I THINK. Tsubomi Shoild B An Esper

I really wanted to know why Oda and Toei changed Ace's old actor and yassified him, so I made an edit with his old design (maintaining its striking physical characteristics), because I really like crack Ace of Alabasta

reblog this if your icon could kill a man

Please tag me for the next chapter! This is honestly the best anakin fic I’ve ever read!

My Very Soul (Chapter 28)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 27

Warnings: canon inconsistencies (general warning #1: just going to say this here—I'm not planning on following clone wars plots in this at all, so just go with it haha), mentions of death/grief, implied spice (still and always rated teen!) (plus general warning #2: the chapters that are coming will be heavier/angstier as the war progresses, so...tread carefully)

*temporarily using Lorenzo gifs for the "short curls" effect*

Summary: You struggle to master a new skill, all the while being plagued by new nightmares; a sweet reunion is interrupted

Word Count: 3.6k

"This is useless," you grunted, wiping sweat from your brow and pulling your saber back into your favored defensive position.

       "Imagine where you would be," Master Yuma said in her annoyingly calm, even tone, "if you gave up each time a skill proved difficult to master." You sighed.

       "No skill has ever been this difficult," you complained, watching Master Yuma hold her green blade up in front of you. "I think we might need to admit we've finally come upon the limits of my ability."

       Master Yuma cocked her head, then clicked the button to switch off her lightsaber. The training room was now illuminated only by your saber blade, its green light still alien to you. You'd lost your lightsaber—the one you'd made yourself, as a youngling—on Geonosis. When you'd undergone the process again, you'd found yourself with a different colored blade. This had worried you; could this perhaps be indicative that your powers were changing? That perhaps you were losing some of your ability? Everyone had told you not to worry about it. You'd heard stories of Jedi who had forged different colored blades at different points in their training, you reminded yourself. And, of course, Master Yuma's saber blade was green. Surely the color didn't mean you were less powerful now; Master Yuma was one of the most powerful Jedi you knew. Still, while you swung your new blade around, something felt off. Different.

       "Maybe we should try a different approach, today," Master Yuma said, exhaling slowly. You followed her lead, switching off your lightsaber.

       "What do you mean?" you asked warily. Master Yuma gestured for you to follow her over to the meditation chamber adjacent to the training room. In here, the light was even lower, and the fabric-covered walls muted the sounds of the traffic outside. You couldn't hear the passing speeders from this room—all was quiet.

       "Sit," Master Yuma instructed, and you let the air out of your chest, trying to push out your frustration.

       "Master, it's been six months, and we haven't made any progress. Don't you think—"

       "No," Master Yuma cut you off, putting her finger to her lips to shush you. You felt your eyebrows pull down into a frown. Master Yuma had insisted, after the Battle of Geonosis, that you learn greater control of your empathic abilities before you be given the task of commanding a battalion of clones in the war. At the time, you'd agreed, wanting to pacify your Master, and thinking that it wouldn't take long for you to learn the skills necessary to make sure no dark-sider was ever again able to incapacitate you through the Force. However, though you'd put all of your effort into it, you just couldn't seem to turn your intuition off. Together, you and your Master had tried everything. Still, you couldn't help but read in Master Yuma's presence now her patience, her understanding at your frustration, and, above all, her intense worry for you. You could even feel the presences passing by outside in the Temple hallway. Though you had been working to turn off your ability to intuit what others' were thinking and feeling, it seemed like all of the work you'd done had had the opposite effect. Your powers were growing more sensitive. It was like a bunch of hushed emotions were passing around you, all the time. You had to actively work to ignore them, to focus on the moment.

       If you were being truthful with yourself, your eagerness to become a general had nothing to do with a desire to help the war effort. When you thought about the war, you felt an odd, displaced feeling in your middle. It was like taking a bite of  something that didn't taste the way it should—something was just a bit off, but nobody else seemed to notice. Of course, you wanted to do your part to help preserve the republic, but you knew your desire to get onto the battlefield had more to do with joining him in the trenches than it did with becoming a soldier.

