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phoeebsbuffay · 1 year

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Imagine you are a peasant who happens to save Darth Vader after his meeting with Ahsoka left him unconscious—and you have no idea who this man is. Part I.

Warnings: drama, unburnt Vader, angst—but fluffy endings as always, naturally.

Warnings 2: not recommended for minors or those who are sensitive to the themes aforementioned.

Warnings 3: slightly/loosely inspired in “La Belle et la Bête” (the one with Léa Seydoux).

Warnings 4: references to the “Rebels”, final episode season 2.

Recommendations: “This Love” by Taylor Swift; “These Days” by Foo Fighters.

***

Intro.

You are a daughter of a local merchant who is widely respected by the village that is located somewhere at the planet Y/C. You have two oldest brothers, being the youngest and only girl of the family.

You love reading. Books are a great passion of yours and your father, though he is not a man of great possessions, doubles his efforts in gifting you these seeing as precious as they are to him.

You delight in your father, he is your only family you have: your mother died in childbirth so you never met her. You are very attached to your family, devouting yourself to him. However, these are days of wars. You already lost one brother to the clonic wars and now that the Empire is rising again, another joins it.

It is you and your father until he is summoned to make a long journey to a far away part of the planet. So he leaves you instructions to take care of the household in your absence.

“If anything the neighbors will look after you”.

Back then, you are no more than six and ten summers of age. Despite your fears, you are eager to prove him you are as fierce and brave as your brothers.

“You will be proud of me, papa”, you tell him. “I will be able to take care of myself.”

He smiles at you, though uncertainty lies in his eyes. To leave a damsel such as yourself behind… it does cost him a great deal. But encouraged by you, the older man eventually aquiesces.

“I promise you, my dear, that I will come back as soon as I can.”

He assures you, placing a kiss over your temple. You say goodbye to each other, but as you wave, wishing him luck, you are struck with a bad feeling that he is never to return again.

***

Ten years later.

Empire rises and, as result, violence emerges. Yet, though you despise it, you learn to live in the shadows, far from getting in the sight of the stormtroopers. These are the men who serve Emperor Palpatine and are always present in your life, ensuring there are no rebellions against his power.

You know very little about it, though you do wonder about your father’s whereabouts. Where did he go? Why hasn’t he sent you any letter? The first years were moved by anxiety, with you trying to do all you could to find about him. But now you accept he is gone.

As you carry on with your life, you start teaching local younglings all the whilst you dismiss potential suitors. A young woman such as yourself should not live by yourself, you are often told. You smile and often are agreeable, but you bow to no one.

Such has been the quietitude you surround your life with: living on your own, reading books, teaching in order to pay your bills, making charities… Until one day your life turns an upside down. Not too far from where you are, an explosion is heard.

You, who often preferrers to be far from trouble, are somehow attracted to it.

“Miss Y/N! What you are doing? That tower over there was under attack of the Sith.”

You have read very little about Sith or Jedi, but you don’t care. What do you have to lose? Instead you smile and dismiss the concerns of others.

“It’s fine, Mr H/N. I am just checking if someone is hurt. The explosion might have hurt people there. I am not taking very long, I promise you.”

And that is how you don’t come back to people’s eyes again.

***

Lord Vader is unconscious, almost engulfed by flames that resulted from his conflict with Ahsoka. His former Padawan, the one whom he trained and was attached to… Seems to overcome him little by little. She is now his equal in many ways, as if they are two sides of the same coin.

“Vengeance is not the Jedi way.”

“I am no Jedi”.

And here he is. Defeated is not the right word for his situation, though when Lord Vader starts to open his eyes, he removes his broken helmet instantly. He coughs, weakened by the smoke, desperately trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck”, he curses under his breath, his curls dropping over his face as he tries to stand. “Fuck!”

Fire starts to spread in a clear point of explosion. The Sith Lord, however in pain he might be, manages to leave the destruction spot he’d been engulfed after a long battle with Ahsoka.

To stand amidst the ashes requests more than abusing of his physical force, which is limited…far more than he likes to admit, restraining it to scarce moves, is a task no broken pride bends to it willingly.

Yet, he rises. But at what cost? What did he lose? His mind is purged by its demons and his soul is tormented by an endless path of suffering. Accostumed to it, though, Lord Vader clenches his jaw as he slowly escape through the flames that seem to refuse to let go of its prey.

He coughs. Will the simply smoke wipe out the existence of the great Darth Vader? The mere idea makes him snort…and it costs his stability. He grows weaker and his eyes are blurred. The more effort he puts in it, the harder it gets for him.

Death does not seem to be so welcoming now. Not when the demons seem close to stretch their claws to grip his soul. It is only fair they do, so he thinks to himself.

His pride, however, accuses him of weakness: is he going to let it go this easily? Is he accepting the flames under the excuse to purge his sins?

His mind begins to get unclear. Words are dissociate of his own control. No more than being the phantom of a great Jedi, the existence of this great villain seems to cease to exist.

And his last words are:

“Forgive me, Padmé.”

But when he collapses, he does not so into the ground, rather so in somebody else’s arms. And his eyes finally close before making this last assumption: perhaps his late wife finally came for his rescue.

***

You are baffled by how you are able to carry a taller and heavier man in your arms to some nearby abandoned castle. It does exhaust you, though, but you are amazed by how you managed to carry him somewhere safe. And far more so to see how this castle is completely left to dust.

“Well, looks like I have a lot to do here”, you sigh in content. Your years in solitude have been boring to say the least and here’s an opportunity to make yourself useful.

You start cleaning the quarters where the unconscious man is going to stay. You do so rather quickly, removing the dust of it and making his bed proper to sleep. As you leave him there, you go to your own household and fetch your cleaning things—besides new pillows, blankets—before going back and assuring this castle is back to life.

It is rather a heavier task you take to yourself, one of that kind that involves dealing with neighbors who want to meddle in your business; a lot of dust, and looking after this mysterious man.

And as you do, you are at first starstruck by the sand shade that colors his curls, the scar above his left eye—as well as other scars in his chest when you helped him change his clothes for more comfortable ones that you got from your elder brothers—, the strength of his physique… all of which makes you blush.

It is when he notices your long gaze, the contemplation coming from your messy thoughts—who is this stranger?; how come did he stop by in the midst of destruction places?; what brought him there; how handsome he is, almost an angel…—which makes him open his eyes wide and hold your wrist with quite some intensity that makes you scream.

“By the Maker!”

“Who the fuck are you?”, he inquires you impatiently. As he stands, you realize how tall this stranger is, which makes you pale—specially when realizing his eyes are yellow. “Where am I? What are you doing to me?! Answer me!”

“S-Sir! I am not someone important! Please, Sir. I… I am just helping you! I took you out of the ashes and…”

Vader narrows his eyes as he reads into your thoughts. He is tempted to suffocate you: he does wrap his hand around your neck, but when pulling you closer, he discovers everything about you.

Yet, for some reason unbeknownst to him, his eyes scan your y/c eyes, your y/c skin, your y/c hair, eyeing up and down the simple gown you dress. You detest to feel the heat that paints your cheeks, but to his surprise you don’t run from his intent gaze.

“Very well, Y/N.” He lets go of you and when feeling exhaustion taking over you, he is surprised—so are you—when you help him take a seat. “Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t know.” You answer sincerely, your body shaking of fear despite the bold there is in your eyes.

An interesting contrast, so judges Vader. He lets go of you.

“You may leave”, so he demands, back to the bed he notices has been poorly cleaned. Vader takes a look at this wounds, noticing the bandage there had been none before.

“No”, your voice comes out softly, but your words are firm.

Vader is rarely surprised but you manage to get his attention. Others in your position would be thankful for the opportunity to be dismissed of his presence.

“What do you mean by “no”? I am not asking you to stay”, says he rudely.

“I heard very well in the first time. There is no need to say it again.”

Vader looks at you, perplexed. He could have killed you, but your courage earns him some degree of admiration—though he is not admitting that out loud.

“Do you know who I am?”

“No”, you answer sincerely, all the more getting from him perplexed expressions. “Should I?”

“I am dangerous”, he warns you.

You know he is willing to play that game. But what is more surprising is that you are prompted to play it.

“I can tell that. But you are also wounded, sir. Let me tend you, and after that…”

Vader shakes his head, his eyes glinting in between amusement and annoyance.

“Get out of here, I am saying one last time! I can kill you.”

“You can”, you agree with a small smirk twisting on the corner of your lips. “But you are also more likely to die if I don’t help you healing. Unless you have some ability to heal yourself?”

And that is how starts.

***

A week later.

Vader is pacing around this castle that, until recently, had been covered in dust, left to it’s complete abandonment. He perceives in the smallest details how the building has been carefully uncovered of darkness and local ignorance. He finds no need to discover that the locals thought this castle to be a residence of ghosts.

Considering whom he once was, Vader laughs quietly to himself. A beast to many, he was once a charming prince. The comparison draws him a disdain.

As he paces around this rather astonishing castle, detesting how his wounds are far deeper than he thought—which requires a more primitive medicine used by your skillful hands, something he takes no pleasure at—he comes to find you at an abandoned library.

To his surprise, you are humming as you clean shelf by shelf. Vader cannot look away from what he sees: your hair dropping in long waves of curls, the determination stamped in your features as you bite your bottom lip, looking at every book with delight. You do not content yourself with what you are doing, though: you want to know what stories lie behind the velvet covers.

Vader stands there, unnoticed. He is partially annoying by how you ignore him, unaware of his identity. Worse, you are not frightened by his presence, by the demons found in his eyes, assaulting his soul.

It is only when you twirl happily that you find him observing you.

“Staring is rude”, you point out rather shyly.

Vader is not going to admit he likes the heat that paints your face.

“Is it?”, his voice is soft for the first time.

“It is.”

There is silence hanging in between you two, which makes the whole moment awkward. It is then you notice the bandage you made in his arm is loose. So you move towards him, but when you try to fix it, he removes it away.

“Stop”, he says abruptly, threatening to suffocate you. “Or else you die.”

You levitate and your eyes go wide, but the fearlessness in them make Vader furrow his eyebrows and eventually let go of you.

“Please”, you ask him, softly so. “Let me heal you, sir.”

He snorts at you, yellow irises flaring with anger.

“I am not here to be fixed, Y/N. I am completely…” He interrupts himself, feeling a strange pain in his abs and arm.

“You nearly got yourself burned”, you tell him as you help him go back to bed. “Allow me to heal you.”

“There is better medicine to be put in use than yours”, he scoffs at you. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

You frown.

“I don’t like how you talk to me, sir. I am only trying to help you staying alive. If you feel like dying so soon, spare us time and let me know that is your true wish.”

The Sith Lord stares at you in bewilderment.

“Very few are bold to me. Those who dare to be so are not here to tell their tales.”

You sigh and shake your head. Ignoring what he is saying, you lie him down and start to looking after him.

Vader gives you a long look, annoyed, but says nothing—he is indeed in pain and, besides, you are not an entirely bad company.

“Why are you doing this?”, he asks.

You feel his gaze on you. But for some reason, you keep concentrated in what you are doing without looking back. It is safer for you, or so you think.

“Because I want to”, you respond him.

“Do you have no family?”

Vader knows it’s a sensitive topic by how you shuffle awkwardly on your seat. Your silence makes him sigh, so he tries again, unsure why he is trying to engage in a thread with you.

“You have no Force”, the Sith Lord observes.

You raise your head, frowning in confusion.

“What?”

For the first time in seven years, Darth Vader is brought to laughters. He gives you a quizzical look as a result:

“How on earth do you ignore the Force?”

You blush. Unaware of his disconcerting growth of admiration for you, you don’t understand why he is making yourself a fool. Part of you wonders if helping such a handsome man is worthy your time, but the good in you prevails such thinking. So you say:

“Excuse me, sir, but what do you take me for? I am but a peasant with scarce access to knowledge.”

“I thought you liked to read.”

Vader is amused for finally annoying you.

“And I do. But what does this have to do with anything?”

“I get you don’t read about that then.” Without taking second thoughts, Vader adds: “What do you often read?”

You cast him a distrustful look, but a smile softens your features. And as you look at him, you seem to start losing the fear of facing those yellow flaring eyes.

It’s how everything starts: with books.

(To be continue)

#star wars #star wars imagine #Darth Vader x female reader #Darth Vader x you #Darth Vader x y/n #Darth Vader #la belle et la bête #beauty and the beast #imagine Star Wars

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jedi-lothwolf · 1 year

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Whumpril Day 7: Words That Can't be Taken Back. (Alt prompt 12)

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars/Prequels

Summary: Anakin and Obi-wan get into an argument and Anakin says something he'll regret.

"Sometimes I wish you were killed by Maul instead of Qui-gon! Maybe then I could have had a good teacher!" Anakin angrily yelled at his brother.

Obi-wan just stood there, unsure of what to say. Words mustered after a moment, "me too." With that the man started walking away.

"Obi-wan, wait! I didn't" Anakin started to follow after his brother, "I didn't mean."

Rex walked into the room the two had been arguing in, "what's going on, general?"

Anakin sighed and turned to face Rex, "I said something I should have. I didn't even mean it I'm just angry." He walked over to the commander, "should I follow him?"

"Sir, I don't know General Kenobi well enough to know what he's gonna need. What did you say?"

Anakin explained their argument and waited for Rex to reply. The clone had heard stories like this before. He knew good ways to handle angry words. "Does he have a place that he goes when he's upset?"

"Yeah, the tree in the temple garden."

"Then go there. Anakin, you really fucked up this time."

"Yeah, I know that Rex" annoyance slipped through his voice and he turned to leave, "wish me luck."

Rex didn't say anything. Obi-wan had every right to be upset. What Anakin said was unforgivable, no matter how angry he was.

Anakin was right. Obi-wan sat at the stump of the old tree. Most of the time he would be meditating but this time he sat with his legs laid out and his back against the tree. The man was quietly talking to himself.

"Obi-wan" Anakin started, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're here." The boy moved next to his master and sat down with him. "You've been a great master, a great brother. I know you're doing your best and that I can't always be an easy person to deal with. Thank you Obi-wan. I know that doesn't make what I said any better but I just needed you to know I didn't mean it."

Obi-wan just stared at him. He'd never heard something like that from Anakin before. He sounded genuine and he understood that the knight didn't mean anything he'd said but words like that dig into a person's heart and stay like parasites, they cause deep wounds that can never be seen on the outside and scar all the same. Time was needed to heal any wound.

"Thank you Anakin. Please be careful with your words, they can hurt. Make sure to never let anger drive you."

"Got it. Now, what did you mean by 'me to'?"

Now Obi-wan was left with his own words to deal with. "It's" he paused, "hard to be the one who survives sometimes."

"I understand." The two talked for a little while before agreeing they would be okay.

"Words can be weapons. They stab into hearts the same way knives can, they burn into people's skin and stay there. Reminders of the things that have been said can hurt just as much as physical injuries; sometimes worse. You must be careful with what you say." That's what Qui-gon used to say. Getting up to leave Obi-wan looked back at the tree. It looks like he still has parts of his teaching to instill in his padawan.

#star wars #star wars whump #whump #star wars the clone wars #obi wan whump #anakin whump #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars the clone wars whump #rex being helpful #star wars prequels #anakin star wars #obi wan needs a hug #obi wan star wars #whumpril #whumpril 2023 #whumpril day 7 #whumpril alt prompt 12 #Words that can't be taken back

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obislittleone · 2 years

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House Of Memories (4/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: angst, nightmares, non-canon use of the force (idk)

Summary: Obi-Wan is tired, and having two padawans is a struggle. He becomes lucky when one of them is able to help the other in his favor.

A/n: Last episode was one of the greatest episodes in television. Also, someone asked me about the title, and no I was not being creative, this series is being inspired by the song House of Memories by Panic! at the disco... so do with that knowledge what you will ig

Words: 1.9k

As a child who has experienced passed trauma, Anakin often had nightmares. You were young enough not to remember the days of your slavery, having been rescued by Obi-Wan and Qui Gon very early. Anakin, however, struggled with some memories of being treated less than human by beings who thought themselves superior to a slave. He also dealt with visions of his mother, and how poorly she did on her own. He would sometimes have dreams of her crying alone in her room because of how she missed him.

He was getting to be more independent, a young teenager by now, so often he kept it to himself, until one night, he started thrashing in his sleep, unable to control himself for the inner torment his subconscious was going through. He tried his best to fix it, to reach for his mother and make it so that she could escape that planet the way he did. She was always so close and yet unattainable. His arms were reaching out, both in his dreams and in reality. He didn't know if he'd ever conquer the last few inches, it seemed he was struggling against a solid wall to no avail.

You had woken up when you heard him cry his mother's name. You'd grown quite close to Anakin over the past years you've been training with him, and you knew how dearly he held his mother in his heart. Shmi Skywalker, a lovely woman in whom you thought you'd known just by the stories. A loving mother with a kind and gentle soul, a sweet smile with the most genuine meaning behind it always. A woman who wanted what was best for her son at any cost, even leaving her behind. You hated when Anakin had nightmares about her. He always sounded like he was in pain when he cried out in his sleep.

You got up out of your bed, opening the sliding door between your room and the main room of the apartment you all shared together. Anakin was between yours' and Obi-Wan's rooms, though sometimes you wish it wasn't. Not for your sake of course, but for your Master, who awoke practically at the crack of dawn to see where he was needed before your training even began. You knew that some days after dealing with the both of you, he would be running on little to no sleep.

You had been branching out your power recently, trying new things with the force, under the watchful eye of Obi-Wan. His guidance helped you to explore places in your abilities in which you never knew existed. Though you were a tired twelve-year-old, not thinking straight and simply opting to try something for the sake of more restful hours, it didn't seem like such a bad idea in your head.

