XD

On regard of Mitsuru’s mental state

So, since I’ve seen some kind of discussion going on in regards of Ichihoshi possibly having mental illness, I decided to do some research and here’s my hot take on it:

He does, or at least, if the show wasn’t strictly for kids and didn’t magically cure illness without properly addressing them because of the sensitive target, then Ichihoshi would probably have a case of Depression+BPD

Why? Well here are some extracts that luckily will help you understand my point! If you’re triggered by mental illness talk I suggest for you to skip this post and blacklist the tag “mental illness” cause I will always put it in my posts about the matter and I don’t want for you to feel uncomfortable!

ON CHILDREN DEPRESSION

“Nadine M. Melhem, Ph.D., of the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, and colleagues identified 140 families in which one parent died of suicide, accident or sudden natural death. They were compared with 99 control families in which two parents were living and no first-degree relatives had died within the past two years. The offspring, ages 7 to 25, underwent interviews and assessments for psychiatric disorders. The results of the survey showed that children’s symptoms after the loss of a parent were depression, anxiety, PTSD, suicidal behavior and complicated grief (severe, lasting unhappiness).

The symptoms of depression in children vary. It is often undiagnosed and untreated because they are passed off as normal emotional and psychological changes that occur during growth.

Signs and symptoms of depression in children include:

Irritability or anger

Continuous feelings of sadness and hopelessness

Social withdrawal”

ON BPD

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). People with BPD are often exceptionally enthusiastic, idealistic, joyful, and loving.

However, they may feel overwhelmed by negative emotions (“anxiety, depression, guilt/shame, worry, anger, etc.”), experiencing intense grief instead of sadness,

shame and humiliation instead of mild embarrassment, rage instead of annoyance, and panic instead of nervousness.”

ON DEPRESSION+BPD

“the quality of depression seems to be different in BPD. For example, whereas depression is typically associated with feelings of sadness or guilt, depression in BPD has been described as being associated with feelings of anger,

deep shame (i.e., feeling emotionally like a bad or evil person),

loneliness, and emptiness. Further, depressed episodes in people with BPD are often triggered by interpersonal losses.”

Since Ichihoshi’s dad death and Hikaru’s hospitalisation occurred when he was very young, not older than 10 I believe, there are high chances of him developing both illness. Given that one of the environmental factors cause of BPD is being exposed to chronic fear or distress as a child and that the same goes for child depression, plus the fact that it’s possible for the two illness to coexist (as shown before) and that Mitsuru presents lots of the symptoms listed, I think it’s not too farfetched for us to believe so. Despite the fact that the show won’t address this matter, I believe that if we were to do realistic headcanons then we would not be in the wrong at all!

For the fairytale tropes: tricking a knowledge spirit. That just screams Jaster

“I will not help you find anything that is not already yours,” the spirit warns, and it’s a sharp thing, a threat.

Jaster doesn’t let himself be moved. “It is mine,” he says, and it’s more or less true—the Darksaber is his by right, by tradition, even if Tor is the one who holds it right now. Seeking out a Jedi, a being purely of the Force, is a risk, will test his ability to obfuscate, but to bring the Mandalorians together and end the civil war, it’s worth it.

The Zabrak stares at him for another long moment, then inclines his head. His body shimmers, and the unearthly blue bleeds away as he steps out of his Temple, approaches the edge of the stairs. Ghostly light becomes tan robes, dark skin, long black hair, and he steps out of the nexus of the Force where all Jedi live and into the real world.

“If it is yours, how was it taken from you?” he asks, and Jaster smiles.

“It’s an heirloom, and it was stolen long ago,” he says, precisely the truth. It simply wasn’t stolen from him. Tarre's descendants stole it from a Jedi Temple, long before the Jedi retreated fully into the Force.

The Jedi weighs his words for another moment, apparently finds truthfulness in them, and starts down the steps. Jaster falls in with him, trying not to stare, and asks, “You’ll help me retrieve it, then?”

“Your words are the truth,” the man says bluntly. “And in return, you have my word. I will remain until it is in your hands once more.”

Jaster doesn’t smirk, because that’s unbecoming, but he grins a little more widely than is likely seemly. “Thank you. I'm Jaster.”

