#and obi-wan just shrugs and says it will all sort itself out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

renlyslittlerose · 3 months

Note

Can I request "almost kisses that are interrupted by a third party"? 💙

Sorry for the delay, peach! Thanks so much for the prompt 💗

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The mess deck was quiet on the Negotiator, save for the hum of droid engines and gears, and the soft whispers of an intimate conversation. Droids whirled around collecting abandoned plates and cups, strewn napkins and bits of dropped food, cleaning up the detritus left over from a rousing victory party held in honour of another mission well done, and another journey survived. Most of the ship’s occupants were gone, tucked away in their cots or returned to their postings as they slowly made their way back to Coruscant.

Most, but not all.

Anakin and Obi-Wan remained sat on the floor in the corner, their backs pressed against the metal hull as they shared the last of the drink and picked away at a slice of cake made out of the biscuits found in ration packets. The icing was gritty and the cake itself dry, while the beer was weak and had lost all its fizz, little bubbles long since evaporated into the recycles air up above. But both hit the spot in a way that not even the most expensive of parties on Coruscant could, with towers of glasses filled with perfumed alcohol, and decadent desserts coated in sugars and exotic fruit.

Anakin’s cheeks hurt from laughing and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his brow and the base of his neck slick with sweat, curls matted across his temples. The muscles of his legs and ass ached from the hard floor beneath him, and the cake was beginning to disagree with his meal from earlier, rations mixed with nutritional pellets, neither of which filled the void a proper meal could.

But he didn’t dare move, too comfortable and sated in other ways. Obi-Wan’s voice and the little pearls of laughter that slipped into his stories warmed Anakin’s belly; the twinkle in his eyes mesmerizing; the blush to his cheeks both from the warmth of the space and the effects of the drink its own sort of intoxication, and the lock of auburn hair across his brow captivated Anakin’s wandering attention, until he could think of nothing but Obi-Wan.

It was rare to see him this relaxed; rarer still where Anakin had time to enjoy it.

And so he remained on the floor, dissecting the last of the cake with an idle fork as Obi-Wan told him about a party he’d attended over a decade ago as a Padawan. He finished the story with a satisfied sigh, his hands linked together on his lap, legs kicked out in front of him as he stared out across the mess. The droids continued their mission dutifully, little beeps and chirps accompanying their actions.

Anakin admired the bob of Obi-Wan’s throat as he swallowed.

“What about you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan lolled his head to the side to look at him. His lids were heavy, eyes bleary with drink and exhaustion, his smile soft and patient.

“What about me?” he repeated.

“Any exciting parties from your past that I don’t know about?”

Anakin’s cheeks heated, and he ducked his head to look down at the crumbs on the plate. “Not that I was invited to,” he admitted.

Obi-Wan didn’t press into the bruise, for which Anakin was grateful. Obi-Wan knew Anakin struggled to make connections; nothing more needed to be said about it.

“How does this one stack compared to your other parties?” he asked, trying to deflect the questions back to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan straightened up a little and reached up to stroke his beard. He collected a dusting of icing he’d been unaware was there, his brows furrowing as he flicked it off his thumb and forefinger with a glare. Anakin smiled and rested his head against the wall.

“I’d say it was one of the better ones I’ve attended,” Obi-Wan finally said with a nod that gave it a sense of finality.

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I dunno, it’s just… the cake was awful, the booze were weak and there wasn’t nearly enough, and the Clones love to sing even when none of them can carry a tune.”

“So?”

Anakin shrugged. “You’ve been to all sorts of grand, luxurious events over the years - I thought those would be top of list. Besides, you’re also—”

“I’m also what?” Obi-Wan interrupted. His tone was clipped, but there was a spark in his eyes that spoke of amusement, and their bond remained steady.

“You’re also a bit of a snob.”

Obi-Wan’s laughter caught Anakin off-guard. It was lush and filling, like the rush of water on a hot Tatooine day. It skirted through Anakin’s body before settling in his stomach, making him unsteady and full.

“I’m not a snob,” Obi-Wan began as he picked imaginary lint from his tabards. “I simply enjoy quality things.”

“So a snob, then.”

Obi-Wan glared, but his expression softened almost immediately the second their eyes locked. Something shot through their bond then - a little spark of electricity that made Anakin’s toes curls in his boots, and his hands ball into fists as they lay uselessly on his lap. He knew that sensation - it always came just before a fight Obi-Wan knew he was going to win, quick and satisfied and so terribly smug.

Only there was excitement just below the current this time, making Anakin unsteady and nervous. He squeezed his hands harder together, the nails on his flesh hand digging into his palm, but the sharp stinging sensation did little to distract from the fact that Obi-Wan had leaned in closer. He was close enough where Anakin could smell the alcohol and sweetness on his breath, feel it across his cheeks and lips; close enough where if Anakin wanted to he could count every lash and freckle, every worn line and streak of grey, and close enough where he could touch Obi-Wan - slide his hand along his jaw, feel the bristle of his beard along his palm and the tips of his fingers, the heat of his skin, the softness of the space just behind his ear.

Close enough where he could take what he’d always wanted but had never been brave enough to ask for.

“W-what makes this party special then?” Anakin asked, his voice unsteady even to his own ears.

Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly, his eyes skirting down to Anakin’s lips before coming back up. Anakin caught movement at the corner of his eye but paid it no mind, transfixed by the presence of Obi-Wan.

“I thought it was obvious…” Obi-Wan mumbled. His voice was lower now, and rich like the honey on top of Coruscant dessert cakes. “It’s because you’re here, Anakin.”

Anakin let out a soft sigh and watched as Obi-Wan’s brows furrowed, his lips parting, his hand rising to cup Anakin’s cheek as he pulled him in closer and—

The loud beeping of a droid broke the spell, and Anakin watched in horror as Obi-Wan jumped away from him as if scalded. The droid remained oblivious to what it had done, the lights on the top of its head blinking as its small arms reached out for the abandoned plate and glasses tucked between them. Obi-Wan passed the dishes to the droid while Anakin sat back and glowered at the floor.

it was as if someone had just opened the airlock on him, sucking back all the warmth and oxygen before unceremoniously closing the doors again, just as Anakin was about to fly out into the vastness of space.

“Come, Anakin, it’s late.”

Anakin looked up to see Obi-Wan had risen from their space in the floor. He held his hand out to Anakin, a small smile on his lips, cheeks still flush - the only reminder that anything had almost happened. With a sigh, Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and hauled himself up, grunting as his legs protested the sudden movement. Their hands remained locked for a moment longer - warm leather with soft flesh - but the spell had been broken, the moment undone.

“Goodnight, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said as they left the mess and stopped in the hallway.

“Goodnight, Master.”

Obi-Wan’s smile faltered a second before he nodded and headed down the hallway. The familiar tension was back, the stoicism of his Jedi Mantle once again donned, his role as Master firmly in place.

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek and turned the other way.

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction #yourfavoritefridge

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merrysithmas · 2 years

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Do you have any baby Anakin headcanons? If so would you share them with us?

so this is little ani on tatooine not little ani at the Temple causing brotherly havoc with Obi-wan or having trouble adapting there (to the Jedi or Coruscant itself).

i have a headcanon that little ani:

-learns lullabies from his mother that he remembers his entire life, even as Vader they come to him and he has destroyed many a structure to drown out the sounds and make the music stop. (it never does).

-he is better at math (from Watto's payment logs) and mostly can't read or write. something which causes him more shame and ostracization at the Temple.

-he is ace at picking up spoken languages and can speak almost 5 easily by age nine

-he often helps people without knowing it, like sometimes people will pray for water or pray for luck and he'll come in unknowingly with something they need or good news that the water tax has been reduced this week. people start to see him as special in a sort of indescribe kind of way - people just sort of love him. they are happy when ani comes around and sneak him sweets or guard him from harm.

-that he actually has killed before the Tusken incident and his mother either hid it or told him he was right and he should never feel guilty about it, but to not do it again (hence compounding his immense guilt over the Tuskens). as a child he would have done it with the Force mostly unintentionally, but with love at the heart of it - such as protecting other slaves

-that he had known Tusken Raiders his whole life and feared them and that they frequently were derided in public for reasons that were illegitimate. like for instance his owners, the Hutts, despised them (for "stealing" profits by disruptibg shipments over the desert), so in a warped way Anakin came to identify with the Hutts (his captors) and fear the Tuskens even though it should have been the other way around. but without the Hutts he and his mother would no shelter... would be lost to the sands & death

-basically lots more Tusken ghost stories. he seems to fear them for some big reason... one he doesn't entirelt understand...

-that he has been having strange dreams of a man with long hair who stands toweringly tall, or an old man who lives out in the desert all alone (it makes his little heart hurt), or a small boy, like he is - who wants to be a pilot. how he wants to find this boy and play with him! that these dreams are his prophecies of past and future, and he mingles with them like invisible friends. he often tells his mother about his "invisible friends" and she amusedly listens

-that he sometimes shocks people with blunt and arresting answers to things - like he will catch Shmi crying while working because a slave she was friends with was killed, and she will say how she misses her because "No one can tell what happens after people die, Ani." and he'll simply shrug and say "I can," before scooting off to do little kid things- leaving Shmi stunned at his words which are eerie... while she thinks about the manner of his immaculate conception.

-that his mother talks to him all about her village before she was kidnapped into slavery and tells him about her mother

-that the slaves owned by Gardulla the Hutt have their own family culture and support system and Anakin is devastated to leave them when Gardulla loses he and his mother to Watto in a bet

-Shmi often takes him out to look at the stars in the streets of Mos Eilsey- they climb the roof of Watto's when they can. they aren't allowed to travel much farther because of the slave chips in their heads, and into the badlands is far too dangerous. she tells him stories about the stars that she mostly makes up to quell her own sorrow as much as provide happiness for him

-that Ani is always fixing little things he sees like broken communicators or busted up siding and fellow impoverished neighbors often sneak small appliances to him for repair and then dotingly bring him scrap in return so he can build his droids

-that ani builds droids to express his inner feelings. this feeling like he doesn't know where he came from for some reason. that he can create a living thing out of nowhere! and just.. let then go free. make them into happy, beloved things. and let them go.

-he loves his droids and the stars. shmi feels her heart ache because of it

#anakin skywalker #shmi skywalker #watto #ask #anon #sw asks #qui gon jinn #luke skywalker #obi wan kenobi

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tennessoui · 3 years

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18 obikin!! Amnesia fics are super fun 🍆

18. One of them wakes up with amnesia (Option A because two people sent in this prompt number and I liked both ideas I saw for it enough to not want to pick) this involves an Obi-Wan that got deaged as well as lost his memories so he's Phantom Menace Obi-Wan. no i will not be explaining. hand wavey drabble fic writing.

The man has not stopped staring, but something in his intense gaze makes Obi-Wan feel safe. Almost. Well. On edge, yes, but. Protected. He has the strange feeling that he’d rather be under this man’s stare than anywhere else in the entire galaxy.

But he knows he’s never seen this man before in his life, the same way that he knows he’s twenty-five and that Qui-Gon Jinn is his Master, that he’s a Jedi knight-in-training, that he hates teas with mint leaves in them, that he’ll never say no to a drink with Quinlan, that--well.

He supposes none of that stuff could be true anymore. Vokra Che, who’s a grown and certified healer master now, had told him what had happened. An older version of himself had touched something he wasn’t supposed to. The closest translation they could find to the runes on the object was that it would transform the user back to their most balanced state. Obi-Wan’s had, apparently, been at the age of twenty-five. He hadn’t recognized the name Anakin Skywalker. He had never been to Naboo.

He throws the rest of his drink back and waves to the bartender to pour him another. He’d gone straight here from the Halls of Healing. He’d had a shadow the entire way, but the man has yet to try to talk to him at all. It’s infuriating.

His Padawan braid swings into his field of vision for a second. He tosses it over his shoulder. He’d been told. Qui-Gon had died. Obi-Wan wants to not think about it at all.

There’s a brush of a Force presence that’s both familiar and completely foreign next to him. The man has finally moved to his side. Obi-Wan’s jaw ticks at his continued reticence, the way he’s observing him but not talking to him. It just simply won’t do, but Obi-Wan isn’t feeling his kindest. He doesn’t want whatever this man is offering him with his silent, dour stares and his suffocating Force signature that keeps trying to tangle itself with Obi-Wan’s own. It’s rude is what it is.

He waves down the bartender and orders a drink for the man. “If you got mint, put it in,” he tells the woman who raises an eyebrow but shrugs, one pair of her arms busy with the drink. When she gives it to him he slides it to the man next to him without even looking at him.

“What--” the man asks. “I don’t--”

“You do tonight,” Obi-Wan says bracingly, throwing back half of his own drink. “We’ve both just lost our Masters, haven’t we?”

The man beside him flinches as if Obi-Wan had skewered him with his lightsaber.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan lolls his head to the side to look at the man threw half-closed eyes. “My padawan.”

“Anakin,” the man says so quietly it’s almost lost to the noise of the bar. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, yeah.”

Obi-Wan takes a drink reflexively, humming in disbelief. “You don’t look like it,” he says consideringly. At Anakin’s confused look, he elaborates. “You don’t look like you could have ever been a Padawan.”

The man pulls himself up, face darkening at the perceived slight. It’s almost too easy to rile him up, but now that he has, Obi-Wan finds he has no interest in fighting this man. Quite the opposite, really. That’s...something. He can’t tell if that emotion comes from him now or the older version of him.

Either way, Obi-Wan has no desire to stand in the way of whatever storm this Anakin is building up in his head, so he turns to face him completely and pushes both hands into his blond hair, raking down the scalp gently before collecting the strands into a poor imitation of the Padawan ponytail. “That’s better, I suppose. The hair threw me off.” He lets go slowly, making sure to tug at one of the strands at the last second.

Anakin has a very strange look on his face, but he’s definitely not angry anymore. He’s even shielding much more tightly now. Obi-Wan smirks into his glass as he takes a sip. He definitely remembers that trick.

“Do you know who cut it?” he asks, catching sight of the end of his braid again. The drinks are going to his head much more quickly than he had intended. Must be all the trauma his body has gone through in the past few days. “My braid.”

“I.” Anakin stutters, caught off guard. “You did.”

Obi-Wan feels like laughing but also a bit like crying. There’s a terrifying emotion rearing its head in his chest. It threatens to swallow him whole. “Well, I suppose I never liked to stand on ceremony.”

“You cut your braid in the fresher and then called me in and braided mine,” Anakin says distantly, as if caught up in the memory. “You wouldn’t let me hold it. I thought you were so mean. But I understood at my Knighting Ceremony. It was a part of me in my hand, a...starmap of all the places I’d been and the things I’d learned during my training. And there was only one person I wanted to give it to in the whole galaxy.”

“Did you?” He asks, taking a sip to hide how important the question is, how devastating the answer could be.

“Well. Yeah. But I guess I don’t know if you kept it,” Anakin cuts his eyes away from Obi-Wan’s and runs his fingers up the long stem of his drink.

Obi-Wan chokes on a laugh. “He definitely did.”

The other man’s face settles into a frown. “You don’t know that. You’re not him.”

“I’m enough of him. I’ve got--some feelings. In my head. Impressions.”

“Of me?”

“Of how he felt about you.”

Anakin’s eyes widen and then narrow with a sudden intensity that makes Obi-Wan want to shiver. It’s like being in the eye of a storm. His hold on the delicate glass in his hand becomes dangerously tight as he leans forward into Obi-Wan’s space, as if he can’t get close enough to him.

“What do you feel when you look at me?” he asks almost breathlessly. Obi-Wan blinks, trying to figure out if he’s being seduced or not. It’s sort of working. It’s all that focus, directly on him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if that’s how the night ended. But sleeping with his former padawan who he can’t remember right now doesn’t seem like the best decision he could make.

But Anakin had liked it when Obi-Wan tugged at his hair. He’d arched closer to him. And now, the distance between them has been eaten away until they’re almost pressed chest to shoulder.

“Safe,” he decides to say, even though the word feels too small. “Sad,” which is mostly true but also an oversimplification. It’s a sort of nostalgia mixed with sadness, mixed with acceptance and resignation. “Warm,” because even after being denied entry to Obi-Wan’s mind, Anakin’s force presence has curled around Obi-Wan’s like some sort of krayt dragon, content to wait and guard and treasure. He leans forward, just until his mouth brushes against the skin of Anakin’s ear. “Coveted.”

Anakin definitely shifts at that, and when Obi-Wan pulls back enough to see his face, his pupils are blown wide.

Swallowing a grin, Obi-Wan swallows the rest of his drink in one go. “Drink up,” he tells Anakin in his most demanding tone, reaching into his pockets to pull out his older self’s credits to settle the tab. “I want to go.”

Anakin obeys immediately, making a face at the taste.

They’re out in the street within a few minutes, Anakin smacking his lips as if still trying to rid himself of the flavor. “I just don’t know why you had to order me that,” he complains, falling into step on Obi-Wan’s right.

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the very unsanitary wall of the building, spreading his legs wide enough so that Anakin can come in between them. The man doesn’t seem to notice anything different, just steps a bit closer as a crowd of loud party-goers makes their way past them.

“I wanted to see if I liked mint,” Obi-Wan shrugs, raising his hand to rest on the skin of Anakin’s neck. He can feel the way his pulse is beating incredibly fast.

“Why would my drink help you with--”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. He commends his older self for being able to teach this idiot anything, even though he seems to have skipped over important lessons like Recognizing When You’re Being Flirted With.

Before Anakin can finish the thought, Obi-Wan twists his other hand in Anakin’s robes and pulls him forward until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “May I kiss you?” he asks because it’s only polite to.

Anakin’s eyes widen and then fall shut as he gives a little nod, finally stepping forward until their bodies are pressed completely together.

At least someone, although he doubts it was the older Obi-Wan, taught Anakin how to kiss. Obi-Wan’s toes curl in his boots as Anakin takes control of the action, moving his hands so one’s pressing against the wall behind them and one’s running up his scalp. Obi-Wan takes his time licking into Anakin’s mouth, allowing Anakin to explore him in return. One of them moans, which seems like as good a time as any to break the kiss.

“Well?” Anakin pants, diving in to place a short kiss onto Obi-Wan’s lips. “What do you think?”

The short answer is that Obi-Wan isn’t. He noses back towards Anakin’s mouth hopefully, sliding his hand down from his neck to rest on his hip.

“About mint,” Anakin elaborates when Obi-Wan doesn’t respond immediately.

“Inconclusive. Need more data,” Obi-Wan tries to kiss him but Anakin’s smiling too hard.

“Then next time you can get the awful drink, and you can get me the Alderaan Sunset,” Anakin is complaining, but he’s laughing too and that’s nice. Obi-Wan thinks that making Anakin Skywalker laugh is one of the best feelings in the galaxy, and he thinks his older self would agree, if the warmth sparking up in his very soul means anything at all.

#asks #my fics #writing #tarantasina #i'm sure eventually they get obi-wan back to normal and he's just sooooo embarrassed that he got drunk and decided to seduce anakin #but like it worked out #anakin makes fun of him too until obi-wan remembers that he kissed back #prompt fill

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XXII - - - - Part XXIII - - - - Part XXIV

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

The nature of the Jedi Temple was such that years could pass unnoticed within the ethereal, eternal walls—and then a number of factors would converge simultaneously, and wreck all that.

In this case, dawn, rumors, and Quinlan Vos were all meeting in an abrupt and tremulous clash.