You went into Anakin, who was nearly about to roll off his bed and onto the floor, his arms out in front of him, reaching for something that was not there. You rubbed your tired eyes before approaching him quietly. It was bad luck to wake a sleepwalker, and though Anakin wasn't standing, you translated the meaning of the phrase that it should apply to him also.

You knelt down, grabbing one of his hands, and closing your eyes to focus. It was hard, since your need for sleep caused your focused mind to wander into an almost restful state. Focus... Just like Master always says, keep your mind tethered.

Soon you had delved into Anakin's nightmare, and it was awful. You saw his mother's face, tears streaming down as she cried out for her son to come back, as she wished to see him one last time. The sorrow and grief you felt coming from the boy in front of you was painful, and it went all through you, hitting your heart the hardest. Is this what he deals with at night? You didn't know how he was able to see these things in his dreams, then pretend like it didn't bother him the day after. It bothered you now, knowing how much emotional stress this brought on.

I'm strong enough, you thought, I can take it for him.

It took more energy out of you, energy that you didn't think you had to spare. Your body became tired, and your mind felt so full. It was quite a task, but sure enough, you were pulling away all the bad things from his dreams, leaving only the good things. The beautiful smile of his mother, the loving embraces and warm feelings from memories not soon lost to him.

Obi-Wan had awakened at Anakin's voice as well, though with his state of exhaustion, having dealt with the council grinding down on his schedule lately, it took him longer to reach the boy's room, where you were already tending to your fellow padawan. His brows furrowed as he didn't quite know what he was seeing in the dark of the night. The only thing lighting the scene was the passing by speeders outside the window, the Coruscanti traffic never seemed to stop.

He stood in the doorway a few seconds longer, unsure if he should interrupt you yet. You were so focused, and clearly had a reason for being here.

You were breathing evenly, almost as if meditating to yourself. A moment later you had abruptly pulled away from him, a small jump back to your behind as you fell away from Anakin's subconscious. It worked, or you believed it did, for the boy was sleeping soundly, his arms now wrapped around one of his many pillows, which he swore daily were absolutely necessary. You believed him now.

You stood up, keeping your eyes on Anakin, tiptoeing backwards to make sure he stayed as restful as he was. You were so focused on the boy's newfound comfort, that you neglected the fact that there was another presence in the room. You backed right into your Master, standing with his arms crossed as you dropped to the ground in immediate fear. You covered your mouth, not letting any noise escape after all you went through to keep Anakin resting.

You looked up at Obi-Wan over your shoulder, seeing how he was quite unamused with your reaction to him being there, as if you could help it in the slightest. You sighed softly, lifting yourself to your feet, and followed him out into the main room.

Only once the door to Anakin's room was shut did Obi-Wan begin on what you felt was going to be a lecture of sorts.

"You helped him," He began, tired out of his wits and still trying to collect his thoughts on what he saw. "What did you do?"

You weren't quite sure how to answer exactly. You didn't even know what it was called, and you had only found out it was possible upon doing it for the first time just now. You opened your mouth to speak, but when nothing came out you huffed, raising your shoulders along dramatically. It didn't help that your master was standing opposite you, probably growing grumpy at being kept awake longer than he should have to be.

"I heard him and got up to see what was wrong," you sat down onto the chair in the room, your legs feeling too weak to keep standing on. He followed suit, seemingly very interested in your explanation. "He was having more bad dreams, and I didn't want him to wake you again."

"I very much appreciate the sentiment, little one," he sat back, running a hand over his face before he continued, "but I just want to know what you did to calm him."

Oh.

Oh....

"I took them away."

"You took what away?" He sat forward, now; his eyes wider awake than just seconds before at your confession.

"His nightmares. I took away everything bad and left only the good things. I could feel his pain, master... It was horrible," you finished with a frown. You were much wiser now than you had been, your level of understanding had risen significantly, and Obi-Wan knew that when you could feel someone's emotions like that, you always sympathized. Even when you probably shouldn't. It was the light inside you, the wonderful part that was trying to do good by others even if it meant you would bear the brunt of the pain yourself.

"I didn't know you could do that," he tilted his head, as if you would tell him about your profound discovery and how it came about.

"I didn't either. I just couldn't bear him feeling that way anymore."

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling, before he arose to his feet. He held out a hand to help you to yours, but before you parted ways for the night, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"You are a going to be one of the great Jedi in our time, I know it."

"Thank you, Master."

They were about to get out of hand, your nightmares, begun the same night that you drew Anakin's away from his mind and into yours. You thought that maybe you could take it, that perhaps you were strong enough to make them go away. You didn't know that they would culminate into a disastrous combination of your greatest fears and sorrows.

Often you dreamt of those close to you, Obi-Wan, and Anakin. Even Master Yoda made an appearance in your dreams. It was horrible, the way you would almost save them, then they would almost instantly fall to their deaths upon your arrival. Most of the time it was too real to acknowledge as a dream, so you weren't able to wake up like you normally could. You would be screaming their names, over and over, only to be met with silence, and the fact that you were completely and totally alone. Utter devastation was felt in every part of your body, and you would fall to the ground, the last of your strength gone. Your will to keep going never there.

Once you had woken up, it would be a mess of silent tears, and cold sweat running down your back that made your sleeping tunic stick to it in a most uncomfortable way. You would be breathing erratically, as if you hadn't taken an inhale in days. You would always try to be quiet, to calm yourself down enough to think, to tell yourself it was only a dream and that it meant nothing. You only believed yourself the next day, when you saw Obi-Wan in the morning, sitting on his chair and going over his checklist on the holo-pad. You would see Anakin in the hallway and join him down in the communal areas for breakfast and a small conversation.

He knew you had taken his nightmares from him. He told you after the night it happened, he could feel your signature somehow protecting his dreams. He was thankful beyond relief, and so you couldn't possibly share with him about how it affected you. He would want you to give it back. You weren't going to anyways, so you figured it was best not to upset him by it. You kept your conversations natural. Those nightmares were your problem now, and as long as the people you held dear to your heart were alive and well, you would continue to deal with them on your own.

As the weeks passed, they became a dull ache in the back of your mind during the day, only haunting you at night. You began to find a way around them, putting up a block through the force around your mind before bed every night. You only hoped it would continue to work to your advantage.

You were becoming stronger with the force, and with Obi-Wan's training, you would someday help others the way you helped Anakin.

Tags: @spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #ewan mcgregor

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tennessoui · 2 years

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KISSIES! Number 4 for Obikin (I see they list maker has already read KUWSK for accidental kiss inspiration!) And goof luck with the new job!!!

ahh thank you!! i'm currently writing this in between doing things for my job, so have this bit of fluff! (if only in KUWSK obi-wan had realized he'd accidentally kissed anakin at all instead of running away rip)

4. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

(2k)

So Obi-Wan and Anakin kiss now. Sometimes. Well, a lot. Just platonic brushes of lips against temples and cheeks in greeting or goodbye. Every kiss lasts barely longer than a second, and there is absolutely no reason for Obi-Wan to hold his breath every time Anakin leans forward to kiss him or turn his face to the side expectantly for his master's kisses.

It had started out a bit as an accidental stopgap, to be very honest. Sidious had been defeated in the nick of time, Anakin had been left reeling from the betrayal of his friend and mentor--even in his head, Obi-Wan can't help drench that word with all the derision of a wife scorned. Oh, and wife, another revelation in the throes of countless others. Wife, mother, massacre.

Obi-Wan can't pretend his opinion of the fair senator hadn't dropped dangerously low upon hearing from her that she'd been little less than a witness to Anakin's slaughter of the Tusken village and then married him afterwards, acting as judge and jury to his executioner all the while Obi-Wan had been across the galaxy, clueless of just how close his apprentice had come to Falling.

But even he cannot judge her too harshly. Not when he himself had grasped his padawan in a hug just this side of desperate, even after he knew of his atrocities. It's Anakin. It's Anakin.

But that hadn't made it any easier to see him or be around him in the immediate aftermath of the discovery. Anakin had cornered him in the deserted Council Chambers, dawn spilling over his head and turning his golden curls to fire as he glared wetly at Obi-Wan. "You hate me now, you want me to leave, you're disgusted by me, you can't stand the sight of me--"

And for a second, oh, how Obi-Wan wished that were true. But he may never be capable of hating Anakin. "Excuse me," he had thrown back sharply. "As it's taking longer than you'd like to rework my moral code so as to love you still and respect myself at all."

Anakin hadn't liked this much, but then Obi-Wan hadn't thought he would. Of course his padawan would read the rejection in his words before thinking about what it meant that Obi-Wan was willing to bend his entire worldview so as to still hold Anakin dear.

And then, a few nights later, Obi-Wan had cornered Anakin in his quarters. He'd asked him when he planned to leave the Order, to which Anakin had sneered that oh, he'd like that wouldn't he, to which Obi-Wan, at the end of his rope, had grabbed the front of his awful padawan's robes and brought him close enough to grab into his arms.

"Of course not," he'd muttered, grappling with Anakin's struggling figure until the boy goes limp and still against him, allowing himself to be tucked under his chin. "Of course I don't want that. I'm only thinking of your wi--your wants."

"I don't know what I want," Anakin had finally muttered. His hands, Obi-Wan remembers, had fisted into the fabric of his robes. "Can't I have it all?" He'd sounded so young, so--so young that Obi-Wan had not been able to stop himself from pressing a kiss to his temple.

"No," he'd said. "No, I'm sorry, dear one. You cannot. Not this time."

Anakin had sobbed then, and Obi-Wan's heart had broken with him because he knew Anakin would choose a life away from the Order, a family he built instead of the Jedi. Instead of Obi-Wan.

He'd kissed him again, just a hard press against his forehead and then down to his cheekbone. Perhaps he'd been crying as well. He'd never entertained the idea that he would lose Anakin after the end of the war, not really.

His padawan had cried himself to the point of exhaustion eventually, and after several long moments of holding him to his chest--selfishly, for no one else's benefit save for Obi-Wan's peace of mind--he'd let him fall into his bed with one final breathless kiss to his forehead. He'd thought it'd be the last time he'd ever see Anakin, depending on how furious the boy was with him after he left the Order. If Anakin saw his separation from the Jedi as Obi-Wan's own fault, he'd never darken his doorstep again.

So Obi-Wan had taken his time leaving the sleeping Anakin behind. He'd come to tell him that he'd accepted a rushed mission to a previously Separatist controlled planet. It would take weeks.

He'd hoped, privately but ardently, that Anakin would be gone by the time he returned. That his things would be cleared from their joint quarters and he'd already be set up and living on Naboo with his wife so that Obi-Wan would not have to watch him leave.

But that isn't how it happens, and Obi-Wan still doesn't quite understand at all.

He'd come back to the Temple, dragging his feet through the Mid-Rim planets all the way until his ship docked at the hangar bay.

And Anakin had been waiting for him right there, looking torn between prickly delight at seeing him again and irritation, probably for having run out on him earlier. And then Anakin had marched right up to him and clasped his face in both hands, tilting it up and kissing him on the forehead.

Their divorce had been as quiet as their marriage had been, and though Obi-Wan spent the next several months walking around on eggshells around Anakin, the man seems...fine. Perhaps a bit more physically affectionate than he'd ever been before, but he must be able to understand on some level that Obi-Wan won't turn him away--is physically incapable of turning him away.

So now they kiss hello and goodbye and they hold hands a lot and if they're sitting across from each other at the table, one of them will hook his ankle around the other's.

Obi-Wan suspects that these are the sort of casual touches Anakin had gotten from his wife--ex-wife--whenever they saw each other. And he'd touched Ahsoka a lot as well, never the way he and Obi-Wan touch each other now, of course, but there'd still been a constant stream of contact between Anakin and his padawan, Anakin and his men. Now it's just Obi-Wan left who can fill all those absences.

And, a small voice in his head won't let himself forget, Palpatine--Sidious--had been able to get so close to Anakin, had been able to almost win, because he'd been able to convince Anakin that Obi-Wan couldn't be trusted, that Obi-Wan did not particularly care for him.

Even thinking about it brings a sneer to his face and a pang to his heart. Because Anakin hadn't known, hadn't been able to disprove Sidious and perhaps that mistake is Obi-Wan's to bear. After all, it's so obvious now how Anakin softens and flourishes under Obi-Wan's gentle touches, the way he turns his cheek towards him now, the way his force signature bubbles around them in pure joy at the physical affection.

Sometimes Obi-Wan wonders cynically if Anakin would have left the Jedi had Obi-Wan not broken and kissed him that one night.

But it's of no matter.

Just now sometimes they kiss. A lot. No one, Obi-Wan is sure, thinks anything of it except for Obi-Wan himself who cannot stop thinking about it for whatever reason.

And, of course, except for Ahsoka, who calls them both every few days just to check in and say hello and make sure neither of them are being manipulated by any other sith lords.

The first time Anakin had had to leave the call early, he'd brushed a kiss along Obi-Wan's cheekbone as he'd shrugged on his outer robe and left without another word. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan had stared at each other for several long moments of silence.

"Master Kenobi?"

"It's nothing," he had said just as quickly, feeling a burning blush spread across his cheeks. "Just. Working on being more. Open. And affectionate."

"Hm," Ahsoka had replied, crossing her arms. "Well. I'll tell Anakin to be careful with you, Master."

Obi-Wan had spluttered. "Careful with me?" Out of the pair of them, Obi-Wan's the one who didn't massacre a village, didn't get married, didn't lose his padawan, didn't get his arm cut off, didn't almost Fall to the Sith, etcetera etcetera.

But Ahsoka had nodded confidently and ended the transmission only a few minutes later.

And then, only a few weeks later, she'd come to visit the Temple itself. When Anakin had left for Archive duty, he'd dropped a kiss onto the top of Obi-Wan's head and given a friendly wave to Ahsoka.

"He's always the one doing it," she'd pointed out apropos of nothing, several hours later. "Either he kisses you or he, like, asks you to kiss him."

"He's never asked," Obi-Wan had corrected indignantly.

"He tilts his head and the one time you left a call without kissing him, he was in a sulk the rest of the time. Even when we were talking about podracing. Podracing, Master. He loves podracing. Do you know what it means that he didn't want to talk about it?"

Obi-Wan had huffed.

"It means he loves your kisses more than podracing!"

Obi-Wan, in all his maturity and wisdom, had changed the subject rather abruptly.

But that doesn't mean her words don't stay with him through the days and weeks, all the way up until now, this very moment.

The door to their quarters slides open and Anakin looks up at him from the table with an automatic grin. His arm is laying open on the table, and Obi-Wan looks away from it habitually before he remembers that Anakin had told him quite shyly the other week that he didn't care if Obi-Wan saw the mess of his mecho-arm.

He's always the one doing it, Ahsoka's words ring in his ears as he shrugs off his outer cloak and hangs it up by the door. It shouldn't always be Anakin doing it. Obi-Wan should as well. But Obi-Wan is trying. Doesn't anyone care that he's trying? That perhaps constant platonic physical affection does not come naturally to him?

Should they instead be trying to wean Anakin off these kisses, these casual brushes of hands, feet, lips?

The idea has merit, but it isn't one Obi-Wan entertains for long as he turns back to Anakin and stalks closer. He doesn't particularly want to give up the kisses, the touches. They mean that Anakin is here. That Anakin chose him. This. The Order. But him.

But wouldn't it be worse if Anakin starts to think that he is forcing the kisses onto Obi-Wan? How much of an effort can he make? Can either of them make before they have to talk to each other?

Anakin is bent back over his arm by the time Obi-Wan makes it to his side of the table. "Hey, Master," he starts to say, turning his head upwards just as Obi-Wan leans down to kiss his cheek in greeting.

And misses.

Their lips connect and then hold for several seconds where they're both frozen by surprise.

When Obi-Wan moves, he jolts back. Anakin is sitting, arm forgotten as he stares up at Obi-Wan. His lips are tingling slightly and Obi-Wan can't resist the urge to bite at one. Should he apologize? Should he laugh?

And then something that looks a lot like hope begins to spread across Anakin's face as his eyes fall to Obi-Wan's mouth. "Master," he murmurs, sounding borderline worshipful.

Obi-Wan can't take that tone of voice, not from Anakin. He leans forward again and captures his lips. Anakin shudders and presses up and forward, and Obi-Wan can see his eyes fall closed as he lets out the tiniest, most disbelieving little moan.

Perhaps they'll halt the platonic kisses after all, he thinks right before he stops thinking at all.

Or, at least. The platonic bit.

#asks #kiss prompts #lmao not me being like hm i know exactly what i want to do with this lil prompt #what if they kiss each other platonically as an affirmation of their love and affection and presence #and then accidentally get the mouth once #and to be fair i did write that #i was just also like hm lets also give these platonic kisses the power to fix revenge of the sith #and also use this ficlet as a tiny outlet for my tiniest salt levels #also to reiterate i absolute do not think obi-wan is guilty for not giving anakin physical affection in this until later #i just think obi-wan would think that but that is a very unfair way to look at it #especially in a situation where there are no wrongs or rights but anyway #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi

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blackkatmagic · 2 years

Note

Random daydreaming had me imagining Batman and Robin spacio-temporarily displaced into Star Wars (was it aliens? A random space wormhole? The Force? Idk) and Robin (maybe Jason??) gets kidnapped while fighting slavers. Cue Bruce becoming the number one bounty-hunter in the Galaxy (with also the highest warrant against him) with a reputation for having beef against slavery and making Hutts cry, while looking for his missing kid.