“Agen,” the Jedi returns. “What was stolen from you, that you would go so far to retrieve it?”

“The Darksaber,” Jaster says, and now that he has Agen's word he doesn’t hesitate to admit it.

Agen stops dead, staring, and Jaster takes two more steps before he stops, turns, looks back. He raises a brow, still smiling, and says, “I never lied. Your word holds.”

There's a long, breathless moment, and then Agen snorts, amusement rising in his face. “You're correct,” he says. “My word is my bond, even now. You are clever with your words, Jaster Mereel.”

“And you are as quick as you are lovely,” Jaster returns, offering Agen his hand. Agen takes it, and Jaster wasn’t entirely sure what to expect of a Jedi, but his touch is warm, familiar, soft skin and calluses and a strong grip. He smiles, raising Agen's knuckles to his lips, and says, “Come, Agen. The Darksaber awaits.”

“Tarre will be most disappointed that he was not the one to answer your summons,” Agen says, and keeps walking down the stairs before Jaster can even begin to comprehend the implication that Tarre is still alive.

Headcanon that Luke and Obi Wan got the money to pay Han Solo by selling the moisture farm at bargain-basement prices in Anchorhead without telling anyone that it was totally torched, and by the time anyone find out they were well off planet. Luke now has a reputation as one of Tattooine’s most famous con men despite the fact that it was Obi Wan who ran the con.

Inspired by a plot point in Orphan Black, please consider:

Jango is a chimera (specifically of a pair of fraternal twins, one male and one female), and the Kaminoans just went with it to have a co-ed army because uhhhh why not, mostly.

Weird side-effect is that the clones don't actually look exactly like Jango. Like family, yes, but not Just Like Him.

I don't know where I'm going with this other than "Ahsoka's bisexual awakening" and "the first time a clone gets pregnant because the birth control failed, there are lawsuits from the non-clone parent." Custody stuff, I imagine.

If the non-clone parent wants their kid and has the money, but Kamino insists all products of their product belong to Kamino and/or the GAR, or try to pressure the clone to have an abortion because That's In The Contract or something...

If I wrote it up, it would probably involve a Senator as the other parent and trying to get the pregnant clone transferred to the Corrie Guard where it's "safe" except then the Corrie's keep bringing up their "we get killed by civilians regularly and it gets marked up as property damage, maybe have that addressed before your baby momma gets her ass beat" problem. IDK it would go somewhere dark.

Maybe better to focus on Ahsoka being painfully gay.

A friend asked if Boba would still be a "true" clone, and I don't think so. He'd be a clone of the XY cells, because the Kaminoan's can't actually safely replicate a chimera.

Jean: Is something burning?

Lisa, leaning seductively against the counter: Just my desire for you

Jean: The toaster is on fire

Hope the words come back to you. If it sparks any interest, QuinObi where Quinlan had to save Obi-Wan after being captured. Maybe the aftermath of that? Good luck!

“Quinlan,” Obi-Wan says, all polite surprise and social grace, like they're meeting in the halls of the Temple and not a desolate moon in the middle of Hutt space. “You found me.”

Quinlan rolls his eyes, dropping the guard whose handprint he used to get through the scanner. “Why do you sound so surprised?” he retorts. “You're the one who kept leaving bloody clothes everywhere, asshole.”

“There's no need for name-calling, Quin,” Obi-Wan reproves, like he didn’t know precisely how much of a heart attack it would give Quinlan to trip over the first bloody shirt rag and see visions of Obi-Wan being kriffing beaten. “And I was operating under the assumption that you would take the information I provided to the Council, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Quinlan echoes, a little grim, and ignites his lightsaber. Eyes the bars for half a second, then sweeps it down hard, right through the metal, and kicks the door open. “You thought I could watch them kick you around seventeen times and not come right for your sorry ass? It’s like you don’t even know me, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan looks politely disgruntled through the two black eyes he’s sporting, but he still hasn’t stood up. “Quinlan, finding the syndicate’s backer is more important—”

Quinlan gives him his best smirk. “Lucky for me that Anakin was around, then, huh? All I had to do was point him in the right direction, pretend I thought you were dying, and let him go. That commander of yours, too.”