Rumors and daylight, of course, were well known for their power to occupy multiple spaces at the same time. Quinlan Vos’s apparent ability to do so (for nothing else could explain his gentle but thorough interrogation of padawans in the sallies, his generous provisions of drinks for over-wrought nocturnal jedi, and his unauthorized access to closed off personal quarters, all in an impossibly short period time) was far more inexplicable, and therefore technically admirable.

Master Gallia did not feel admiring at the moment. She felt tired.

“Where. Is. Obi-Wan?” Quinlan repeated.

Adi Gallia danced around him, continuing on her stroll of the temple grounds. She released a flash of irritation into the force—of course Masters Koon, Windu, and Yoda all were shipped off for their own (admittedly grim) assignments, leaving her responsible for ‘local’ issues. She had accepted the possibility of intense political fallout, of course. She was prepared to soothe the worries of those still in-temple, who were just starting to pick-up on the certainly-not-an-evacuation. She had been less ready to deal with an incensed psychometric interfering in matters beyond his understanding.

“Classified,” she repeated, as neutrally as ever.

“Do you really want to have the rest of this conversation in front of the whole Order?” he hissed. “I went to his quarters, I felt—” Vos shuddered.

Gallia sighed, tension headache growing. “Come with me.”

She glided serenely to her personal office space, Vos trailing her like the irritable shadow he was.

The door clicked.

“I know he tried to kill himself,” he said bluntly. The Councillor winced slightly; even knowing the context didn’t change the very real and tragic brush with death. “I saw Skywalker see it.”

Master Gallia didn’t reply—there was no point in denying, and every point in gaining information.

“Do you know what Obi-Wan felt?” he asked manically.

The Tholothian Master took an involuntary step back. Part of her thought it would be more expedient to simply bring the man into the fold, but another part hesitated at trusting the already thinly stretched secret to a man who was, by Master Kenobi’s own admittance, far closer to falling than anyone realized. It was scarcely his fault—shadow work was dangerous, even when the galaxy wasn’t in the grips of a Sith-engineered galactic war, but still—

“Nothing!” he cried, slaming his palms on her desk in an alarming loss of control. “A brief feeling of panic when his hand was on the vibroblade and then fucking serenity as he tried to stab himself in the heart!”

“Master Vos—” she tried to say placatingly, but he was having none of it.

“Please,” he begged. “I know I can get through to him, just tell me where he is.”

“Quinlan Vos—you’re just going to have to trust the High Council to have Master Kenobi’s best interests in mind.”

He stared at her for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “You lost him, didn’t you?”

“Quinlan—”

The Kiffar barked out a laugh, pointing a finger in outraged accusation. “He woke up, half the galaxy felt that—and then he ran off, and now he’s somewhere, hurt, and the Council can’t spare the resources or the pride to help him!”

She hesitated—that was the cover story, one that would conceivably spread; but it felt deeply cruel to leave the Kiffar floundering in it. If only he was slightly less angry...

Vos took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said shortly. “The Council wants to keep his status under wraps—that’s fine; he wouldn’t want everyone knowing he’s vulnerable, anyway. Just give me what you have, and I’ll track him.”

Adi Gallia drummed her fingers on her rattled desk for a moment, before letting go of a half-truth. “We suspect he’s going after Count Dooku,” she said finally, suppressing any guilt she felt for the half-lie, or for causing Quinlan’s expression to twist tighter, when she could so easily relieve him of his burden.

“And?” he pressed.

Adi looked away. “Knight Skywalker’s with him, in some capacity,” she grit out.

Quinlan snorted. “Obviously.” Gallia’s lips tightened.

“Is that it?” he asked exasperated. “You’re not going to even give me his file?”

“You don’t have it already?” she asked drly.

“I’ve got the bathashit official one you gave to the Chancellor,” he admitted, immediately and unrepentantly. “Where you all but threw him under a moving speeder,” he added hostily.

Master Gallia winced. “Master Vos,” she tried again. “The Council has a plan. I regret that I cannot tell you it, but I beg of you—have faith in us for a little longer—don’t go after him.”

Quinlan’s expression tightened. “Is the plan for the good of Obi-Wan, or the good of the Council? Because sure, I know which Obi-Wan would prefer, and so do you—and I. Don’t. Agree.”

Gallia rubbed her temples, skull throbbing with tension. “And that’s why I can’t trust you with anything else,” she admitted, completely honest.

Quinlan nodded sharply. “May the force be with you, Master Gallia.”

“And with you, Quinlan Vos,” she replied sadly.

Quinlan stalked out, and Gallia took a brief moment to pity the both of them before returning to work.

- - -

Ventress skulked in the corner of a dingy bar, cursing Kenobi once again. A few hours on this miserable planet and all she had were rumors to go on. Obviously something had happened to the golden boy, but the underworld seemed even more puzzled than the kriffing Jedi. It was only a matter of time before the public caught wind, and then the gossip would become hopelessly entangled with the actually important whispers.

Sneaking into the Temple itself would be a worthy test of her skills—but if she was captured...well needless to say there would be no aid from Dooku. Had she not felt the Negotiator’s presence during the flight she might have believed this were some irritating test of her Master’s but this...

The Dathomori grimaced into her drink. If nothing else, Kenobi was a fearsome adversary—anything that could have riled him—possibly defeated him once in for all...Ventress hated to admit but she might be out of her depth.

“Is this seat taken?”

She looked up in irritation at a human male with a cocky grin, a gold face tattoo, and skin as dark as hers was pale. The idiot was already pulling out the seat, apparently utterly oblivious of her open contempt— not to mention the chill of the dark side she was deliberately projecting around her.

“Yes,” she snapped. “Now leave, before I remove you. Violently.”

He grinned wider, leaning in. “Oh don’t be like that. Now, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing in a place like this?”

The fool then had the audacity to reach over, lightly brushing her hand. She grabbed the wrist, pinning it to the table. “Do. Not. Touch Me. You vile worm.”

“Aah! Okay, okay!” he babbled in panic. “Sorry, my mistake, thought you seemed hot and a little lonely, that’s all, miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take, you know? Wasn’t trying to cop a feel or anything I swear! I’ll go now, promise.”

She felt an odd tingling sensation run through her, starting at the single point of contact between them. She frowned, unable to classify it. He smiled charmingly. and she released him as if burnt.

“You’re a Jedi,” she hissed, hand dropping to the sabers beneath the table. The tingling sensation faded. “What was that?”

The open panic disappeared, wholly replaced by the earlier smirk. “And you’re a Sith.” He flexed his hand before tucking it into a pocket. “Nothing to worry about. Just needed your help with an investigation.” He stood, bowing mockingly. “Thank you for your time.” And then he was gone, fading into the shadows.

She leapt to her feet, running outside and snagging him from his hiding spot behind a crate.

“What sort of Jedi shadow walks?” she asked, pressing him to the wall at bladepoint, careful not to allow any other point of contact between them. He looked at her as though she were an idiot, and her cheeks heated slightly.

“You do realize I have to kill you now, right?” she snarled. “Can’t exactly have a Jedi Shadow telling people where I am”

“You’re not my mission, darling,” he replied, flashing teeth. “Far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”

She narrowed her eyes, digging the tip of her knife into his throat. The Shadow looked deeply unconcerned. “But you thought I might be?” she questioned slyly.

He shrugged. “Sith Apprentice, half a galaxy away from the front off the war? Figured you might be up to trouble, yeah. Fortunately for both of us—as I’m sure an actual fight would be a massive and mutual inconvenience—whatever trouble you’re here for has nothing to do with me. I’ve got bigger fish to fry, you’ve got bigger fish to fry. I’d offer to buy you a drink but I’m fairly certain you’d throw it in my face so...”

He delicately pressed a finger to the knife at his edge. Bemused, she allowed him to push it away.

“And you got all that from touching my hand,” she asked incredulously, curious of his power despite herself.

He waggled his digits playfully. “Magic fingers.”

She scoffed. “Even if you were a psychometric—” She cut herself off, eyes flickering to the face tattoo.

“Kiffar,” she breathed. “Of course. My gloves—but it was just a moment, what—ah.” She smirked. “Kenobi. You just wanted to know if I had been around him.”

“And now I know you haven’t.” He shrugged. “Anyway, have fun on Coruscant; good luck not getting arrested.”

He started to amble away at a deceptively casual stroll. She fell into lock step.

“You’ve lost him,” she accused.

He shrugged. “Sure, why not,” he agreed mildly. She narrowed her eyes.

“Some of the Jedi fear their golden boy might have fallen,” she guessed with absolute confidence, but neither his face nor his force presence gave anything away—and she was following him to a secondary location like a fool.

Ventress lunged but the Jedi was dancing backwards, slipping into a nearby shadow. He fell into it sideways—completely, but crudely. She wheeled around, scanning the perpetually dim alleyway. One shadow grew darker—she threw a dagger and a patch of dark detached, hissing and bleeding a satisfying scarlet.

“Is there a point to attacking me,” he asked impatiently, saber finally appearing in his hand, though it stayed unlit. “I already told you that I don’t care what you’re doing here. What possible advantage could you gain in picking a fight with me? Even if you win, don’t you think the Jedi would notice if a shadow went missing on Coruscant?”

“You really have no problem letting a Sith run around your precious Core world?” she asked skeptically, throwing another dagger. He dodged it, and it lodged itself in the brickwork. A random passerby immediately stole it—kriff she hated this world— but Asajj couldn’t chace after the parasite now, because the Jedi was throwing a—rock?

The window behind her shattered as she dodged the wild shot, and an incoherent roar spilled out, along with foul smelling water, and eye stalk, and the first few of what looked many tentacles.

“Oh you play dirty,” she breathed, reluctantly impressed. He hit her with a two fingered salute, disappearing again, this time by swaggering slowly around a corner. And then she had to focus on fighting a pissed off Dianoga whose tankhome had just been vandalized.

By the time she mortally wounded the garbage squid, the trail for her first and best lead on Kenobi had nearly gone cold.

Nearly.

Part XXVI

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #quinlan vos #asajj ventress #star wars au #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27

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thiefofstars16 · 3 years

Text

Right so I have a lot of Obi-Wan-centric ideas that will not leave me alone, but here's one that I wanted to write down the start of (and also Maz Kanata deserved more screen time):

Where Obi-Wan gets taught by Maz Kanata to deal with his overwhelming visions, questionably nice-ish Sith and frankly vicious Jedi holocrons, and somehow unexpectedly (or maybe predictably?) falls in love with Jango Fett, the future Mand'alor. Along the way, he royally fucks up the thousand-year-plan-to-rule-the-galaxy made by Darth Bane's idiots, saves the Haat Mando'ade and Mandalore as a whole, and gives the Jedi Order a collective kick in the ass to get their shit together.

----

Obi-Wan Falls while on Melida/Daan, and he's just...furious. Wants to rail at the injustice that he's suffered, at the injustice that the Young had faced, that he had faced on Bandomeer, on Phindar, at the Coruscant Temple itself, at his own Master who didn't even want him in the first place. But at his core, he's still the same even having Fallen, he knows this - he still wants to do good, still wants to help people. It's just...where does he go from here?

----

Obi-Wan Kenobi, cast out from the Order after the latest clusterfuck that was Melida/Daan, somehow ends up at Dex's Diner, alone, with no braid, no 'sabre, and honestly, no idea what to do next. He didn't even realize that he was in the diner that his Master - former Master - had taken him to in their brief time together.

Dex, though, sits across from this pint-sized former-Padawan, remembers that at one time the baby Jedi looked at him and decided that he'd save Dex because it was "the right thing to do " (the baby Jedi's words, not his). And Dex could not let this kid go out on his own, so he goes to his collection of interesting things - which was usually information - that included items which were supplied by a former pirate, who so happened to be quite knowledgeable in weird Force things.

Which is entirely the reason I'm entrusting Ol' Kanata with this kid, Dex thinks, a bit bemused, Though who's to say it's not Maz trusting me to lead Obi-Wan back to her? Considering she probably saw this coming in the first place.

So, he discreetly hands Obi-Wan the things he'd received from Maz for safe-keeping (who had given Dex a knowing look and said she'd be seeing these items again) - which, obviously, include a few holocrons (of slightly questionable nature), many spare credit chips, and (maybe not-so-suprisingly) two khyber and one adegan crystals that sing in the Force loudly enough to startle Obi-Wan from the daze he'd been in since he sat down.

"What's this?" Obi-Wan quietly asks, slightly wary, but intrigued at the hum of the crystals now in his hands.

Dex laughs. "Don't you worry, kid. I got all of this from a reputable source! In fact, that source could be your next stop, as from what I understand you ain't got no one to go back to?" Dex says, not unkindly.

A sharp sting of sorrow cuts Obi-Wan to the core, but he nods, somewhat confused.

"Well then, I can get you on a ship headed out to Takodana to stay with Ol' Kanata - she can get you settled real quick-like," he pauses, shrugs a little, "she'll also be able to help with any funny Force things that your kind get up to, Dark or Light."

The thing is, even only knowing Dex for a short while, Obi-Wan is one hundred percent sure that Dex knows an entirely illegal amount about what happened even if the larger populace remains unaware.

With this knowledge at the forefront of his mind, Obi-Wan is a bit wary. If he were a bit less numb, he'd probably be in tears at the suggestion that there might be someone actually able to help him deal with his recent trip into the well of the Dark. He knew that if someone were truly aware of how far he'd Fallen - because not even the Council knew the extent - then he would be in major karking shit.

But he counted Dex as a friend, and with a little questioning nudge to the Force, knew with certainty that Dex only wanted to help him, even if that meant skirting Republic law.

(He knew he Fell, he knew that he had killed people, though the memories of broken bodies and blood were so blurry that he couldn't remember their faces.

Their screams, on the other hand? Oh, he remembered those.

He couldn't stop remembering those.

A small part of him - the part that had raged at the Republic's refusal to get involved, at Master Jinn's own karking attachment to Master Tahl, at the Elders murdering each other, at the Elders killing their own damned children for the sake of war and death and blood - that part bared sharp teeth in savage triumph at the justice he had handed out and purred at the memory of those screams.)

Shaking himself from the direction his thoughts had taken, he looked at Dex and with a tremor in his voice, asked, "You think she could help me-help me get rid of my Darkness?"

The Besalisk sighed. "Kid, no one can ever truly get rid of their own Darkness. Hells, I know I'm not fully clean anymore and won't ever be," Obi-Wan slumped, and hastily wiped away the frustrated tears that had started to form; Dex leaned down to put one of his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, "But that doesn't mean she can't help you. Ol' Kanata knows a thing or two about Light and Dark, and she'll give you a space where you can sort things out for yourself, safely, and away from prying eyes. She knows quite a bit about staying off the Republic's radar, and she can give you a place where you can do all things you need to do. I know you, kid - I know that you won't want to stop helping people."

Dex paused, and said with warning, "It won't be easy, kid. There's all sorts hanging around her den - bounty hunters, smugglers, even Mandos - but she'll do right by you. And I have a sense that you need her. So. Whaddya say?"

The mention of those types of people, of Mandalorians, caused Obi-Wan to pale. But he frowned, opened himself up to the currents of the Force and tried to think this through, because really what choice did he have?

On some level he wanted to say no, to go crawling back to the Jedi Order and beg to be accepted again, to be a Jedi, he knew he was supposed to have been a Jedi Knight, he knew that war was on the horizon and that Darkness clouded the Force and that he needed to do something -

He stopped that thought in it's tracks. Because. Because...what was stopping him from doing something about what was coming? Truly? What was stopping him from being a Jedi? Yes, he wouldn't be a part of the Order, and maybe he wouldn't have a Master, but isn't the Code just a philosophy? Couldn't he strive to do good, to help others, to do as the Force willed on his own?

It was almost heretical. To be a Jedi that didn't bow to the Order. To be a Fallen Jedi that, that...that could work in the Dark to serve the Light.

He could do it, he mused. He could go to this 'Kanata', take the offer of shelter and learn from the artifacts given to him by Dex, learn from those who walked a different path. It would be dangerous, especially if there were Mandalorians involved. Though...if he did this, he wouldn't be a Jedi anymore, would he?

What else did he have to lose? He's already lost his chance at being part of the Order, at being a Padawan, at proving himself to the Masters that thought him too arrogant and brash and un-Jedi-like.

Well, Obi-Wan thought with a bit of self-reproach and no small amount of growing excitement, if I was already un-Jedi-like while actually being in the Jedi Order, then I suppose I really don't have anything to lose, do I?

With a nod of determination, a tight grip on the newly aquired items, and something of a new hope unfurling in is heart, he accepted Dex's offer of a haven with Maz Kanata and her possibly-not-so-legal den of wandering spacers.

Obi-Wan had no idea that in doing so, he changed the course of the galaxy.

(Somewhere, a bit later on, Palpatine feels a shiver of not-quite-unease crawl down his spine. But, he dismisses the absolute absurd idea that something had changed, that something had caused the galaxy to shift to the Light.

If he had looked into it, he would have found that one Maz Kanata, along with a former young Jedi by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi, had a curious little run-in with the bounty hunter and Mand'alor Jaster Mereel.

Arrogance, as per usual, would be the downfall of the Sith of Bane's Line.)

#yikes that was longer than anticipated #a thought - the song playing on repeat during writing this is awakening by unleash the archers #i want to continue this but i am decidely tired af atm #maybe I'll post another bit again next week or so #idk if I'll finish this #but if i do #ill tag it as something that i can come back to #theifofstars fic - awakening #jangobi #sith obi wan #or really morally gray Obi-Wan #maz kanata #not really qui-gon jinn friendly #obi-wan is a bit fucked up #and a lot sad #sw fanfic #star wars #good gods I've edited this so many times lmao #lemme know what yall think?#also anyone catch the assassins creed ref #and sw pun?#i figure there'll be flashbacks to just before this and melida/daan #awakening: pt 1 #actually the song that fits this is 'the wind that shapes the land' by unleash the archers now that im thinking about it #obi wan kenobi

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grumpyhedgehogs · 3 years

Text

and the world tilts upon its axis

Summary: “You never told us.” Anakin’s words pierce directly into Ahsoka’s heart; she can’t imagine what they do to his master. That stricken feeling flits through the Force again before Obi-Wan can wrangle it again. At least it gets Anakin to look up. He looks torn, agonized, pained, but repeats, unsteady, “You never told us.”

“The past is not an easy thing for me to speak of.”

Notes: (Obligatory ‘everyone finds out about Obi-Wan’s shitty childhood’ fic.) Past Abuse/Violence, Slavery.

“It really isn’t a problem anymore,” Obi-Wan tells them all very reasonably. “I haven’t had a vision in years--not a clear one, anyway. Feelings, things like that, but nothing so concrete as they used to be. Master Qui-Gon taught me how to see past the feelings years ago.”

“You used to get Force visions,” Ahsoka says, tone rather shrill, “and you never told us?”

Anakin makes a loud choking noise deep in his throat. Cody, sitting on a crate of supplies near where Ahsoka and her master collapsed half an hour after their latest battle, shakes his head. Ahsoka pulls herself up to sit beside him, feeling rather as if something very important has been ripped away from her before she even knew it existed. He looks up at Obi-Wan, the only one standing out of all of them, and says, “I don’t understand what the big deal is.”

“There isn’t one,” Rex supplies. Skyguy tries to swat at him without taking his arm from over his eyes, but Rex moves out of the way and leans back against a wall of the Resolute. He shrugs. “Jedi are just dramatic like that.”

