#laandur

even while unconscious, he doesn't become acquainted with peace. what could be a sweet moment of rest where his mind is comfortably blank is abruptly interrupted by an acute pang on his chest  (  borne from some form of anxiety his lowered guard has uncovered, no doubt  )  that makes him wake up in a start, sitting up immediately and feeling his head rush. with a heaving chest and wide eyes, he sees the figure of a woman he doesn't recognise straight away. 

something went amiss.  ❛  who are you?  ❜   demands the fallen jedi.  ❛  where am i?!  ❜  

  ofnegotiatcr  do you ever...

both of you are grounded

𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴: 𝙵𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆 𝙼𝚈 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳. 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳.

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 to be as quick as he claimed to, but it appeared that he fell at a disadvantage where the duchess was concerned. you see, he was used to people being significantly slower on the uptake than he was, and infinitely easier to handle because of it. she was something of a breath of fresh air, a challenge he was most intrigued by. 

she had surprised him by wanting to join in on this case he'd managed to pick up in the undergrounds of mandalore  ––  at least he did manage to prove he had a talent for finding trouble wherever her went  ––  and now surprised him in more ways when she found a way to avoid being seen quicker than he could manage. in the fraction of a second, benoit feels himself being pulled in; the cold air replaced by the warmth of her lips flush against his. shock only overtakes him for a moment before he gives into it, putting his arms around her and kissing her back with fervour. if questioned about it later, he'd claim it was for appearance's sake. 

  Obi-Wan had Dad energy even as a padawan.  Then he...

sTOP

  laandur   @laandur asked:  ❛...

no

   @laandur asked:  ❛ I’m scattered into so many...

no

Don’t go. 

The words were there in his throat, very nearly on his tongue.  He could have said them.  He could have said them and changed everything.  His hand gripped hers, but already he felt her slipping through his fingers.   This wasn’t real.  Satine was gone, and he had never asked her to stay; just as she had never asked him to either.  He felt the hand of her spectre slipping away, her spirit leaving to rejoin the Force as they all were fated to some day.  

His heart broke.  Of all the things he had seen, and done and experienced in this lifetime, there was never a feeling such as this-- it felt like a crack.  Not a fissure slowly growing, but a snap; the kind heard in an earthquake, or across thin ice.  The kind of visceral, primal noise that signaled bad things to come.  

But the ground settled, the ice held and did not plunge him into the freezing dark.   He did not know how-- but for now, he could keep his head above water. 

“I love you, Satine.” He said to her ghost, to no one, in the cell deep within Mandalore, his voice quiet as rain.  He hoped, one day, she might forgive him -- as he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.  

  laandur  ofnegotiatcr  ...

@ofnegotiatcr​ give it 5 minutes i’m sure you’ll make me sad too