My big issue here is that you've infected me with the mad bunny rarepair fever and I don't know which is shiniest, Nico Diath wrecking havoc and comparing notes with Bruce on how to dismantle slaver rings, Jon Antilles & Batman doing the sentient cloak routine while on stakeouts and Jango despairing that his very competent crushes have even worse social skills than him, Depa Billaba and her clone commander about to go on a rampage to find their missing padawan and somehow ending up with a 3 for 1 special and Caleb wanting aaaaall the cool gadgets (Jason really wants a lightsabre), or Bruce objecting to Deathwatch's everything (and severely regretting confiscating the Darksaber from Jason in a public space how Jason got it who knows) and maybe accidentally rebuilding the Wayne business empire on Mandalore because the Trade Federation and co deserve proper competition and Satine and Padmé are terrible devious enablers.

And so on and on and on, and I know you've written X-overs but I haven't started them yet and i'm scared, help Kat, you've made me fall into too many rabbit holes and now I'm stuck in a new one and it's entirely your fault! I just know the next one will also be your fault, I keep getting dragged into new fandoms I had no business in beforehand, and each time it's because of your fantastic writing or whatever is going on in your tumblr 🤣 i just know the next one is gonna be Moon Knight sigh

Queen of rarepair hell I bow to you, you should add Champion of reader's interest harpooning to your title 😭❤❤

xD That sounds like an amazing crossover, and I wish you the best of luck with writing it! Don't let the crossover intimidate you, you're technically its boss and they're a lot easier to deal with than they look once you get the rhythm of things.

#kat answers

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wild-karrde · 2 years

Text

Reunion - Part 21

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: As always, thank you to the lovely @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this chapter for me! :)

“How do I know when it’s working?”

“Talking typically isn’t involved, Omega.”

The young clone huffed a sigh of annoyance. Senna had to bite back the smile threatening to creep across her face at her padawan’s frustration. Meditation hadn’t been her strong suit at first either back when she was a padawan, her mind constantly wandering back to her latest engineering project and what she could tweak on it. She wasn’t certain what was invading Omega’s thoughts, but they’d been at it for nearly an hour, and her padawan hadn’t gone more than ten minutes without asking another question.

The silence resumed between them, and whether or not Senna wanted to admit it, she knew she was struggling as well to quiet her mind today. It had been several days since she and Rex had returned from Cantonica, and she’d made a point to not constantly ask Tech how the cells on his arm were progressing despite her eagerness. The thought of a full life with Rex potentially dangling just out of reach was enough to nearly drive her mad, and she’d hardly slept most nights, laying awake next to Rex’s sleeping form. She’d spent hours watching his chest rise and fall, wondering how many years it would be before she was no longer able to experience just being next to him. Patience. You have to be patient. Despite her internal chiding, she’d still been unable to think of anything else, leaving her mind racing even now. Before she could steady herself and resume her meditation, her thoughts again were once again interrupted, this time by the hiss of the door behind her opening.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Tech apologized as he realized what he’d intruded upon. “I was just coming to speak with you about…” his voice trailed off as his eyes fell on Omega, who was watching him intently.

Senna’a heart soared as she realized what he was going to say. The treatment. He has news, but not in front of Omega. Thinking quickly, she reached out a hand to him, beckoning him towards them. “It’s alright, Tech. We’re not having much luck calming our minds today anyway.”

Tech blinked at her from behind his goggles before he smirked slightly. “I understand. I too struggle to meditate at times.”

That caught Senna off guard, and she couldn’t stop her eyebrow from launching into orbit. “You meditate?”

Tech huffed a slight laugh at her reaction. “Not as regularly as you may be thinking. It was something that started during my time on Naboo with Kestia. The first time she tried to get me to meditate with her, I struggled immensely to quiet my mind. I have since improved the practice substantially and find it’s a good way to calm my mind when I’m unable to solve a problem. It has occasionally helped me find solutions when there did not appear to be any, although I know my meditation is quite different from what you practice as I am unable to connect to the Force.”

Senna chewed her lip for a second before a thought struck her. “Come sit down by me, Tech.”

It was his turn to give her a confused look, but she patted the floor next to her insistently until he obliged, crossing his long legs and resting his elbows on his knees as he set his datapad aside on the floor next to him.

Senna turned back to her padawan. “Omega, I want you to reach out to Tech and I through the Force.”

Omega’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Why?”

“Your meditation practice is you reaching out to commune with the life around you. I’ve just added an additional life form to the equation. See if you can sense Tech, feel his presence in the Force and tell me what you perceive. Tech, feel free to join us in our meditation if you wish.”

Omega took a deep breath, furrowing her brow and closing her eyes as Senna watched. “Relax. This shouldn’t be taxing. It should be as natural as feeling currents and ripples in a pool you’re swimming in.” Some of the wrinkles in Omega’s forehead smoothed out as she attempted to not force the issue, letting her connection do the work for her. Tech bowed his head, allowing his eyes to drift closed behind his goggles.

“He’s…it’s warm.”

Senna smiled. “Yes. It will be. What else?”

“Reddish brown. Like clay sort of. It reminds me of the smell of the forest, the trees, and certain spices I think.”

Senna heard Tech inhale sharply next to her, and she reached out to him through the Force. Her heart broke as she sensed his emotions, his grief renewing as Omega described his signature.

Tech, are you alright?

He nodded, but his breathing was shallow.

Tech.

He turned his head to look at her, and she could see the pain in his eyes.

“It’s…it’s just like Kestia described. That’s how she perceived my presence. And, I can feel Omega reaching out to me. I can feel her Force signature a little. Not as strong as Kestia’s was when she reached out to me, but it’s there,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. Senna reached out her hand and took his, squeezing it gently.

“We can stop.”

“No,” he replied. “No. Let her keep going. It’s pleasant, but it brought up old memories. I’m alright.”

Senna scooted closer to him, pulling his hand into her lap. “Can you perceive what Omega’s signature is like? Like you did with Kes?”

He nodded. “It’s faint, but distinct, like Kestia’s was. A light purple, like the clouds at sunset. Warmth, just like Kes’s. It…it makes me think of freshly fallen snow, if that makes sense.”

Senna leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’d never realized you were able to sense so much of our Force signatures.”

“Only if you reach out to me. I can’t broadcast or perceive you passively, like you see me, if that makes sense,” he stated. “It’s very much one-way.”

Senna nodded before speaking to her padawan. “Very good, Omega. We’ll keep practicing, but if you want to try on your own, I’d recommend finding a place in the forest. It’s always easier to meditate when you’re surrounded with life, and I’d say the jungle is teeming with it. Just don’t go too far.”

Omega’s face lit up. “I may go try now before dinner. I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. And I want to see what all the other Force signatures look like. It’s like a whole different way of seeing things.”

Senna smiled. “Exactly. Tech and I will let Hunter and the others know where you’ve gone. Just don’t stay out past sunset.”

The young clone pushed herself to her feet before rocketing out the door, eager to try out her new skill. Senna turned back to Tech. “I apologize. I didn’t realize that would dredge up such strong memories of Kestia.”

Tech lowered his gaze to where their hands were still locked together. “You know, it never fails to surprise me what instances bring about grief. It’s never what you’d expect. It’s sometimes the smallest, most inconsequential things that bring about a surge of memories. I suppose, I should have guessed this scenario might bring up such feelings, but I thought I had perhaps made more progress than I have.”

Senna repositioned herself so that she was sitting facing Tech, taking his other hand in her cybernetic one. “Would you like to tell me what Kestia’s Force signature felt like?”

Tech took a deep shuddering breath before closing his eyes, hiding the mist that had begun to appear in them. “The first thing I noted about it was the color, a seafoam green. It was calming, perhaps because it reminded me of Kamino’s oceans on the rare sunny days we had. However, the most dominant sensation was its warmth.” He paused, his voice breaking slightly. Senna squeezed his hands gently, rubbing her thumbs across his knuckles. Tech took a deep, stuttering breath. “It…it was like stepping out of a cool, dark building and into the sun. Omega’s feels similar, but it’s a fraction of what Kestia’s was. Hers was…consuming. Not overwhelming, but definitely powerful.”

Senna nodded quietly. “That warmth comes from her alignment. I’ve felt the Dark Side, and it’s physically chilling. Kestia may have been passionate and reckless at times, but above all, she was good. Kind, empathetic, and loving.”

Tech swallowed hard. “She was.”

The two of them sat in silence for a few more moments before Tech wet his lips, raising his eyes to meet hers. “I hope you realize you’re doing a wonderful job training Omega.”

Senna huffed a laugh in response. “Not so sure about that, but I’m doing my best. I wish I had the wisdom of my peers and the other masters to consult when I struggle, but I’ll have to be enough.”

“Have you considered speaking with Ahsoka?”

Anakin’s former padawan had taken off a rotation after they’d returned from Cantonica, eager to track down Gungi and see if she could find any additional Jedi in hiding. Rex had been nervous about letting her go again, and while Senna had reassured him as much as she could that Ahsoka would be fine, she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t share some of his concern. She’s so young and carries so much weight.

The Jedi Master rubbed the back of her neck. “Thought about it, but I’m not sure how she’ll feel. Ahsoka felt betrayed by the Order, and I can hardly say I blame her. I’m still trying to figure out how to broach the topic with her. I don’t want to apply pressure or make her feel like she has some sort of obligation to do this, particularly with everything that’s happened and the risk it carries.” She sighed, tucking a few flyaways from her braid behind her ear. “There are so few of us left. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by training Omega at all.”

“Giving her control over her abilities cannot be a bad thing. And while I understand your misgivings about asking Ahsoka, I believe based on what I’ve observed that she would be glad to offer advice should you ask for it. From everything I’ve understood about the Jedi, your peers become your adoptive family, and that component of Omega’s training is something I’m sure you feel is missing. I think having us all be involved has served as an excellent replacement for the camaraderie she may have found at the temple. We may not be Force sensitive, but we are a family of sorts here, and I believe Omega will appreciate it later in life, even if she doesn’t immediately recognize its value right now.” He released her hands, resting his palms on her shoulders. “Mentorship is not a skill that can be taught, Master Atiniir, but for what it’s worth, I think it comes quite naturally to you. Even your doubts of your own abilities indicate how much you care, and I can’t say I consider that a bad thing as long as you do not allow it to inhibit you.”

Senna felt her stomach twist with emotion, and she nodded appreciatively at Tech’s words before she gently pressed her forehead against his. “Thanks, Tech. I think I needed to hear that.” She stood, pulling Tech to his feet as well. “Come on. Let’s go track down some food before we meet with Rex and the others.”

Suddenly, Senna remembered why Tech had initially been seeking her out. “Wait. You said you had something to speak to me about. I’m guessing it’s the treatment.”

Tech’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I know you’ve been anxious about it. It’s obvious any time we’re around each other. I wanted to let you know that I don’t have an update for you because I haven’t removed the bandages to check.” He adjusted his goggles nervously, and Senna was surprised at the way he seemed to share her anxiety. It wasn’t something she was used to seeing from Tech. “I too am eager to see the results, but what I’ve promised myself is that I will not remove the bandage on my arm until the full two week period has completed. I fear trying to peek under it may…impact the results.”

“Or give you false hope,” Senna said quietly.

He nodded. “Or that. Yes.” He rolled up his sleeve, running his fingers over the bandaged area. “Too much rides on this for it to be impacted in some way due to my impatience. I never realized how much I desired to live a longer life until this possibility presented itself. I’d never really considered what it would mean.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “The thought of spending more time with those I care about, getting to watch Omega grow up, even the chance of perhaps finding love again if I’m ever ready to try. Those are all things that become possible if this treatment is successful. Not to mention what it could mean to you and Rex.”

Senna reached out, gripping his bandaged arm gently and rubbing her thumb over the patch on his skin. “I understand. And I appreciate you telling me. I figured you didn’t have an update, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to ask. Having a firm date of when we’ll know helps I suppose.” Her eyes burned with tears as she considered what Tech had said, how he knew what this would mean for her and Rex. It warmed her heart. “And again, thank you for this. You’re right on how important this is, to all of us. But if it doesn’t work, we’ll be no worse off than we are now. It’ll be alright,” she said quietly. Senna didn’t mean the words completely. She would be far from alright if this failed, but she hoped he was convinced. It was clear to her that Tech was already putting an immense amount of pressure on himself for this to work, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel as though he’d failed her and Rex somehow if things didn’t work out.

As his eyes met hers again, it was clear he understood what she was trying to do. “You’re right,” he said softly. “But now that I’ve considered what’s possible, I’m not sure I could be satisfied with anything other than success.”

---

“There’s no way you’re going without me.”

Rex sighed as he ran his hand over his hair, which had been returned to its normal shade of blonde thanks to some sort of shampoo Sabé had come up with. Rex couldn’t deny he’d been glad to see a more familiar face staring back at him from the mirror, even if it meant the return of his grey hairs. He hoped that grey would give him some sort of authority now as he sighed in frustration at Fives’s demand.

“Fives, you’ve barely physically recovered from your first round in the Empire’s custody. You can’t seriously think I’m about to ask you to risk going right back to that tube.”

Fives glared at his captain stubbornly. “You’re not asking, but I’m telling you I’m going with you.”

Rex turned to look at Senna where she was leaning against the wall. He could see she shared his concerns, but she also understood Fives’s position, as he did. He’s a soldier first, and I know saving Wolffe holds the same significance for him that it does for me. Perhaps more after what he’s been through.

“We’re taking a small force, Fives. Just me, Senna, Echo, and maybe Tech.”

“I’d say let’s leave Tech here. Just take Fives and Echo,” Senna suggested. Rex gave her a questioning look before turning to look at Tech. The goggled clone and Senna exchanged a glance that Rex couldn’t interpret before Tech shrugged.

“I do have several things I am working on back here that require my attention. I would not mind the reprieve. Besides, I would argue Fives’s ARC training may come in handy. You’ll already have a technical specialist in Senna, so my expertise is hardly necessary.” Rex glanced at Senna. She met his gaze briefly before shrugging, but he could see there was something else. She’d been distracted the last few days, ever since she’d gone to see Tech when they first returned, and he hadn’t pressed her on what it was yet, but he was growing progressively more curious, particularly with this suggestion to keep Tech at the base. They’re scheming, but I’m not sure about what, which is probably the most concerning part.

“The Perilous is still in orbit around Coruscant, right?” Fives asked, rolling forward in the briefing and leaving Rex no room for argument.

Senna glanced at the datapad in her hand again. “Biotracker is still pinging from there, but we’ve only got a few more rotations before it works its way out of the admiral’s bloodstream. We can’t afford to wait around much longer.”

Echo stepped forward. “We should head to Coruscant as soon as possible then. First thing tomorrow. Have someone drop us off there and go. It’s going to take almost half a rotation just to get there, even on the fastest hyperspace lane. The planet’s surface is still pretty easily accessible from everything our spies tell us. Just need to have fake chain codes on us in case we hit a checkpoint. Once we arrive planetside, there should be more than enough Imps around to steal uniforms from and get on a shuttle up to the Perilous.”

Rex stroked his chin. “Maybe so, but then we’ll have to depend on finding a ship to get back here.”

Echo nodded. “It’s a risk, but I don't know how else you do it. You can’t fly the Marauder into a star destroyer’s hangar. We may be able to mask its signature, but the sight of an old Omicron-class attack shuttle parking in a hangar will definitely raise some questions. Plus we’d have to see if we can track down some clearance codes, and I don’t think we’ve got that kind of time.”

Rex considered it for a moment before ultimately drawing the same conclusion. Senna stepped forward. “From what our spies on Coruscant are reporting, it’s likely there are more than enough options for us to choose from once we get aboard the Perilous. It’s supposed to be carrying plenty of fighters, freighters, and shuttles. When we get to Coruscant, I can find someone to chat with and either get clearance codes, or better yet, get someone to give us a lift up in a shuttle.”

“You think they’ll just agree?” Fives teased, but his smile faltered when he glanced at Rex’s hardened expression. The captain opened his mouth to protest, but Senna waved her hand dismissively.

“It’ll be fine Rex. I don’t have qualms about doing what needs to be done to get Wolffe back.” She turned to Fives, answering the question he was clearly waiting to ask. “I can use the Force to manipulate people’s minds when I need to. I’ve gotten information before when needed. Pulled a similar trick on Naboo to get onboard a destroyer there.”

Fives’s eyes widened, but for once, he seemed to know better than to crack a joke.

“Once we get on the destroyer, I should be able to slice into their systems and find where Wolffe is being kept,” Echo continued, pacing in the small room as he brought up a holo of the Perilous that their spies had provided. “I’m guessing the detention level will be in the lower aft portion of the ship, likely a fair distance from the hangars, but if we can snag some disguises, perhaps we can make it in and out without being caught.”

Rex noted Senna stiffened slightly. He turned to look at her, and she sighed. “If the Sith lord is onboard, I may endanger things. He’ll be able to sense my presence.” She turned quickly to face Rex, her eyes burning into him with the determination he’d come to love and resent at times. “You’re not sidelining me, though.”

“Senna-”

“Look, I’m still after information about that superweapon. Maybe I can split off from you and try to access their data banks to see if they’ve got any additional information that might prove useful. That way, if Vader is there, then he’ll be drawn to me, away from you.”

“Are you insane?” Rex asked incredulously. “You really think I’m going to let you act as bait for a Sith? Absolutely not.”

Senna glared at him. “Without me, you don’t get aboard that ship.”

“Then we’ll think of something else.”

“Rex, there isn’t time. Like I said, the biotracker is only going to work for a few more rotations, and then we’ll be out of luck. We won’t get another opportunity like this again.”

Rex went to argue further, anger swelling in his chest before Echo gently placed a hand on his arm. “As much as I hate to agree, I think she’s right, Rex. We don’t have time to come up with other ideas or opportunities. We need her to get us some Imperial pilots if we want to get up to the Perilous. This is our best option, and Senna’s got to be a part of it.”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Rex knew they were right, as much as he hated it. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong, we abort. Immediately. And then we’ll have our spies keep an eye out for the Perilousand try again at a later time once we track it down. It’ll be hard to permanently lose a ship that size.”