“Much as I dislike the generalization,” Obi-Wan interjects, “I have to agree in this case. Force visions can be upsetting and helpful in equal measure, and they faded from my mind a long time ago. I’m surprised my medical files even contain a record of those after all these years."

“What if they come back!” Anakin sits up, glaring. “You never even said anything. I’ve heard Master Windu talking about how forceful they can be--you cold pass out if a vision comes at the wrong time! I’ve heard some younglings are prone to seizures!”

The thought makes Ahsoka shudder. She wraps her arms around herself surreptitiously. Cody sends her a sympathetic look.

The next words out of Master Kenobi’s mouth make her blood go cold. “Well, yes, I know that, Anakin. I was the youngling Mace was speaking of.”

“What.”

Obi-Wan waves his commander off, though, and shakes his head. “Honestly, it’s fine now. We wouldn’t even need to have this useless conversation if you hadn’t sliced into my medical files, Anakin--”

Rex is already across the room and peering over Anakin’s shoulder as her master rifles through his datapad, so Ahsoka chalks Obi-Wan’s efforts up as a lost cause. She pulls her own datapad out and shuffles closer to Cody instead; Skyguy sent her a copy of her grandmaster's file as soon as he could manage. Something about not being able to trust Obi-Wan when he said he didn’t need to go to medical.

Ahsoka thinks that is the pot calling the kettle black, but--

“You have nerve damage?”

At Rex’s incredulous exclamation, Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a long, long moment. Then he opens them, runs a hand over his beard, and looks around for a place to sit. “This is going to be a long conversation, I see. Is everyone sure they wouldn’t like to move to, I don’t know, anywhere but the cargo hold, before we begin?”

“Shinies are everywhere else,” Rex points out briskly, “but the cargo hold is too cold for most of us. We run too warm to be comfortable here.”

“That isn’t good. You should’ve told us sooner--I’ll have to talk to Master Shaak Ti about what we can do for you.”

“Deflecting.” Anakin intones. In any other setting, his stern tone would make her laugh. Obi-Wan sighs again, and settles down into a meditation pose across from his former padawan, fixing them all with a half-exasperated, half-doting look.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “I have nerve damage. I’m sure you’ve all seen how many layers I wear? It’s to help my blood circulation. I can’t keep myself warm enough otherwise, because I can’t feel how cold my surface skin is until it’s too late. So, extra clothing all the time, just in case. I can deal with a little sweat if the outcome is less chance of frostbite.”

“ Why do you have nerve damage?”

“Have you seen how many times I’ve been electrocuted?” Obi-Wan answers. He’s too serene for Ahsoka’s liking.

“I’ve been electrocuted twice as much as you have,” Anakin points out. At his shoulder, Rex nods, but stops when Anakin snaps his gaze to his captain. He turns back to his former master. “And I don’t have nerve damage.”

“You’ve been electrocuted twice as much as I have been recently.” Her grandmaster normally looks a little tired, but this conversation seems to be getting to him more than most; he rubs at his face again, and, with his hand still over his eyes, says, “Electro-whips and prods were the weapon of choice in the mines.”

The words are quiet, like Obi-Wan really meant for them to be under his breath, but it makes every spine in the room go rigid.

Very slowly, Anakin sits forward on his knees. His datapad slips from his lap. Rex only just catches it before it clatters to the floor. Ahsoka has never seen her master’s eyes look as sharp as they are now. “Which mines, Master? And what were you doing there?”

Obi-Wan’s lips thin. “You do realize I’ve had an entire life without you? Twenty years or so, in fact. Things did happen to me before you came along.”

It’s always been a fact that Obi-Wan is older than herself and her master. It’s never bothered Ahsoka before--until now. To know he’s been alone--without them, at least--for so long? The clones are all artificially aged to be around Obi-Wan’s age, maybe a little younger. It’s easy for Ahsoka to forget they haven’t been around forever, that Cody hasn’t been one step behind his general every day of both their lives. It turns her stomach.

“Answer the question!” Anakin all but demands.

Obi-Wan’s hand falls from his face and for a second Ahsoka can detect something stricken in the Force before his expression smooths over into an artificial calm. “It’s really not--”

“No.” Cody says. It’s all he can seem to get out. Ahsoka tries not to flinch at the darkening mood in the Force and reaches out to loosely grip Cody’s wrist. After a moment, he turns his hand over and offers her his palm as Obi-Wan begins, reluctantly, to speak. Ahsoka takes it.

Obi-Wan bites his lip when he tells them about being sent away from the temple.

It rocks Ahsoka to her core when he speaks about the situation on Bandomeer, even more so with the revelation that he nearly wasn’t a Jedi. A Jedi Order without Obi-Wan Kenobi? A Council without his guidance? A GAR without the Negotiator?

Her lineage without his support?

“You had to fight a Hutt without anyone to help you.” Anakin sounds more choked than he did before. Ahsoka wishes she could reach out and soothe him in the Force, but she’s doing her best to keep her shields up. The Force knows how Master Obi-Wan is feeling right now.

“Master Qui-Gon helped me when he could,” Obi-Wan assures. His voice isn't as steady as she’s used to, but he carries on admirably. It makes Ahsoka wonder how long it took him to perfect his sabacc face. Her heart twists in her chest. “He’s also the reason I only spent a few weeks in the mines--I was fitted with a Force-inhibiting collar, you see, so I had to have help navigating my way out with the rest of the--” He cuts himself off. It takes a minute for the gears to turn in her head, for Ahsoka to realize he doesn’t intend to continue.

“The?” Rex prompts, face and tone bleak. “The miners?”

Obi-Wan actually does wince now. “The slaves.”

“It was a bomb collar,” Anakin says. "You were fitted with a bomb collar." His face is blank until Obi-Wan nods, at which point his expression seems to crumple in on itself. Anakin puts his head between his knees and breathes loudly through his mouth. Obi-Wan pauses and refuses to go on until Anakin raises his head and glares her grandmaster into submission. In the back of her mind, in the only small corner not screaming in horror, Ahsoka hopes one day she’ll be able to cow her own master like that.

She regrets the thought as soon as Obi-Wan speaks, quiet and too soft into the dead silence of the air around them, about Melida/Daan. “They were just children,” Obi-Wan whispers. His hands clench and unclench on his thighs and it is all Ahsoka can do not to let go of Cody’s fingers and throw her arms around him. “I couldn’t leave them behind, even if it cost me my place among the Jedi. They had no one else to turn to. You must understand?”

It explains so much of his file--parts of it are redacted, too early in his apprenticeship to signal anything but disaster, and he’s reported too many times to the Halls of Healing--too many times he’s had to be carried in. If Ahsoka had the same medical record her grandmaster does, she’d have to get herself grievously injured on every other mission, and she’s grown up in a Force forsaken warzone.

She’s positive she doesn’t want to hear the rest.

Ahsoka isn’t sure how long it has been when Obi-Wan’s voice peters out soon after his explanation of Cerasi’s sacrifice on his behalf (and Force, did everyone Obi-Wan ever loved have to keep dying in his arms, it’s so disgusting, it’s awful, how could this happen so much to just one person, to someone she loves--). After a long moment of quiet, Ahsoka finds the strength, herculean as it is, to lift her gaze from where it has been fixed on her knees. Her grandmaster stares into middle space just the same as her, and his face is as she has never seen it before--stone cold, closed off and unwelcoming. It’s sort of like when Skyguy gets into one of his moods.

Speaking of Skyguy, he doesn’t seem to be faring much better; his head is between his knees again but his hands, like Rex’s beside him, are clenched into fists. He’s shaking so hard she can see it from across the room. Ahsoka realizes that at some point Cody let go of her own hand, and glances around to see him clenching his bucket on his knees fit to crush it between his very human palms.

Then her grandmaster draws himself up into a proper sitting position and sighs, a light puff of air that Ahsoka has come to learn is his way of reorienting himself. “It worked out in the end. Qui-Gon came back for me when I called and was able to help bring balance to the planet--something I couldn’t have done alone. I was admitted back into the Order as his apprentice and then--” Obi-Wan’s lips twitch into a sardonic smile. “Well, nothing much happened until we went to Mandalore, but you know just about as much as I am willing to tell you about that experience.”

The attempt at humor falls a little too flat.

“You never told us.” Anakin’s words pierce directly into Ahsoka’s heart; she can’t imagine what they do to his master. That stricken feeling flits through the Force again before Obi-Wan can wrangle it again. At least it gets Anakin to look up. He looks torn, agonized, pained, but repeats, unsteady, “You never told us.”

“The past is not an easy thing for me to speak of.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Anakin’s eyes spark with heat. She can’t see much of Obi-Wan’s face from here when he turns his head, just enough to know they’re having one of their silent conversations. Those have become few and far between, of late. It’s almost a comfort to see.

“You were my padawan.” Obi-Wan says slowly, like he’s formulating his words as he thinks of them. Ahsoka herself feels drained, empty, a husk--she can’t imagine how he must feel right now. “Ahsoka is my grandpadawan. Rex and Cody are my subordinates. It’s incredibly inappropriate, not to mention irresponsible and near abusive, to unload such traumatic, personal stories upon those who cannot legally or knowingly consent--”

“Sir, permission to speak freely?” Cody doesn’t wait for more than a surprised, dry laugh, before he says, “That is absolutely the biggest crock of bantha fodder I’ve ever heard.”

“Perhaps. That does not mean it is not true. I should not have even told you now--I just don’t want you to find out from some clinical diagnosis instead. You all deserve better.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you believe everything you just said, even that kark you just spewed. It’s just horrifying to know you think it.” Cody’s grip relaxes on his helmet with no little effort. He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth once, and then opens his eyes and nods decisively first to Rex, who nods back, and then to Obi-Wan, who looks puzzled. “But we’re here to help, Sir. No matter what.”

Obi-Wan’s smile pulls a little wider. “Even if I don’t want it, hm?”

“Especially then,” Rex agrees. “Right, General? Commander?”

“Of course.” Ahsoka says, the words struggling so much to stampede out of her mouth that they trip over themselves.

“Always.” Anakin croaks. He’s the first to scramble to his feet as his master rises. He’s the first to throw himself at Obi-Wan. He’s the first to wrap him in an embrace that lasts maybe a bit longer than Master Kenobi’s sense of decorum would prefer. (Not that she sees her grandmaster complaining, of course.)

Anakin is not the last.

Rex settles for a nod and a clap on the shoulder. It’s only his position closer to Skyguy and Obi-Wan that gets her captain there before his commander; Ahsoka shoves him bodily out of the way and wraps her arms as tight as she can around Obi-Wan’s middle. Her skin itches and her muscles flex with the need to squeeze the sadness, the pain, the terrible past right out of him, even if she knows that’s silly. She tries anyway. Subtly, of course. Obi-Wan holds her back, just as he held Anakin before her, warm and all-encompassing and so safe. (Now she knows why. Now she knows he needs to feel that she and her master before her and every youngling after them is safe, that they are protected against a world that threatened to swallow him up and spit out his bones.)

Cody is last, stepping up to his general as Ahsoka pulls away reluctantly. He holds out a hand and Obi-Wan, without missing a beat (although his eyes are a little misty, but so are Ahsoka’s, and Anakin's, and Rex’s), grips his commander’s forearm. He goes very still when Cody pulls him into a keldabe. Ahsoka turns her eyes away when he lets out a trembling breath. Cody speaks, but his rumbling tone is too low for Ahsoka to pick out words. It’s alright, though; they aren’t for her.

“Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore.” Cody murmurs, slightly louder. Obi-Wan scoffs quietly and Ahsoka turns her head just in time to see Cody smirk back, pull away, and shake Obi-Wan’s arm, just a little, friendly, familiar. It makes the clawing, cloying thing in her chest that has grown throughout the evening finally ease. Skyguy wraps an arm around her, guiding them both out of the cargo hold and back to their quarters. He’s got the right idea--she’s very tired now.

Before the door closes behind Rex as they step outside, she hears Cody’s last words to Obi-Wan and wonders what they mean.

“ Aliit ori'shya tal'din.”

The Force is noticeably lighter when Ahsoka wakes in the morning.

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

Note

hello! how about #8- “You’re looking a little pale.” and/or #15 “I’m fine… just a little dizzy.” with Obi-Wan and Dooku?

Hi Kate!!! Thanks for the prompt!! // from these prompts // prompts now closed!

I have no idea when Dooku actually left the order, so I made it up for my purposes. Obi-Wan is still a padawan here, but he's like 19-20ish.

Read on Ao3 (or below the cut)

Here ya go!

---

The floor of an unfamiliar starship is not the most pleasant place to wake up.

Admittedly, the cold, hard floor of a starship is not the worst place Obi-Wan has ever woken up, but it certainly isn’t the most ideal place to come back into consciousness on.

He blinks, focusing his vision on his surroundings. The space he is in is barren but sleek. He can tell that the ship he has found himself on is a nice ship.

Groaning, he assesses himself for injuries. Aside from some slight motion sickness from laying on the floor of a ship in flight, Obi-Wan is physically unharmed.

He pushes himself to his feet and carefully inches his way down the short corridor. Peering into the cockpit, he can see the side profile of… no. It can’t be.

“You’re awake,” Dooku says plainly without looking at him.

“Master Dooku?” Obi-Wan questions.

“Actually, it’s ‘Count’ now. I’ve had a bit of a title change.”

Yes, that was right. Dooku left the Order a couple years ago when Obi-Wan was still in his early teens. He doesn’t know much about Dooku’s departure other than that it was due to a difference in ideology. Obi-Wan is not sure what that ideology may be. The other Jedi hardly speak of it. Qui-Gon never does.

“What am I doing here?” Obi-Wan asks cautiously.

“No pleasantries for your Grandmaster?”

“I see no reason for them,” Obi-Wan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve only met you a handful of times. Oh, and you kidnapped me.”

“Fine, we’ll skip the salutations then,” Dooku says. “You’re here for a reason that you will see shortly.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. Of course, he isn’t going to get a straight answer.

“How wonderfully vague, though I suppose you are more forthcoming than most kidnappers.”

“I presume you have experience with them then?”

“It cannot be helped that so many people want me,” Obi-Wan smirks.

“A lot of arrogance for a young man who does not know where he is.”

“Call it a character flaw.”

Obi-Wan looks down at his hands.

“You’re wondering why I have not bound you,” Dooku says.

Obi-Wan shrugs his shoulders. “The thought did cross my mind. As I mentioned, this is not exactly my first time getting kidnapped.”

“Why would I have you bound? You are not my prisoner Obi-Wan.”

“Oh really? I do not remember choosing to be here.”

“You will choose to be here.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t care for the certainty in Dooku’s tone.

“If I’m not your prisoner, why did you take my lightsaber?”

“You’re not my prisoner, but I do not need any hotheaded padawans getting any funny ideas before we get where we need to go.”

“And where may that be?” Obi-Wan tries again.

The Force seems to thrum around them and dread pools in Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“A looking glass, of sorts,” Dooku answers.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. This lineage is so weird.

“Must you be so cryptic all the time?” Obi-Wan asks. “Why not just tell me where we are going?”

“I could tell you, or I could let you see for yourself,” Dooku says. With that, the ship slips out of hyperspace and glides towards a green planet.

“Where are we?” Obi-Wan asks again.

Dooku plucks at levers and pushes at buttons, taking his sweet time in answering Obi-Wan’s question. “This planet does not have a name, though there are several places throughout the galaxy that are like it. Rare as they are, they are places of great import for individuals like us.”

“Individuals like us?”

“Force-sensitives.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the way Dooku says the words, like their shared abilities somehow make them the same.

They are not the same.

“So why are we here?”

“You are here to see your destiny.” The statement comes out simple and sure.

Oh, Obi-Wan does not have a good feeling about this at all.

***

The ship lands in an unassuming clearing in an unassuming forest on an unassuming planet.

Dooku makes Obi-Wan get off the ship first, much to his annoyance. It would have been very easy to steal the ship if only Dooku had gone first.

“I advise you stay close,” Dooku says, clearly having already thought about Obi-Wan’s would be escape plans. “This forest is not a place you want to be alone in at night without a communicator. I would hate for you to get lost.”

Obi-Wan looks around and gets the sense that Dooku is right. Obi-Wan has his fair share of survival skills learned through a mixture of experience and traditional Temple-based training, but that does not mean he wants to put them to use.

Dooku takes the lead, but even then, Obi-Wan feels as though he is being watched.

The forest is not as unassuming as Obi-Wan initially believed. His bad feeling intensifies with every step he takes — the Force pulsing through his veins tells him to be careful.

It is not long before the bad feeling turns physical. The longer they walk, the worse Obi-Wan begins to feel. It started as a nagging headache blooming in the back of his skull. Now, he fights dark spots that dance behind his eyes.

“You’re looking a little pale,” Dooku says in a way that is both deeply condescending and somehow still somewhat caring.

Obi-Wan takes a few labored breaths and tries to blink back the dark spots from his vision. He rests a palm on a tree trunk and leans against it. “I’m fine… just a little dizzy.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

Obi-Wan whips his head over to Dooku and immediately regrets the fast movement as it sends another wave of nausea through him. “What did you do to me?”

“It is not me. It is your attachment to the light. That is the source of your weakness. Practitioners of the light side don’t do so well in places like this.”

Dooku hands him a canteen and Obi-Wan eyes it warily.

Dooku sighs and rolls his eyes. “Would I have gone to the trouble of taking you all this way just to poison you? Drink.”

Obi-Wan accepts the canteen.

“The light is not my weakness. It is my strength,” Obi-Wan says after a long draught. He hands the canteen back to Dooku.

“Maybe,” Dooku says. “But not here.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep, centering breath and tries to remain calm. Wherever he is, he gets the feeling that he absolutely should not be here. He carries on anyway.

Twigs snap and leaves crunch under his feet until he notices them start to dampen. Solid ground turns soggy the farther they walk. They approach the gaping maw of a cavern, and at its face lies a spring — the source of the mud. Light dances on half of its surface while the other half lingers in the shadow of the cave.

“I presume this is where you are taking me?” Obi-Wan asks, unable to pull his gaze from the spring.

“Very astute,” Dooku says. “Keep going.”

The mud under his feet squelches and sticks, almost as if nature itself protests his movements. Obi-Wan does not want to keep going. Everything inside of him is telling him not to keep going.

Get out of here, Obi-Wan. It’s not safe here, Obi-Wan. It’s dangerous here, Obi-Wan.

The voice in his head telling him to stop almost wins, but his body is weakened by the dark energy that pulses through this place and Dooku is pushing him along. His feet drag and he is brought forth towards the spring.

Dooku kicks the back of his knees and he falls to the ground. His hands sink into the mud.

Now on his knees, Obi-Wan finds himself staring at his own reflection on the surface of the water.

“What is so special about this?” Obi-Wan asks between labored breaths.

“I’ve already told you.”

Obi-Wan looks back at the water and finds himself staring at someone new. No. Not someone new. Himself. Older. But it is undeniably him.

His Padawan brain is gone and a beard covers his face. His brows are set in a harsh look of concern — the same one Qui-Gon makes fun of him for, though there is nothing funny about the scene that begins to play out in front of him now.

A fire. A fury. The Jedi Temple under siege. Scorch marks. The gleam of sabers and the blue bolts of blasters.

Everyone dead or dying.

Everyone except him.

“This is a trick. This can’t be real,” Obi-Wan says, but he cannot tear his eyes away from the water’s reflection.

