would figure out what to do about the Sith in their midst.

           They were bidden to enter, and so Qui-Gon looked to each of his charges once more, before stepping forward.

           The Force was with them. It would see them through this trial and what was to come, of this, Qui-Gon was certain.

[graykitten]

Laser Tag

Kaitlyn x MC

I dont.. I don’t even know..

In between all these drama and pranks, MC is starting to stress more and more. So Kaitlyn decided to surprise MC and the gang to a game of laser tag to forget their problems even for just one night and to have fun as a group once again. 

Kaitlyn walks into the apartment and sees her girlfriend sitting on the couch focused on the pieces of evidence they've collected. So focused that she didn't notice Kaitlyn sneaking up behind her with a grin on her face.

"Hi." She whispered as she starts massaging Mc's shoulders.

"Hi," MC replies as she closes her eyes and leans back to Kaitlyn's touch.

"Hey, so I was thinking," still massaging MC, "how do you feel about getting the gang together and play some laser tag?"

"Laser tag?" MC turns around to look at Kaitlyn.

"Yeah, it'll be fun," Kaitlyn says with a goofy smile and starts to move around the couch to sit with her girlfriend.

MC looks at the pieces of evidence then back to Kaitlyn, "I do need a little distraction from this mess."

"I know you do." Kaitlyn grins, "So, what do you say?"

"Okay okay," MC smiles.

"Yes!" Kaitlyn raises her fists in the air.

"I'll call Abbie and Tyler and see if they're up to it and you get Chris and Zack," MC says as she starts to tidy up the pieces of evidence.

"Yes, ma'am." Kaitlyn smiles as she gets up from the couch.

A few moments later*

"Abbie and Tyler are free. They said they'll just meet us there." MC says hanging up.

Kaitlyn walks into the room, "Chris and Zack are in. Zack said they're already on their way."

"We better get going then," MC stated.

Kaitlyn walks over to MC and holds out her hand for MC, "Shall we?"

MC shakes her head, laughs and takes her hand, "Come on," and they walk out the door.

*At the arcade*

"Finally!" MC and Kaitlyn hear Zack shout next to the door leading to the arcade, Chris standing next to him.

"Where's Abbie and Tyler?" MC asks walking over to Zack and Chris Kaitlyn behind her.

"They're already inside," Chris opens the door for everyone, "come on." Everyone walks in and joins Abbie and Tyler already suited up.

"Hey, guys wait up!" Kaitlyn shouts running towards the gears.

MC runs after Kaitlyn, "Hey not so fast!"

Zack shakes his head, "Kids,"

"Ha," Chris laughs. Both of them catching up with the rest of the group.

The gang split up into two teams: Kaitlyn, Abbie, and Chris are team 'Flaming Dragons of Death' and MC, Zack and Tyler as team 'eh'.

When both teams are ready, "The game will start in 3.." The teams hear through the speakers.

"Let's make this game more fun," Kaitlyn says gaining the attention of the group, "Losers gets to buy the winner ice cream,"

"2.."

"You're on Liao," Zack starts walking backward with a grin.

"1.. GO!"

Both of the teams rush to the opposite sides of the room.

"Abbie has been eliminated," Kaitlyn hears as she gets to cover, "That was quick," she whispers to herself.

She looks over the cover and sees Tyler taking cover from Chris. Seeing that Tyler's too distracted with Chris, she gets out of cover, aims, and shoots.

"Tyler has been eliminated," another announcement from the speakers.

"Aww man," Kaitlyn hears Tyler whisper to himself and goes to join Abbie.

Kaitlyn sees Chris give her a thumbs up as she runs towards him for a high five but then she sees Chris' suit light up.

"Chris has been eliminated,"  she hears through the speakers. Followed by a laugh from Zack.

Chris followed the sound of Zack's laugh to see him with a smug smile on his face and his laser gun propped up on his shoulder.

As Zack is too busy being smug, Kaitlyn takes up the opportunity and runs to Chris' side to get a better angle, and aims.

Zack sees her run up next to Chris and aims for him, Zack quickly aims for her.

Kaitlyn and Zack shoot at the same time, the three of them stood there in silence waiting for the announcement.

"Zack has been eliminated," Kaitlyn releases the breath she didn't know she was holding while Zack groans.

Chris walks over to him and pats his back, "Hey, we're both losers," Kaitlyn hears him say to Zack as they both join Abbie and Tyler.

Only two players remain.

Kaitlyn starts to carefully roam around, checking the corners looking for MC as she hasn't seen her since the game began.

After hearing all of the announcements, MC knew that Kaitlyn is the only one left. She has to be careful knowing that she could be anywhere. MC checked a corner to see if there's anyone there, none.

She walks around the corner but then suddenly her back's again the wall Kaitlyn pinning her. MC aims her laser gun and gets ready to shoot Kaitlyn but then she felt Kaitlyn's lips on hers. Her intention of pulling the trigger was forgotten as her eyes fluttered shut.

As she was about to respond to the kiss, "MC has been eliminated, team eh wins," Kaitlyn pulls back with a grin on her face and walks away to join the group leaving MC with a surprised look.

MC facepalms and groans, eventually joining the others. She walks into the room and sees team 'eh' celebrating their victory.

When team 'eh' was done celebrating, she walks up to Kaitlyn and glares at her, "Cheater," Kaitlyn only laughs and kisses her on the cheek and grabs her hand.

"Let's go, you guys still owe us ice cream," Kaitlyn says as the group walks out the arcade.