Senna nodded, apparently satisfied. “We head out tomorrow then. First light.”

“Roger that,” Fives said, grinning like a fool as he slapped Echo on the shoulder. “Just like old times.”

Echo was trying to be stern, but lost the battle with the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “We need to find you something to cover your face. Let’s head to the armory.”

“What and rob the galaxy of this visage?” Fives asked, pouting as he pointed at his face.

Echo rolled his eyes. “The galaxy will find a way to carry on. It’s managed the last few years without being subjected to your mug.”

Fives shoved him in the back, sending him stumbling out the door. “Yeah, and the Empire showed up while I was gone. Not saying all of that’s related, but-”

“Correlation is not the same as causation,” Tech muttered as he followed after them. Fives glared at him.

“I don’t know what that means, so I’m just going to assume you’re agreeing with me.”

Rex could hear Tech sigh deeply as the three pairs of footsteps receded down the hallway. Senna was leaning over the holotable, studying the image of the Perilous. Rex stepped closer, watching as she zoomed in on various sections of the holo, studying the ship’s external layout.

“Something you want to ask me, captain?” she asked, her voice slightly accusatory.

“Why do you want Tech to stay here?”

Senna didn’t meet his gaze. “Like he said, he has things to work on.”

Rex huffed a dry laugh. “Things to work on. You care to elaborate?”

“Not at this time.”

“Senna.” She paused, finally locking her eyes onto his. He could see some conflict swirling in her blue irises, her teeth digging into her lower lip. Closing the space between them, he cupped her face, running his thumb over her lower lip to stop her gnawing. “No more secrets. No more carrying things on your own. You promised me.”

Senna’s forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows knit together. “I know,” she sighed, leaning into his touch as her hand slid up to cover his. “Tech is looking into something for me, and I’d rather not talk about it in case it isn’t successful. Don’t want to get hopes up unnecessarily. I know that’s not the detailed answer you’re hoping for, but is that acceptable at least for now? If it works out, I promise you’ll be the first person I tell.”

Rex studied her face, his eyes searching for some clue as to whether she was downplaying what was bothering her. He could see that she was trying to keep her emotions in check, but something about her expression led him to believe the secret wasn’t harming her. Not a burden weighing on her necessarily, but something she is thinking about a lot.

“It won’t distract you on this mission? I’m not asking as your husband-to-be; I’m asking as the person that’ll be standing next to you if everything goes to hell, as it tends to do.” He stroked her cheek. “Can you promise me that this won’t cause issues?”

She finally gave him a small smile. “I can promise that. It’s something I just have to be patient about.”

Rex chuckled softly. “Well, we both know that’s not something you’re very good at.”

Senna rolled her eyes before giving him a playful shove to his chest. He caught her wrist, pulling her into him. She let loose a surprised giggle as their bodies collided, Rex slipping his arms around her waist as he smiled down at her before placing a kiss to her forehead. Senna sighed into his touch before resting her head against his shoulder.

“We’ll find him, Rex. We’ll bring Wolffe home.”

“I’m sure we will,” Rex said with more certainty than he felt. The plan seemed straightforward enough, but those were always the ones that seemed to fall apart the easiest. “I just hope we can do it without too much risk or bloodshed.”

He felt her squeeze him a little tighter.

“Me too,” she said quietly.

Tag List: @misogirl88

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ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing · 2 years

Note

For the WIP game, knight Anakin in ER :)

Hello Friend!

So this one is Knight Anakin in __ Reality. What does the E stand for? Well your guess is pretty much as good as mine. But I can at the very least tell you the premise XD.

So this is in which Anakin is a knight with a huge crush on his master and although he tries to garner his attention, it seems to fall on deaf ears.

Then somehow (and I haven't quite decided how yet, Obi-Wan from another reality -where Obi-Wan does start a relationship with him- gets transported to Anakin's timeline, and while he doesn't quite understand Anakin is in love with any Obi-Wan from any timeline and so when Obi-Wan makes a move on him, Anakin let's things happen.

Then Anakin's Obi-Wan proceeds to get jealous of Alternate!Obi-Wan.

Snippet below the cut.

This is the WIP Game that this is from.

It wasn’t fair.

He’d just left as if Anakin didn’t know exactly where the man was going. Of course, the first chance Obi-Wan had had to escape his former padawan he’d taken and Anakin was just so karking tired of it.

Like Anakin couldn’t tell from the look that Obi-Wan gave to someone when they were on a mission exactly what Obi-Wan was planning on doing later- or rather, who he would be doing later.

It was embarrassing, that everyone in the entire galaxy seemed to know how desperately Anakin wished to be with his master and yet his master chose anyone but Anakin.

“You’re his padawan,” Darra had explained to him one night as they sparred. Anakin had sweat running down his back but he refused to let up. He had to stay in shape. He’d seen the way that Obi-Wan had eyed the imposing looking man on Dantooine and if he could only look like that maybe Obi-Wan would look his way, just this once.

“What does that have to do with it?” Anakin asked moodily, swinging again to perry the man’s blow. Darra was a good sparring partner but Anakin was better and at this point if he’d been putting his full concentration into it he wouldn’t have any problem winning and they both knew it.

“He’s never going to see you as someone he wants to be with when he spent years cleaning up your snot,” Darra countered, “A partner is someone that you want to have sex with Skywalker. Who would want to have sex with someone they raised?”

“That’s not true!” Anakin bit out, “I- I just need to figure out what to do! I’ll get him to notice me!”

“Good luck with Master Quinlan back,” Darra told him, his face skeptical, “They’ve been kark buddies since like forever. And they’re both old as dirt. Why don’t you go for someone who is interested in you? There are plenty of people that would want you in their beds.”

Anakin lashed out, striking Darra’s lightsaber hard enough that it fell from her hand and she put her hands up in surrender.

“I don’t want anyone else,” Anakin told her seriously, “Just Obi-Wan.”

But Obi-Wan was most certainly in the arms of someone else right now and Anakin was-. Well, Anakin wasn’t actually sure where he was if he were being honest. It was a planet that he’d never actually been to and he could hear his master scolding him about paying attention to his surroundings but there was something- some warm golden thread- that was pulling at him, telling him where to go and he followed it diligently until he was standing in front of a ship, blinking at the familiarity of it.

It almost looked just like-.

“There you are.”

#asks #WIP Game #wip tag game #wip ask game #musicsoul1982

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weepylucifer · 3 years

Text

Tosses another dinluke at you. This one’s about caring for each other

Luke awakens from uneasy sleep filled with nightmares, and immediately can tell that today is going to be terrible.

The occasional phantom pain in his wrist, that he can take. The old, flaring ache, the strange feeling that the hand is still there, which somehow makes both wearing and not wearing the prosthetic feel uncomfortable - well, it’s a drag, but it’s only one part of his body. With meditation to aid him, he finds he can usually sequester it off, away from the rest of him, and go through his day more or less like normal. But sometimes, each and every scar caused by the Force lightning clamors in pain, especially when he’s been dreaming about how he got them. This is the worst, because he hasn’t found a good way to cope with it yet. He can’t make the pain stop, and it’s driving him up the walls.

There’s no way he can teach his padawan like this.

Fortunately, Grogu’s father is visiting, and will probably be more than happy to entertain the kid for a day.

Luke hasn’t gotten the measure of the Mandalorian yet. He talks little, projects an aura of intimidation, being covered in armor all over like that, but he seems very attached to his child, so attached that Luke reckoned upon getting Grogu that breaking their bond would do a lot more harm than good. He’s come over for a few visits to far, and he practically curls over Grogu like a loth-cat over its young. But Luke doesn’t exactly know anything about him besides that.

Also, it’s dawned on Luke that he knows nothing about Mandalorians. He knows Boba Fett is one, but that’s pretty much it.

So he’s not exactly comfortable admitting his plight to the man. What if he perceives it as weakness? So when he emerges from his bedroom to greet him, he is brief, almost curt, making himself speak through the pain.

“I’m sorry, but there’ll be no lesson today. Can you just watch Grogu for me? I’m... something else has come up.”

The Mandalorian looks... like an expressionless helmet on a suit of armor. But his voice betrays some surprise when he says, “Um, yeah. Sure. Not a problem.”

He’s justified in his surprise; Luke has never cancelled Grogu’s lessons before. “Thanks,” Luke says and repeats, “Sorry this is on such short notice.”

The last thing he sees before beating his retreat back to his room is Grogu cooing and reaching a little hand out towards him in concern, doubtlessly feeling in the Force that something is amiss with Luke. He closes the door but can still hear the Mandalorian reassuring the kid to the best of his ability, “Sorry, buddy, your bajuri seems to be busy. No floating stuff today.”

Grogu emits the sad coo again.

“Hey, it’s okay. Wanna go to the pond and look for frogs?”

...

“We can take the Phoenix over there.”

A happy squeak tells Luke that the plan has met approval.

“You like flying with the jetpack, huh? Yeah, me too.”

Their voices recede, Grogu babbling happily and his father talking back pretending to understand him, and then the temple is silent. It dawns on Luke that the Mandalorian is attractive, the juxtaposition between the gleaming armored fighter and the father so gentle with his kid intriguing. The thought is brutally cut short by another sharp flash of searing pain.

He whines and flings himself onto his bed, curling up and tugging at his hair with both hands, hoping beyond reason that the pain in his scalp will distract him from the pain in his everywhere else.

Luke has been trying on and off to meditate or at least nap for several hours, when he hears a knock at the door. It can only be Mando.

“Um. Master Jedi?”

The Mandalorian has never asked Luke’s name, maybe he reckons Luke goes by his self-assumed title, just like he seems perfectly comfortable going by Mando. Yes?, Luke wants to ask, but he’s scared it’ll come out an undignified whimper.

“I made some dinner for the kid,” the Mandalorian continues. Is it dinner already? “I thought maybe you’d want some, so I’ll leave it out here.”

Luke blinks at the door. He wasn’t expecting this.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it, it’s, ah. Aruetiise usually find our cooking too spicy. So I made some bread to go with it, it. Helps. With the spice. I used some stuff from your storage for it, hope that’s okay.”

The silence persists.

“Putting it down now. Okay. Good luck with your... Jedi business.”

There’s a sound of, indeed, something being placed on the floor, then footsteps walking away.

Luke opens the door. There is a tray of food waiting for him. An amazingly delicious smell wafts from it and his stomach growls loudly, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten today.

So this man can cook. This man baked bread for him. Luke tries to imagine him, in the kitchen, doing that. Maybe he put Luke’s apron on over the armor. The thought makes him giggle for the first time today. Truly Grogu’s father is full of surprises.

It’s already getting dark out when Luke carries his empty plate back to the temple’s little kitchen. He finds Mando there with Grogu on his lap, as always in complete armor, simply watching as Grogu plays with a small silver ball.

Luke clears his throat. “Hi,” he says eloquently and carries his plate to the sink.

The Mandalorian nods in greeting. “All done in there?”

“Not exactly.” Somehow, Luke can feel Mando refocus on him, even through the helmet. He knows he must look rumpled, his hair mussed, his face drawn, and using one of his robes as a shawl. He wishes he had the ability to suffer more attractively, or at least the energy to make himself up a bit.

He sighs and sits down at the table with them. Somehow he feels like, as fair payment for the meal, the Mandalorian deserves his honesty in return. “Full disclosure, I wasn’t doing... Jedi stuff in my room. I just... I’m unwell.”

“Oh.” For some reason, Mando’s head tilts towards Grogu. It becomes apparent why when he asks, “Anything catching?”

“No. No, Grogu will be fine.” Luke folds his hands on the tabletop. Well, he’s already at it being honest. “Do you ever get the feeling of... old scars, hurting again? Like they’re new?”

“Your hand?” the Mandalorian asks. Ah, of course, he’s perceptive, he’s noticed the fake hand.

“Not just the hand. Everywhere. All over.” Luke grits his teeth as his nerves alight again along the lightning patterns. Maker, he hates this. It’s like the shrivelled old prune continues to torture him from beyond the grave.

“All over?” Mando repeats. The helmet’s modulator dulls emotion, but Luke guesses it’s concern he hears.

“Yeah. Look.” Following a sudden impulse, he gets up and shucks his robe, unbuttons his shirt and slips that off too. “Here, see?” He turns himself this way and that, catching the warm lamplight. “And yes, they go all the way down.”

Helmet or no, he can hear the Mandalorian’s breath catch. His hand, the one that’s not keeping Grogu from tumbling off his lap, twitches... rises... reaches out... Luke keeps himself very still. For a breath or two, he thinks that if the Mandalorian were to touch him, trace the lightning bolts on his torso with his gloved hand, then he might feel better. Might be soothed.

The hand is lowered to the table again as if embarrassed. Luke lets out his breath and tries not to slump in disappointment. “I’ve never seen scarring like that before,” the Mandalorian says. “And I’ve seen my fair share.”

“Force lightning,” Luke explains, before remembering that his companion knows nothing about the Force. “A Sith torture technique.”

“You were tortured?” Mando asks, then amends, “You don’t have to tell me.”

Luke sits back down, hugging his knees to his chest. “Pffft. It’s not like I’m not already thinking about it.” He rubs his hands down his arms at another shiver of pain. “The Emperor did this. When I went to confront him on the second Death Star.”

“It was you on the Death Star?” the Mandalorian asks.

“Yeah. The Emperor wanted me to join the dark side. I refused. I had no idea he’d just start frying me with lightning. I had no idea this was something the Force could even do.”

“But then you... killed the Emperor?” The Mandalorian is clearly guessing, and Luke finds himself astonished that there’s someone out there still who doesn’t know the whole Luke Skywalker Saga.

“I did not,” he says. “My father killed the Emperor. All I did was lie on the ground and be tortured.” He picks at his wrist where the synthetic skin joins the organic. “I’m not even bitter about that. It ended up saving my father’s soul. But sometimes, I have nightmares about it, you know? And in those dreams, my father... doesn’t help me. He just stands and stares at me and that’s worse than the pain. Because, when it actually happened, there was... a moment when I thought he wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t care and he’d watch me die. For a moment there, I lost hope, and that’s the worst of it really, knowing that about myself.”

“Why was... your father on the Death Star?” the Mandalorian asks, and huh, apparently he hasn’t heard about the Luke-and-Vader-connection either.

“It’s a long story,” Luke says, because it is, and he’s tired. His scars still hurt, not in these sudden flashes anymore, but as a pulsing, bone-deep, constant ache. But his chest feels a bit lighter for having talked about it.

The Mandalorian now gestures at said chest, instead of asking for the story again. “Can you take painkillers for those?”

Luke shakes his head. “They don’t help much. The pain’s in here.” He taps his temple. “I’ve just been trying to sleep it off, but it hurts too much to get to sleep.”

Mando hisses out a breath, and Luke is by this point fairly certain he’s commiserating. “Phew. Sounds like you need a drink.”

This makes Luke laugh, and he appreciates that. “You know, I’d love a drink, actually.”

After Grogu is put to bed, Luke gets a glass of spotchka and Mando’s company (he tilts the helmet off just far enough to free his mouth in quick, almost furtive gestures and takes tiny sips). His head’s starting to feel pleasantly swimmy when he says, “You know, I’ve just bared all my troubles to you - well, not all, but some, and pretty hefty ones - and yet I know... three facts about you, maybe.”

“Hmm. Yeah, that doesn’t seem fair,” the Mandalorian says amusedly. “What would you like to know?”

“Your name would be a good start,” Luke suggests.

The way the Mandalorian fidgets with his glass, he looks almost flustered. “Ah... Din. Din Djarin.”

“Luke Skywalker.” Luke grins and reaches across the table, ignoring the pinpricks of pain up his arm, to grip Mando’s - Din’s - hand. “It’s nice to have met you, Din Djarin.”

-----

In the following months, these flare-ups return occasionally, but none in such intensity. Luke knows that it’s only a matter of time, though. He’s beginning to suspect that this might stay with him forever. But he’s not as horrified at the prospect as he once was, after talking about it to Din and being neither judged nor pitied. After Din didn’t look at him worried like Leia, or attempted clumsily to walk on eggshells around the topic like Han, and didn’t think less of Luke, and didn’t act like Luke’s admittance to his issues tarnished some sort of larger-than-life image of the glowing Jedi hero. How odd it is to think of a future that has someone in it he can rely on in such an uncomplicated manner. He hasn’t had anyone in his life to rely on - or dared to think of himself as needing this - since... well, since Aunt Beru, probably.

During these months, Grogu has steadily progressed in his studies. Din has visited the temple with some regularity, but Luke has yet to get used to him. How could he, when there’s so much new and exciting to discover about Din still? He finds himself looking forward to these visits, and missing Din when absent, almost as much as Grogu does. Din can only ever stay a few days at once, and Departure Day is a sad one for all two inhabitants of the makeshift Jedi school. (Luke’s not sure what Din does when he’s not here. It can’t be so important, right? Surely not more important than spending time with Grogu? Than talking to Luke?)

This time, though, when Din shows up at the agreed-upon time, it’s weird. He speaks even less than usual, he seems to retreat into his armor even more, he opts to sleep in his ship instead of one of the many empty bedrooms in the temple that Luke has yet to fill with more students. And he barely holds or even touches Grogu, and that tips Luke off. These other observations he could chalk up to paranoia and his own desire to coax Din out of his (figurative!) shell. But that last one tells him that something is off.

Grogu can feel it too, and confusion and worry is seeping off of him into the Force. Luke tries to calm him and get him to sleep, but in the morning, Grogu’s still a bit anxious, and their collective worry mounts when breakfast passes by and Din fails to emerge from his ship. The two of them are reflecting their worry back off each other, and it’s getting aggravating, so Luke gets up and resolves to investigate.