“Of course it is. Don’t you see?” Dooku implores. “This is your destiny.”

Obi-Wan shivers, the cold of the Dark Side raising gooseflesh across his skin. He can feel his body trying to submit under the pressure of the Dark Side, even as his spirit resists. The pressure builds and his body trembles. He feels as though he is about to pass out and he is sure he would have, were it not for a familiar voice that calls out.

“That’s enough, Dooku,” Qui-Gon says. “Let him go.”

Hope sings in Obi-Wan’s chest.

“Padawan,” Dooku says. “Good of you to join us.”

“Let. Him. Go.” Qui-Gon’s strong voice echoes through the cavern.

“I’m not holding him and he is not my prisoner. He looks into the waters of the Dark Side purely of his own volition.”

Qui-Gon ignites his blade and strides toward Obi-Wan. Dooku ignites his own saber and blocks Qui-Gon’s path.

“Do not interrupt him, Padawan.”

“Do not call me that,” Qui-Gon hisses. “And get out of my way.”

“He needs to finish this on his own.”

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon says. “Don’t look at that. There is nothing for you there.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan squeaks out, sounding more like a scared youngling than the young man that he actually is. “I don’t like it here.”

“I know,” Qui-Gon says. “We can leave. Just look away from the water.”

Obi-Wan wants to look away from the water, but its pull is that of a siren call. Irresistible.

“Master Dooku said my destiny is in here.”

“Master Dooku is a liar. Come with me. Please Padawan, just look away from the water and come with me.”

“You are making a mistake, Qui-Gon.”

“The only mistake I made was taking my eyes off of him. I knew you had changed, but kidnapping? You’ve resulted to kidnapping padawans now?”

“Look at him, he is hardly a youngling anymore. You could make him a knight tomorrow if you knew how to let go. But either way, drastic measures have to be taken to show him the path he should follow.”

“This is not his path,” Qui-Gon says. “He will never join you. He will never join the Dark Side.”

“Are you so sure?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon says firmly. “He’ll never join you. Obi-Wan… he’s… he’s different. He’s good. Even your ichor cannot taint his light.”

“Even the most righteous Jedi are tempted by the dark.”

“Not him. Never him.”

Obi-Wan can feel the strength of Qui-Gon’s convictions, his hope, through their bond. He clings to it like a drowning man clings to a rope and with what remains of his strength, he pulls himself from the dark waters that threaten to consume him.

“Master?” Obi-Wan questions weakly.

“You are making a mistake, Obi-Wan,” Dooku says. “Only pain and misery await you if you stay on your current path. You saw it yourself and you shall see it again.”

“The future is in motion,” he says shakily. “Nothing is set in stone.”

“Don’t be naive, Obi-Wan. Remain on your path, and the future you saw remains inevitable.”

Obi-Wan swallows back the lump in his throat. “Regardless, there is no future where I follow you.”

Obi-Wan staggers forward. His fingers grasp for his lightsaber, but he knows he is in no condition to take on Dooku. To his relief and to his surprise, Dooku does not reach for his own saber. He stands to the side and lets Obi-Wan climb back up the hill. He does not look angry, only disappointed. There is not much time for Obi-Wan to ponder this before Dooku shakes his head and turns back, walking out the way they came in.

Qui-Gon watches Dooku leave, never taking his piercing gaze off of his former master until he has blended fully into the shadows. With his disappearance, Qui-Gon darts down the hill towards Obi-Wan. Rocks and loose dirt rolls down the hill with each of Qui-Gon’s heavy steps, but it does not slow him down.

The sight of his Master and the security of knowing he was coming to save him makes some of the fight die down inside of him. He trips over his own feet and falls forward on the slippery hill. Mud and dying leaves stick to his robes and his skin while the smell of decay that accompanies a forest floor fills his nostrils.

He just wants to get out of here.

Though it seems he will not have to wait much longer. Strong hands grab his arms and drag him to his feet. Qui-Gon dusts off his shoulders while giving him a once-over.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not… not really.”

“That was a yes or no question, Obi-Wan.”

“No,” Obi-Wan says, trying to put more strength behind his words. “He cannot hurt me.”

“Actually, he can, but I’m glad he did not.”

Obi-Wan offers Qui-Gon a weakened smile.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Qui-Gon says, lending Obi-Wan a steadying arm.

Obi-Wan leans on his Master and lets him guide him home.

#prompts now closed #my writing #thanks for the prompt!#obi wan kenobi #dooku #qui gon jinn

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siennahrobek · 3 years

Text

Ahsoka couldn’t stop staring at him.

Vaguely, she knew some things about her lineage, although honestly, it always had felt like it was just her, Anakin and Obi-Wan. She knew a man named Qui-Gon Jinn had been Obi-Wan’s master, and that Anakin sometimes wouldn’t shut up about that guy. She knew that Count Dooku was Master Jinn’s, which was just so weird to think about, especially him being part of their lineage. Or supposed to be. It made some sense, on some level, she supposed, because Dooku had kept complimenting Master Obi-Wan, and she had even heard that the man tried to turn her grandmaster. It sounded ridiculous, Master Obi-Wan ever leaving the Order.

Master Obi-Wan didn’t talk about his own master that much. Apparently, he hadn’t even met Count Dooku until he had left the Jedi and the war was about to start. Anakin had only known Qui-Gon for something of a week and didn’t know him that well, despite the way he talked about him, one would have thought that he was not only Anakin’s hero but also knew him for a long time. She supposed it made sense that Qui-Gon would have had other padawans before her own grandmaster, he had achieved the rank of master and was around the age of sixty by the time he had died.

If Master Obi-Wan knew about Qui-Gon’s other padawans, he didn’t really say anything. Although then again, they had been in the middle of the war. There was not a lot of time for that sort of thing.

She wondered if Master Obi-Wan knew about Feemor.

Somehow, she kind of doubted it.

Ahsoka and Feemor had been sequestered in one of the rooms in the Healing Halls, as the glue on his cut was drying and she was trying to get her mind back in working order. She hadn’t answered him when he said he was Master Obi-Wan’s brother. She had just stared at him for a moment before completely changing the subject. He seemed to get a hint of some kind and didn’t pursue it. He told her that Rex was either prepping for or in the middle of a surgery, that it wouldn’t take very long as it was a rather straightforward and short surgery and explained a little more about the chips that had been in the clones’ heads. It made her sick. If Rex or any one of the 322nd had gotten those orders during flight…if Master Obi-Wan hadn’t warned her…she didn’t want to think what would have happened.

The fact that Commander Cody had attacked Master Obi-Wan seemed insane enough.

She wasn’t thinking of Anakin when she spoke again, and it had been nearly half an hour. There had to be something more to that. Perhaps he had a chip in his brain. Ahsoka couldn’t even imagine a thought on why Anakin would murder children without being forced.

“What do we do now?”

Feemor looked up at her, but he didn’t seem to have an answer. She figured he would suggest going back to the fight. It was a horrifying choice, she didn’t want to fight anyone, much less the 501st. They were her family too.

“We prepare,” a new voice replied, calm and stern.

Both Jedi glanced over. Rex was in his blacks, standing tall with a bandage slapped on the side of his head where the incision must have been. He looked scared and tired but determined.

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka asked.

“They have the near entirety of the 501st legion,” Rex pointed out, grimly. “Even with defensive positions and the defense of the Temple itself, the Jedi can’t hold out forever, especially with most of their warriors being out in the field with the rest of the troopers.”

“Evacuation,” Feemor pointed out, stroking his chin as he glanced at the floor in thought. Ahsoka stared, as it was rather reminiscent of Master Obi-Wan with the same action. “When Obi-Wan contacted Kamino before the battle started, he mentioned that we may have to flee. He also mentioned it when he talked to one of the troopers in the 212th, warning them about communications. I think he was certain we would have to. And I think he is right.”

Rex nodded, even though he had shot Master Feemor a look Ahsoka couldn’t identify. “Us three aren’t going to be a lot of help in the battle itself. We have to trust the leaders who are doing it for the moment to keep the others at bay. But we can get a head start on preparations for evacuation.”

“Obi-Wan’s 212th knows,” Feemor added, gesturing above them. “They are blocking all communications so they can’t get Orders. From what we can gather, the chips are activated when the Sith Lord says certain things and then can be activated if a clone trooper is near an activated chip of another. So right now, the 212th is relatively safe. The only problem is, I don’t think we will be able to contact them. If they followed Obi-Wan’s instructions, there is only one clone with communications, and I don’t think he will accept anything from anyone but Obi-Wan.”

“Let me guess,” Rex said in some sort of tone that was a mix of amused and flat. “Waxer or Boil.”

Feemor blinked. “Uh…Boil I think.”

“Knew it,” Rex muttered with a faint smirk. Given an odd glimpse, Rex just shrugged. “Pretty sure those two are General Kenobi’s favorites.”

“We should contact Jesse and the 332nd,” Ahsoka added, quickly. She already got up from her cot, a little dizzy, but continued to move. “We may still be able to save them.”

Feemor shrugged. “Alright. I’m sure Master Healer Che would be okay with us using her office for a holocall,” he continued, following Ahsoka into standing. Without another word, he turned towards the door. It took a few minutes to find her office – Ahsoka didn’t really know off the top of her head, but they did.

Ahsoka clicked in the number for her ship, Jesse and Echo’s forms popping up in the signature holo blue. “Commander!” Jesse greeted. “You just took a shuttle and hightailed it out of here. What happened? Were you going after Maul? You should have brought back up!”

Feemor glanced at the young togruta. “No. I didn’t go after Maul. Jesse, have you gotten any communications from anyone planet side?”

“No, sir. We blocked communications like you ordered. We weren’t entirely sure what you wanted after you left,” he admitted. “What is happening?”

“No, you did good,” Ahsoka assured. “There is a lot going on down here. I don’t have a lot of information but there are chips in every trooper’s head’s and the Sith has been using that to brainwash them into killing Jedi.”

Both Jesse and Echo’s face fell as they stared at her wide-eyed. “Tup.”

“Yes.”

“Fives was right then,” Jesse whispered.

“It appears so,” Ahsoka replied mournfully. “It seems the orders are transferred verbally from a single source and then passed on as one chip is activated, they all do according to proximity.”

“We need to get them out,” Echo hissed.

“I agree but things are…bad down here.”

“Bad?” Echo questioned, warily.

Ahsoka hesitated but Feemor answered for her. “The 501st legion is laying siege on the Temple, killing Jedi.”

No one said a word for a long minute.

Feemor continued, speaking in the silence. Ahsoka didn’t know what to say, how could she? “We are going to be evacuating once we can press the troopers back and have an opening. You need to be ready to flee when it happens. I’m very sorry but if you stay, the Sith will enslave you.”

“I understand, sir,” Echo’s voice was quiet and soft. “We will be ready for your communications and ready to come down and help if necessary.”

“Thank you, troopers,” Feemor replied. “We wanted to warn you about this before anything happens. A lot of soldiers are activated but please, don’t give away your location. We can’t help your brothers without a plan, and we don’t have enough people to do anything yet.”

“Understood, sir,” Jesse muttered.

“We have to go,” Ahsoka finally chimed in. “I will contact you soon.”

The holo blinked out. “I know that was hard, Ahsoka,” Feemor said quietly. “And we will save as many as we can.”

“We have supposedly been trying to do that for the entire war,” Ahsoka grumbled bitterly.

Rex came to the rescue. “We should move.”

“We should rescue Anakin.”

Feemor’s head snapped so fast, both nearly thought he would break it. “Save him?” he asked, with emphasis. Rex tried to get them through the door and out of the office. He mostly succeeded. “What does he need saving from, Ahsoka?”

“I think he might be chipped,” she replied, a bit defensively.

“You think he might be chipped.” Feemor echoed, flatly.

It appeared Rex didn’t really know where he was leading the two Jedi, but all he knew is that he needed to get them moving.

“Yes,” Ahsoka pouted, her lip curling. “He was my master. I know him. He would never do something like this.”

“He is leading a massacre on the Temple, against the Jedi, against his family,” Feemor added. Rex shoots an uneasy glance at the both of them, slowly working through the halls.

“He wouldn’t… there must be some explanation.”

“What possible explanation could there be for this?”

“You don’t know him!” Ahsoka snapped.

“You’re right. I don’t,” Feemor agreed, fighting to remain calm. Tensions too high would do them no good, even she knew that. But she was frustrated, and this was much all too difficult for her to understand or wrap her head around. It didn’t make any sense. “But I don’t need to right now. I saw him lead the siege on the Temple. I saw him cut down Jedi like they were nothing. You and I both saw him murder a defenseless youngling and young padawan. They were children,” he pointed out, bluntly. There was no sugar-coating the truth. Rex’s jaw clenched as he looked behind at the two of them again. Feemor shook his head and his voice softened. “This is what it means to be a Jedi, putting others’ lives above that of one, above oneself. You didn’t see the look on Obi-Wan’s face when he had to fight Anakin.”

Ahsoka stared at him, her feet moving without her even noticing.

“He knew,” Feemor shook his head softly. “And it was tearing him up inside. You don’t have to trust me or take my word for it, but you should trust Obi-Wan. He does know Anakin. Better than you.”

She hated that he was right; that if anyone knew Anakin, it would be Master Obi-Wan. He raised Anakin since he was young. But that didn’t mean she wanted to believe it. There was nothing to be said for a few moments before Rex stopped in his tracks and the two jedi nearly ran into him. “What is it?” Ahsoka asked.

“Do you hear that?”

Once they settled into silence, they could hear faint banging against a door. The three of them ran down the halls towards the sound. It became apparent once they got closer, the door moving as someone was throwing themselves at it, furniture and debris blockading it. They all looked at each other curiously. As Feemor and Ahsoka used the Force to move the debris, Rex readied his blasters. The two Jedi swung to the sides of the hall, just out of sight. As the door unlocked and opened, several troopers fell out.

“Good soldiers follow orders,” one of them mumbled.

Rex narrowed his eyes, slamming the butt of one of his guns hard against him, knocking him out. Feemor and Ahsoka ran into the brief fray as well, Ahsoka tangling around one of them to knock him unconscious while Feemor sent a wave of a force suggestion to the others.

“These are 501st,” Rex realized.

“The Jedi have been trying to trap them instead of kill,” Feemor answered. “We should get them to the Healing Halls to get their chips removed. Perhaps they can give us some information on how to stop the attack.”

Ahsoka didn’t look at him for a moment but quickly hooked her arms underneath a body to move it. Rex and Feemor had an easier time but eventually, they had gotten the troopers to the medical rooms. Ahsoka didn’t leave their side as Feemor found a med droid free and practically pushed the droid over.

The surgeries were quick and efficient; it didn’t take much.

When the first soldier came to not a couple of minutes later, he had immediately burst into tears which quickly turned into full out sobbing. Rex looked a little shocked but knelt at the soldier’s side. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay now,” he tried to comfort him. It was to little prevail, as the trooper just kept crying into his hands, his shoulders shuddering and his chest heaving heavily. Feemor reached out towards his presence and projected better feelings. Calm, safe, peace. It only helped a little, as it was enough that the trooper could get himself to speak.

“We thought we could trust him,” the trooper let out, gritting his teeth. He was quaking near violently, trying to gasp in breath. “We thought he cared. About us…but…he…he doesn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What is your name, trooper,” Feemor approached and asked, quietly.

“CT-.”

“Your name,” Feemor urged, softly.

“Impulse, sir,” the soldier responded, trying to keep down his cries. The tears still came but the sobs had died down.

“Hello Impulse, my name is Feemor. Can you tell us what you mean?” he asked, keeping his voice soft, although the jedi was fairly certain he knew who the trooper was speaking of.

“General Skywalker,” Impulse winced. “He…he led us on the Temple. We just killed everyone. No one is safe.”

Ahsoka’s face twisted. “He may be chipped or something, like you. We don’t know what is going on,” she tried, quiet and gentle.

The trooper stared at her, wide-eyed. “He was so angry when the Jedi put down ray shields at the doors and he couldn’t get in quietly. And when the jedi there spoke, he got frustrated and lashed out. He took my brother’s head clean off. He was just…just standing there! No one could do anything, no one even could even flinch! His head and helmet rolled to my feet. He was my batchmate, my best friend!”

Rex put a hand on the trooper’s shoulder and muttered quiet apologies but everyone could see his body became as stiff as a board. Ahsoka was nearly in tears as she stepped back, wide-eyed and horrified and Feemor stood up and ushered her away and out of sight of the two soldiers. She shook her head again and again. “It’s not possible.” She sounded more like she was talking to herself than anyone else, trying to convince herself that it couldn't be true. How could it be true?

“We don’t know what is going on yet,” Feemor assured but even he knew he didn’t sound very convinced. Ahsoka was fighting everything. From what she had learned, the chipped clones had been trapped inside themselves, unable to do much of anything outside of orders. Unable to express or speak when wanting too. Anakin seemed to be the opposite. But how could what she knew of Anakin be so wrong? “Is there anyone you can speak to for any insights or answers?”

“Padme,” Ahsoka replied, in realization.

Feemor’s eyes narrowed, confused. “Who?”

“Senator Padme Amidala,” Ahsoka repeated. “She’s a friend to the jedi and Anakin’s friend.”

She said friend like it meant something different. Ahsoka was pretty sure he understood what she meant. Ahsoka bounced back into Che’s office, the older master on her heels. She clicked in another number, but it took a few moments for the youthful face of the Senator to pop up. Her expression washed away into something of relief and joy when she saw Ahsoka. “Ahsoka!” she greeted.

“Padme,” Ahsoka smiled. “I have a lot to ask you and I’m not sure if I have much time.”

Her face turned to confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m on Coruscant-.”

“You are? Have you seen Anakin?”

Ahsoka frowned. “You don’t know where he is?”

“He has been acting stressed for the past couple of days. Obi-Wan has seen it too, he came to visit me about him the morning before he left to Utapau. Anakin has been under a lot of stress and having nightmares…I don’t know…”

“Nightmares about what?”

Padme hesitated.

“You can tell me.”

“I’m pregnant, Ahsoka.”

Although Feemor was off screen, he and Ahsoka exchanged looks. He wasn’t nearly surprised as Ahsoka thought he should have been. Did he know?

“He’s been having nightmares about me dying in childbirth,” Padme confessed. “He said he had found a way to save me, even though I told him I wasn’t going to die in childbirth. The likelihood of that, here, is…well, it doesn’t happen. Ahsoka, are you alright? It looks like there is smoke and fire coming from the Temple.”

Ahsoka glanced down. How to explain this. “The clones are chipped and brainwashed. They are leading an attack on the Temple.”

Padme gasped. “How? Why?!”

“The Sith have control over them,” Ahsoka’s eyes darkened at the thought. “But…that’s not all. Padme, Anakin is leading them. He is killing Jedi, masters, Guards…younglings.”

Padme’s eyes widened. “That is impossible, he would never do such a thing. You’re wrong. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t!”

Ahsoka couldn’t meet her eyes, but Feemor caught hers, a silent question passing between them. She steadied herself and looked back up. “I’ve seen him killing younglings,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “I…he’s turned to the Dark Side.”

The Senator just stared. And stared some more.

“My apologies, Ahsoka, someone is at the door. I must take my leave,” her voice was just a bit wavering, but she somehow kept a straight face. Ahsoka opened her mouth to try and stop her, but Padme interrupted her with little emotion aside from a strained voice. “I will call you later.”