It’s a little satisfying to watch Obi-Wan go pale around all the bruises. “Quinlan Vos, you used my padawan as a wrecking ball—”

“More of a laser-guided missile,” Quinlan says, unrepentant, and crouches down in front of Obi-Wan, reaching up. The ysalamiri around his neck doesn’t look like it’s doing all the much better than Obi-Wan; its fur is dull, eyes clouded, and when Quinlan picks it up he can feel its faltering heartbeat. The Force-bubble it projects keeps him from picking up any hint of its past through its skin, and he’s glad for that. Can't do anything but stroke it lightly as the last few heartbeats fade, trying to offer a little warmth in the cold of space, and then carefully, gently sets it aside, brushing his fingers over its fur one last time as the sense of the Force trickles back.

When he looks up, Obi-Wan is watching him with an odd softness on his battered face, red hair in his eyes and mouth twisted in something that’s almost a smile. He doesn’t say anything, though, and Quinlan doesn’t push. Doesn’t really want to know what Obi-Wan is thinking right now, honestly, because it’s never what he wants but it always manages to be too clear all the same.

“You're an idiot,” he says instead, and brings his lightsaber up, then around, and slices through the chain holding Obi-Wan’s hands above his head. He shuts it off as Obi-Wan hisses, and leans forward, catching his elbows before he can pull his arms all the way down. “Easy. You know what muscle strain is.”

“Yes, well, forgive me for not wanting to be chained to the wall any longer,” Obi-Wan says, vaguely annoyed, but his breath catches painfully as Quinlan digs his fingers into sore muscles. He can't do much in the way of healing, but Aayla pulled enough muscles when she was a kid that he knows this. A little heat, a little easing of muscles that have locked up, and Obi-Wan groans a moment later, slumping back against the wall as his eyes slide shut.

“You have magic hands, Quinlan,” he says, and sighs in relief. “Please, never stop.”

“Normally I'm the one saying that,” Quinlan teases, and snickers when Obi-Wan’s boot thumps against the outside of his thigh in silent reproach. Carefully, he eases Obi-Wan’s hands down into his lap, then tips his chin to the side, checking the lump on the side of his head. “Let me guess, you mouthed off and got your skull bounced off something solid?”

“I never mouth off,” Obi-Wan lies with perfect dignity. “I offered an opinion they were inclined to disagree with, and they retaliated with excessive force.”

“You sassed them and got your ass kicked for it,” Quinlan translates. He remembers their missions as padawans, even if Obi-Wan tries to pretend he doesn’t. “Aren’t you supposed to be the diplomatic one?”

“I'm certainly more diplomatic than you,” Obi-Wan shoots back, and opens his eyes. For a moment, he just stares at Quinlan, gaze steady, thoughtful. Then, slowly, he lifts his hands with a faint wince to cup Quinlan's face.

“I'm astonished that you found me, Quin,” he confesses quietly.

Quinlan turns his head, can't physically resist the urge to lay a kiss against Obi-Wan’s palm. “Like anything was going to stop me once I realized,” he counters.

Obi-Wan snorts. His thumbs smooth along Quinlan’s qukuuf, heavy against the golden tattoos, and—

Obi-Wan’s not the type of person who will ever ask for something for himself. Quinlan's known that since they were kids. It’s always a little annoying, especially combined with Obi-Wan’s inability to realize that he deserves nice things, but usually Quinlan can roll his eyes and deal with it and not push. Pushing Obi-Wan is like trying to push a mountain, after all.

Right now, though, Quinlan's tired. He’s coming off a solid week of limited sleep, having to see images of Obi-Wan getting his face pounded in over and over again as he tried to track the syndicate members. The sight of Obi-Wan in the cell was both gutting and the greatest relief he’s felt since finding Aayla in her uncle’s possession, and he physically can't stop himself from reaching out right now. He grabs Obi-Wan, wraps his arms around him and hauls him in to a tight hug, burying his face in coppery hair with a huff.

“Kriff, Obi-Wan,” he mutters. “If you could not make me think you're dead for at least a month, I’d appreciate it.”