“Okay, Grogu, can you go in the garden and play with Artoo? I’ll go look what’s up with your dad.”

Grogu immediately calms now that he knows the matter is being taken care of, and it warms Luke’s heart to see how much the kid has grown to trust him.

He gains entrance to the ship - it’s not the same one that Grogu has shared memories of with him, but similar enough in layout. The cockpit is empty, so he descends down a narrow ladder into what probably passes for crew quarters here. Peering around a corner, he finds Din hunkered down with his back against the durasteel wall, his threadbare cape wrapped around him as a blanket. He hasn’t noticed Luke come in yet, and that’s wrong in and of itself, and he’s shivering so hard it makes his beskar rattle slightly. As Luke lays eyes on him, he breaks into a horrid wet cough beneath the helmet, the modulator rendering it rasping and metallic.

Okay, something must be done.

“Din?” Luke asks, peeking his head out into open view. “It’s Luke, I’m in here now. You sound like my dad, kriffing-- how long has it been like this?”

Din’s head whips around in Luke’s direction, and he probably only doesn’t flinch because he’s trained to not flinch at things. “I’m fine,” he claims - outrageously lying - and tries to drag himself to his feet, hands bracing against the wall behind him.

Luke is already rushing to his side. “No, no, just stay down. There, that’s right, just sit. Are you wounded? Sick?”

Din tilts his head back against the wall. “Not wounded.”

“Well, that’s... good.” Luke squats next to him, unsure how to proceed. In the Force, he can feel exhaustion and pain radiating off of Din, but that doesn’t tell him what exactly is wrong. He tries to touch his wrist and, of course, meets beskar.

“Din, I realize this might be a... big ask, but can you remove your helmet so I can check your temperature?”

A stuttering sigh comes out through the modulator. “I don’t...”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Luke hurries to add. “It’ll just be for a few seconds. Oh, oh I have a blindfold back at the temple! I can run back and get it.”

Din shakes his head. “It’s okay. You’ve seen it before.” He reaches a shaking hand up and with a hiss, the locks on the helmet disengage. He slides it up and off and Luke takes in his face. It’s flushed, his hair matted and sweaty, his eyes bleary, and yet. It’s as attractive as Luke remembers.

Shaking these thoughts off, because there certainly are more important things now, Luke reaches out and puts his ungloved hand on Din’s forehead.

“You’re burning up,” he hisses. “I’m taking you back to the temple, I have medicine there.”

He’s already in the process of wrapping an arm around Din’s torso to help him up when Din shakes his head. “No. Gotta stay here.” His speech is washed out, his eyes glassy, and Luke’s concerned he’s not talking sense.

“You’ll be more comfortable at the temple.”

Din tries to brush him off with alarmingly feeble hands. “No. The kid.”

Ah. “I don’t think Grogu can catch anything off of you. Different species and all that.”

“You don’t know.”

Well, strictly speaking, Luke doesn’t. Yoda never mentioned anything like that. For a moment, Luke looks around the room, but his old mentor’s ghost is unhelpfully absent. He settles for promising, “I’ll make sure he keeps his distance.”

Din shakes his head again. “Kid’s going to...” He’s interrupted by another coughing fit. “...try to heal me. Don’t want him to overdo it.”

Even miserably sick, Din’s first concern is for the child. It makes something warm swell in Luke’s chest, and he realizes with no small start that Oh, this might be something a lot more than attraction he’s dealing with.

It doesn’t matter now. “I’ll make sure Grogu doesn’t overtax himself then. I’m his teacher, it’s what I’m here for.” Not at home to any more protests, Luke uses the Force to help him lift Din up in his arms. “Try to have a little faith in me, okay?”

“I’m fine here on my own,” Din insists.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Luke says distractedly as he starts off towards the exit ramp, bridal-carrying a whole Mandalorian warrior.

Din is not cooperative, doing his damndest to make himself a dead weight. “I’m Mand’alor,” he mutters, eyes half-closed. “I don’t have to take that tone from you.”

Luke doesn’t know what that word means. Maybe it’s a special type of Mandalorian. He’ll ask later, if he remembers. “Right now, you’re sick, that’s all,” he says, taking them at a brisk pace back to the temple. “You need attention.”

Din’s answer is a displeased groan. “My own damn fault for taking off the helmet.”

In the moment, Luke wonders if he means that in a metaphysical sort of way, like he’s being punished by the ancient Mando gods for his heresy. He’ll later discover that it’s much more prosaic than that: Din has worn the helmet since he was a child, and it’s protected him amiably against any airborne diseases. Now that he’s decided to start taking if off occasionally amongst other people, his immune system is being thrown into a panic by all these new unfiltered things to be breathed in, and he has prompty caught some kind of space flu.

For now, he gets Din into bed, armor and all, and heads for the ‘fresher and the aid kit he stashed there.

Din is burning.

Din is glacier-cold.

He sleeps irregularly in this soft bed he doesn’t recognize, and wakes himself with fits of coughing. He gropes for lucidity and gives up on it again in intervals. At some point, someone took his helmet - no, he remembers taking it off, or was that a dream? He has a memory of being carried in somebody’s arms, but who would carry him in full beskar? Who would care to? He’s not on his ship and he’s not alone and this is wrong. He’s been sick before, even with the helmet: from infected wounds or bad food or bad water or being out in harsh weather too long during a job. He’s always ridden it out by himself, if he was too far off to stumble his way back to the covert. But this isn’t the covert - that’s long gone, isn’t it? - and someone is here.

The person, at some point, helps him sit up and removes his armor, and Din would panic - does - but the person’s hands on him are gentle, and there’s some voice telling him that “It’s just to make you more comfortable, I’m putting it right next to the bed, I’m not taking it away, see? It’s right here waiting for you” and he’s too exhausted to put up a fight, and why would they lie? If they wanted the beskar for themselves they would’ve killed him already. But the person doesn’t. The person gives him water when he’s coughed his throat raw. The person drapes a blanket over him, which he shucks off during the hot spells only to grope for it again during the cold ones. The person puts a hand on his forehead and it’s even more cool and soothing than the damp cloth they also provide.

At some point, the person puts something in the bed with him - some alive thing, some small and fussy thing, some important thing with small green claws and wide moon eyes and large ears that are the softest thing that Din’s ever touched. He reaches out for it on instinct, just to pet the downy white hairs on its little head, and the person’s voice says from somewhere far above, “Okay, Grogu, I promised your father to take this slow. We’ll do this gradually, so you don’t tire yourself. You understand? Small healing. Easy.”

The small and precious thing makes a displeased sound, and Din wants to soothe it again. The voice replies, “I know how you feel, I know you want to fix it all right now, but I promised, okay? Your father will be very disappointed in me if we don’t do this just like he’d have it. And we don’t want that, hm?”

Din hears a coo close to his ear, feels a tiny, three-clawed hand touching him, and then there’s a sudden warmth spreading in his chest, not like the clammy heat of the fever but different, pleasant. Suddenly it seems easier to lie back and get some real, truly restful sleep, and this he does.

This instance repeats several more times, over days, until there is a point at which Din wakes - still sore, shaky, and with his muscles aching from having trembled so much - but with the fever broken and his head clear enough to string a coherent thought together.

He’s vaguely aware of a warbling voice a short distance away that he can’t quite yet discern. The room is dim, with only a singular lamp by his bedside spreading a warm light. There is a window above the bed but no light is coming in. It must be late in the evening - Grogu’s bedtime, is what Din’s inner alarm clock tells him without fail. And indeed, when he raises his head, he spots a small crib across the room that can only be Grogu’s, and Luke is there, rocking it in gentle motions. It is him who’s doing the crooning - singing Grogu to sleep, Din realizes abruptly. As he focuses, the lullaby slowly starts to make some sense: it’s in Bocce, which Din is about as conversant in as Tusken. He’s actually heard the tune before; it’s a nonsensical little ditty that settlers on Tatooine sing to their children.

He stretches out an arm and points a shaky finger at Luke.

“Hick,” he accuses, his voice gritty like he gargled a mouthful of sand.

Luke spins around, his blue eyes widening. “If you’re trying to insinuate that only sand-encrusted, desert-dwelling hicks speak Bocce,” he says, “then you are correct.” He smiles. “It’s good to see you back with us.”

“You’re from Tatooine,” Din says, and wonders why this is so important to him. Maybe it’s because learning things about Luke is like putting a puzzle together. There’s somehow a whole bunch of people that Luke is - he’s fascinating, he’s vexing, he’s confusing, and Din has no idea why he’s this interested in the first place. Well, he does have some clue, but it’s best not dwelled upon. Luke has his Creed and his life, Din has his wholly different Creed and life, and it’s not like the interest can be mutual anyway.

Or can it? Luke seems to have been here for days, watching him heal. Din’s mind veers away from phrases like “nursing” and “caring for” because, well, it implies a needing and a being needed that’s not usually extant for him. He takes care of himself, mostly, that is how it’s been for years. Decades...

Luke nods. “Anchorhead represent. Go Womp Rats.”

Din wrinkles his nose. “Anchorhead? There’s nothing there.”

“You’re telling me! Come talk to me about it when you’ve lived there for nineteen years.” He crosses the room to come perch on the edge of Din’s bed. “Which you won’t, you’re the king of Mandalore.”

Oh, shit. Yeah. He’s probably missing a council meeting right now. Wait. “Who told you?”

“You talked a lot when you were feverish.” Luke passes a hand over Din’s brow. He’s done that before, but it’s very different now that Din is awake for it. “It seems to have broken.”

“You had the kid heal me,” Din surmises. He can’t waste breath right now on wondering what else he said to Luke, when the fever had him. “I told you not to do that.”

“I had him heal you slowly, step by step, so he wouldn’t exhaust himself. Just a little every day,” Luke explains.

“He okay now?”

“He’s-” Luke begins to answer, then stops himself. A truly mischievous smile spreads on his lips. “Prince Grogu is resting, your highness. But yes, your majesty, he’s perfectly fine and healthy.”

“Stop.” Din swats a hand at him. “Not... ‘majesty’. We don’t even do that. It’s just ‘Alor. Actually, it’s just Din.”

Luke dodges his hand and almost falls back onto the bed, laughing. “Oh, dear. Please, your worship, accept this humble Jedi’s apology--”

“I mean it, stop--” He probably sounds petulant. He can’t bring himself to care.

Luke’s smile gentles. So do his eyes, impossibly blue. Huh. He’s beautiful. “I’m just teasing you,” he says, beautifully. “I know this doesn’t change anything here. Just another facet of the man I’ve been getting to know.”

“Ah. So you’ve been.” Din clears his throat. That feels awful, as it is still very dry. “Getting to know me. Huh?”

Does this qualify as flirting? This is probably awful. Din’s not good at this. And anyway, it’s still unclear if Luke is actually--???

The softest pair of lips in the galaxy (the galaxy!!!) is on his forehead. Din’s chest implodes. He can feel Luke’s smile on his skin. He’s never felt anything like it before. How is this happening? He’s most likely still sick, and this is a fever dream.

“I’d like to get to know much more of you,” Luke says, withdrawing, still smiling, his eyes like sun-streaked oceans. Din has no breath in his chest.

He delays his reaction two seconds too long, and Luke’s expression begins to falter. “I’m... sorry, you’ve just recovered, and here I am putting... this on you.” He gestures broadly at himself in his entirety. “I... hold on, I’ll go get you, um, a glass of water or something...”

Din would like a glass of water. He would not like Luke to leave. The latter wins out. “Wait.” He grasps Luke’s wrist before he can get up. “I didn’t mean... I would, um. Like to get to know you also.”

Luke stills, his face a turmoil of emotion. How is this the same man who looked so utterly serene to the point of expressionlessness when they first met?

Din figures it’s way past time he made a move. Luke’s already gone and bared himself so much. It’s only fair that he meet him halfway, Din thinks and kisses him.

#dinluke #skydalorian #hurt/comfort #sickfic #this one's about two guys who don't normally have people finding themselves having someone #it got longer than expected!#did i give din djarin the corner virus by accident #big yikes #posts by me

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

The Floor Is Lava: (Platonic) 501st x Jedi Reader

-saw something about the floor is lava and imagined this in my head at like 3am

-note, you are a jedi padawan of shaak ti’s with your own squad (who are actually my ocs lol). They are called the Nebula Squad (the squad is actually from Wannabe, another one of my Star Wars fanfics)

-basically, you are someone who acts alone (without your master) and goes on special ops missions. you team up with anakin a lot

-CAN BE READ WITHOUT HAVING TO READ WANNABE

Summary: The floor is lava.

Spring came early. Too early. Maybe it was the fact that this planet had short winters, or the fact that you just weren't used to the warm breezes and scorching heat. After being stationed on Hoth for a good two weeks, you adjusted to the climate. With that came the curse of low heat tolerance.

"I'm going to die." you grumbled.

Your mission was in the more civilised (that was how one of your boys put it) regions of the planet. For some strange reason only the Force knew, your ship broke down in the worst place: a deserted village. Why was this the worst place? Because there was no way you could repair a broken ship without spare parts.

And where were spare parts located? In the city you were supposed to land in. Great, just great.

“(Y/n), can’t we contact General Skywalker for assistance?” inquired Nova. “We are supposed to RV with them anyway.”

Nova was your friend and assigned clone Commander. He, like you, had a knack for getting into sticky situations. Usually he was the one with the plan B, not you. “I can ask Grav and Nimbus if they can get a signal out over there.” He pointed to the mountain on your right. It was tall with a jagged top, where thick forests of luscious greenery sprouted out all over.

Yeah, good luck getting through that.

“You mean to tell me there’s no signal here?” you inquired. “Just how remote is this place?” Even with that bucket over Nova’s face, you knew he was frowning and holding back a long sigh. “Intel said--”

“Intel’s always wrong.” cut in a voice. You peered over Nova’s broad shoulders and met gazes with another member of your squad, Icee. He was just as tall as Nova, sporting the Squad’s signature purple stripes and it’s logo--a nebula. Over his shoulder, he held tight to a sniper rifle. The thing was a beauty, as well as his baby.

“The three things you can never trust are the weather forecast, the canteen menu, and intel. Plain and simple, vode.” Icee added. You shook your head, swatting a few mosquitoes away with a wave of your hand. “If that big ‘ol mountain is the only place we can get a signal from, then I say we go. All of us.”

Nova nodded in agreement. He shouldered his pack, adjusted a few straps on his kama and weapons, and motioned for the rest of the squad to move out. “Is there anything we should know about the wildlife here?” he inquired. “My HUD’s picking up the usual birds and rascals. I’d rather not risk it though. Remember Felucia?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the mention of that jungle-hell. Everywhere you walked lay a deadly plant in need of its next meal. They snuck up on you too, striking out of nowhere like the silence of night. Your number one rule there was not to touch anything.

“There are a few carnivorous plants south of here,” answered Nimbus. “Besides that, all we have to worry about are the birds.” You admired the way he was able to brief everyone so quickly. The only other clone you’ve met with such a well of info was Tech, a member of Clone Force 99.

“What do the birds look like?” you inquired. Nimbus scrunched up his face under that bucket of his. “I don’t think you wanna know.” Grav squinted at the screen and pushed his brother’s head with the back of his hand. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but you sensed a lingering annoyance in the air after.

“What, you scared of some little bird Nimbus?“ he teased. Nimbus wordlessly flipped over his datapad for everyone to see. The screen displayed a large bird-like creature with long fangs covered in drool. Its eyes were beady and bloodthirsty, as if it wanted you to be its next meal.

Nimbus scanned over the heading. “This is a...uh...Kah-rah...Kahl-ram-dah-lahm-dahl...?”

“Kara’dalamb’da.” corrected Storm. He pulled off his helmet, the low ponytail of his fanning out in the warm breezes. “I’ve read about them once. They’re not the type of creatures I’d want to run into. They drag you to their caves, pull you apart limb, and then chew you alive. The worst part is that they don’t eat you.”

Nimbus knitted his brows together. “So we’re like chewing gum to them?”

“Exactly.” Storm affirmed. “They come out at night time, then stay around till dawn before hiding in their caves.” Icee blanched and you couldn’t blame him. You were all heading towards the mountains, where plenty of caves and labyrinths lay. There were probably tons of those Kara-whatevers waiting for their dinner.

You folded your hands together with a tight frown. “Is there another way of getting a signal to Anakin?” George shook his head sadly. You sensed an overwhelming amount of resignation rolling off his shoulders. “No. Even if I tried use long-range comms, it wouldn’t work. There’s too much interfering with the signal.”

There was a chance you could telepathically contact Anakin. He’d answer in an instant and personally come to find you. But that would drain your energy. Your boys needed you more than you needed to contact Ani. If you became dead-weight then it would compromise the mission.

“Alright,” you decided. “We have twelve hours to scale that mountain and hurry our shebs to the ship. If we don’t make it back in time, consider ourselves toast.”

You wished you’d consider yourself toast from the start. If that were the case, then you wouldn’t be running for your life. The mission up was a success. You managed to reach the highest point on the mountain in less than eight hours by ways of a local trail (Nimbus noted that this was a popular tourist spot in autumn). Then you contacted Rex, who promised to RV at the foot of the mountain.

The way down was a different story.

It was dusk when you made your descend. The moon rose into the sky while the sun shied away, and if it weren’t for the boys and their helmet lamps, you wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. At first, the walk back was completely fine. The boys were in good spirits and you weren’t hungry for (favourite food).

But then it didn’t go well.

It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t see the giant jaws of death looming over you, or Nimbus, who started arguing with Grav. Again. It also wasn’t you fault that George so happened to trip over a rock and slam into Sapnap, who tried breaking his fall by grabbing onto Halo’s arm. The three went down together, and with the heavy clanking of katarn-class armour, you were sure the whole animal kingdom heard the show.