Without anything else, she turned off the call.

Ahsoka swallowed. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

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funkwhistle · 3 years

Text

May the fourth be with you

Pairing: Obi Wan x GN!Reader

Warnings: Smut - but nothing that interesting. Maybe a little of getting caught in the act, a little angst maybe

Notes: Goddamed Rat getting me back into writing Star Wars i stg. this was meant for May 4th but i had exams and life so it's here now. (and this is my 400th post :))

“May the force be with you,” — his parting words and likely the last thing you'd ever hear him say. He'd been away for months now, completing his training of Anakin and probably doing something unnecessarily heroic. At least it would be something to tell the hypothetical grandkids, if he stayed alive long enough that is.

You thought about him almost more than you'd care to admit, and it wasn't like you'd be able to see him as soon as he came back either; the Jedi had forbidden any form of romantic relationship with it's trainees. Not that what you had with him could be considered romantic, hurried sex in the back of his ship or a stolen kiss in a dark hallway. That was one thing he was clear on; neither of you could form any sort of attachment.

For nearly the whole day you'd been sat there, watching as the sky went from a pale blue to a dark red as the evening bled through the city. And now the evening wind had picked up, biting a chill into your skin as your team awaited the promised return of Obi Wan's ship. You worked in ship maintenance, from making sure he had his favourite droid to ensuring the engine ran smoothly. Beside you, your team were shivering, pulling their fleeces tighter around their bodies and huddling close in an effort to protect each other from the weather.

Eventually, just as you were considering turning in for the night, a familiar ship returned to the landing bay, more battered than the last time you'd seen it, but still had the discernable red stripes on it. Blocking your face as the ship landed, you rushed forward to secure it to the ground and to grab a ladder, so he could get down. You were finally warming up a little, the warm fumes from the engine acting as a very effective heating system.

While you were scanning the ship for any major damage (surprisingly, there was very little) Obi Wan had climbed down and was making his way into the temple, without so much as a backwards glance at you. For a moment, a flash of hurt ran through you, which was furthered when he gladly spoke to some of your team on the way inside. You were unaccustomed to the feeling, but you knew it well enough, the pang of jealousy you weren't allowed to feel towards that man.

You didn't see him again for a few days, as usual on his return, he'd be briefing the council, teaching classes and attending senate meetings. While neither of you spoke to each other properly about your work, you could feel his stress after one of the meetings — his growing mistrust of the senate was ageing him faster than he'd like it to. And you were busy too, running diagnostics on the ship and fixing the broken metalwork, although there was minimal work required.

But this was where he found you, in the vehicle hangar, having dismissed your team for the weekend. As usual, you were noting anything which needed ordering in and totalling the costs for the past week; an exciting job of course. However, unlike usual, Obi Wan came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a hesitant kiss on your neck. The pair of you never did anything like this, preferring to keep anything between you two to the privacy of your room or the back of his ship.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, although not moving from his embrace, relaxing slightly into him.

“Mmhhmmm,” he hummed, not giving you an answer, preferring to kiss up your neck to your ear.

“Ben-”

“—yes?” he sounded almost weary, like his travels had taken a toll on him. Moving out of his grasp, you spun, so he was facing you, and you were met with his blue eyes staring at you, looking almost duller than the last time you'd seen him.

You just stared at him for a moment, taking him in, relishing in the comfort he provided you. Of course, he was still in his Jedi robes, and his hair was longer than the last time you'd seen him. His smile, however, was the same, and you couldn't keep yourself from doing it any longer, moving to lightly brush your lips on his.

As soon as your lips came in contact with his he moved, pulling you with desperation, so you were pushed against him and deepening the kiss. Sighing a little, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, toying with his hair and the plait he wore in it. You hated his current haircut, (not that you'd tell him) but also God, it was so good to run your hands through. And he seemed to like what you were doing, judging by his urgent kisses.

Your lips disconnected for a second to allow him to glance at you, hands feeling their way down your back to the hem of your shirt and pulling it a little.

“This alright?” he asked, teasing his fingers over your lower back, giving you the shivers. Nodding, you jerked your head to a ship behind you, and he fortunately picked up the hint; pulling you, so he could pick you up and carrying you to privacy. While he was lifting you, you peppered kisses and bites over his neck and shoulder, all able to be covered up though — you didn't need Yoda knowing about your sex life.

You were shoved against a wall as Ben's lips bruised onto yours again, yanking your shirt higher and higher until he could remove it entirely. Neither of you had the time to bask in the presence of the other now, fingers fumbling with the clasps on his robes as his shimmied your pants down your legs. The aching desperation between your legs was making itself more evident now, the fantasies you'd concocted over his time away filling your head. He was obviously listening to your thoughts, as he coked his head and grinned a little as he shrugged his clothes off.

Of course, he was hard already, that man was possibly the horniest one you'd ever met, and yet also the one you'd expect the least. Maybe it was all those years of celibacy. You didn't have time to think about this as he was lining his tip up with you, preparing to slide in as he glanced at you for conformation. With a small nod, he entered you, quietening any noise you would've made with his lips.

Even though you both had to rush, he took his time building up speed, his hands finding your shoulders, your hair, anything he could hold. Not that you were complaining either, tangling your hands in the hair at the base of his neck to pull him closer as if he could escape if you didn't hold each other.

The tentative pace did not last long however, as he began to jerk swiftly into you as you wrapped your legs around him to hold him deeper in you. The sound of skin on skin and panting filled the surrounding air, mingled with small grunts from him at the feeling of you digging your nails into his back. It had been a long time since he’d fucked you, and an even longer time since he’d fucked you like this; sharp erratic thrusts which made you almost squeal, if there wasn't a risk of being caught.

Embarrassingly, you felt your stomach coil after only a little while, all this time alone had made it very easy to spiral to bliss. You were about to tell him, but, as if he already knew, his hand went to encourage you closer to your edge. Throwing your head back, you focussed on the feeling of his hand and him inside you, making the top of your head prickle as you felt your orgasm rush over you like cold water. Obi wan was still pounding into you, but his thrusts were shaky, and a moment later he'd pulled out of you and spilled himself over your stomach with a satisfied groan.

The both of you remained there, in a haze, for a while, sharing gentle kisses between each other and cleaning you up. After rummaging in his robes, he pulled a small cloth out from one pocket and cleaned you as gently as he could.

“Were you planning this then?” you said teasingly, nodding at the cloth. Ben just cocked his eyebrow, smirking a little as he continued his meticulous work on you. Once he was done, he moved to place a final kiss on your forehead before helping you stand (your legs still slightly uncertain) and passing you your clothes.

“Chief?” one of your team was just outside the ship, and when he called out you both froze, you only wearing your shirt and Obi Wan still desperately trying to untangle his robes. After a moment you heard the footsteps fade out of the hangar and back into the main building, and you both dared to breathe again. And then the laughter came, from being on the verge of being caught like horny teenagers once more. Moments like this were your favourite, where you were nothing more than two childlike adults.

#obi wan x you #anakin skywalker x reader #obi wan #ben kenobi x you #ben kenobi #star wars #funkwhistle #my fics #idk whaa to tag this

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animemangasoul · 3 years

Text

You Are Wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summery: Qui-Gon lives and Mace gets a new Padawan.

[In which Qui-Gon repudiates Obi-Wan and Mace isn't about to let the kid leave the order without a fight.]

Chapter: 3/10

No one gossiped quite like the Jedi. A miniature change, a Knighting, a death, a Trial gone wrong. All of it spread like wildfire and within a blink of an eye, the words were across the Temple, twisting the realities behind said words and painting the walls with new and highly unlikely truths. Breathing in the swirling masses of twittering gossip was just part of every day life of the Coruscanty Jedi.

Qui-Gon of course knew how much Jedi liked to gossip. Knew very well how vicious rumours could get; even if it was never done out of malice, just too much curiosity and the indulging need to share things. He knew, and yet…..

"I heard Kenobi tried to leave the Order again."

"I heard he touched the darkside."

Qui-Gon came to a stuttering halt. Head tilted just so, chin high and gaze fixed on a far away spot as he tried and failed to tune out the Naboo crises that had for the last couple of weeks become the hot topic of the Temple. Why was the refectory three floors too far from his quarters? Was it always like this or was every step suddenly too heavy, too slow, now that Qui-Gon desperately needed to get away.

"He's lucky the council hasn't kicked him out," filtered through to him. Spoken too loud for him to be able to ignore and….

Something foreign, something cruel crawled it's way up his throat. Each whisper of curiosity making him burn. Burn as if the force itself was being ripped from his soul.

Fingers clenching around each tray, one filled with all assortments of dishes; little Ani was all too wide-eyed and adventures with his need to try all types of food now that he realized it wouldn't be withheld from him, and the other with nothing more than the bare essentials.

They shook; both trays vibrating with the unsteadiness of his hands.

"Master Qui-Gon had to stop him from turning into a Sith. At least that's what people are saying."

"Did you know he isn't even a Padawan anymore?"

"Really? I mean, I know Master Qui-Gon has a new Padawan but I thought they'd Knighted Kenobi. Didn't he kill a Sith?!"

'Yes!--' he wanted to scream. A strangled sort of cry dying in his throat as he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other.

'Ignore them. They don't know. They don't understand. Ignore them,' he told himself. But how could he, when all he wanted to do was scream at them. Frayed edges and all. Scream the bloody and raw truth for the entire Temple to hear.

His boy had killed a Sith. Had defended him. Had protected him. His Obi-Wan was a SithKiller. He was an exceptional Padawan. Brilliant and radiant and so so kind. He wasn't….. He wasn't what they thought. With their soft whispers behind lifted hands and flittering glances.

They didn't know the truth.

They could never fully understand the truth.

What did they know….. What did they know.

"Master Qui-Gon most have seen something wrong with him."

He kept walking. Snippet of unwanted conversation filtering through despite his best effort to ignore them.

"My friend told me no Master want to take him."

"But Padaw--- Kenobi is so nice! Why would he-----"

And on and on it went. Anywhere and everywhere in the Temple. Rumours about Obi-Wan and his supposed disgrace kept circulating like month to flame. Padawans, younglings, even Knights scurrying away the second they noticed him walking by, mouths clamming shut and shame clouding their eyes for letting their fantasy run away with them.

Qui-Gon wanted to snap. Shout at the top of his lungs that none of their ridiculous rumours were true. That they were so far of base they might as well be striding across space. That his boy was good. He was kind and gentle, and the truest of Jedi there was. That he saved his life. That he scared him as Qui-Gon's last fading moments were filled with sheer and utter terror that he'd wake up to a dead Padawan that had given too much of himself to save his dying Master's life.

Obi-Wan was good. So good. So how dared they defame him like this. Slate his name…….

He wanted to set them straight. Wanted it so badly it burned. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

To protect Ani, he couldn't.

Anakin was feeling out of place as it was. Scared and lonely, missing his mom terribly. If people around the Temple realized the truth, that Qui-Gon had let go of his Padawan of ten years to take a kid that was too old….. It would put Ani in a difficult position. And the poor child was already dealing with so much. Missing his mother, learning all these foreign cultural norms, adapting and even worrying about Obi-Wan on top of it all. Qui-Gon couldn't in good consciousness clear up the rumours while also protecting Ani from them.

In the end it was a matter of who needed him more, and right now, that was the Chosen One.

So he clammed his mouth shut, gritted his teeth, pulled the trays closer to his chest and kept walking. Blocking out every curious, hurtful word, and let his emotions fade into the force.

Repudiating Obi-Wan hadn't done his young Padaw-- former Pawadan any good. Especially with the boy's spotty reputation as it was, but Qui-Gon was sure as soon as Obi-Wan got a new Master this would all die down. He just needed to hold on a bit longer. Besides, his former Padawan had been in the Halls these past couple of weeks; and oh, if his heart didn't give a painful tug at the thought, so none of it would have reached him. The Temple gossip wouldn't last much longer.

And maybe when Obi-Wan got a new Master, when the rumours died out, Anakin too wouldn't have to be kept away from the Temple life any longer. Maybe then Qui-Gon wouldn't have to keep little Ani secluded; shielding him from curious eyes and less than flattering opinions of Obi-Wan. Besides few friends the kid had made, Anakin didn't go out much, not even to classes. Qui-Gon having decided it was for the best he homeschooled him for now.

It was for the best.

The gossip wouldn't last forever.

Even if Qui-Gon didn't like it. Even if he wanted to put a stop to it. Even if after killing a Sith and saving his life people were likening Obi-Wan to Xanatos. Even if…….

It was for the best. At least for now.

So Qui-Gon kept walking. Kept his head down and wondered how his boy was doing. How he was healing. If Master Che was taking care of him. If he was smiling or laughing. If he was worried, if he was thinking about him. If, if, if.

"Greeting, Master Jinn."

He didn't startle, but it was close. Qui-Gon blinked slowly, re-entering himself. "Knight Vos," he said pleasantly. "Back from your mission I see?"

Shadows didn't talk about their missions, even newly assigned Shadows like Vos, so Qui-Gon wasn't surprised when the young man's only response to his question was a careless shrug. "Dinner?" he asked instead, nodding at the trays Qui-Gon was balancing in his hands, one eyebrow arched.

"Yes. Ani is just about done with his homework so I offered to grab us a bite."

Something crackled around them, the force nearly suffocating with emotions Qui-Gon couldn't quite decipher before it vanished just as quick. Vos, for it most have been Vos, clamming down on his emotions as fast as he had let them slip. The Kiffar's shoulders were tense, a tiny grove appearing between his eyebrows darkening his expression. Suddenly Qui-Gon felt as if whatever little regard the Shadow might have had of him, had evaporated.

It felt like he'd failed a test he hadn't even been aware of taking.

"Is that so? How nice." The last word was practically spat at him. "Good to see that you have moved on from the Naboo incident. Content with your new perfect life are you now, Master Jinn?" If looks alone could kill.

Qui-Gon frowned. "We are all making due with the hand we were dealt, Knight Vos. But I can assure you Naboo haunts us all. However as Jedi, we cannot let our emotions get the best of us."

Quinlan stiffened. "Have you even gone to see him? Do you even--" Clenching his fists, Vos's glare was almost too much. "He isn't dead you know. There's no need to act like he is."

And that. No. That was one step too far.

"Knight--" he hissed, trays perfectly still even as his heart shook and his breath hitched. "Know your place."

"My apologies," Quinlan muttered, eyes flashing as he bowed, deep enough to be respectful, shallow enough to put his point across. "I did not mean to overstep."

Giving him a stiff nod in return, Qui-Gon tried not to think of his own hurt, his own anger, of Obi-Wan. "See that you don't."

The Kiffar nodded back, sidestepping to walk past him. Air too tense to continue any meaningful conversation. Qui-Gon listened as the newly Knighted Jedi's presence drew further and further away from him, but just as he was about to make his way back to his quarters; the clawing desperation scrapping against his throat boxed away for another day, Vos spoke up again. His voice distant, but in these empty halls, all the more potent.

"Some Padawan's thrive because of their Master's guidance," came his words, cutting across the distance between them as if he was right next to him, whispering into his ear. "Others thrive despite of it. I pray for Skywalker's sake he follows Obi-Wan's path of the latter."

And, oh….. That was….. That hit harder than Qui-Gon expected it to.

It's as if Vos was suffocating him. As if he'd reached across the hall and squeezed his heart in an unrelenting grip of death.

Years of mastering his emotions is all that prevents Qui-Gon from stumbling back. Quinlan without realizing it having dug up a pain so profound it's scars were still screaming with agony under the shell that was Qui-Gon Jinn. Feemor, Xanatos, now Obi-Wan. He doesn't even notice Quinlan's footsteps fading away, no. All he can focus on is his shortened breath, his pounding heart and the shake. He's shaking. Because……… he'd somehow managed to fail Obi-Wan like he'd failed everyone else and……

He can't breathe.

He can't.

And it's only what feels like hours later that he comes to. Curled at the farthest corner of force knows where. Food nowhere in sight, knees pulled against his chest as he tries to just breathe.

Quinlan Vos's words shouldn't have gotten to him but they had and Qui-Gon hated himself for it. Because….. Because, what did Vos know. What did he know about his struggles. What did he know about the sacrifices Qui-Gon had made. This was the Will of The Force. Why did no one understand that! This wasn't about him or Obi-Wan. This wasn't about the council or hurt feelings. This was about the Chosen One and how he needed training. The force had willed it so, so why was everyone trying to stop him?!

He hadn't failed Obi-Wan.

He hadn't.

Not really.

Obi-Wan was the man he was today because Qui-Gon had done right by him even as he was still recovering from Xanatos. Even with all the scars Xanatos had carved into his heart, he'd let Obi-Wan in, raised that boy like he was his own. And Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan had repaid his devotion by being the light in his otherwise darkened soul. Obi-Wan had saved him. Loved him, respected him and…..

Did they honestly think he would abandon his boy if the force wasn't guiding him?

This wasn't his fault. This was the council's fault. They had forced his hand. Made him choose. If they'd only Knighted Obi-Wan like they were supposed to none of this would have happened. They had changed and twisted tradition before, so why not now?

Qui-Gon knew why.

It was to spite him. They didn't like that he wasn't bending to their every whim and they took it out on his Padawan.

This wasn't his fault. It was the council and their incessant need to punish him for not being a puppet like everyone else.

Now Obi-Wan was Masterless and Qui-Gon couldn't fix it. Couldn't take back what was done. 'And you wouldn't,' his consciousness whispered traitorously. 'Training the Chosen One is more important. Obi-Wan isn't more important than bringing balance to the force.'

And Qui-Gon knew he wasn't and that's why he'd let him go.

It was for the best.

------------------------

"If you really wanna visit Mr. Obi-Wan, you should!" Anakin chirped, stuffing his face with another spoon full of stew; having finally let go of being cross with Qui-Gon for the late dinner. The old Master having gone back to the refectory; after his unexpected breakdown to get them two new plates of food while still not quite knowing what happened to the previous ones.

"Is that so," he muttered, slowly sipping at his tea. "And don't talk with food in your mouth, Ani."

"Sowwy."

Qui-Gon glared and Anakin flushed. Chewing and swallowing quickly, the kid muttered a soft apology under his breath making Qui-Gon smile in satisfaction. "It's ok. Just don't forget it next time."

Nodding and looking a little less enthusiastic now, Anakin fidgeted in his seat. "So are you?"

"Am I what?" He knew he was being difficult and by the tiny frown on Ani's face, the kid knew it too.

"Visit Mr. Obi-Wan," Anakin huffed, crossing his arms. "He's awake you know and he's super good at talking without falling asleep in the middle of it now, and he has all this candy and gifts that he shared with me and maybe he'll share it with you too and he's really nice and he misses you and why don't you go visit?!" The last words were practically shouted at him. Anakin having stood up in the middle of his rant to slam his hands on the table.

"I can't," Qui-Gon said, voice sharp even as he tried to temper down his emotions. "Master Che won't let me."

The surprised little "Oh," Anakin let out, eyes wide and mouth slightly gaped open in disbelief made a flush of jealousy course through Qui-Gon's veins. Because-- "But she lets me visit all the time!"

How was that fair?

The fact that Ani could visit his boy when he was denied. The fact that Vokara didn't think the kid that upended Obi-Wan's life would give him stress but he, Obi-Wan's Master. The man who raised him through his adolescent, somehow would. How everyone from his friends to the council members to even Anakin could visit his Padawan, but all Qui-Gon could do was brush his mind against his son and drink in his presence from afar.