       Anakin, now the leader of the 501st clone battalion, had been off-world more and more as the war had progressed. You longed to join him, to fight alongside him, to make sure you could protect him from harm. Above all else, you missed him terribly. When he was gone, thinking of him felt like physical pain. It felt as if the walls of the Temple, once your safe haven, were closing in on you, like you were trapped here.

       You tried to wipe the scowl from your face as you sat on the meditation ottoman facing Master Yuma's. You recognized that she had felt where your thoughts had turned, and you breathed, pushing out your anger and frustration. You knew it wasn't anything but care and protectiveness that made Master Yuma so hesitant to let you join in the war effort. You knew this, and you knew also that, as a Jedi Knight, you weren't beholden to her judgement the way you had been as a Padawan. Though you'd thought about appealing to the council, about trying to convince them it was time for you to join in the fighting, you'd decided that you couldn't betray Yuma's trust like that. Not after everything she'd done for you.

       "Okay," you said, breathing evenly now, your thoughts calmed. "What did you have in mind?" You felt the answer swirling in Master Yuma's thoughts, and you frowned.

       "It won't be pleasant," Master Yuma began, looking at you with apologetic eyes.

       "Shocker," you said, the sides of your lips pulling up in a small grin.

       "I've been wondering for some time, now," Master Yuma explained, ignoring your sarcasm, "about the proper motivation. About how to make you want to shut out the presences of those around you." You held your breath, waiting for her to continue. "If you are willing..." Master Yuma paused, watching your face.

       "I'm willing. What do you want to try?" You asked, impatience slipping into your presence once again.

       "Instead of thinking of certain things, trying to distract you in combat," Master Yuma explained, her eyes lowering, "I want to try to...enter into a meditative state, with you. I want you to see if you can find a way to keep my presence out."

       "And you want to motivate me to do so...by thinking of things..."

       "That I believe you will find unpleasant. Yes." Master Yuma's eyes softened, showing her concern.

       "Let's get on with it, then," you said, breathing out through your mouth and closing your eyes, flipping your palms to face them upward in your preferred meditation pose. You heard Master Yuma breathe out as well, and felt her discomfort and guilt. You pushed out with your feelings, trying to encourage her. Couldn't she see that your frustration wasn't with her? That your impatience had nothing to do with her training? You hadn't seen Anakin in over—

       It began quickly. You felt yourself descending into Master Yuma's presence, feeling with her into the depths of her mind, into her memories. It was all so much more real in meditation than it was when you read her passing thoughts during combat. You felt as if you were experiencing Master Yuma's memories, as if you were there, seeing with her eyes. She was meditating on you, as a small child, watching Dallum push you down in the courtyard. You'd scraped your elbow, and started to cry. Yumi stood nearby, laughing with the others. You flinched, slightly, but it wasn't a bad memory, really. Not anymore. You wondered where Dallum was now. You remembered, though, that you were supposed to be blocking out Master Yuma's presence, and you began trying to extricate your mind from hers.

       The memory shifted quickly. You felt with Master Yuma another memory, this one less familiar. It was a memory you weren't present for. Anakin and Henry were staring at each other murderously, the ground of a senate apartment littered with debris and shards of glass that were rumbling in the Force. Obi-Wan said something to calm the situation, and you watched as Anakin's face turned away, his angry façade falling into a pained expression. This tugged at your heart strings a bit more. You hated to watch him in pain.

       The memory shifted again before you could get your bearings. Here was Anakin, again, charging at Count Dooku, trying to take him alone. You gasped. You watched in terror through your closed eyelids as Anakin was quickly overtaken by Dooku, watched as the love of your life screamed in pain, watched as the lower third of his arm was cut from the rest of him. You balled your open palms into fists. Master Yuma replayed this memory, and you worked in your mind, trying to pull each of the fibers of her thoughts away from you in the Force, trying to push away Master Yuma's memories, push her entire presence out of your head. It wasn't working.