And that was how the Nebula Squad found themselves in this mess, fleeing from the horrifying Kara’dalamb’da.

“This is your fault Grav!” cried Nimbus. They bumped heads and it took all your willpower not to join the screaming match. “Shut up,” replied Grav. “You were the one who started it!” Nimbus gritted his teeth. “You who else started this?” he seethed. “Them!” He pointed over his shoulder at Halo, George, and Sapnap. They were the ones who had fallen, after all. Why else did the beast wake up?

“It wasn’t my fault!” cried George. Sapnap scoffed and it was lost to the screech of the oversized bird above. “No one said it was your fault anyway! You just have a guilty conscious!”

You eyed the bird with a sharp scowl. It flew higher, into the haunting light of the moon and across the stars. It gave a great screech again. You covered your ears as a shiver ran down your spine. “Is there any place we can hide from that thing? I’m pretty sure it can smell us from klicks away!”

“That’s correct Commander!” Nimbus congratulated. By the light aura around his shoulders, you guessed him and Grav already made up. They always had petty arguments anyway. “The Kara’dalamb’da has an incredible sense of smell and a wingspan of about ten meters! That’s pretty cool.”

Storm stared at his brother in bewilderment. “How is that cool?” he demanded. “You want to be chop suey for that thing? Be my guest.” Halo laughed a little. You knew he was doing it to shake off his nerves. “Why’d you have to go on and say that? Now I’m going to start singing.”

You scanned the forest. For miles, it seemed to be only forest, wildlife, and bare nature. A flicker of...something cut through your senses. Calculating, at the ready, and deadly. You paused in your step, Storm mimicking you. He met your gaze. “You sense it too?”

“Maybe it’s them.”

You heard them before you saw them.

“Blast that bird out of the sky!”

A squad of 501st troops rustled through the trees. They were silent as the night, save for one trooper who decided to whisper-shout a ‘hi’ to your squad. Their formation, lame as it was, worked in their favour. They raised their blaster, lighting up the sky with bright bolts of blue.

“Can we get a rocket launcher over here?”

“Yes, sir!”

The bird dropped out of the sky with a cry, razor-sharp teeth bared and claws at the ready. It was coming closer, diving faster. You pulled out your lightsaber and thumbed it on.

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

You heaved in a deep breath and leapt into the moonlight. Your robes fluttered in the wind, and your hair whipped in arc of (hair colour). It was like you had wings. Time slowed and you raised your lightsaber. It came down in a neat slash across the beast’s neck.

You tumbled through the air and met the ground in a roll. The beast fell behind with a loud THUMP!. You turned off your glowing blade and stashed it away on your belt. The adrenaline keeping your nerves hidden away was slowing, and the realisation that you just murdered a beast settled into your mind.

Part of you wished things could have been different. But what choice did you have?

“Commander!” called Nova, stopping by your side. “Are you okay?” You smiled and he heaved out a sigh of relief. “That was some jump, but now look.” He pointed to your dirt-covered robes. It wasn’t a big deal, but to someone like Nova, it was an issue.

“Here.” Nova helped you dust off the robe with a few pats. “That’s better.”

“Oh, it didn’t look bad.” you stated. He folded his arms across his chest. “That’s what you always say (Y/n).” You grinned and bumped shoulders with him. He replied by playfully shaking his head with a sigh.

A familiar boy made his way towards you. Even through the moonlight struggling through the thick canopies, you saw the chipped blue paint. “Rex,” you greeted. “Thanks for the assistance. Although, I wish you toned it down a bit. You made my squad look like a bunch of young fools.” A loud ‘hey’ sounded from your boys, but you elected to ignore it with a grin.

“Your squad did a phenomenal job in staying alive that long.” Rex said with a chuckle. “And besides, you stole the show in the end. The boys had fun watching your display.” You three shared a warm laugh that reminded you of the sun.

Speaking of sun, was it just you or did it get brighter outside? You looked up to gaze at the moon. It still stood high in the sky, just as before. The stars were out too, bright and clear as ever. So why had the temperature risen so quickly? It was at least another eight hours till dawn. That was more than enough time for the moon to stay out.

A scattered cluster of birds flew from out of the trees. Was it just you or was the forest getting really silent? Owls refused to hoot, those kara-whatevers weren’t screeching from their caves, and crickets stopped chirping their calming songs.

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH!”

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS HERE!”

“I THOUGHT IT WAS IN THE SOUTH!”

You spun around so fast that you could have gotten whiplash. Sapnap, George, and Halo sprinted from out of the thick trees with their helmet lights on the highest setting. You squinted behind them. Something had to be chasing them, otherwise they wouldn’t be sprinting like track stars.

But you didn’t see any deadly animals, nor did you sense them. All that was left was an...

...an eerie silence.

You thought back to the briefing. Back to the meeting you nearly fell asleep in. If it weren’t for Icee kicking your feet every now and then, then you would have passed out completely.

“On this outer rim planet, I suggest you be careful,” Obi-wan had said. “The locals reported the activity of volcanoes erupting unexpectedly. They believe it has to do with an angry spirit plaguing their land, but we’ve found out the Separatists have a hand behind this.”

“Do you know where these volcanoes are, General Kenobi?” inquired Grav. He shook his head. “No, but I’m sure you won’t have to know. The city under siege is our main objective. You will rendezvous with Anakin there.”

Sapnap, George, and Halo motioned for everyone to move. There was a flicker of movement behind them. Fives emerged from the bushes in a frantic sort of panic. “LAVA!” he cried. “THE FLOOR IS LITERALLY LAVA!”

That was all it took for everyone to run. As uncoordinated as the retreat was, having lava behind you wasn’t exactly something anyone could stay calm about. The glowing magma was faster than it was supposed to be, and you had a feeling it was because it had a nice flow coming out of the planet’s core.

“Talk about an intense game of ‘the floor is lava’!” Hardcase shouted with a laugh. Jesse ‘pffted’. “I thought being chased by lava would be worse! This isn’t nearly as bad as last mission!”

Last mission? Oh, what was Ani doing to these poor souls? Your shoulders slumped in defeat. They were so nonchalant. How? Burning to death in lava was said to be the most painful death, and you’d rather not be Gollum in his last moments on Mount Doom.

“Why don’t you turn that frown upside down?” inquired Fives. You hadn’t even realised he’d caught up with you. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just a bit of lava!”

You threw a hand over your shoulder and pointed to the glowing, hot mass. It burned through everything it touched. A fire was beginning to catch too, and all the smoke and ash from it wasn’t doing you any good. “Just a bit of lava? Well how would you feel running into that?”

“I don’t know!” he retorted. “Never tried it!”

“If you did, then you’d be dead!” Kix shouted. You face-palmed. “That’s a bit of a no-brainer!” Fives pulled off his helmet. The grin smacked upon his lips didn’t leave. “Who’s up for a round of ‘the floor is lava’?”

“Me!” said Jesse.

“And me!” added Hardcase.

“You guys need to cool it.” Kix said. “But don’t leave me out, I want to play too.”

You let out a long sigh. The 501st may have saved your skin today, but tomorrow? They’d probably get you killed.

TIP JAR <--- (if you’re feeling nice)

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars x reader #star wars the clone wars x reader #501st legion #Clone Troopers #clone trooper rex #clone trooper fives #clone trooper kix #clone ocs

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val-aquenta · 3 years

Text

I’m on fire posting these fics. They have mostly been languishing in my drafts, so I really just have to spruce them up a tad to post them ahahah.

Here on ao3

Qui-Gon is the first to call him Ben. Obi-Wan is a name that is too long for him to yell, so he is nicknamed Ben. At least, that’s what he said. Obi-Wan thinks otherwise, obviously.

“Why Ben? What’s wrong with Obi-Wan?” He wonders, not noticing he’s said it out loud until he hears Qui-Gon chuckle. “What?” He flushes, affronted by the cheeky grin on his Master’s face. It is a look that screams trouble.

“A little long, Obi-Wan, huh?” Qui-Gon pauses for a moment from where he is preparing for flight. “Not exactly perfect for yelling when I need your attention.”

Obi-Wan puffs up a bit, not dissimilar to a loth cat Qui-Gon notes with amusement. “Obi-Wan is a good name.” The boy defiantly tries not to pout while saying this. “It’s not like I call you… John.” He mutters softly, voice sounding put off.

“John?” The older man’s wrinkles crease around his eyes as he smiles. He shrugs. “Ben is a good name regardless.” He defends.

“Obi-Wan’s better.” He opposes tetchily, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s so special about Ben anyways?” He asks with curiosity, always eager for new information.

“Well, Ben technically means son of my right hand, a phrase from my homeworld’s main religion.” Qui-Gon murmurs, willing to try and satisfy Obi-Wan’s need for answers. “The religion is… complex. I don’t even understand it completely, but I do understand the meaning of the phrase.” He pauses.

“Well… what’s the meaning of the phrase?” Obi-Wan fiddles with his hands, eyes alight with interest. He flushes self-consciously when Qui-Gon lifts his eyebrows as though proving a point. He ducks his head, a hint of red on his cheeks.

“Well, in the religion, there is an entity called God. And the phrase to be at the right hand refers to being in a space of special honour, the right hand, of God.” He explains, enjoying the way Obi-Wan seems to brighten with the new information. “Being the son of the right hand should mean that you will grow into this space of importance. Rather fitting, don’t you think?”

“Oh…” Obi-Wan flushes, freckles disappearing into the deep red colour. Qui-Gon swears the tips of the boy’s ears are red. “That is kind of you to say, Master.”

“It is the truth, my Padawan.” Qui-Gon smiles, clapping a large hand on his shoulder and tugging the boy in for a hug. Obi-Wan startles, tensing for a couple of seconds until he relaxes, shorter arms just barely managing to reach around Qui-Gon.

::::

Satine was the next to call him Ben. You see, Bant never truly latched onto the name that Qui-Gon christened him with, preferring to stick to her shortened form, Obi. Therefore, Satine is the next. She hears it once when they’re getting shot at and Qui-Gon has a plan that has an 80% chance of ending up with all three of them dead, but it’s better than their current odds. Qui-Gon yells it at him to get the boy to pay attention.

At first, Satine is startled, thinking a new ally has joined them but is surprised that it’s just a nickname for Obi-Wan. Granted, she doesn’t call him Ben for that long because she, like Bant, prefers to call him Obi.

She does call him Ben when they’re parting ways, and Obi-Wan’s chest aches something fierce. Qui-Gon watches, eyes somewhat sympathetic as they follow Obi-Wan. He pretends not to notice as they share one small, sweet, innocent kiss. It’s everything Obi-Wan wants, but he hesitates and glances back at his Master, and then pulls away from the embrace, head bowed. It is almost everything he wants, and that makes all the difference. If he stayed, he would abandon his Master and his family in the Temple. More than that, he would abandon his path as a Jedi. Even Satine, for all he cares about her, is not enough to sway him from his path. The Force whispers in his mind, sorrow and apologetic, thankful for his sacrifice. The choice cements and he lets go of Satine.

“Ben…” Satine whispers, the word almost lost in the wind. “I… good luck.” Her blonde hair, carefully arranged on her head, moves as she bows. “Thank you, Master Jedi, for your protection.” Obi-Wan bows back, though his head remains tilted down, not willing to look at the woman.

“It was our pleasure,” Qui-Gon responds, sending a little pang of comfort down the growing bond with his Padawan.

“Do be careful.” She says, deviating from her formal script. “Farewell, Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi.” The names fall easily onto her tongue as though she hadn’t spent almost a year calling them something else with much more familiarity.

“May the force be with you, Duchess Kryze,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he walks away from Satine, from the comfort of that life, and into the Jedi transport, his Master, a steady and strong pillar in the Force, ahead of him.

“… Ben?”

“Yes, Master.” Qui-Gon looks as though he wants to say something, wants to spill some secret, but he thinks better of it, instead closing his mouth and opening his arms, catching Obi-Wan as he falls into them.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs into the pale ear, his hand stroking circles into Obi-Wan’s shoulders. The boy, because that’s what he is, does not respond, only tightening his grip and inhaling the comforting scent of his Master.

::::

Mace is the third Jedi off the transport ship. He is also the third to call Obi-Wan Ben, though that happened a while back on a joint undercover mission with Qui-Gon. He reverted to calling him Obi-Wan, but then he reverts once more. He’s older and wiser, and, has been a friend ever since Obi-Wan was a small young child of the creche.

“Obi-Wa… Ben.” Obi-Wan’s heart cracks just a bit more. Never again will he hear that familiar voice whispering that name to him. The deep baritone voice rumbling it. It hurts worse than leaving Satine, Cerasi, or Siri, or losing Reeft had. “Sit down with me and let’s talk.”

“Yes, Master Windu.” The response is immediate, drilled into him with years of training.

“Tell me how you feel, Ben.” Mace rumbles, voice not as deep as Qui-Gon’s, but very close. Obi-Wan is certain that if he were to press his ear to the bald Jedi’s chest, he would feel the voice vibrating.

“Fine…” That response is nailed into him out of fear. Fear of not being good enough.

“Really?” Mace murmurs disbelievingly, leaning forwards and taking in the red-tinged eyes. A hand reaches out and takes one of Obi-Wan’s hands, feeling the slight chill that seems to emanate from him. “You don’t look fine to me.” He says in a frank manner that only he can pull off without sounding overly rude.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Obi-Wan responds, more exasperated than he thought it was going to sound.

“Ben… you’re not wrong to be sad. It isn’t wrong to feel loss or to grieve.” Mace says, voice closer to whispering than to speaking. The man scoots closer to Obi-Wan who, in the eyes of the Republic is also a man but, in reality, still feels like the thirteen-year-old being sent to Bandomeer, or the sixteen-year-old who left Satine, or the- “You’ve just lost a man who has been by your side for twelve years. It will hurt.” Obi-Wan laughs, but it is more cracked and painful than any laugh Mace has heard. He desperately scrubbing at his eyes as though he wishes to scour them away.

“I know it hurts, Master. Force, my chest feels as though I was the one who was run through with a lightsaber, not Qu-” His voice breaks around the name, and he devolves into small sobs. Mace observes the boy being thrust into Knighthood with something close to helplessness. He had lost Cyslin in a less brutal manner and yet it had hurt all the same. All Mace can do is offer some comfort to the man. “There’s a hole where he was and I can’t-” Obi-Wan's voice cuts off as he cradles his head in his hands.

“Ben,” Mace says it curtly, as though fully taking advantage of how short it is. Qui-Gon dragged it out a bit, seemingly relishing the way the name made his mouth shape. Satine’s lips always made the name sound sweet. Short and filled with emotions. “Observe and release your emotions.”

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan admits. He tries to look at his emotions. He can understand, but he can’t release and make them go away. There’s just too much. He says as much to Mace.

“Let me help, Ben.” And it is as though Obi-Wan is a youngling once more, trailing behind Padawan Windu in cream coloured corridors. As though they’ve been transported to a time when Mace’s forehead did not have the stressed wrinkles it does now. As though Obi-Wan hasn’t just had a piece of his heart carved out with a sith lightsaber. Together they sink into meditation, aware of each other, and acknowledging one another. With a little flick from Mace, Obi-Wan begins to reveal his mind warped by guilt and self-loathing and anger and pain and… it’s too much, Mace admits to himself. So, he starts small. A small statement, I was too slow, is given to him, and they watch it together, understand it together, and accept it together. Then, he moves to another, unwanted. And to the dozens that remain. Mace does not judge, and his heart aches at the knowledge of the burdens Obi-Wan is thrusting upon himself, but he says nothing about it, only reaching for the boy… man after their meditation and bringing him into a hug that lasts a full minute.

::::

Cody is a really good researcher. Sure, he’s great with a blaster, and hand to hand combat, and anything to do with the military really. He was trained under Jango Fett and the Kaminoans. But, one of his greatest strengths is his efficient diving into the Holonet. He can splice information from different databases, even the Jedi Temple’s database. Technically, he could just go to the Archives and find the information, but he could be seen there, so he doesn’t. Instead, he sits at the main console of his barracks and begins to get information regarding his new General. The Jedi, Kenobi, seems nice enough, but looks can be deceiving. In this case, however, it seems that they’re not. The little ginger seems to have a kind streak about the size of Ryloth.

“What in the world…” He mutters as browsers pop up. Multiple mission reports that he skims through to reveal another thing. Apparently, the General has a penchant for injuries. A really bad one if the reports are not a joke. He digs through one that was co-written by one Qui-Gon Jinn, and he spots some errors. At least, he’s sure they are errors because he’s pretty sure the General’s called Obi-Wan… not Ben. However, he doubts that the General would let that slide.

“Ben.” He forms the name under breath, making some multi-syllable word from it. “Ben.” He says it curtly. It is more efficient than to say General Kenobi or, Force forbid, Obi-Wan. The Jedi have the oddest names.

“Commander…” He jumps, turning to look at the man in question as he walks into the barracks completely unannounced. “I was, ah, wondering if you would like-” He squints at the console’s screen. Cody flushes deeper than before, the crimson stain spreading around his neck and up to his ears. Caught researching his General by the General in question. Rex will never let it go.

“General Kenobi, sir.” He plants his feet and straightens his back. Obi-Wan looks at the report and then at Cody and then back to the report.

“Did you… hack into the Temple?” He questions curiously.

“Well… I do have the access codes…” He trails off.

“Is this… the mission to Joonta?” The General strokes his beard, leaning forwards to read his report. “Force, my diction was horrible back then. So was Qui-Gon’s.” He scrolls down.

“Sir…”

“Yes, Cody.” He seems oddly enthralled by the report, scrolling rather quickly through the pages.

“Is your name Ben?”