How was any of that fair?

It burned. It curled around his throat and burned. Anakin had just arrived. He hadn't even been here for a full cycle and yet he knew the state Obi-Wan was in better than him. Could eat his breakfast, finish his school work and bounce of to the Halls to go see the one person Qui-Gon wanted to see above all else.

Oh it burned.

Anakin didn't know what he'd taken from him. What the Will of The Force had taken from him….

And just as soon as the jealousy flared up, it died down. Overwhelmed by a sense of shame and embarrassment that Qui-Gon had even let himself entertain such destructive and baseless emotions. This had nothing to do with Anakin. The kid hadn't made his choices for him. Ani was innocent in all of this. How could he even blame him?

"Maybe…. Maybe you can ask again? I'm sure Master Che will let you see him if you ask super nicely?" The lilt of uncertainty in Anakin's side of their bond, pulled the Master back out of his own head. Eyes landing on the small boy sitting across from him; dinner long since abandoned and if that didn't make Qui-Gon feel even worse. Anakin ate with vigor because he still couldn't comprehend that the food would still be there afterwards, and now Qui-Gon had worried him enough to abandon it in hopes of appeasing him.

Sighing deeply, Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm sure she will Ani." Smiling gently at the poor boy, he was rewarded with a wobbly one in return. "Let's finish eating shall we?" Lifting his fork he clinked it playfully against Anakin's own, which made the kid's uncertain smile bloom into something more real, and that was enough for now. If this was all Qui-Gon could do at the moment, make a little boy smile, that was enough for him.

Especially since he knew deep down; despite the irrational feelings that suffocated him sometimes, that none of this was Anakin's fault. This was all new and scary to the kid as well. He didn't need Qui-Gon's issues on top of his own.

Besides, he mused tiredly, taking a bite out of the Tufkus cake Obi-Wan loved so much. This was his own cowardly fault in the first place.

He was the one who'd broken Obi-Wan's trust. He had been the one to run out of the kid's hospital room after unbraiding his hair because he was too afraid to look him in the eye and tell him what he'd done. Selfishly he'd still wanted Obi-Wan to look at him as if he'd hung the moon, so he couldn't, he wouldn't…….

It had been so much easier to do it while his boy was unconscious. To run his fingers through his hair one last time, file away every little detail of his peaceful face to memory. To never forget. To never let go. Even as his fingers fumbled to untie the braid. The moments, the days, the history.

It had been so incredibly hard.

Putting it all away. Cutting their bond.

And now there was a brown wooden box under his bed were familiar beads and bands once tied to Obi-Wan's bbraid, lay collecting dust.

Yes, it had been…. Hard. But duty rose above all else, and Qui-Gon knew with time, Obi-Wan would come to accept it too.

Still, not all hope was lost. Because no matter how many times Master Yoda had told him to stay out of it, Qui-Gon was going to fix this. He had a last ditch plan if all else failed. There was no way, force wills it, he was going to let his kid be sent away again. Not under his watch.

He'd been keeping an eye on Mace and Yoda's efforts and it was safe to say it wasn't going well. Which wasn't a surprise seeing as Obi-Wan's records were well, not exactly perfect. Leaving the Order left a stain on someone's legacy and while Qui-Gon had already forgiven him for that transgression, not many would be able to do the same.

No, it was definitely not going well. Master Yoda all but admitting it to him when he'd checked in with him for the fifteenth time; Mace unwilling to look at him let alone talk to him after that fated council meeting.

"Looking we are. Little success we are being met with. Have heart you most. Abandon Obi-Wan we will not."

'Unlike you,' had floated between them, unsaid.

But it was Yoda's parting words that had stayed with Qui-Gon. Lingering in his head, days after the wise old Jedi had looked at him with such sadness and regret.

"Hurting, you are. But band-aid to your pain Obi-Wan is not. Band-aid to your pain Obi-Wan should have never been. My mistake it was, assigning him to you."

My mistake. Assigning him to you.

Mistake. Assigning him. Assigning Obi-Wan, to him.

Yoda regretted creating their partnership and Qui-Gon didn't know how to process the absolute devastation and anger that ignited within him.

There was nothing wrong with his partnership with Obi-Wan. Sure they'd had their ups and downs, but the good times far outweighed the bad and for Yoda to say something like that, to hold such conviction in his voice as he said it……

No. Neither Master Yoda or Master Windu knew what was best for Obi-Wan. They wouldn't find him a Master to take him in. They wouldn't succeed, and in the end, his boy would once again end up on a train taking him far away from home.

Qui-Gon would be damned if he let that happen.

In fact, he had the perfect plan to prevent it all and keep his Padawans with him.

"Master Qui-Gon sir?"

"Yes?" he said, momentarily putting a pause on his running thoughts. "You finished your dinner, Ani?"

Nodding eagerly, Anakin pushed his empty plates away and jumped off the chair. "Can I go now?"

Shaking his head a fond smile playing at the corner of his lips, Qui-Gon stood up too, collecting their plates. "Have you finished your reading?"

Anakin moved restlessly. "I wanted to do it tomorrow? But-" he said, giving him a pleading look. "I did all of my other work. I promise! Can I please go?"

Frowning thoughtfully, Qui-Gon made his way into the kitchen, well aware of the hasting footsteps hurrying after him. "Why leave it for tomorrow?"

"Um," looking over his shoulders he watched as Ani twiddled his thumbs.

"Um, what?"

"Well," the kid smiled, uncertainty practically flooding the force. "Obi-Wan said he'd help me with the reading and it's really late right now and Master Che said I couldn't visit when it's late so I can't go and ask him for help. So….. Tomorrow?"

Something lodged itself in Qui-Gon's throat and for a second, it was almost too hard to breathe again. "That's…. Nice," he managed to force out. Not daring to look at the little boy who practically gave him everything while taking away all that mattered to him. "Where are you planning to go?"

"Aayla said she'd show me the hangers and I promised to meet here after dinner! Please?"

Aayla Secura. Quinlan Vos's Padawan. Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon released his bitterness into the force. Apparently nothing was going his way today.

"So can I go?"

He sighed. "Yes. But--" he called out as Anakin let out a little yeep and darted to the door. "Be home at a reasonable hour this time."

"I will!"

Qui-Gon scoffed. He doubted it.

But Anakin was very independent, not like Obi-Wan. And he didn't want to hamper that independency, especially since the kid was destined to save the world. And with the kid having to stay home and study alone for majority of the day, Qui-Gon didn't think refusing him his nightly outings was fair. So he wished the Chosen One goodbye and settled down for an hour of meditation.

He felt far too restless for mediation these days, but it was only through centering himself that he found that he could get close to Obi-Wan's force signature. And loathe as he was to admit this level of attachment, he did not feel ashamed enough to stop. Being near his boy. To quietly hover around that bright, warm presence. It eased something deep and painful within Qui-Gon.

And it strengthened his determination to carry out his plan all the more.

Dooku, he thought, kneeling. Eyes closed and mind wandering despite his almost desperate need to find that serenity so he could seek out Obi-Wan's presence within the force. Master Yan would arrive back at the Coruscant within a week, and as soon as he got back, Qui-Gon would corner him and somehow convince him to finish Obi-Wan's training.

He didn't get along with his former Master and frankly Qui-Gon was all too willing to carry on with their current norm of never speaking to each other outside of polite greetings, but right now, Dooku was his only option. The right option. After all, Master Yan had shown keen interest in Obi-Wan's education in the child's earlier years; thankfully Qui-Gon had managed to keep his Master away from his very impressionable student, but now he might be his very last triumph card. And Obi-Wan was twenty-three now, he wouldn't be so easily corruptible by Master Yan's distinct interest in Sith history. Besides, Qui-Gon knew how distant the older man was. He could probably convince him to take Obi-Wan as a Padawan and then leave him here, with him. That way Qui-Gon could keep both his Padawans, train them and no one would be sent away.

It was the perfect plan. The perfect idea. And with his former Master being much kinder now that Qui-Gon had barely escaped with his life against a Sith, he was sure it would all work out like it should.

He was sure of it.

Letting himself sink even deeper into the force, he filtered out all the pulsating force signatures around him. Drowning them all out as he sought out the one candle light that was as familiar to him as his own and there. He smiled.

Obi-Wan.

Warm like a crackling campfire in the middle of freezing winter. Comforting like a hug given by a tiny thirteen year old who'd seen too much of the world far too quickly and yet managed to retain his innocence.

His Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon wasn't going to let him down again. Not this time.

Slowly drawing himself back away from his boy, he breathed in and opened his eyes. The loss of the blazing presence that was his former Padawan making his chest ache, but he knew he couldn't linger, less the kid noticed him.

It didn't matter either way. Because it was only matter of time before he would be reunited with him.

Standing up, he brushed imaginary dust of his robes; faintly hearing the echoes of Obi-Wan's laughter at his old man habit.

Today was the day the auburn haired youth would leave the Halls. It should have been yesterday, but according to one of the Padawan's in rotation that he'd coaxed the information out of, a small complication had delayed Obi-Wan's release.

Since no Master had claimed him yet, Obi-Wan Kenobi would be assigned to the Initiate dorms again, and Qui-Gon was not willing to let that happen.

He would go pick him up and surprise him with the good news that he could stay with them. Him and little Ani until they found him a Master; Yan Dooku if Qui-Gon had anything to say about it. And he was sure his boy would be so relieved to know that Qui-Gon still had his back. Maybe that could be their first step in mending what had been broken? Especially since Anakin and he seemed to already get along splendidly.

Of course it might be mildly embarrassing for Obi-Wan for a bit; sharing quarters with the boy who'd replaced him, but he would settle down eventually. Qui-Gon was sure of it. His boy was nothing if not adaptable. And after he heard the effort Qui-Gon had put into keeping them together, he would forgive him. He had to.

If he didn't, Qui-Gon wasn't quite sure what he would do with himself.

Making his way through the living room; ready to grab his boots to go, he stumbled over a box by the sofa and nearly fell. His quick reflexes the only thing keeping him standing.

Frowning down at the scattered boxes of Obi-Wan's things that he'd packed away weeks ago, so Anakin could have more space for his own stuff, Qui-Gon sighed. They'd have to find somewhere new to place them. Maybe Obi-Wan could take his room, since Ani had already moved into the older boy's? And Qui-Gon could take the sofa, just for now. Just until he applied for bigger quarters. Nodding to himself resolutely, he sidestepped the rest. But just as he arrived at the door, there was a knock. Followed by three more rapid bangs.

"Hold on," he called out, reaching for the panel and as the door slide open he came face to face with Muln. Garen Muln. Another of Obi-Wan's delightful friends. And by the sour look on the kid's face, just as delightfully furious with him.

"Knight Muln," he greeted softly followed by a bow.

Garen grinned, all teeth and stormy eyes. "Master Qui-Gon," he said cheerfully, bowing back. "I'm here to pick up Obi's things."

Qui-Gon stiffened, folding his hands under the sleeves of his robe. "Ah, he's being released today," he said. Neither making it a question nor a statement.

The shaggy haired man nodded enthusiastically, his force presence practically swallowing them both up with a sense of coldness that sent chills down Qui-Gon's spine.

"Yeah," he answered, jaw twitching. "He's finally leaving the Halls and I was sent to get his things." Nodding his head at the boxes strewn around the floor behind him. "So if you could just get them for me--" clapping his hands, Muln smiled; his eyes were cold. "That would be wonderful."

Clearing his throat, Qui-Gon gave the clearly resentful Knight a tight smile. "There is no need to take Obi-Wan's things--" He ignored how Muln flinched as the name left his mouth. "To the Initiate dorms. They can stay here until he gets a Master."

Now. Now Muln's eyes were sparkling. There was a sense of vicious glee swirling around them in the force and it made Qui-Gon tense. What was going on?

"Oh you don't understand," Garen smiled back at him and this time, his smile did reach his eyes. But it looked foreign on the face of the otherwise furious man. "I'm not here to take Obi's things to the Initiate dorms." Here he paused, his force signature practically dancing. "He already has a Master and said Master asked me to bring his things. So you see--" a giant grin. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with."

"What?"

"You heard me. Master Jinn." The last two words were dragged out, Garen's lips widening even further into an almost sadistic smile. "His Master sent me to get his things."

But Qui-Gon couldn't quite comprehend it. He couldn't……

A Master? Already?

When, how, why?

"Who?" Was what came out. The burning question that mattered the most…… who?

Garen Muln slid in past him and chuckled. "Believe it or not," he said, voice practically a giggle and tone conversational. He was enjoying this. "Master Windu."

Wi…..

"Mace?"

Qui-Gon could barely keep a lid on his shock. Because…. Mace? Why would he take Obi-Wan.

'Why would he take Obi-Wan away from me?'

The young Knight shrugged. "Yeah. He asked him yesterday and Obi agreed." Lifting his hands he concentrated and before long all the boxes were floating; Qui-Gon couldn't even muster the necessary disapproval to scold him for the improper use of the force.

"Obi-Wan….. Agreed?"

Floating the last mementos of his Padawan past him, Muln smirked. "Yup. The Master of the Order. Isn't that crazy."

It……

Mace…… Mace had taken his Padawan.

But it wasn't supposed to be Mace. It was supposed to be Yan.

Yan Dooku was supposed to take on Obi-Wan and then give him back. So they could all stay together. Here. Like they were supposed to. Not….. Not Mace.

"Now Obi doesn't have to leave, you get to keep your prized Chosen One, Master Jinn. And all will be sunshine and rainbows." Practically skipping out the door, Garen Muln gave him a wink. "All as the force wills it, right?" And with that he was gone. Leaving Qui-Gon in a stupor he couldn't shake. Not even hours later when Anakin snuck his way in, letting out a yelp when he found his Master sitting listless by the door. The poor kid nearly stumbling over him.

"Master, what's wrong!"

'Nothing,' he wanted to say. 'Obi-Wan found himself a Master. Isn't that great!'

But he couldn't. The thought alone made him want to rip his hair out. Because deep down he'd assumed there would be no capable Masters willing to take Obi-Wan, not with his spotty record. And those who might have been willing to see past it, would have already had Padawans or were far too young to train a Padawan as old as Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon had; loathe as he was to admit it, almost counted on it. Subconsciously relieved each and every time he'd heard of another rejection. Even as he felt great sadness for his former Padawan. But he'd known Master Dooku was coming. His Master was coming back to fix everything, help him restore what had been broken. Qui-Gon had been so close to getting his family back. And now it was gone. It was all gone, thanks to Mace Windu.

Mace had stolen his Padawan from him.

"Master, Master! What's wrong?!"

Nothing, nothing at all.

The End

Never have I ever found a character as hard to write as Qui-Gon Jinn. I literally ended up putting on robes, letting my hair down and pretending to be him for a full 24 hours to get his stupid character down. Hopefully he came out ok. I didn't want to make him a 100% bad person but I also knew he wasn't a great person either, so he had to land somewhere in the middle. In character, yet an asshole. So in the end, I have summarized Qui-Gon like this [Everything is about him. Even though he loves Obi-Wan it's about Qui-Gon. His pain, what he needs, his jealousy, trying to keep both Padawan instead of finding any other solution blah blah blah].

He isn't a bad person. He's just a really shitty Mentor. Like imagine telling Obi-Wan he will stay with them, while being an absent mentor's padawan just so Qui-Gon can continue playing at being a dad...... this man needs serious help. And I actually feel kind of bad for him because he does love Obi-Wan. He's just not good at anything else besides that first step. (Sorta reminds me of Bruce Wayne actually lol)--- sorry for the super late update guys! Please enjoy!!!

Qui-Gon: You can stay with us!

Obi-Wan [......]: You gave my room away. You disowned me and you never even looked me in the eye when you did it.

Qui-Gon: Semantics.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfic #qui gon jinn #qui gon a+ parenting #quinlan vos #garen vos #anakin skywalker #mace windu #fanfic #fanfiction #ch 3 #star wars fanfiction #you are wanted obi-wan kenobi

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kazmirone · 3 years

Text

obikin rough draft fic excerpt (abo)

Here, have some tattooed omega!Obi-Wan. Someday I will fill it out and complete it. Maybe, lol.

Oh, and in case you didn’t catch it in the post title, this is A/B/O. There’s nothing explicit in this excerpt, though.

It's not that Anakin's looking, alright.

But when Obi-Wan strips off his under-tunic after their lengthy sparring session, Anakin's attention is possibly a little bit more drawn to the movement than it should be.

And it’s why he spots the mark on Obi-Wan’s flushed skin. The mark is palm-sized, a murky whorl of sooty, ashen color blossoming across his ribs too nicely to be a bruise.

"I didn’t know you had tattoos,” Anakin says, gesturing to the blooming color there.

Obi-Wan follows his hand movement and lifts up his arm to look at the space below it. “I - don’t.”

"Is it contagious?" Ahsoka asks, once Obi-Wan's returned from the Halls of Healing. "Because Rex said you can catch a fungus if you don't wear shoes in the showers."

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says.

“No, young one. I don’t think it’s contagious,” Obi-Wan patiently answers.

“Is it because you’re an omega?” Ahsoka asks.

“Ahsoka!” Anakin hisses.

“I shouldn’t think so,” Obi-Wan says, bemused, then draws a small datapad from his robes. “At any rate, Healer Che asked me to monitor the condition with daily stills.”

Anakin frowns, and he’s fixed on the tablet in Obi-Wan’s hand when the terrible, horrible offer just spills right out of his terrible, horrible mouth, “I could help you. Take the stills, I mean. It’s in a weird spot, so it might be hard to get the angle right.”

Obi-Wan stares at him, and Ahsoka does, too, and this is how it starts.

Day 1

“No changes,” Anakin says.

Obi-Wan snorts, tugging his tunic back into place and taking the datapad from Anakin’s hands. “It’s been less than a day since the onset.”

He follows Obi-Wan out of the ‘fresher and into the small living space. It’s a lot neater these days, now that Anakin’s moved out and taken his mess with him. His scent, too.

Now, Obi-Wan’s scent permeates every inch of the place, fresh and clean and undeniably omega. Something in him – a little ugly, a little primal – is urging him to leave his mark, run his hands over every surface and claim this place as his own, again.

He doesn’t, of course. Obi-Wan would pitch a fit. But if Anakin maybe smooths the tips of his fingers down the front door as he leaves, well, what’s the harm in that.

Day 4

Obi-Wan frowns. “Does it look darker to you?”

Anakin leans over his shoulder and peers down at the datapad in Obi-Wan’s hands, where a procession of images is pulled up on its screen. He shrugs. “Not really?”

Day 9

“I’m not sure how to say this--” Anakin starts, watching from the door as Obi-Wan fold ups his tunic and sets it near the sink.

“Then you should just say it,” Obi-Wan says.

“--I think it’s spreading,” Anakin finishes.

Obi-Wan stills, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Are you quite sure?”

Anakin brushes his elbow, directing him, and Obi-Wan lifts up his arm to a horizontal plane. The position, they’ve found, least distorts the shape of the mark. He regards it, the dark smudge on Obi-Wan’s pale, muscled flesh.

Before, he could have covered it up entirely with his palm. Anakin holds his hand over the mark, not touching but close enough to feel whisper soft vellus hair when Obi-Wan pulls in a particularly deep breath.

Now, the cloud of black and gray has extended well past his fingertips, blossoming across the side of Obi-Wan’s ribcage, creeping towards the front of his body.

“Well?” Obi-Wan asks, above him.