[stardustpinkart]

Becuase Im not very good at getting things finished, but get lots of ideas, Im putting this rough sketch up with an AU idea(infact I have another for Owl House I should do soon too).

I read a fanfic based on a “Tangled” AU and it gave me the idea for this one.

Encanto-Royal AU

In this au “Encanto” is a magic kingdom with a magical royal family. Queen Alma is the matriach living with her entire family. Everyone was blessed with a gift, except for Princess Mirabel.

Its a diffrent kind of distance however regarding Mirabel in this one. Its more overportective. She has no gift and so her grandmother sees her as more vulnerable, as if she were made of glass. And that people would hurt her or use her to get to the kingdom. And so Mirabel is smothered and wrapped up in cotton wool.

Shes almost always shadowed by guards, her sisters and cousins are encouraged to watch over her or make the hard chioces. She finds Isabela annoying becuase shes so smug, still Grandmas favourite and the “older sister”, Isa always saying stuff like Mirabel should try and act more ladylike and listen to her big sister. She thinks Isa is a sneaky tattletale.

Dolores sometimes feels conflicated about telling on Mirabel(able to hear of course if she’s up to things Grandma has not permtited), but is mixed up to think “Its for her own good”.

Shes not even allowed to ride horses, Abuela goes into conniptions thinking she’ll be thrown off or hurt, despite the fact even little Antonio is permitted to do so(BECAUSE like the others he has a gift).

Her parents are still basically good well meaning and perhaps due to worry, a natural instinct to protect, they sort of go along with Abuela’s ways much like the canon movie. They just dont want her hurt.

The only ones to truly see Mirabel as herself are Bruno, Camilo and Antonio(though hes still a little young to understand the situation fully). There the only ones she can really talk to.

Amongst the diffrences, Bruno is not missing, hes been with the family all these years. He had his own pressures as the only son of the Queen, trying to mold him into a future leader, perhaps even a minature version of his father. Pedro was a good man but you cant mold people into a copy of what you want? Its not fair. And of course he dissapionted her with his odd ways and mannerisms(I do believe like a lot of fans Bruno is neuro devergent, on the Autistic Spectrum.) Trying to get him to behave a certian way, pair him up with ladies of court(I also belive canonly he’d be aromantic). But nothing worked and eventually she gave up. In a way he’s lucky, she pretty much leaves him be now. A bit like how yes Mirabel might get ignroed but on the other hand shes not under constant pressure to behave a certain way like the rest of her family? She has more freedom.

He has his own tower but its not a ridiculous million stairs luckily like his movie room :P. Mira Cami and Antionio visit it constantly, Dolores and Julieta occasinaly(usually checking up on Bruno). Others tend to avoid it as its musty and full of Bruno’s rats.

Thats where Mira is right now visiting her Uncle. I dont imagine Bruno likes the clothes they havta wear but only hasta for special events. Otherwise he can go in more comfortable things. I think his ruana is oversized partly due to sensory issues, its for comfort? I myself cant stand the feel of silk or velvet, I cant desrcibe it but it makes my nerves prickle? Or tight clothes, I like loose.

Other diffrences are ages. Noticable ones would be Isabela and Dolores who are 19, Lusia who is 17, and Cami and Mirabel are 12. I suppose the adults would be younger too, at least ten years or so than there canon selves perhaps?

And a lot of the family still has problems. Mirabel might be swaddled but.

Dolores has been dating the stable boy Mariano for two years in secret. They often meet up to talk, books and poetry and such, she loves how kind and gentle he is and he in turn her shyness and sweet nature. BUT, he is a peasant, grandma will never approve of them getting married though thats what they want. Much like the pressures of the film, the “Madrigals” have an image to uphold, havta be a certain way, Dolores will be expected to marry a prince.

Isabela has similiar frustartions, grandma is constantly trying to press eligibale prince’s on her, a bit like Jasime from Aladdin? Except unlike her Isabela cant say or do what she really thinks, she hasta smile and pretend, be the perfect angel. Really she finds them boring stuffy and horrible. And like her film self is sick of being perfect, she really wants to be herself, for that matter, figure out who the real her is. Still Abeulas favoruite she’s eager to get her married off, contuine the royal line and produce great grandchildren.

Luisa with her magnificent strength is part of the Royal Guard, often leading the troops and something of Mirabel’s bodygaurd. She worries constantly over her baby sister, meaning well as anyone else but nevetheless smothering her. However, Luisa does not want to be part of the gaurd. She hates fighting and going into battle, understanbly its scary and stressful? She has a gentle girlish heart and would rather do things the other ladies do. Walk through the gardens, tea partys, dances, pretty dresses, all the things they get to enjoy, she actually likes all that stuff. But does not get to innact in such things very much at all(infact very little.)

Something will come along of course to open up eyes to everything going on, and make a change for the better, so everyone is healthier and happier. As to what, well, nothings set in stone yet. Though there are a few inklings in my head, such as Mirabel accidently revealing secrets, or running away, or captured. Like what they were so worried about happened anyway and heck they pushed her into it? They overprotected her that she ended up running and in danger? Heck if she just left, and they didnet know where she was, how would they know shes safe? Creating the problem they were trying to avoid by being TOO much.

If anyone would like to see doodles on this, well... Well sometimes I wouldent mind if people asked cuz, I feel like “I wanna draw summin on this... But no ideas”. So sometimes I would apprieciate a suggestion. But im also fickle and like “Ohh I have enough going on my brains gonna burst” XD Any creators out there Im sure you know that conflicting feeling? But, maybe. Anyway, becuase I know what im like, thats why Im putting this up now.