“Sometimes.” Obi-Wan… Ben? Hums. Reading through the report absently. Noticing the silent prompting from Cody, the General shakes himself a bit. “Oh. It’s a nickname given by my Master. Almost no one uses it.”

“Ah.”

“Cody… you can call me Ben if you’d like. I don’t mind.” He stops the frantic scrolling to look at Cody.

“The vod will better understand if I call you General Kenobi, sir,” Cody says while ticking the name onto the General’s name. General Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Kenobi. Jedi and their names.

“If that is your wish.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Now, I came here to offer you tea in my quarters. Would you like to come?”

::::

Ahsoka’s always heard of the famous Master Kenobi or Padawan Kenobi or Knight Kenobi in pairs. Padawan Kenobi was always paired with Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi was paired with Padawan Skywalker, and Master Kenobi is paired with Knight Skywalker. Knight Skywalker is now obviously paired with Padawan Tano, so they're all connected. Contrary to what Anakin would think, Padawan Kenobi is the term she’s much more familiar with, and therefore is more familiar with the pairing of Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi. Even though she knows so much about Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are within all the stories that the Crechemasters say. She knows of the most interesting missions that the duo took and is somewhat embarrassed to admit the amount of hero-worship she has for the two.

“Master Obi-Wan, is it true that you had to drink pirates under the table to rescue Master Jinn?” She asks out of the blue one day, noticing the way Anakin’s hand tightens ever-so-slightly, blue eyes dashing to Obi-Wan’s pinched expression. She’s new to her apprenticeship and she still feels overwhelmed if she thinks too hard about the fact that she’s the Padawan of The Anakin Skywalker, and is part of the famous lineage.

“… Yes. Where did you hear that, Ahsoka?” He frowns while stroking his beard, a habit he can’t seem to break. He doesn’t look too annoyed by the question. Instead, he looks amused and rather curious.

“Ages ago, Master, in the creche.” Obi-Wan shrugs and continues, waving off Anakin’s worried words. The smile on his face is nice to see. Ahsoka thinks it looks bad when the Frown is in place, and that is all that has been in place since the invasion of Ryloth began. She’s happy that she could coax a smile out of the typically austere looking man.

A few months later while they’re travelling through hyperspace on Obi-Wan’s ship, Ahsoka blurts another question. Obi-Wan had offered to teach Ahsoka some jar’kai during the hyperspace travel, and Anakin had assented, remaining on his ship while Ahsoka trained with her other Master. “Master Obi-Wan, is it true that you once were eaten by a large squid and then spat out?” She asks at the mess hall. Cody, who was rather peacefully eating his meal thank you very much, chokes on the ration’s he was chowing on. Stitches, the medic, appears to have swallowed water down the wrong pipe and is sending a concerned look at Obi-Wan. The man in question deflates, shrugs, and answers quietly.

“Yes, Ahsoka. On Fuleya. Master Jinn thought I was dead for two minutes. Nearly screamed his throat raw trying to cut me from the beast's stomach.” He shrugs and then proceeds to tap on his datapad as though the clones in the immediate vicinity aren’t looking as though they’re having heart attacks. They’re very… protective of their General sometimes. Ahsoka shrugs as well, turning back to her meal. “Was this also heard in the creche?” He asks with the very amused glint in his eyes. The smile also seems to brighten his face.

Ahsoka feels a warmth in her stomach at having brought another smile to the man’s face, especially considering the stress he seems to be under with the war. “Yes. I heard lots about you.” He shakes his head fondly. She thinks that the smile on his face is worth the possibility that the clones might wrap him in blankets and lock him on the ship. Not that that would be a bad idea thinking about it…

“Master Obi-Wan,” She starts, her head tilted in wonder. This time, they’re alone. They are at the Temple, in Obi-Wan’s living room, sharing some tea. Anakin, ever the disliker of tea, had opted out, likely going off to see Padmè. “Is it true that your second name is Ben?” At this, Obi-Wan chokes on his tea, spraying the liquid around the room as he coughs.

Ahsoka startles, putting her own cup down and scooting closer to offer some assistance. “What?” He asks weakly, bringing a hand to his chest. This has been the most intense reaction so far. She rubs her hand softly on his back. Humans are ever so slightly warmer than togruta, and she delights in feeling the warmth through his Jedi robes.

“Barriss told me that Master Unduli told her that Master Windu told her that your second name is Ben.” Ahsoka chatters, looking curiously at the man who lies on the couch.

“Technically, Ben is not my second name. I don’t have one.” Obi-Wan runs a weary hand down his face. “Ben is a nickname given to me by my Master.”

Ahsoka perks up. “Oh, really? Like I’m ‘Snips’ to Anakin?” She questions, excited to learn more of the rather mysterious Master.

“Well, I suppose? Ben probably has more thought put into it than Snips.” He smirks playfully.

“How so?” At this Obi-Wan flinches. Ahsoka casts him another worried look but he waves it off.

“It’s a name meaning that I‘ll be special, essentially. It’s native to Qui-Gon’s homeworld.” He smiles softly at Ahsoka. “Much better than ‘Don’t get snippy with me.’” She laughs, happy to once more bring another smile to his face.

“Maybe.” She concedes. “I like Snips though.” Obi-Wan lifts an amused brow.

“I like Ben too.” They smile at each other.

::::

Luke never knows Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan. The thing is, Obi-Wan is dead before Luke is even born. In his place, Ben Kenobi is there. He knows the rough and weathered hand of Ben, not the smooth hand of Obi-Wan. He listens to the voice of Ben, not Obi-Wan. Because of that, there is no need for Luke to call Ben anything but Ben.

“Ben… why are you called Ben?” He asks one day. Owen is feeling in a more forgiving mood and Beru probably took pity on the sad old man, and they have allowed Ben to visit for a bit.

“The same reason you’re called Luke. I was named Ben.” He responds with a slight smile.

“Your Mom named you Ben?” Luke asks head tilted in curiosity much like another youngling tilted her head while asking about the name Ben. He wonders where the young togruta is, or even whether she’s still alive.

“No. My… father named me Ben." He swears that there is the gentle hum of laughter in the deep rumbling voice of his Master floating through the air. He looks around, but just the typical homestead surrounds him.

“Oh. That’s cool.” And that’s that. The boy runs away to the deeper parts of the house, a smile on his face. In his hands, a soft blue blanket flies in the wind.

::::

Vader knows who Obi-Wan Kenobi is. He is the man who took everything from him. He took his unborn child, his wife, his limbs, and his potential. Vader is sure that most of his problems stem from this Obi-Wan. Vader, however, does not know who Ben Kenobi is. You see, Anakin never knew Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan together long enough to know of the nickname. He wasn’t there as Qui-Gon whispered the name softly before his death. He never listened to Master Windu sigh his name as the two were chatting as they walked the halls. He never listened to the now-dead Duchess whispering nicknames into the ear of his former Master. He never listened to Cody jokingly calling the ginger, Ben. He never noticed how Ahsoka would whisper to Master Ben sometimes. Because of this, he misses the Jedi Master in his hiding spot.

“Darth Vader. Have you found your former Master as I asked?” Sidious sits on his throne of lies and steeples his fingers, wretched features obscured by his long, dark robe.

“No, my Lord.” The man bows stiffly at the waist, metal limbs not allowing anything truly graceful. “Kenobi is elusive, but he is old. Soon, he will be dead.”

Unknown to the two, Ben Kenobi, not Obi-Wan because that man died alongside the thousands of Jedi in the Purge, watches as a boy, the son of his fallen brother, plays in the sand, a toy spaceship in hand. Ben sits on the tip of a dune, smiling at the happiness the boy unknowingly projects as he wooshes the ship around above him. Ben’s hands are busy, carving a new ship for the child. He plans to make a Nubian for the boy.

“Ben!” The boy shouts across the desert, waving his hand. “Hello!” Ben smiles, and waves his hand in a silent greeting before he stands, joints creaking as he does, and turns back to his hut. Another day and the boy is safe. Cocooned in the silence of Tatooine, Ben takes comfort in the setting suns.

“Ben.” He hears the wind whisper, joining the deep baritone of Qui-Gon, the dulcet tones of Satine, the curt voice of Mace, the kind voice of Cody, and the young voice of Ahsoka. Luke’s toddler voice adds itself to the litany of voices, and Ben grins, watching the ever-changing dunes. Today was a good day. Seeing Luke usually makes his day, and this is one of those instances. A visit from his Master would do him good, he thinks. Soon, he will be too old for the lessons that the man has planned, but he plans to enjoy them while they last. Ben walks into the dunes, towards his hut. He might only have the ghost of one of the people who called him Ben, but he carries the other four close to his heart, carefully adding one more to that collection. The newest addition has a clear voice that is destined to deepen as he ages.

“How was your day, Padawan?” Qui-Gon is standing in front of the hut, serene as he was in life. Perhaps even more so.

Obi-Wan smiles wryly, feeling at peace for one of the first times in a while, “Quite nice, Master.”

Qui-Gon smiles indulgently, pleased that Obi-Wan still finds some joy in his life, “That is comforting to hear, Ben.”

#fanfic #star wars fanfic #duna writes #obi wan kenobi #mace windu #qui gon jinn #satine kryze #The slightest hint of obitine #obitine #Ahsoka Tano #commander cody #anakin skywalker

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ct7567329 · 3 years

Text

Everything I’ve Ever Wanted: Hevy x Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Female Reader, Probably the 2nd worst thing I’ve ever written.

Word Count: 4.1k (Sorry)

It was another rainy day on Kamino and you found yourself twisting around a small piece of fabric between your fingers as you leaned over the training arena. While other padawans got to explore the galaxy, study holocrons or improve their saber skills, you were stuck on Kamino overlooking the training of clones. You couldn't imagine a worse way to go through apprenticeship but it wasn'tymour choice. Shaak Ti chose you as a padawan, and you had to obey her wishes.

Quickly, your master realized you were a trouble maker. She would always tell you how much you reminder her of late Jedi Master Rael Averross, but she never bothered to explain what that entailed. The only detail she shared was that it meant you were always up for a challenge, which is why she assigned you to help the Domino Squad out.

At a first glance, the Domino Squad seemed like a typical squad of clones. But they acted more like bickering brothers rather than brothers in arms. A typical day of their additional training you provided was usually late night bonding, not necessarily fighting tactics. The boys didn't seem to mind this, except one. CT-782.

CT-782 was the most stubborn clone you've ever met. He refused to have a name other than his CT number, which you constantly told him wouldn't fly with any general. CT-782, of course, didn't care.

One night, you decided a game of 'Who's most likely to?' as a bonding exercise.

CT-782 picked up a card and read it aloud, "Who's most likely to pierce their own ear? This game is kriffing bantha shit!" He flung the card across the room, "How's this going to help us," he passed for a moment before bitterly muttering the last word, "padawan?"

You rested your elbow on your knee and pressed your palm into your forehead, sighing, "Your final test is in three days. This is my last session with you guys. Can you please, please for once take my considerations?" CT-782 got on your last nerve, but something about that drove you crazy inside, in an almost lusty fashion.

"On behalf of all of us, Commander, we deeply apologize for CT-782's unkind words towards you," Cutup said, giving you a look of sorrow.

Figuring you could make a lesson out of this, you replied, "You control and dictate your lives and those of the people around you. Remember, when you are cast out to war, you have each other. Don't do something you know can effect your brothers in a negative way. Back when I was a youngling, my squad would always say 'teamwork makes the dreamwork'. Now, I'm sure you've all dreamed of being an ARC Trooper. Well, ARC Troopers always respect and care for those around them, especially their brothers. Remember that boys, because once you master that, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, you all have ARC Trooper capabilities."

This made all of the men smile, except for CT-782 of course.

"Oh yeah. Coax us with dreaming of being an ARC Trooper right before deployment. I guarantee you sweetheart, we'll all be dead within three fights. Just like the rest of us," CT-782 huffed, his arms crossed, "If you're a Jedi, then why can't you give us real training. Something that will actually help us become ARC troopers."

You weren't going to win with him, "You treat everything so heavy. I promise you, everything I've done has done something. Take everything I say with a grain of salt and I promise, you'll end up exactly where you need to be.

Three days later, CT-782 was convinced you've lied to him. Watching the Domino Squad fail their final test pained you. You looked at your master with sorrow in your eyes, "My Padawan, inform the Domino Squad they will be allowed to try again tomorrow."

You nodded, "Of course, Master."

When you made it to their barracks, it was completely empty. Not a single sign of the Domino Squad. Figuring they were eating in the mess or something like that, you left a holopad on all of their bunks with the message from your Master, along with some words of encouragement, personalized for each guy. It was the least you could do.

Later that night, you returned on their barracks to leave another holopad with good luck in their lockers. As you turned the corner to their allotted locker area, you found CT-782 digging through his locker.

"Going somewhere?" you asked, clearly startling him.

He sighed when his eyes met yours, "As far away from here as possible."

You pressed your lips together, "I should report you, but I don't want to do that to you. Here sit down." You patted the bench that was in the middle of their locker area. He was hesitant, but he agreed and sat down next to you.

"Why aren't we good enough?" he asked, setting his Z-6 blaster on the ground, "we all get the same training."

"You could give one thousand men the same training, but you will never have those thousand men fight the same way." you calmly stated, crossing your legs, "Every squad has a different dynamic."

He grunted, "And ours clearly isn't up to your expectations."

"Hevy," you sighed, "I promise you, you all have amazing potential. I wouldn't lie about that."

CT-782 cocked his head, "What?"

"I said you all have amazing potent-"

"No before that," he interrupted you.

You thought back to what you said, "Every squad had a different dynamic?"

"No after that."

"I'm confused?"

He rolled his eyes, "You called me Hevy?"

Then it clicked, "Ohh! That's what General Ti and I call you. We prefer to give our troopers names."

"Hevy, huh?" he huffed, "I think I actually like that. Makes it more special since you gave it to me."

You hummed stiffly between your lips, "So you don't hate me."

He paused. "Why do you have faith in us? In me?"

"Because you're an amazing person, Hevy, inside and out," you answered without thinking.

You didn't realize what you said until Hevy's cheeks became slightly flustered. "I need to go. Good luck tomorrow," you quickly covered yourself up, heading out of the barracks. Hevy remained sitting on the bench, stunned with what he just heard. But now wasn't the time to let feelings getting the way of the upcoming test.

The next morning, you were staring down at the testing arena, eyes locked on the entry way. The Domino Squad was next in line to test. When they finally entered the arena, you stiffened up, anxious of what was soon to come. What usually was a jumble of blaster fire and running into each other was actually an impressive display of skills. For once, it seemed as if the boys were actually fighting together, not just as individuals.

And moments later, Hevy pulled the citadel buzzer out of its place. They actually passed. You felt the weight of not knowing their future slide off your shoulders. They kriffing did it. Hevy ripped off his helmet and looked up at the observation deck, making eye contact, then playfully saluting you. You smiled in response, and gave him a loose salute back.

Later that night, you met up with the Domino Squad in their barracks to congratulate them with their medals. Slowly, you pinned each medal to their cadet uniform.

"I'm proud of you all," you announced, "I'm certain you will accomplish amazing things. I'm probably standing in front of some future ARC troopers."

Hevy and Fives beamed with joy at the mention of them possibly beaming ARCs in the future.

"Don't get too lonely here without us!" Echo chimed in, "We will all miss you greatly."

You brought you hand up to your mouth to try to conceal you soft smile, "I'm leaving too, you know. Off to help command the 212th legion. Which reminds me, I have a meeting soon with General Kenobi. Again, congratulations boys," you began to walk away, "Until we meet again!"

The boys sighed, knowing they would probably never see you again. Hevy wasn't ready for that. Hours later, when the boys were winding down for bed, he snuck out of his bunk and wandered the halls of his home. As he was walking, he realized that he actually didn't know where the Jedi stayed. His head quickly turned to a corridor. You were down there, he felt it.

After taking a deep breath, he opened knocked on the door he believed to be yours. It was a gentle knock, but loud enough for you to hear on the inside.

The knock on the door threw you off guard for a moment. You hastily got up off your bed and sat at your desk, turning on a random holopad. After you felt as if you looked 'presentable enough' for the unknown knocker, you used the force to open the door. A small "huh?" escaped your lips as you saw it was Hevy there.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" you asked as Hevy entered the room, hitting the close button behind him, "what brings you in here?"

Hevy shrugged, "I guess I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

"Take a seat," you offered, pointing to your couch. He was fast to take up that offer. You continued, "I do recall saying, 'Until we meet again'."

"That's true," he nodded, "I just-" Hevy opened his mouth to continue, then shut it, then opened again, nothing coming out. "I'm sorry," was all he managed to say.

"For?"

"Treating you like Bantha breath. No one deserves that, especially you." Hevy bit the inside of his cheek and looked down, mumbling the next sentence, "I was just intimidated."

You raised an eyebrow, "Hm?"

Hevy sighed, "It'sHardToBeTheToughGuyWhenYou'reSurroundedBySuchABeautifulGirl." His words were quick, almost impossible to decipher.

"What now?" you hummed, leaning in closer to him to try to hear better.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly, but still bluntly.

Your face went pale as he started to exhale slowly. His eyes glanced up to meet yours. You saw through him. Reality hit you. The next day, Hevy ships out, shiny and new. The most vulnerable of the clones. You didn't know where he would end up, but truthfully, the chances he'd live to see many more days were painfully low.

Jedi weren't forbidden from kissing. They were forbidden from emotional attachment. What would mean nothing to you, would mean everything to him.

Why not give this soldier the experience of his lifetime?

You reached out towards his sleep tunic and grabbed some fabric in your fist, pulling him in for a kiss. It wasn't long, but it felt eternal. Hevy gasped before the kiss, shocked you actually were okay with it. When you pulled back he had a blank face. He was off the walls ecstatic that it actually happened but devastated it was over.