There's a pause, startled, and then a heavy breath against his cheek. Obi-Wan’s hand comes up, fisting tight in his dreadlocks, and he wraps his other arm around Quinlan's back, clutching at him in a way he hasn’t since he got back from Naboo with a new padawan, a new Knighthood, and a new grief in his eyes.

“Careful, Quin,” he says, for once a little less than perfectly composed. “Someone might come to the conclusion that you're not the wild, emotionally unavailable free love enthusiast you pretend to be.”

“Did you just call me a slut in flowery language?” Quinlan asks, grinning. “I think I'm obligated to dump you in a sand pit for that.”

“If that’s what you choose to take away from my words, I suppose I can't stop you,” Obi-Wan says airily, but he still hasn’t let go.

Quinlan turns his head, presses a light kiss to Obi-Wan’s collarbone. Gets a flicker of the past, quick and gutting, of Obi-Wan sitting beside him in a dingy bar, Quinlan practically draped over his lap, Obi-Wan’s fingers in his hair. Not one of Quinlan's memories, even if it’s the moment he looked up at Obi-Wan’s face and realized instantly, achingly, that he was in love, but—

Obi-Wan’s memory of the same moment, and an overwhelming sort of fondness, sweet and warm in his chest as he played with the beads in Quinlan's locs.

“Idiot,” he manages, even though it’s hard to get the word out. “I thought—”

Obi-Wan snorts, pulling back, and he touches the qukuuf again, then slides his hands up, fists them in Quinlan's hair. “Apparently I'm not the only idiot here,” he drawls, raising a judgmental eyebrow at Quinlan.

There's no response Quinlan can possibly give except kissing that stupid smirk right off his face. 

Clone mom Shaak Ti requested by @lindsaygallof

Knight Dooku and his ten-year-old Padawan Rael Averross travel to Oleracia, a planet in the Outer Rim, to bring home a Force-sensitive child.

Read the fic here!

I realize I’ve been a fool in not turning more Supernatural quotes into incorrect TCW quotes. A fool, I tell you.

Echo: Fives. You’re my brother, and I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks.

——

Dooku: But I forget, you two are, at best, functional morons.

Anakin: Hey, you’re functioning... morons... moron...

Obi-Wan: -_-

——

Rex, after getting his chip out: What’s happening?

Ahsoka: Oh nothing. Just the end of the world!

——

Fives: Plan C tanked.

Echo: Maybe you should try Plan D for Dumbass

Fives: D:<

——

Boil: ‘Kids are the best’? You don’t even like kids!

Waxer: I love kids!

Boil: Oh yeah? Name three children that you even know.

Waxer: ...

Boil:

Waxer: I’m thinking!

——

Hardcase: I can’t do this, man, I can’t live on rabbit food! I’m a warrior!

Dogma: Hardcase. You’ll be fine.

Hardcase: You don’t know that!

How do we feel about time-travel fics where teenage Ahsoka crashes the Kenobi-Jinn Mandalore mission and, while Obi-Wan is having weird courtly love pining nonsense with Satine, Ahsoka herself has managed to hook up with Bo-Katan.

It was supposed to be an undercover thing where Ahsoka hunted out Death Watch! It’s not like they did more than make-out in a corner between training sessions. Mostly they got into really aggressive sparring flirtation and then had to be pulled apart by Pre!

Just. You know. Once Ahsoka leaves Mandalore and goes back to the Jedi she keeps getting weird, love-lorn letters and violent gifts, because apparently, saying she hates slavery and had a bad experience with the Queen of Zygerria in particular means getting a head in a box in the mail, because when Bo likes someone, she flirts via regicide.

19yo Pre is 17yo Bo’s unwilling accomplice in seducing a Jedi.

Ahsoka’s busy getting teased by Quinlan Vos and Garen Muln. This only gets put on hold when the gifts go from “cool knife” to “literal head of a head of state,” and the Temple has to deal with that. It’s not a fun time.

Obi-Wan would join in on the teasing, except, well, Satine.

Qui-Gon is a little disappointed in both of them but he accepts that, in an absurd way, Ahsoka’s admirer is assassinating her way to a better galaxy, so maybe the Force did will this.