Anakin straightens up. “It’s definitely spread.”

“And your method of measurement was what, your hand?” Obi-Wan asks, mildly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Anakin shoots back. “Did you have a ruler laying around?”

Day 13

“You look terrible,” he says, breezing into Obi-Wan’s quarters.

Obi-Wan sighs, close behind him, and Anakin can feel the heat of it brush the back of his neck.

Day 14

“Oh,” Anakin says, when the door opens.

The scent of oncoming heat is unmistakable, and it’s overpowering, and it hits him with enough force to send him shuffling back a step.

If Obi-Wan had looked terrible yesterday, he looks even worse today. There are deep shadows under his eyes, his hair limp across his brow, and his clothes are damp with sweat.

“It’s best we didn’t today,” Obi-Wan says, finally.

“Right,” Anakin says, voice rough like it’s been dragged over gravel. “Is - can I get you anything before I go?”

Obi-Wan smiles tightly. “No, thank you, Anakin. I will see you in a few days.”

Anakin doesn’t even get the chance to say goodbye before the door is sliding shut in his face. It sends a billowing waft of something that feels like, well, like untouched, unmated, unprotected, into the hallway, and Anakin holds his breath while he walks away.

Day 15

Obi-Wan will be livid if he finds out, Anakin thinks, as he slips the glove off his right hand and steps up to the door, sometime in the dark, early hours of the morning.

He runs both hands – organic and prosthetic – over every surface of the door’s control panel. The transparisteel display screen, the durasteel plating, the rubber-padded plastoid buttons, even the sharp edges where the box itself is bracketed to the wall.

After he’s satisfied with the way his scent has shrouded the doorway, he pulls his glove back on and leaves.

Day 21

“Master Obi-Wan is here!”

Anakin rolls his shoulders to ease the achiness there. He’s been hunched over his mechnoarm for the last hour, at least, trying to reconnect a fragile strand of loose wiring.

“Having trouble?” Obi-Wan asks.

He glances up from the needle-nose pliers lodged in his wrist. Obi-Wan looks better, well-rested, he supposes, and a lot less…sweaty. “It’s fine,” he says. “Just give me a minute, then we can go do the thing.”

Obi-Wan takes the seat across from him, brow raised. “The thing?”

“The picture thing,” Anakin tacks on.

“About that,” Obi-Wan says. “I think we ought to do the thing, as you say, here, for the time being. My quarters – well –”

“Your quarters, what?” Anakin asks. “Smell bad?”

“Yes, Anakin, my quarters smell bad.”

“I guarantee they don’t smell as bad as you think they do,” Anakin says, just to push him, just a bit.

Day 28

Obi-Wan touches little in their quarters and never stays long enough to leave much of a trace, but it must leave something. Ahsoka’s nose crinkles every time she walks through the door.

Day 32

“Well,” Anakin says, powering down the datapad and setting it on the cluttered sink. “I took five stills this time. To get everything.”

Obi-Wan exhales. He moves away from Anakin, then, and reaches for his tunic. The movement twists and pulls at the grayscale whorls spiraling out over his side, down his abdomen, and his entire left pectoral.

Faint, fine lines and the lightest shading spill out across his skin around the edges of the marking, but it’ll be swallowed up by darker color soon enough, if this thing keeps up, keeps spreading.

As it stands, it’s a hair’s breadth away from the cleft of his spine, and Anakin watches the muscled flex of his back as Obi-Wan slides his tunic back over his head.

Anakin’s known from the start that Obi-Wan sends off the holostills to Master Che every day-cycle. What she does with them – or doesn’t do with them, since it’s not like she’s figured it out yet – really isn’t Anakin’s business.

So he is well aware he’s not the only one to see the monochrome tendrils creeping across Obi-Wan’s skin. And, he realizes in a numb but sudden sort of way, it bothers him utterly that there are others who do.

The feeling makes itself known when Anakin happens across Che and Jocasta Nu and Nu’s padawan in the library later that afternoon, grouped around a computer terminal, studying his still of Obi-Wan’s body.

“Exquisite,” Nu says, and her gnarled finger raises up to trace across the screen one of the swooping lines on Obi-Wan’s right oblique. “Simply exquisite. I have never seen anything like it.”

Che sighs. “Nor have I. That is the problem.”

“I shall begin my research straight away, Vokara,” Nu says, resolved. “You will keep me apprised of any changes to Master Kenobi’s condition?”

“Of course. Thank you, Master Nu.”

The old librarian turns to her padawan, then. “And what do you make of this, boy?”

The boy shrugs, edging closer to the screen. “No clue. It’s pretty, though.”

Hidden away in the shadows of a towering bookstack, Anakin bites hard into the spongy flesh of his cheek, prosthetic knuckles whirring from the strain of his tightening fist.

Day 35

It’s been two weeks since Obi-Wan’s heat ended, more than enough time for the scent of it to air out and fade away. Still, Anakin leaves Obi-Wan’s quarters with the urge to claw out of his own skin.

Day 40

“Knight Skywalker.”

“Master Che,” he replies, scowling at her retreating back as the healer glides down the hall and out of sight.

“There’s been a development,” Obi-Wan says.

Anakin meets Obi-Wan’s flinty blue gaze. “I’m guessing it’s not a good one, then.”

Day 42

The markings on Obi-Wan’s legs are even more remarkable the third day he sees them.

A couple days ago, the lines had been faint, like the lightest press of graphite on a piece of flimsi. The markings had barely shown up in the stills he’d taken, and he’d had to mess with the datapad settings before Obi-Wan had sent them off to Master Che.

Today, though.

Today, the lines are the deepest shade of black, heavy and wide. They curve in on one another, then cleave apart, and splinter off into webs of thinner, still defined lines. From the curl of Obi-Wan’s toes to the knobby bones of his ankles and kneecaps, all the way up to the mid-center of his thighs, he is covered.

It’s so unlike the chaotic, celestial explosions swallowing up the surfaces of his torso and back. There’s a pattern here in these new markings, maze-like in their design. They’re mirror images, or pretty damn close, on Obi-Wan’s right and left legs.

“And this all appeared overnight?” Anakin asks, a little breathless.

“Essentially,” Obi-Wan says, eventually. “Are we finished?”

Obi-Wan shifts where he’s prone on the couch, and the hard muscles in his calves flutter and bulge, just a fraction of a second, really, but Anakin notices, crouched at Obi-Wan’s side and entirely too close.

Anakin’s brain stutters for a moment. “What?”

“The pictures, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “Are we done?”

“Oh.” Anakin looks down at the glowing datapad, lax in his grip.

#obikin #my fic #tw: a/b/o #wip excerpt

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

Note

I heard you were doing some... whump drabbles? perhaps ✈: reaching out for someone or ✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention?? 👀

To say Ahsoka’s apprenticeship started unconventionally would be an understatement.

From the confusion with her master not even knowing he was her master to her immediate adventures on Teth and Tatooine, it had started off as uncertainly as any padawan’s. She’d listened to her creche-mates share stories of their masters choosing them after their trials, ceremonially offering an apprenticeship.

Anakin’s first real sentiment to her had been “there must be some mistake” before he’d tried to pawn her off on Obi-Wan. Although, looking back with a fond smile, she couldn’t say that would have been the worst thing in the world.

When she and Anakin had finally made it back to the temple and sat down to develop a real training regime, it felt...awkward. They’d already been in several life-and-death situations, not to mention been key players in establishing a game-changing diplomatic relationship with the Hutts.

Now they were supposed to create a meditation schedule? And go over basic lightsaber form?

A training bond doesn’t establish itself, Obi-Wan had reminded them with an amused smile.

Fuck off, old man, Anakin had replied.

So they’d tried. The first day or two of regular training at the temple was uncomfortable at best, miserable at worst, but after a few days, they were surprised to find how...easy it was. Ahsoka filled the small gaps in Anakin’s shields and he provided the bulky foundation she lacked on her own. Every weakness she’d ever been notified of by her teachers as a youngling was naturally corrected when she was at Anakin’s side.

She’d never say it out loud because he couldn’t handle the ego boost, but Ahsoka quickly found that she was the absolute best version of herself when she was with him.

They’d found an easy pattern, the two of them, and soon the audience in the observation room of their sparring sessions grew beyond just proud, old Obi-Wan. Masters and padawans alike came to watch, laugh, and take notes from the intensity and fluidness with which Anakin Skywalker and his new apprentice fought.

One time, Ahsoka even spotted Master Yoda.

She’d put all of her effort into flattening Anakin on his back, then, of course.

What had started as constant form modifications turned into form creation. Anakin didn’t just fight, he constructed. Out of the routine assaults and jagged deflections, the Jedi choreographed a sort of dance that only he was privy to.

Sure, Obi-Wan knew most of the moves. They’d mostly been inspired by him anyway. A padawan could only teach so much to his master, though.

So it was Ahsoka who received the bulk of this choreography, constantly watching and doing and watching some more. Trying to memorise the ebb, the flow, the rhythm of it all. And pretty soon–his dances weren’t solo at all.

He wasn’t just showing her what he had made for himself. He was creating for them–and she was helping! They worked in tandem, moving, fighting, and breathing as a single unit. Ahsoka would marvel at it as she left the training room or battlefield, breathless yet not ready to quit.

It didn’t take long before they had signature things that were theirs. Like breakfast in the garden when they were at the temple on leave and impersonating Rex every time he was yelling at shinies and their Move.

Back to back, his right heel nearly stepping on the back of her left. Opposite shoulders pushed against each other, supporting and spurring on. Their Force bond compensated for most of their movement, but before they were encircled by droids or cornered by bounty hunters or whatever situation they found themselves in, Ahsoka would always, always reach behind her. Just the tiniest bit–to touch Anakin’s waist.

It didn’t accomplish anything beyond giving her a tiny bit of comfort. A simple touch of reassurance that yes, he was there and so it would be okay, no matter what the next few moments of combat would entail.

She was jolted back to the present as another punch flew toward her jaw.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” she snorted as she easily ducked. The Trandoshan’s movements were clumsy. Ahsoka could take this lump with her hands tied.

Which was good, considering they...were.

“This would be a fairer fight if you’d let me get a few swings in, you know,” she grumbled, pulling at the restraints again. “Maybe you could learn a few things?”

The Trandoshan growled in response. Ahsoka wrinkled her nose at his horrific breath. She was tired of this–tired of pretending like this guy offered any real challenge and tired of playing with her food.

She reached out, her arm instinctually moving behind her, feeling for Anakin’s waist, the way she had so many times before.

Her hand fell back to her side, passing through the air behind her.

Ahsoka faltered, her memory lapsing for the briefest of moments–where was he? Was he okay? Did she lose him in the mania of this pathetic excuse for a fight?

Harder than any blow the Trandoshan could get on Ahsoka, the reminder of her reality crushed down upon her, throwing her off-focus just enough for her opponent to move in. She deflected, easily enough, side-stepping another punch and surprising the Trandoshan. He hadn’t expected her to move so quick. She took advantage of his confusion and moved to a better position, kicking him from behind and watching him fall to the ground with no true satisfaction.

If Anakin were here, he’d roll his eyes at the groaning Trandoshan in a heap on the ground and say something witty like, “you should lose a few pounds, buddy.” Then he’d throw a smirk at Ahsoka, shrug his shoulders, and say, “Hungry, Snips?” and they’d go grab a burger.

But Anakin wasn’t here. He hadn’t been in a very, very long time.

Not since–everything. The clones, the purge, the darkness. Anakin was gone. Obi-Wan was gone. Master Plo, Jesse, Kix, Cody, Luminara, Yoda, Mace–

Everyone. Gone.

And Ahsoka couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been met with anything but empty air when she’d reached out.

#my fic #whump prompts #snips & skyguy #reaching out for someone #these are fun!!!!!#and hey this one is less than 1k!!!!#progress!!#star wars fanfic #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

If you’re still taking prompts would you consider 11 and 31 for Obikin? No pressure tho, only if you feel like it!!

yes!! of course!!! bit sad/bit angsty ahead (full warning)

11. Soulmates AU + “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It's the strangest thing, knowing what he has to do and knowing at the same time that perhaps he will not be able to do it.

The feeling itself is not strange, not to Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not when he's been given so many burdens, tasks, missions, directives throughout his life that he struggled to accomplish.

Temper his anger and emotions to be chosen as a Padawan.

Three years after that, have his first vision of his soulmate. A baby, squawling in the dirt. Ignore it. Ignore them. Jedi do not seek out their soulmates.

Ignore him, the boy, his soulmate, everytime the bond between their souls connects and one appears at the other's side. Tell no one.

Defeat the Sith, clutch his dying master into his arms. Tell no one he'd met his soulmate, not even then. Not even when Qui-Gon begs him to train the boy. Train his own soulmate.

Beg the Council. Train the Chosen One.

Impress upon Anakin the importance--the absolute necessity--that no one knows they're soulmates. Yes, it's unfair. Yes, he's sorry. Yes, he understands that Anakin never would have stayed after Qui-Gon died if it weren't for the fact that Obi-Wan was the other half of his soul. Yes, he understands what Anakin's given up, does Anakin want to know what Obi-Wan has given up?

Watch as his soulmate grew from a petulant boy to a petulant, good man, under his tutelage. Watch and ache and wish and look away when it becomes too painful.

These are all things he's known he has to do, all things he knew at the time he may fail at. He hasn't yet.

But this time. This time might just be the one.

"General, stay awake," Cody yells above him as a blaster bolt flies too close to his helmet for comfort. "Med evac!" he tries his comm again, but there's no good signal all the way out here.

Stay awake. Obi-Wan needs to stay awake. His eyes are already half-closed, and his mind is fuzzy. Surely after doing all of those things he thought impossible to do, he's allowed to fail once.

Surely after all this time he should be allowed to slip away, just to sleep. Just until the battle's over.

Anakin should be here, he thinks with a sense of bitter regret.

But Anakin is a Knight now. They'd knighted him impossibly young, made him a general of his own forces. For the better, maybe. After all, one of them is currently bleeding out in the trenches, and it's not the former padawan.

He wants Anakin here. He wants his soulmate, to look at him one more time. He wants to know his soulmate is alright, that his padawan, his Anakin, is okay. It would be so sweet to see his face again.

Then, suddenly, Anakin's there by his side. The bond's connected and drawn him across space just so he can be here. The Force can be so kind sometimes.

Anakin gasps and his hands fall to Obi-Wan's clothes, pawing at the gaps in the fabric, looking for his wounds. "Master!" He says frantically. He sounds like a boy.

Obi-Wan's boy, his soulmate. Slowly and with no small amount of pain, Obi-Wan clasps his hand over Anakin's to still him. "Anakin," he murmurs on a slight smile. "I hoped I could...see you again. I..."

"What happened? Obi-Wan? Where are you?" Anakin looks around but a battlefield is a battlefield. Cody can't even see him. Only Force Sensitives.

Obi-Wan shrugs. He did know the place and the planet, but it feels far away in his mind. There are much more important things to tell Anakin right now.

"I'm sorry we argued before I left," he murmurs, clutching Anakin's hand tighter to his chest. "You were right. I was a coward. I should have...we're soulmates. I should have said it more out loud."

"Obi-Wan, stop," Anakin whispers sounding equal parts furious and desperate. "Tell me later."

"Ah," Obi-Wan says. "I'm not sure that can happen, dearest one. I'd much rather you know now. That I love you, truly. Shamefully. I tried to stop, to not, but you're just...you're an inevitability. I feared being hurt--"

"I won't let anyone hurt you," Anakin mutters, tears cascading down his face.

"It's a bit late for that," Obi-Wan points out with a sort of tired, wry grin. "But I appreciate the sentiment--"

Anakin kisses him. It's not a very good kiss, as both of them are crying and their teeth knock together and their noses smash. But it's his soulmate and he's kissing him.

"General Skywalker?" Cody shouts in surprise, fear, shock. "What the hell?"

Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see Anakin pulling back and looking around the battlefield with warrior eyes. "I won't let anyone hurt you," Anakin says. It sounds like a command to the universe. Obi-Wan's lightsaber jumps into his hand as if it were his own. "Just stay awake."

Obi-Wan blinks at him, but Anakin's already gone, up over the side of the trench.

His eyes feel heavy, but for Anakin. For Anakin he'd try to listen. To obey. To stay awake. To stay.

#asks #prompt fill #hes fine #obikin #soulmates

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muteashes · 4 years

Text

Note: If you have seen this on AO3 I made some edits to cut up paragraph length for mobile viewers

“Cody? What in the world?” Obi-Wan stands over the balcony ledge, eyes wide in surprise as he takes in his Commander hanging from the rail.

Cody closed his eyes, wondering how he keeps getting into these situations. “Sir,” He said, as if he hadn’t just been caught climbing into his general’s quarters.

Somewhere either his line of communication or the clones on watch had failed. The other man should have been at a dinner party celebrating some jedi’s recent knighthood. The potential failure would have to be addressed later, in case there is an underlying problem that could show itself while in the field. Obi-Wan moved further in as Cody dragged himself over the ledge.

When he had righted himself, Obi-Wan had folded his arms back into his sleeves and was pulling off ‘disappointed jedi master’ surprisingly well for all that he was in a bathrobe.

“Nice clothes, sir,” Cody remarked. Obi-Wan looked down blankly before readjusting the belt. There was nothing under the bathrobe, Cody realized before his mind blanked for a moment. Your mind is a mirror, he reminded himself fiercely.

Cody brought himself to attention, staring straight ahead. In his peripheral he could just make out the slow shadow that crept into the adjoining antechamber.

“What were you even doing, Cody?” Obi-Wan asked, when he seemed to have decided his approach. Stern and commanding; clearly knowing something is up and if you confess now you maybe able to save yourself. Cody is familiar enough with the act, he has to do it at least once a tenday.

“Good question, sir,” Cody started, ready to drag this out as long as he could. Obi-Wan didn’t seem particularly mad. Cody had been worried. Nat-borns had a peculiar sense of privacy, and he had known he would be treading in it. He had just hoped to be gone before he was caught.

“Recent policy overwrites to GAR protocol calls for the encouragement of outside activities to lead to more stable mental and emotional response,” Obi-Wan expression didn’t change. “Recreational climbing, sir,” he offered at last.

“You only get that technical when your trying to bore your way out of a problem,” Obi-Wan critiqued, not impressed. Cody tipped his head up.

“It works,” Cody acknowledged. He could get General Skywalker’s eyes to go blank in one sentence. Obi-Wan smiled for a short second, before his face smoothed out.

“Be that as it may,” Obi-Wan hid his smile behind his hand, as if stroking his beard in thought. “You haven’t told me why I found you outside my window. Should I be concerned?”

“It’s nothing bad, General,” Cody admitted.

From behind Obi-Wan he could just make out the shape of Rex as he passed through the main hall connecting the kitchen, bedroom and the antechamber. Cody didn’t say anything. Rex, like the brat Cody denies ever having a hand in raising, turned around and finger gunned him as he slid out the door.

Cody must have made a face, or maybe somehow the brattiness seeped through the force, because Obi-Wan glances over and seeing the empty hall glances back. Obi-Wan stared at him curiously, Cody stared back. Let him ask, Cody feels daring in just thinking it.

The general had told him once that jedi can’t read minds. It’s not thoughts, but very strong feelings that give most away. Things that bleed across the force: like quilt and joy and anger.

Which was good because Cody was very good at faking confidence. He had been practicing since he was youngling, and found that faking often led to reality. So he just thought it. Pictured it, a sort of aggressive feeling of presence.

