𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐑 𝐊𝐔𝐍

At the question, Obi-Wan's hand subconsciously came up to rest on his beard. It had been around Anakin's fifteenth's birthday when he had begun growing it.

He had been a rather self-conscious Master and when Anakin had hit a sudden growth spurt and had shot up to be his height, outsiders couldn't easily tell who was the Master and who the learner, despite Anakin's Padawan braid.

In a desperate bid to appear more mature and wise, and to be easily recognized as the Master, Obi-Wan had decided to grow a beard. It did seem to work, because even though Anakin had grown taller than him, the beard drew people's attention and made Obi-Wan look older than he was.

"No, I quite like my beard," he told Kun. "It managed to fool everyone - including myself - into believing that I'm actually wise and that I know what I'm doing."

Obi-Wan had now been wearing the beard for so long, he wasn't ready to show the world what his naked face looked like. "Why, is it not to your liking too?" he asked curiously. Kun had a handsome face, which a beard would only obscure, but on Obi-Wan's face it simply felt right.

"Sith would call you a Herita. A 'pretty thing' if the language was still spoken today." Many times hes spoken the language to a modern sith and they bore no knowledge in how to read or even speak the language. They just stared at him before attacking. Thinking him a jedi merely because of his saber color. He'd never bled the blade. Bleeding what was already corrupted by a multitude of dark magics was something only a fool would try.

Kun took a seat on a bench as he rubbed his own chin at the question weather he liked Kenobi's beard or not came up. The baby smooth skin mixed with his firm jaw made kun somewhat envious.

"I never could grow a beard. I never grown much of any hair unless it was the hair on my head. The most I can get out of it is a three o'clock shadow." He believed he never truly would have looked good with one." To answer your question. I like the beard. I was just curious." He smiled lightly.

The jedi were growing on him. Slowly. But the blade he bore prevented full transision. He never let go of it. Ever since his blade was sealed away in the depths of a jedi temple he never let it go since he escaped Yavin Four and re-obtained it.

The beard in question did a good job at concealing Obi-Wan's blush when Kun praised his appearance. Unfortunately he blushed all the way down to his neck and chest, not to forget the ears.

But more importantly was how oddly appealing the language sounded. "You speak it fluently?" Kun must be the only one around who still spoke ancient Sith. That had to be a rather lonely experience. "I do love to learn new languages. Perhaps you could teach me?"

Of course it may be an odd thing to want, to learn ancient Sith as a Jedi, but there was no harm to it. Obi-Wan viewed it very scholarly. He wanted to learn.

Besides, Kun's whole person had shown him that sometimes matters weren't as clear cut as Obi-Wan hoped they would be. Kun was more of a dark Jedi instead of a Sith and his saber was unbled and yet Obi-Wan knew of it's corrupting powers.

Kun's admission that he wasn't able to grow a beard was endearing. Obi-Wan sat down on the bench next to him and reached for Kun's hand. He brought the palm up against his bearded cheek, letting Kun feel it. "Not all beards are as soft as mine," he bragged teasingly. "It takes a lot of work to get it this way."

"I learned the language through my own corruption. When Freedon Nadd touched my soul. But I'm sure with some work. We can get you reading and speaking it." He smiled lightly before he grabbed his hand.

He would not allow most to touch him like he was. But to be touched so gently. And guided over to his beard that felt so smooth between his fingers he couldn't help but lean into Obi-wan's touch once he placed his hand on his baby smooth skin in return.

It felt so unnatural to keep it blunt. No physical contact for so long he couldn't help but be just as red when he realized how red Obi-wan himself was.

His face burned up. His eyes were watery. Going back to a time where he felt himself become something destructive.

"I've..killed trillions compared to today's war..destroyed eight solar systems all to obtain treasure that you're predecessors deemed important. Are you sure..I'm worth your embrase..?" His face wasnt the only thing that was red..

Was he..crying? Regret? Was he regretting his past choices? Suddenly everything around him felt thick. His breathing keyboard as a memory of hearing every scream in the countless solar systems that exploded thanks to Naga Sadow's Flagship. He gripped his pant leg as tears flowed. His body tense.