       Master Yuma's mind shifted again. You'd been here before. You stood, now, in the arena on Geonosis. You watched yourself kneeling over Eha, screaming for her, watched her dead eyes staring into nothing. You clenched your teeth with the effort, trying in vain to push Master Yuma's presence out of your mind, but you couldn't do it. It felt like each mind fiber of connection through the Force needed to be carefully disentangled—but the problem was, there were millions of fibers, and even as you used your effort to pull back two or three of them, more grew into place. You just couldn't sort through the mess enough to dispel Master Yuma's presence from your mind.

       And, truthfully, there wasn't anything Master Yuma could show you that would motivate you in the way she was suggesting. She didn’t know that you were already plagued by visions much worse than the ones she showed you.

       You hadn’t told anyone about the nightmares, the visions that came for you every night when you went to sleep. When you closed your eyes after a long day of training, you already saw unpleasant, terrible things. It started out like a fog, like some kind of cold darkness descending after you when you were alone. It felt like an echo of what Count Dooku had done to your mind, on Geonosis, and part of you worried that the Sith had infected your mind, somehow, that they'd left their mark on you. Whenever you were alone, if you closed your eyes to sleep, you saw all of it, every horrible vision Master Yuma could think of and so much worse. Anakin killing and maiming every member of that indigenous tribe on Tatooine; little Leve, unmoving in the Geonosis sand, her limbs splayed out from under her; Dallum’s screams as Eha stared into the black nothingness of death. Not Yuma, not even Anakin knew what you saw when you closed your eyes at night. You saw other things too, things that hadn’t happened. Things you hoped never would: a war torn galaxy; people fleeing from huge ships and men in white armor, men that didn't look like clones, men who were attacking people at will; a coldness seeping across the universe, into everything. You sucked in a breath.

       "It's not working," you exhaled, opening your eyes to find Yuma staring at you.

       "What was all that?" Master Yuma asked, her eyes narrowing. You felt your stomach drop. You'd forgotten to pull your presence back into yourself, in the effort of trying to wade through the tangle of Yuma's memories.

       "Nothing," you said unconvincingly, looking down at your hands.

       "That didn't look like nothing." Master Yuma's voice shook. You sat in silence for a moment, avoiding her eyes. Suddenly, the door to the meditation room opened.

       "General Ohno," the clone stated, walking through the door and nodding to you and Yuma. You broke your meditation pose, flexing your fingers, sore from being balled into tight fists.

       "Marlo," Yuma greeted the commander of her clone battalion. "What is it?"

       "You're wanted in the council chambers, General," Marlo reported, all business. "It's urgent." Master Yuma nodded, and quickly stood up.

       "We aren't finished with this," she mumbled under her breath, giving you a severe look before turning and following the clone out into the hallway. You groaned, watching her retreating form.

You walked through the halls of the Temple and back to your quarters slowly, lost in thought.

       You couldn't pinpoint the exact reason for your unease. Was it that you weren't making any progress? New skills had always come easily to you, and you could admit that the difficulty you were facing now, in trying to halt your intuitive abilities, had you feeling a little downhearted. But—no. It wasn't that.

       Was it the war? The general emotional atmopshere of the Temple and its inhabitants had changed drastically in the last six months. You knew this better than anyone, being able to sense the feelings of those around you. But that didn't seem right, either.

       Was it restlessness? This was the longest you'd gone without a mission since you were a youngling. You knew the long days of training in the Temple, and the days of studying strategy while Master Yuma was away, were starting to wear on you. But—no. You knew that wasn't it.

       The feeling inside of you now felt heavy, dark, and empty. It was like your insides could contain an echo—there was too much space. It frightened you. You were feeling lonely, you realized. You felt alone, very much alone. You couldn't share with Master Yuma all of the things that troubled you. You'd lost your best friend, you'd lost some of your other old friends, and you barely ever saw any of the friends you still had in the Temple. When Anakin was away, it felt like you were alone in the universe, the center of your own very empty galaxy.

