#moonsoflego

'until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction. be mindful of what is, not what might be.' he's heard it once - twice, perhaps, from masters that catch his dwelling mood. it's ever-present now, however, mere days after the return from zyggeria. a bittersweet outcome, he thought, as he aided in the data reports back to the council, the people of kiros joining the republic when their wrists are only newly unshackled. ghosting through the galaxy has brought him just the thing he has been warned of - distraction. it is easy to forget how much suffering prevails in smaller systems, still rot with starved power and slavery. he has never desired to hide from his past, but the war has allowed him to, in some extent.

“   You've   been   a   loyal   friend,   and   you   must   know   that   your   efforts   have   not   gone   unnoticed.   ”      Padmé   tells   the   clone,   a   hand   rests   upon   his   shoulder   as   a   means   to   show   she   was   being   genuine   with   her   words—   she   wanted   him   to   truly   know   this. “   Had   it   not   been   for   you,   we   might   not   have   made   it   out.   ”   :·ﾟ*•. ✶ @moonsoflego - CLOSED

"What do—" She clears her throat, and increases the volume of her voice, trying to speak over all the noise nature is making. The rain keeps getting rougher. "What do we do? Which way do we go?" If he wants to call the shots, well, she's going to let him. Half because she has no idea what direction they came now and half because she wants to prove that she does trust his judgment.

MORNING AFTER STARTERS // accepting

@moonsoflego: “ there’s no way i can hide these marks… ” ( from pads ! )

“So don’t.” Anakin grinned shamelessly from where he lay, propped up on one arm to watch her. He treasured mornings like this; the chance to wake up slow and lazy, his wife warm and soft with sleep next to him, not having to tear themselves apart and leave in a rush. He hoarded these moments, held them greedily to his heart. They happened so rarely and never lasted long enough.

He let himself lay there and take in his wife's beautiful form and the marks he had left down the delicate collum of her neck and across her collarbones. There were other marks, in more discrete areas, but those were the ones he knew she spoke of. He wanted everyone to see them, to know that he had left them there, that she was his just as he was hers. But of course, he knew that wouldn’t happen - couldn’t happen.

        he’s been scrubbing for hours now, a red smudge still standing out against the factory grey paint of the falcon. and he’d been muttering for nearly as long as he’d been scrubbing. chewie was on other business, which meant han was alone to mutter about the stupid rebels as he attempt to erase their graffiti from his beloved ship. he almost missed the sound of approaching footsteps, and turned only long enough to see that, yes, it was the most frustrating rebel of them all. he turned back to his work. ‘ princess, if any of your rebels come near the falcon with any bit of paint ever again, the falcon and i are out. ‘

Unfortunately, he'd been detained by the Council and told that he couldn't risk upsetting the balance by going to rescue his padawan. It had frustrated him more than anything. Especially since he knew Ahsoka was in trouble. But there hadn't been much he could do and for once he'd decided to follow the Council's orders. Until he'd decided they had sat on their hands far too long. The last thing he wanted was for his padawan to think he'd abandoned them. If he could've been there sooner he would have. Instead, Anakin had been stuck waiting for the right moment. At least now he'd been able to get to her and from what he could tell she wasn't too worse for wear. But until they talked, he wouldn't know the extent of what happened. And they could only talk once they were on his ship. "The Council wouldn't give their permission and I wasn't about to stand by and do nothing. Are you okay?"

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questions for the mun / accepting