"I was so..desprate..to become something I was never meant to be.." he shook his head. Innocent lives sacrificed for a small window. For inanimate objects on the old home world of the jedi. "There are so many better than I, Kenobi. Why grace me with affection when i deserve nothing but a blade through the chest for the accursed things I've done." He asked. His lip twitched. If he dug into his pant leg any deeper he would put holes in them.

At the question, Obi-Wan's hand subconsciously came up to rest on his beard. It had been around Anakin's fifteenth's birthday when he had begun growing it.

He had been a rather self-conscious Master and when Anakin had hit a sudden growth spurt and had shot up to be his height, outsiders couldn't easily tell who was the Master and who the learner, despite Anakin's Padawan braid.

In a desperate bid to appear more mature and wise, and to be easily recognized as the Master, Obi-Wan had decided to grow a beard. It did seem to work, because even though Anakin had grown taller than him, the beard drew people's attention and made Obi-Wan look older than he was.

"No, I quite like my beard," he told Kun. "It managed to fool everyone - including myself - into believing that I'm actually wise and that I know what I'm doing."

Obi-Wan had now been wearing the beard for so long, he wasn't ready to show the world what his naked face looked like. "Why, is it not to your liking too?" he asked curiously. Kun had a handsome face, which a beard would only obscure, but on Obi-Wan's face it simply felt right.

"Sith would call you a Herita. A 'pretty thing' if the language was still spoken today." Many times hes spoken the language to a modern sith and they bore no knowledge in how to read or even speak the language. They just stared at him before attacking. Thinking him a jedi merely because of his saber color. He'd never bled the blade. Bleeding what was already corrupted by a multitude of dark magics was something only a fool would try.

Kun took a seat on a bench as he rubbed his own chin at the question weather he liked Kenobi's beard or not came up. The baby smooth skin mixed with his firm jaw made kun somewhat envious.

"I never could grow a beard. I never grown much of any hair unless it was the hair on my head. The most I can get out of it is a three o'clock shadow." He believed he never truly would have looked good with one." To answer your question. I like the beard. I was just curious." He smiled lightly.

The jedi were growing on him. Slowly. But the blade he bore prevented full transision. He never let go of it. Ever since his blade was sealed away in the depths of a jedi temple he never let it go since he escaped Yavin Four and re-obtained it.

[Tassir kun]

Darius's blood ran cold. He knew that tone, that soft silky tone, like the caress of a deactivated vibroblade. He'd heard it come out of his own mouth after his capture during the liberation of Coruscant, in the times he walked Tassir's ship in Imperial uniform instead of his Beskar. He'd heard it in his head when the Batu pool had been expunged from the surface, and with every involuntary motion until he'd been rescued from Tassir's slimy grip by "Presence" and the Batu pool survivors.

His arms wanted to lock, his grip to fail, his knees to buckle with terror. But he kept his grip, holding onto the glowing red holocron he'd just grabbed. They'd come so far into the crust of Geonosis. Was this whole brain-worm thing a gambit of Tassir's to search for the Holocron? Or was it just a game he was playing now, watching his old host struggle? How had he gotten Kun in the first place??? Had the clones really been that effective against him?

Darius felt his hand prickle, like iron dust jutting from a lodestone.

Fear was the first step to the Dark Side. Fear, and then Anger, then Hate, and then Suffering. It was something his father on Esverr had told him, how Darr'thumbra clouded one's vision, one's mind, and poisoned one's soul like tree rot. It didn't cloud Kun's aim though and Darius knew Tassir could kill him in a moment with the sheer power Exar Kun possessed.

'If the Dark Side is what I need to use to get out of this, then help me,' he thought, directing his thoughts to the holocron. 'You're a sith artifact - help me! I can't use the force but if the dark side can open it up to me, then do it! Help me use the force to survive!'

The holocron glowed slightly, but he felt something, a tingling went up his arm that he couldn't tell if it was hot or cold. Then... an idea...

The Mandalorian took a breath and knelt down, bowing his head before the Sith. "You wouldn't kill your favorite, Tassir," he said in an even tone before lifting his head. "Just like Kun wouldn't kill Ulic."

His former host stood before him terrified. Looking at an ancient artifact for help was merely a sense of pathetic reprieve. Till he kneeled..and bowed his head.