He kept thinking how solid he felt and how nothing could move him, he had no reason to be ashamed to be here in this room. With Obi-Wan. Who is half naked, the back of Cody’s mind helpfully added. Part of his brain found that very interesting.

He liked his general. Had always liked his general. Obi-Wan was one of the first people that hadn’t treated him as just another clone. Cody liked how he listened when Cody had something to say. He also liked the way Obi-Wan looked at him now, sort of like he was a puzzle and sort of like he was fascinated.

“What are you thinking?” Obi-Wan wondered quietly.

“Nothing bad, sir,” Cody said again. Equally quiet. He watched idly as Obi-Wan’s cheeks turned pink. The jedi’s eyes widened, hand pressed against his brow as he half turned away.

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan coughed. He looked over, briefly meeting Cody’s stare again before flushing again. “It’s late, I think we can come back to this later.”

“As you say, General,” Cody said; then, softly, “Good night, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan, face still pink, smiled fondly. The world seemed so small between them, “Good night, Cody,”

When the door behind him slid closed, Cody glanced back at the empty door way. Not the way he had thought it would go, but that was easier done then he thought. Sliding out of apartment to where Rex was waiting for him, before he managed to think too hard about it.

“The Coruscant Temple Practical Approach, forms one to five,” Rex read aloud from the liberated holopad, “I guess it makes sense that Kenobi would have a copy, but I can’t believe Skywalker did too.”

“Are you more surprised he reads?” Cody grinned.

“You’re lucky your driving, vode.” Rex smacked his shoulder with the pilfered pads. Cody shrugged. They had a bet to win.

Commander Thire of the guard had taken up a whole booth at 79s. He gave them a friendly smile when they stomped through the door.

“Vode. I hadn’t expected you to show up so soon.”

“Did we win?” Rex tapped the table with a fist. Cody dropped the holopads in front of them. Thire leaned across the table and scooped them up. Making a show as he examined them.

“Nope,” Thire shook his head in faux sadness, but his lips kept twitching as he fought a smile. Cody scowled when Thire caught his eye. “Wolffe and Ponds beat you by a good hour.”

“How did they beat us?” Rex demanded.

“Apparently they asked the jedi for their holopads.” Thire chuckled. He waved his hand from where it rested on the back of the booth, encouraging them to sit down.

Cody glanced at Rex, who was silently mouth ‘asked?’ to himself.

Cody felt the same. Asking General Koon would have been an easy one, though he was surprised Wolffe would take that route, but picturing them asking Windu for his holopad to win a bet raised his level of respect for his brothers. They had gumption. Maybe he could get a vid recording of it.

“Hey, you beat the others at least,” Thire consoled them cheerfully. “I can buy you drinks for that, and because you won me several bets on General Skywalker having a copy too.”

Rex scowled when Cody nudged him. No one actually thought the General couldn’t read, he just had never been seen with a holopad before so their were theories. Like general dislike of all texts. Or allergies.

“So,” Rex started. Then stopped, staring at the holopads.

“So,” Cody agreed. “Now we got to figure out how to return them.”

“You could mail them?” Thire suggested.

“Then they’ll notice it was taken in the first place.” Cody waved it off.

“Will General Skywalker, though?” Rex argued. “He’s going to think he lost it and someone helpfully returned it.”

#codywan #commander cody #Obi wan #captain rex #commander thire

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kylos-bens · 3 years

Text

Mistakes Like This ↠ Obi-Wan Kenobi (Obi-Wan x Reader) Chapter 11

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: violence against droids lololol well dummies. some soft lowkey domestic obi??? Will make your heart weak???!!?! SUM SMUT OFC TO ADD ON TO THAT.

Tags: @blondekel77 @jediknight-22 @wellhellothere1002

A/N: I’ve been waiting to get to this chapter. Always wanted to write about stuff happening in Coruscant 😜

Before dinner, you decided to go through a training course. That was your usual routine when back when you were Padawan and it was the perfect time to do it because it was usually empty. You can set it up to how you like it and there were no issues with others.

A few Padawan learners were just leaving when you arrived and you picked up a holopad to start setting the course. You put it to the highest setting and customized what the training droid would attack you with. The room was empty now and then balls of light started rising from the ground and expanded. It was a change of scenery to a desert planet. The temperature of the room rose and beads of sweat started to form on your forehead. The simulated sun was beating down on you that you actually had to shield your eyes from it to get a good look at your surroundings.

You stretched and thought this would be a piece of cake. It was more like trying to beat your highest score. You pace around waiting for the droid to appear. You ignite your lightsaber and see the droid drop down from above. The more advance the setting the more agile these droids become that they almost mimic people. It straightened itself out and it raised its arm igniting a double-bladed yellow lightsaber.

You immediately went for a swing and it blocked you. The droid backed away and swung the sabers at lightspeed. The lightsabers kept meeting at every attack and you shout at the droid to give it all it's got. It does backflips and jumps but you could do the same and caught up to it. It was a jab and swing with a few occasions of close calls of this droid being impaled. This went on for a few more minutes until you sliced the double-bladed lightsaber in half and swung yours quickly to decapitate the droid. It sparked and fell to its knees.

The simulation changes quickly and you are now on a docking bay surrounded by battle droids. Without hesitation, they start shooting at you and you blocked all the attacks the best you could. Right now you were outnumbered and you crouched down so the other battle droids could shoot one of their own. It was starting to bore you so you lifted up all the droids with the Force and as they stayed suspended in the air shooting out and shooting their guns you crushed them by closing your fist. They all started dropping like flies and the simulation started to waver. You looked up confused as to what happened because you knew there was more. The docking bay changed back to the training course room.

"Having fun?" Obi-Wan was standing behind you and you laughed.

"Yea I just wanted to see how fast I could beat this," you wiped away the sweat off your forehead. "You need me for something?"

"Did you have dinner yet?" he puts the hood over his head. You raised an eyebrow at him and he hands you over your brown robes.

"No, why? What is this for?" you hold your robes up in front of you.

"We're going out," he says and you furrow your brows.

"We have to look for someone?" you put on the robes and he shakes his head.

"No darling I'm just going to take you out for the night," he smiled behind the beard.

"Wow really?" Your heart raced and the way he was standing so close to you here in the Jedi Temple gave you exhilaration for some reason. "I remember when you used to hate when I left the Temple."

"Well, that was when you were a Padawan," the both of you started to leave out of the room. "Now tell me how did you sneak out?"

It was a warm feeling walking through the Uscru District of Coruscant with Obi-Wan. No one recognized who you were and since everyone liked to mind their own business they barely looked at the both of you. Plus everyone else was wearing some kind of hooded attire. Since you lived and trained on Coruscant there was never a moment the both of you were exploring Coruscant together. Obi might have done that in his youth and you have your own share of experiences through the different districts.

It was a busy night and you could see everyone gathering at the clubs and restaurants. A few humanoids were standing at the corners selling who knows what and you made a comment to Obi-Wan that you were going to try it out. He scoffed and said that you wouldn't want to do that. The both of you laughed and you felt the back of his hand brush against yours. You went quiet and thought to yourself about taking his hand.

"What do you think about stew?" Obi-Wan stopped walking and you watched him look up at the restaurant. Hot Stew was flashing in red neon lights in Aurabesh.

"Sure it's been a while since I've had that," you followed him through the doors and the restaurant was packed. It was a good sign that they had good food. Music was blasting and you looked around the place to see what everyone was getting to eat. It seemed like stew was the only option here. Obi guided you through the maze of people and he finally found a spot at the back. A group of friends were sitting at the table close to the both of you. They were laughing and you listened in on their conversation. It was mostly about gossip and drama in the Coruscant high profiles.

You remembered the times you would go out to this district on your own pretending you were one of them. Just living a life amongst the millions of people in the Uscru District.

As soon as Obi and you say comfortably at the table a droid came around. It introduced itself to the both of you and displayed a screen on its torso. "Wow they have all kinds of stew!" you looked at the screen and Obi looked through and he stopped at one spot.

"Bantha stew?" he suggested to you. "Wow they even have nerf stew. Have you ever had that?"

"Nerf? No let's try it!" you got excited. Nerf was never part of the diet at the Temple so you were curious as to what it tasted like. Obi-Wan ordered two bowls of it and the droid processed it. It started to beep and steam. You watched as the torso of the droid opened up and two bowls of the nerf stew were ready.

"It smells good," Obi-Wan reached for the wooden bowls and the droid poured out some sort of juiced from the palm of its hand. It placed the cups next to you. It also produced toasted bread from its torso and placed between you and Obi-Wan.

"That would be ten credits," the droid opens up it's palm. You were reaching for the credits in your pocket but Obi-Wan dropped his own into the hand of the droid. It thanked the both of you and moved on to the next customer.

"Here's the five credits," you put them on the table for Obi.

"Save it for later," he blows on a spoonful of steaming stew. You shrugged and pocketed it. You looked down at your own bowl and the thick soup was steaming and you can see the chunks of nerf floating in it.

"How is it?" you looked back at Obi-Wan who was already chewing. He just nods his head before swallowing.

"I'm surprised it good," he says and you blow on a spoonful before taking a bite. It was really flavorful and the nerf meat tasted fresh and melts in the mouth. You had to agree with him and the both of you shared the bread at the middle.

"Better than the dinner from the Temple!"you joked and removed the hood from over your head. Obi-Wan was busy with his own bowl but he did take some time to break pieces of the bread to give to you. You commented about how cozy you felt and he agreed. Then it came to the subject of who would do a better job at replicating the stew and it turned into a whole debate but he ends up yielding to you because you mentioned how you never saw him make food for himself. On missions he was always looking for the prepacked meals. Then he made a comment about how you can be a chef on side. He chuckled while you just rolled your eyes. The aura between the both of you this evening was so relaxed. It was a change and you like it this was. It was so odd but you weren't complaining. It was on rare occasions you'd get to spend some time with Obi-Wan and no other responsibilities nagging you.

He was enjoying himself as well and it surprised you when he called the droid back to order spotchka. The droid returned with a bottle of the blue liquid and two glasses. It poured the both of you a glass and left. "It's been a while since I've had some," you lift the glass and swirl the liquid around before taking a sip. Obi-Wan started to tell you about the days when he was training under Qui-Gon. He lowered his head and looked down at his own spotchka.

"Last time I had it was with him," Obi says and you stared at his hand gripping the glass. Without hesitating you slip your hand into his. He looked up at you again and there was a trace of sadness on his face. This was probably bring back memories of his old master. You traced the back of knuckles and there were a few cuts that were healing. Without thinking you lift his hand to kiss them and you held his gaze as you did. The bustling restaurant suddenly felt so distant and it felt like it was only the two of you. He opened up his palm and cradled your cheek. You kept yours hand on his and he smiled at you softly.

Obi-Wan didn't have to say anything. He let some of his guard and you read what he was thinking about. "You won't lose me too," you said to him out loud.

"I know," he holds on to you tighter.

The both of you were out of that restaurant and back on the bustling street. The nightlife in this district was invigorating and it brought back some fond memories when you were a Padawan and you sneaked out with some of your friends. Obi-Wan at the time was probably aware but he never brought it up with you. That gave you an idea of where to go with him.

You stopped walking and he turned around lifting his hood off his head. "Is something the matter darling?" he asked. You take his hand and he stared down at it. His large warm hand grasped your own and it felt good to be doing this in public.

"Can I show you something?" you asked. He nods and you drag him through a crowd and both of you put your hoods back up. His grip on your hand tightened as you almost ran throughout the people. There was so much noise but you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

You looked around as you were starting to get familiar with the location. The lower district was coming closer and Obi-Wan stopped you. "You're not lost are you?" he asked. "We shouldn't move away from Uscru."

"Trust me on this one," you turned to him and then spot the familiar alley. "This way." You lead him through an alley and Obi-Wan kept his hand over his lightsaber. There was a ledge coming up and finally let go of his hand. You looked up to see the Coruscant skies with ships flying and the neon lights giving the haze a dreamy view. "We just need to get up there." You point at the ledge. It was a quick hop up and without breaking a sweat you were up on the ledge. Obi-Wan followed right after you and removed his hood again seeing that both of you were alone on the rooftop. He followed you as you balanced your way to another ledge and climbed up so you can reach the rooftop.

"I didn't know you were going to make me climb buildings tonight," Obi-Wan says as he lifts himself up. You take his arm and pulled him up.

"For this view of course I was," you said and when he looked up you saw the awe in his face. Up on this building that you both scaled there was a perfect view of Coruscant. You could see the Uscru district and between the buildings you can see the Federal District where the Jedi Temple.

"How did you find this?" Obi-Wan stood next to you.

"I wanted a place to be alone," you leaned on the ledge. "This I where I went. I got to see everything and pretend I was not a Jedi." There was silence from Obi-Wan and you hear him shuffle next to you. The whirring of the buildings and ships calmed you for some reason.

"I can see the appeal," Obi-Wan whispered. From the corner of you eye you can see him look around and then his gaze lands on you. You feel his fingers slip into your hair and he kissed your temple. "What else did you do?"

"Meditated out here," you moved closer to him. It felt so right to be in his arms and he looked back out to the horizon. "I thought about you."

"And what about me?" he gently massaged the back of your neck.

"I wondered if we were different people you'd see me as an equal," you take the loose thread from the sleeve of his robe and twist it around your finger.

"I could see it," he said and you stayed silent. That thought came up a lot and if Obi-Wan wasn't a Jedi he would work as diplomat. You'd think about how your paths would cross if you worked as a curator at the Coruscant Museum of Galactic Cultures. It was just your fantasies when you were much younger. Thinking about it now he would probably be married and have a family of his own.

"Really?" you laughed at your own thoughts.

"You don't?" he holds your chin. There was concentration written all over his face and you can tell he was trying to read you. "I wouldn't be married."

"Would I be your young mistress if you were?" you joked with him and he let out a hearty laugh.

"This version of you is perfect," Obi-Wan holds you close to him. "A Jedi Knight and Jedi Master." You stroke his beard and look up to him.

"I just want to stay like this," you whispered on his lips. He leans into a kiss and you feel his arms tighten around you. The taste of spotchka lingered on your tongues and you deepen the kiss. He presses you against the ledge and you snake your hands into his hair. You stayed in an embrace as you kissed for a little while longer. "Do we have to go back to the Temple?"

"No we'll find some place to stay," he was breathing heavy on your lips.

A place you did find. It was towards the edge of the Uscru district. A motel that was fit for scoundrels of Coruscant. There was a few sketchy individuals hanging around outside and one tried to sell you death sticks. Obi-Wan brushed right by him and you followed him into the the building.

The place was musty and it smelled rancid. However, both of you wanted to be hidden as best as you could. The farther away from the Jedi Temple the better. Obi-Wan got a keycard for a room and the manager tried to get a good look at the both of you but Obi-Wan just waved his hand over the Rodian. He went silent and Obi-Wan motioned for you to follow him. "I don't think you needed to do that," you walked by his side.

"I'm just being cautious," Obi said and he lets you up the stairs. You were not sure about the plans for the rest of the evening with the amount of spotchka you both had sleep was the most likely outcome. There was also a feeling that you didn't want to let this night go to waste. It was an opportunity to be with Obi-Wan without holding back.

Once you got to the door of your room Obi-Wan inserts the card and it slides open. He lets you in and you looked around the cheap motel room. It was dusty and you can real no one has been in here. A bed was placed right under the window and you went over and placed your robe over the sheets. Blinds covered an elongated window and you peaked through them. There wasn't a decent view to see it was just the view of the building next door. The neon lights blinked red. You open the blinds and through the cracks and the red neon lights flood the room and on to the bed.

Obi-Wan sat at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. He was removing his boots and you watched as the fabric of his robe stretched against his back. You went over and placed your hand on the back of his head stroking his hair. The nervousness you feel whenever you're in a closed off room with him returned. Now that there was no distraction you weren't sure how you would feel. "I'm going to use the refresher," you were just about to part from him when he takes your arm. The red lights blinked off and the room was in darkness. You felt his hand go to your waist and squeeze you.

"Don't go," he whispered and you felt him press his head against your stomach. The red lights blinked on again and it wavered weakly. You move your hands to remove his robes and did this skillfully. Both of you were familiar with how to take them off layer by layer now. He looked up at you and in in the red light his eyes had a darker shade. With the way he looked at you there was some desperation there. As you were being slowly undressed he placed kisses down the valley of your breast. You placed your knee between his legs on the bed.

His hand found their own way down the side of your body peeling away the robes. You teased him by pulling his lower lip with your teeth. He grumbled and you smiled. Obi-Wan laid back and you smooth your hands over the sparse hairs on his chest. He groans a little when you add the pressure of your warm core over his bulge. You kiss Obi-Wan and he reached up behind the back of your head to hold you longer against him.

The room was in darkness again and you slipped out of your undergarments. You here the thump and roll of your lightsaber on the metal flooring. Obi-Wan shimmied out of his own clothes from under you. He was more careful with his weapon and in the darkness you find his cock to wrap your hands around it. "Are you comfortable?" you stroke him and he breathes a yes. The red light came back on and you can see his face again. His eyes were closed and his head tilted back as you pleasure him with both your hands.

"A little faster darling," he opened one eye at you and you do as he says while licking the palm of your hand to lubricate him. He moans out your name and it was making your insides quake already. You shift over so you were straddling one of his thighs. His hand reached up to grab hold of your neck as you slide up and down on his thigh. The friction pleasuring you enough to get you to whimper. Obi-Wan watched as you worked on his cock and you rocked back and forth on his thigh.

The wetness from your cunt soaked him up and he stayed as still as he could so you can work yourself into climax. He didn't even mind that you let go of his cock so he took that as an opportunity to hold both your hands as you rubbed your swollen nub against his thigh. A loud whine escaped your lips and you couldn't cover your mouth. He trailed his hands to your elbows and held you there tightly as you aimlessly grind yourself against him. Obi-Wan curious as to what you managed to do on him lifts his leg up to meet the rocking of your hips. It was turning him on and he wanted to see how you will come apart. He's seen you do it so many times and was not tired of hearing you call his name out in ecstasy.

Obi-Wan let go of your elbows and took hold of your hips so he can press you harder against his thigh. He even sat up again so he can kiss your neck. You grip his shoulders and sped up your grinding. "That's right darling. Keep going," he was desperate.

"Obi-Wan. . . oh my Maker ," you whimpered as he placed his hand against your clit and rubbed in circles. The intensity was building up and you couldn't help but cry out in pleasure. He reached up behind you and grasped a fistful of your hair.

His thigh was slick with your arousal and at any moment you were going to explode in pleasure. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and the other in his mouth. "I'm going to cum!" you whined and the rhythm of your rocking was to your liking. Obi-Wan encouraged your climax by rubbing your clit as well and it wasn't long till the wave of pleasure spread through your body. You shivered and trembled as a climax was initiated. Obi-Wan was holding you up so he can see your face and body contort in pleasure.

"Maker you looked absolutely beautiful," he whispered running his thumb over you lips. You hold onto his wrist and you still rock you swollen nub gently on his thighs. Your mind was back in its post climax haze and all you wanted to do was fall against his body after that stint but now he has other plans. His cock was stiff and he held it in his hand pumping it. "Turn around darling."

#star wars #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #star wars fanfic #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #Coruscant #I’m so in love with this chapter #Mistakes Like This (Obi-Wan Kenobi Fic)

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