       You sighed. There was nothing you could do, you realized, but bear this feeling the best you could. There wasn't a way out of this emptiness. You simply had to endure it.

       You pushed the panel on the wall and entered the opening door into your Jedi apartment, kicking off your boots. The apartments afforded to Jedi Knights were simple, but comfortable. The one-bedroom unit had a spacious living room with seating and a table, attached to a kitchen that contained all of the basic fares and necessary appliances. The bedroom, too, was comfortable. However, as of late you'd found the big bed too empty. Sleep had been torturous, whenever you'd been able to sleep at all.

You flicked on the lights and glanced out the window at the setting Coruscanti sun. The best part of this new apartment was by far the windows—they were much larger than those in your Padawan dormitory. You loved the natural light. You stood, for a moment, admiring the view, allowing the pangs of your empty feeling to overwhelm you, wiping a quick tear from the corner of your eye.

       It was only then that you felt the disturbance. Faster than lightspeed, you pulled your presence back into yourself, assessed your surroundings, and tensed your muscles, readying to strike with your hand on your saber. In this millisecond of preparation, you reached out with the Force, trying to sense what the danger was. But—

       "Oh," you breathed, feeling the Force presence in the air and almost collapsing as you turned, quickly, and reached out for him.

       "You're usually more difficult to sneak up on," Anakin said in a low, quiet voice, his smile illuminated by the golden sunset streaming in through the blinds.

       "Ani," you sighed contentedly, putting your arms around his neck and holding yourself close to him, allowing his presence to wash over you, bathing you in the feeling of rightness and peace.

       "I missed you, too," Anakin said, a little louder, putting his hands on either side of your face and pulling you back so he could look at you. "More than you know," he continued, leaning in and holding his face inches from yours.

       "What happened on Florrum?" you tried to ask, but Anakin was pressing his lips to yours, enthusiastically, without restraint. He lifted you up into his arms and placed you on the counter in the kitchen.

       "I'd rather discuss that later," Anakin whispered hastily, slyly sliding your knees apart with his hand and stepping between them.  

       "That sounds reasonable," you agreed breathlessly, completely amenable to his desires. You felt Anakin's shoulders move as he laughed, then felt him press his hands more firmly around the sides of your neck, kissing you with reckless abandon. You loved Anakin when he was like this—when the passion of your reunion took away some of his politeness, when he was just a little bit less careful with you, when he couldn't help himself. He grabbed onto you now, his Force presence blaring his joy into the air, and didn’t let go.  

       You woke up the next morning with the feeling that you'd slept longer than usual. With Anakin next to you, your nightmares had evaded you, and you smiled, your eyes still closed, reaching out for him through the sheets. Your hands came up empty. Your eyelids blinked open.

       You saw the light of the morning through the blinds on the bedroom window, saw from a distance the traffic passing by outside. You saw the sparse room and soft white sheets mussed. But you were in this room alone.

       Panic struck your heart quickly, and your eyes widened. Surely Anakin couldn't have left already? Surely he wouldn't be gone again so soon, leaving you alone here, with your feeling of emptiness, your impossible training, your nightmares—

       You got out of bed, breathing a little too quickly as you walked, barefoot, into the kitchen.

       Here you let out a slow, relieved sigh. Anakin stood with his back to you, working the caf machine, his tunic tied sloppily, the hair on the back of his head messy from sleep. You glided over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

       "Good morning," he said quietly, and you felt him grab your hand and pull it up so he could kiss your fingers. You stepped back as he turned to face you.

       "I like your longer hair," you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his new, short curls. Anakin smiled back, the praise causing a slight pink to grace his cheeks.

       "I like your everything," Anakin laughed, tracing your face with his fingertips. You stood this way, looking into each other's eyes, for a long moment. The caf machine beeped at you.

       "What have I missed, while I was gone?" Anakin asked as he turned and started to pour the caf into small cups. The way Anakin phrased this question was odd—as if he were being careful, as if he were worried about the answer.

