The Struggle Is Real (x)

Part 1/7 - Next

Track: ‘This Is War’ - Thirty Seconds to Mars

Rex’s general, his friend and brother, was laying beaten and broken below him. Anakin had done everything he could, had done everything right, and in those last moments realized that he was still in the wrong. That if he was the one to kill Palpatine it would be in hate, and that the war would never end as a vindictive evil was born. Anakin would lose everything he was, become everything he hated. And it was with shaking hands he had lowered his saber from the Sith Lords neck.

The former chancellor barely hesitated a second. As soon as he realized Anakin had managed to hang on his light Palpatine had struck him down in a blaze of lightning; and Anakin now clung to a life he felt he didn’t deserve at Rex’s feet, amongst the ash and carnage of Mustafar.

The battle around them continued to rage as everyone, Jedi, friends, brothers, continued falling left and right. Rex could see Palpatine slowly recovering atop the factory, his cackling seeming to resonate over the entire battlefield. He had won. The chosen one had failed, and Palpatine could feel the hope, the light, draining from the galaxy.

Rex gasped and turned away, eyes meeting Ahsoka's. They were worn, older than they should ever be. The white of her montrals was a mess, and her face pale, but she fought on and Rex found it in himself to feel proud of who she had become despite everything. Even now he could see her thinking, trying to find a solution. Her eyes suddenly closed and after a breath she seemed to have found one.

In him.

“Rex,” she rasped, face suddenly lighting up. “Rex, this isn’t our fight. It’s yours.”

Rex stared at her, instinctively going to argue before something stopped him. The world around him seemed to become muted, and a tug, or a pressure, something in him was insisting she was right. It whispered assurance like the Jedi, laughed like his brothers, and gave him hope like his sister before him now, with her eyes as sure as beskar.

He felt himself hold out his hand, and her lightsaber was placed firmly in it. Then he was bending down and picking up Anakin's from where it was gathering ash beside him. And as Rex took a breath the whole world came flooding back, showing Ahsoka had run to the cliff edge. 

“Ready?” she shouted.

Maybe it was nerves, but Rex couldn’t help the small laugh. “To be thrown? Never." He ignited the lightsabers. They hummed in unison in his hands as if they were singing a song he had heard before, from a brother he loved like a son. And Rex spared a small thought that perhaps Fives was still with him, fighting as hard as ever. “But to be free? More then.” 

‘tomboy’ literally was just parent code for ‘awwww this child is gay, now lets never address it and hope it goes away before it stops being cute’ like if you were a tomboy child im sorry

57. Petunia Evans never really hated her sister, she was devastated when the news came of her death. She remembers crying over little Harry, clutching him tight to her chest as she read the letter Dumbledore left for her. It was only when Vernon came down that she pretended she hated Harry, the truth was that she loved him so much, she would leave food for him in the cupboard and taught him how to cook safely while Vernon was away. Harry actually grew up loved, Petunia loved him and Harry knew that he had to keep it a secret, out of fear of what Vernon would do to his favourite Aunt Petunia.

This!

So I’m on AO3 and I see a lot of people who put “I do not own [insert fandom here]” before their story.

Like, I came on this site to read FAN fiction. This is a FAN fiction site. I’m fully aware that you don’t own the fandom or the characters. That’s why it’s called FAN FICTION.

I didn’t mean to screenshot her right at this moment, but she’s so darn cute here. Caption: Lana Beniko: I knew you were alive. I felt it.

The story of a generation. Comes to an end.

Or Church of Christ too

god avatrice really just hits different when you were raised catholic and had to repress all that longing for a girl’s love but now that you’ve accepted your queerness you’re obsessed with subverting catholic imagery and metaphors and using them to articulate your gay yearning 

Me, I’m the child.

“my child is fine”

ur child thinks wanda maximoff is a relatable character