Tassir cranes his neck to the side. His new body bending as he rose a brow. Listening to him talk. And then..that name.

In the darkness of his mind in his meditative state the name echoed through the mind space like a deep forbidden chant. 'Ulic'. The name reverberated through the walls like a mantra. His shut meditating eyes shooting open as rage instantly took over.

His greyish silver eyes becoming bloodshot with anger as his internal blood boiled as he clenched his fist. And a burst of power more that Tassir could handle expunged itself from Kun's body.

A burst of force energy blasted itself from Kun's body in reality. His body stiff and struggling to move as Tassir realized the extent of what one name had given Kun. He wasnt gripping to his own body. He was holding the worm in his head with the force. A telepathic sense that made Tassir scream in Kun's body.

"How!? No! Not ye-" he was cut off as his sentenced turned to an angered scream. His expression shifting from fear..to seer unadulterated wrath as his hand raised to his ear. Blood pooling from the appendage as the worm forcefully was pulled into Kun's hand. His expression stiff and unmoving as he took quick uneven breaths at a poor attempt to calm down.

"You dare..control my body. Worm!?" With his hand he dropped the insect. And with the soul of his boot. Crushed it beneath his foot with a mighty splat. His anger slowly subsiding as he looked to Darius.

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

send 🚢 or ( 'SHIP' ) if you ever considered shipping our characters romantically and want me to fill out the following form for our muses. bold all that definitely applies, italicize what could potentially apply. feel free to add more if you think certain options are missing or you just want to add more.

do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between ( what specifically? )

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: ( put whatever you want here )

Ill & Injured Sentences, Vol. 4

(Sentences for muses that don't feel so great, and for muses trying to take care of another. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Yeah, I don't need a psychiatrist, okay?"

"It's amazing how fragile the human skeleton can be."

"You take a moment, alright? It's nothing a little a little sunshine and fresh air can't fix. You'll be as right as rain!"

"What happened to my head, it's not something that gets better."

"My whole brain's a bunch of missing pieces."

"Bite this. This'll hurt."

"Officially, I was dead for two minutes."

"A concussion with a previous history of brain injury is a very serious situation!"

"I got shot once. It makes you think about death."

"Does anyone know how sick you are?"

"What happened to your hand? You're bleeding."

"I liked you better when you were dying."

"I have no intention of dying. I have far too much to do."

"The drug should have worn off by now..."

"It fucking hurts to be shot!"

"It looks like you've got a minor concussion. You're going to stay awake for another eight hours. If you fall asleep and there's swelling, there's a good chance you could end up in a coma."

"You should take it easy. This is getting a little weird, even for you."

"Don't worry, it's not my blood."

"When exactly was the last time you had a psych evaluation?"

"How about a cup of tea for the shock?"

"I was saying something. What was I saying?"

"You've made a brave show of things, but you are very ill."

"Your nose is going to heal up like a crooked boot, but you're going to have to accept that."

"Are you going to die soon?"

"We know less about the brain than any other organ in the body."

"If you can't trust your own mind, then what have you got?"

"Just a quick tip; you never want to block a punch with your face."

"I don't recall asking for your medical advice."

that's tough.

nice try.

so long.

get lost.

you win.

one more.

i failed.

that's impossible.

try again.

no shot.

believe me.

so... tomorrow?

call me?

too harsh.

this way!

be proactive.

think again.

don't move.

keep low.

you’re joking.

nobody knows.

you coming?

get fucked.

stop that.

not here.

watch yourself.

let’s go.

stay here.

no way.

don’t stop.

keep quiet.

be still.

stop yelling!

now what?

i knew.

where to?

i’m done.

don’t shoot.

try me.

it stopped.

i’m sick.

you’re right.

we’re fucked.

absolutely not.

you’re serious.

you bitch.

fuck off.

eat shit.

nice outfit.

slow down.

no trespassing.

what now?

i’m lost.

since when?

listen here.

who’s that?

go away.

leave now.

stay down.

please stop.

i’m certain.

this sucks.

please listen.

everything hurts.

nevermind that.

fuck you.

we agree?

you knew?

how come?

it’s you.

i disagree.

that’s them.

you’re miserable.

we can’t.

everyone leaves.