       "Absolutely nothing," you grumbled, taking the cup from Anakin and following as he lead you over to the couch. "Everything's been the same, here. Painfully so." Anakin sat next to you on the cushions and put his arm around you, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

       "I doubt that," Anakin said, still careful.

       "It's true," you answered, staring straight ahead. The only updates were ones that you needed to keep to yourself. "I'm sure you have much more exciting stories."

       "When does Master Yuma think you'll be ready? You know, to join us—"

 "Tell me about Florrum!" You cut him off, avoiding his eyes. "You were there for so long—has the situation improved, at all?"

       "Well," Anakin said, grinning, leaning forward to put his cup onto the side table. You knew he was gearing up to tell you of all of his strategic maneuvers, all of his triumphs as general in the war. He truly was a natural at this, and though you admired his skill, as always, there was a part of you that felt a disquiet. Was it because you were envious? You didn't know. For now, though, you were happy to change the subject.

       "We had secured the western front," Anakin was saying, and you snapped your attention back to focus on his story. "Rex was—"

       But Anakin was cut off by a beeping, coming from the chrono he'd taken off last night. It sat on the kitchen counter, blinking up the codes from its illuminated face. Your heart sank so far, it seemed to you it had disappeared out of your body all together.

       "Not yet," you said softly, your eyes widening, your breathing fast. "You can't leave again already." Anakin kept his arm firmly around you, but you could feel his eyes on your face. You realized you'd absentmindedly grabbed onto the sleeve of his tunic with a vice-like grip. You loosened it, with effort.

       "We don't know what it is," Anakin said, his voice unsure, leaning over to kiss your cheek before getting up to check the chrono and read through his summons. "It could just be for a strategic meeting, or—" Anakin broke off, turning his head back toward the direction of the bedroom. It was only then that you heard another beeping sound. You got up quickly, going to the door.

       "It's coming from my chrono," you whispered, your panic turning to confusion. Anakin's face broke into a wide grin. You turned around to look at him, your eyebrows upturned, not understanding. "I'm...being called to the briefing?"

       "It's about time," Anakin said smugly. "We're back!"

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WE'RE BACK!! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter. Or, if you want your tag changed, comment that too.

divider credit to @racingairplanes

taglist: @iyoogi @cluelessgurl @layazul @annadastra @graciexmarvel @galaxiasy @organasith @indigoblues1207 @outoftheregular @katsukiswrld @prettyboyrryy @jellydodger @wildflower57 @padmeamidalaslover @em-asian @heavenseraph @iloveinej @leapofblank @sahverah @elsyyie @usuallyunlikelyfox @jadeonce @papadragun @dopejellyfishfury @stxrrielle @lilianashomaresparza @prettylittlecarstairs @deadunicorn159 @atoelicker @arelisskywalker @maythefloorbewithyouanakin @your-local-crzy-lady @dontmindme262 @xenochuguardian @cassiopeiashift @allihavenegativethoughts @hamiltonwc @1-800-nostalgiaaa @heyitsaloy @haydenchristensenluvbot @sunflwrsunnieshine @muthafuckingstargirl @window-to-nothing @shadowhuntyi @jedi-archives @inmourningforanakin @vivsmcdo @betrund @ahqkas @aquaamethyst96 @escapepoet @randomstuff2040 @kenjikishimotosupremecy @nycweb-slinger @anxlaufeyson @magic-magnoliaa @theezlife @unipugrose22-blog @anhsoka @lucyysthings @hopefulpursepeanutdeputy @captainson-of-coul @zelzablues @chrisevansslutttt2

That post about death note being "everyone's first anime" (untrue statement) made me curious and now I want to gather data for science

Can you reblog this and tell me where are you from and what was your starter anime?

teruki, the walking pantene commercial 

SNAP SNAP SPARK SPARK

Any tips for panel layout for pacing? I feel like yours really lends itself to the stories u tell.

thank u. its random comic tips which may or may not answer your question time, cookie edition

did that help

will graham tries to solve the mystery of who’s been smoking all the Weed with the help of Harijuana Lecter