Hevy tried to speak but he was still tongue tied, completely in awe of the taste of your lips on his.

"You have a big day a head of you. Go get some sleep," you smiled, waiting for him to exit.

"I shouldn't have been so rude to you," he whispered, slowly backing out of your room, "you've been nothing but kind to me."

You shrugged, "Not too late to change that."

He stared at you in silence, softly nibbling on his lip. "I couldn't have been half the solider I am today with out you."

"Well," you sighed as Hevy stepped out of your quarters. He turned his head to acknowledge your words. You continued, "May the force be with you out there, Hevy. Cause I won't!" you winked, closing your door.

You paced back to your bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling.

Jedi can kiss without attachment! One kiss couldn't hurt, right?

Oh, you were so wrong.

Three Months Later

"General?" Commander Cody's voice buzzed through your com link.

"Cody!" you cheered, "So glad to hear your voice. What's going on?"

Just hours prior, the outpost Cody was sent to inspect, completely exploded. The second you got word of what happened, you knew Grievous was behind it, and you were worried over the status of your commander.

"You worry too much General," he laughed, "but I have some soldiers in the medbay who want to speak to you. They told me not to tell you their names."

"Huh. Weird," you shrugged, "I'll be on my way. If any of them were in that blast with you, I think I owe them a drink when we get to Coruscant."

It didn't take you long to get to the medbay. Though the Jedi cruiser was large, you always managed to quickly navigate the halls. You entered the medbay and looked for Cody. Cody was no where to be found. You walked into one of the private outpatient rooms and your eyes caught glimpse of other soldiers you recognized, even though they weren't in the 212th.

"Either I'm on death sticks or that's the Domino Squad!" you laughed, approaching them. They were all gathered around a single cot. The men turned their heads and smiled at the sight of you. That's when you realized that Hevy was the trooper on the cot.

"It was you crazy baffoons that blew up the Rishi Moon station!? Why am I not surprised?" your attention shifted to Hevy, "what happened to you?"

Hevy pulled down his blanket slightly and lifted up his left arm, which wasn't much of an arm anymore. What was his arm was gone, and replaced with a cybernetic arm. "It's nothing pretty, but at least they gave me a hand," he mumbled, pulling the blanket back up over his new arm.

You spent hours chatting with the dominos. It was obvious they missed having you by their side, but you reassured them, it was even more obvious that they are doing perfectly fine without you. As the later night hours approached, the dominos slowly left the room one by one until you were alone with Hevy.

Fives was the last to leave, and as soon as he did, the room fell silent. Hevy was scratching softly at his thigh with his good hand.

"General," he finally said, turning his head towards you.

"You can call me (Y/N)," you quickly interrupted, looking towards him.

He paused and pressed his back against the inclined cot. Even a pin drop could be heard in the room.

"I keep thinking about it," he finally said, his eyes looking at his lap.

You cocked your head, "about what?"

"It," he repeated, still gazing at his lap.

Oh. He was thinking about it. That kiss. That innocent kiss which you thought would be nothing more than make a man you would never see again happy. That.

"Me too," you mumbled, "Me kriffing too."

His glance shot in your direction. You sensed this and did the same.

"(Y/N)," he exhaled, his words full of lust.

As if you were a droid and it was your programming to do so, you stood up from the chair next to his cot and walked over to him. You slid your hand down his still human arm and settled your hand in his.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," you said again, "More than a Jedi should admit."

He shot you a passionate look and did that darn lip nibble again. As if his eyes requested you too do so, you pushed yourself onto the cot and straddled over him, sitting on his lap. As you did so, he cupped your cheek in his hand and sighed.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" he whispered.

You took a deep breath before answering, "I'm not sure, but as long as we keep going, I don't think I care."

One Year Later

Hevy was playing a card game with some of the other men in the 501st, talking about their plans at 79's later that evening when his Captain, Rex, burst into the barracks.

"Anyone holding the rank of Sergeant or higher, or any ARC's, meet me in the briefing room immediately. That is all."

Rex left the room as quickly as he came in, leaving dozens of puzzled looks behind him. Hevy adjusted his ARC pauldron and walked with the rest of the called upon men to the briefing room. Upon arriving there, the usually lit room was dark, the only thing lighting it up was the hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi and his General, Anakin Skywalker. Hevy noticed that typically, you were by Kenobi's side Turing holotransmissions. He hasn't seen you in two whole years, but the feelings he had towards you were still there. Not seeing you in the transmission made his heart clench. He had a bad feeling about this.

"We regret to inform you all of the passing of Jedi General (Y/N) (Y/LN). We understand (Y/N) was well respected throughout many legions. We wanted to inform the ranked soldiers first."

Hevy's heart sank. You were gone. There were so many things he wanted to say to you that he would never get the opportunity to. The Jedi reported you missing months ago, but at that point, Hevy wasn't too worried. He knew you were strong enough to survive on your own. But dead, that didn't sit well with him. Hevy was fast to get back to the barracks, where he sat on his bunk in silence. He didn't want to go to 79's that night. All he wanted to do was fall asleep, he could wake up from this nightmare.

Hevy was awoken around 0100 to yelling from outside the barracks. He got up off his bunk to find the barracks empty. It seems as if everyone else went to 79's. The yelling got louder and was understandable the closer he got to the barracks door.

"It's not fair! Not to anyone!" Anakin screamed at his master.

"Anakin, the council did what they must." Obi-Wan responded, trying to calm him down, "(Y/N) is in a safer place."

Anakin grunted, "And we must lie to everyone? Tell everyone she's dead?! Rex said Cody is devastated. Is that fair?! Why can't they know the truth?!"

From that point on, the conversation was too muffled to hear more but it was all Hevy needed to hear.

The Next Morning

"Echo, I need your help," Hevy asked his brother, who was peacefully eating his breakfast.

"If it's about (Y/N) I'm upset too," Echo responded, "but we have an important campaign on Ryloth soon and-"

"Please," Hevy begged, motioning Echo away from his food.

Echo shoved the remaining food in his mouth and followed Hevy, "What is it?"

Hevy nodded his head towards Echo's cybernetic arm that he acquired after a rough mission at the Citadel, "You can tap into the data base with that, right?"

Nodding slowly, Echo inserted his arm into a data port, "What do you need?"

"Open up any information on (Y/N). If it's password protected, try 408588463003. Those are the coordinates of her home planet. "

"I should question why you know that," Echo laughed, but his laugh soon turned to dead silence. "Oh my kriff," he muttered, leaning back on his heels, "she's alive."

"Where can I find her?" Hevy gasped, almost shaking Echo impatiently.

Echo was going to ask why, but truthfully, he was too hungover to worry. All he knew is that this would be his little secret with Hevy, "I think you already know. 408588463003."

"Thank you, brother," he nodded before rushing off. Neither Hevy nor Echo knew, that would be the last time they would see each other for a while.

Stealing a ship wasn't easy, but if it had to be done, Hevy knew how to do it. It didn't take him long to find a ship that wasn't only easy enough to steal, but neutral enough to fly into Separatist space undetected. With the push of a new buttons, he was on his way to find the truth. He was on his way to Serenno.

Hevy has never been to Serenno before. Besides, why would he? It has been Separatist controlled since the beginning of the war. But, with its location being deep in Separatist space, it wasn't too hard to land on the planet. Hevy followed his heart, which led him to a wooded area, far from any civilization.

As he exited the small ship, he looked around for any signs of life. Surprisingly, he almost missed the most obvious sign, a door built into the mountain side. Without hesitation, he knocked.

You were bundled up in some blankets on the couch in your home. It's been almost a year since the Jedi Council sent you back to your home planet. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you understood why. Jedi couldn't get pregnant, yet there you were. You were given only two days to leave the temple and escape to Serenno, alone. Well, except for the medical droid the council was kind enough to provide for you.

For the first time all day, you finally managed to find some peace and quiet. If there was one thing you learned while raising twins, it was that there is never a dull moment. There was a knock on the door. No one ever can out here. You rushed to your children's room and locked it, making sure who ever was at the door wouldn't have access to them. Before opening the door, you draped a blanket over your shoulders to hide your lightsaber you kept on your belt.

Cautiously, you opened the door and nearly screamed at who you saw.

"How the KRIFF did you get out here?!" you yelled, pulling Hevy by the shirt into your house, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Before he could answer, the cried of two babies filled the house. "Great!" you groaned, "the kids are awake!"

About a hundred questions swirled through Hevy's mind. "Kids?" he asked, following you into their bedroom. "Since when did you-" he stopped when he saw the two infants, "Why do they look like me?"

"Very funny Hevy," you huffed, "very-" you paused, "wait. No one ever told you."

Hevy raised an eyebrow, "No one ever told me what? Just two day ago, I was informed you were dead. About a year ago, I was told you went MIA!"

You deeply sighed and picked up your daughter and son, handing your daughter to Hevy. He reluctantly took the baby from you, this was his first time holding an infant. Hevy sat on the floor with your daughter while you sat on a rocking chair with your son.

"What other lies did the council tell you?" you huffed, rocking your son back and forth.

Hevy bit his cheek, "With all due respect, Gener-, I mean (Y/N), I have no idea what's going on."

That's when you explained everything to him. How on that night after the Rishi Moon Outpost explosion, you and Hevy made a decision that would hinder your relations with the Jedi Order forever. How the Jedi sent you to Serenno to try to protect you and your children. How the Jedi lied about your whereabouts to hide the secret. How these children where in fact his, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Hevy brushed his thumb against the little girl's, his little girl's, cheek as she slept peacefully in his arms. You smiled at the father daughter moment, the first father daughter moment.

"You can stay if you like," you finally said, "they are your children just as much as they are mine. And besides, they wouldn't exist if I didn't feel something towards you."

He slowly looked up, away from his daughter and towards you, "You mean that?"

You nodded, "Yeah, and we can pick up where we left off. Right before our paths separated for what I long thought would be the last time."

"I regret every rude thing I said to you on Kamino and I-"

"Hey," you hushed, "I know. But that's history. This is now. The present." You stood up from the rocking chair and sat next to Hevy, resting your head on his shoulder. "You know, nothing about us is conventional, but I think it might work."

Three Years Later

"Uncle Fives is going to get you!" Fives screamed, chasing your children around in the yard. After the Clone War ended in victory, you and Hevy decided to disclose your location to the rest of the Dominos, and they were more than happy to move in with you two. Echo insisted he only did it to be with his niece and nephew but Hevy knew it was because Echo missed his brother.

"Aghhh!" Fives laughed, throwing his nephew over his shoulder, "gotcha!"

You and Hevy watched Fives run around with your children while you cooked dinner. Hevy rested his head on your shoulder from behind and swayed back and forth.

"Hun stop!" you giggled, "I have to cook."

"I know," he smiled, "I'm just happy. And everything is exactly how I could have ever wanted it to be."

@ganondorf-has-greasy-balls @lightning-wolffe @jedi-dreea @smells_sharpies @hannahjessica113 @gryffindorqueensworld @coffeeandtodd @soclonely @raf-loves-everything @peacelandbread @persaloodles @clone-lover501-212-104 @ahsoka-padme @dangerdumpling @808tsuika @ahsokatano-thetogruta @marvel-starwars-nerd @katelynnwrites @youmaynowdothething

#hevy x reader #clone x reader #ct782 #hevy #clone trooper hevy #domino squad #tcw #clone wars #ct7567329writes

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fanfictasia · 3 years

Text

Comfortember Day 23

Hiding

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from By My Side. :P

“I’m fine, Master,” Anakin snaps, shifting his position. “I can still… focus.”

“With difficulty, yes.”

Why, why is there still a part of him that wishes Obi-Wan was worried about him for once instead of the mission? Hasn’t he long since accepted that it won’t happen? “I try,” he mumbles.

“I can tell.” Obi-Wan reaches over, laying a hand on his arm. “I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s just…” he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Things happen, and I’ll – I’ll associate the most basic things with it.” It sounds completely deranged to explain it like that. “I should go. It doesn’t really matter.”

“If something is upsetting you this much, I don’t believe it’s nothing, Anakin.” Obi-Wan fixes him with a look, one that says he won’t be getting out of this.

“Is it enough to say I don’t want to talk about it?”

“I can understand that.”

“Then what are you getting at?”

“I…” He seems to take a few minutes to think about it. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

‘Don’t do this with me, it’s not real it’s not’ Anakin wants to snap, but he holds back. This – this is before the war started dragging on. Maybe it’s before Obi-Wan decided he mattered little enough to throw him aside like nothing. “I don’t need – Master, I’m fine. This is a bit… disorienting. I need to get used to it, that’s all.” Let me go, just let me go.

”I’ll take your word for it, then. May the Force be with you.”

“And you,” Anakin replies, nodding. “With any luck, we’ll be back to Coruscant in no time, and… it’ll be your turn to be with Ahsoka.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he says, and Anakin almost laughs at the look on his face.

“Think you can handle her?”

“You’re doing better, to be sure.”

“I’m amazed you’d admit it.” Anakin laughs. “She’s reckless and she doesn’t listen. She needs… patience and understanding.”

“As if,” Obi-Wan scoffs.

“Fine, maybe I’m too soft with her.” Anakin rolls his eyes. He is. He was. Why else would she be so… wild? “But you did get mad at me every time I did something you didn’t like. She needs patience.”

“Now if you’re done giving me advice on how to train my padawan –”

“Our padawan!” he protests.

“You should be going.”

He laughs and turns away, amusement quickly dying fading into the depression smothering him, but he doesn’t give this constant aching loneliness any thought. It’s time to move.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #anakin and obi-wan #comfortember #comfortember 2021 #comfortember day 23 #day 23 #day twenty three #hiding #anakin #obi-wan #hurt/comfort #anakin needs a hug #anakin needs therapy #time travel #anakin time travel

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coruscantidreams · 3 years

Text

vertigo - chapter 1

pairing: obi-wan kenobi/female reader

summary: A year into the Clone Wars, the Jedi Council, in need of inside information regarding separatist forces, send General Obi-Wan Kenobi on the hunt for a possible, and very reluctant informant.

In the glittering planet of Coruscant, a successful nightclub owner’s new life is threatened with the past.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: none for this chapter!

link for ao3 here

Obi-Wan Kenobi wondered if he would ever have another moment to himself. With the way the Council requested his presence immediately after his latest landing, he was leaning towards ‘no’. He barely had the chance to unpack and was already walking towards the Council Chamber where he was required. Only Yoda and Mace Windu were on Coruscant, the other Masters were off God knows where.

A year into the war and the fighting was in full swing. Mission after mission had Obi-Wan completely, and utterly exhausted. He knew he wasn’t the only one that felt burnt out. The intense pressure of the war was put on every Jedi in the Temple. Their sacred peace keeping ways had been lost, and everyone knew it.

The short walk from his rooms gave Obi-Wan enough time to create a basic mission report in his head. There wasn’t much else he could do. Not with the time they gave him. He would have to write the formal report later.

“Obi-Wan, good, you’re here,” Mace Windu announced as Obi-Wan walked into the Chamber. “We’re glad to hear the negotiations on Breosnas went well. We’ll have to discuss that at a later date. There’s a new assignment for you and it must be done right away. We believe there’s someone who has information on separatist plans.”

Obi-Wan wished they would have asked for the report instead. “Of course, Master,” he said anyway.

“Is there a problem?” Nothing slipped past Windu. Maybe Obi-Wan needed to mediate more often.

He tried not to look defeated. “No, I just didn't expect to leave so soon. I was hoping to spend some time here, on Coruscant.”

Instead of a reply, a holographic image appeared in front of him. “Master, that’s-”

“Yes, it’s her. You see why this assignment is so sensitive, Obi-Wan. The new Knights are too young to remember what happened, and you already know how she feels about the rest of the Council. She’ll be more inclined to help you than any of us,” Windu said, “and, you're in luck. She still lives on this planet.”

“No offence Master, but it’s highly unlikely that she’ll give up information, even if it is me,” Obi-Wan tried. “If she’s still upset and we provoke her, it could push her to help the separatists instead.”

“That may be the case indeed, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince her. Do what is necessary.” Windu looked at Obi-Wan, and he knew the mission was not up for debate.

The rest of the Council was in agreement. A possible informant was better than no informant.

“Where do I find her?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

As soon as the sun had set, Obi-Wan was flying through the air traffic, the wind whipping through his hair. Miles away from the Jedi Temple was the underground club Vertigo. In recent years, it had become a popular destination amongst the rich and powerful. Separatists and Republic senators alike were frequent visitors. Vertigo was a lively club that kept anyone looking for a good time engaged. Although full of politicians and celebrities each night, there was a certain anonymity they found within the club.

Before Obi-Wan had even reached the club doors, he knew he was out of his element; his senses were overloaded. The shimmering atmosphere the club gave off was far too modern for his taste. Red and blue ambient lighting created a hazy purple sheen over the bar. Crescent-shaped booths in every corner were filled, and exotic plants he couldn’t name if he tried hung from the ceiling. Loud, thumping music had the dance floor packed.

Obi-Wan eyed the room, and searched for an employee. Waving down a bartender, he spoke quickly. “I was wondering if you could direct me to your boss’ office. She and I are old friends, I’m looking to catch up.”

The bartender, Eliamer, her name tag read, eyed him for a second longer than he liked. He thought he might have to use a mind trick before she mumbled a short “follow me” and they were pushing their way to a private elevator. A few awkward minutes later they were in front of an office door.

And that was where Obi-Wan found you.

“There’s a man here to see you, he claims he’s an old friend,” one of your bartenders says, the door to your office swinging open.

You raise an eyebrow.

She pauses. “He’s a Jedi.”

“Thank you, Eliamer. Let him in.” Quickly unlocking your desk drawer, you pull out your blaster, holding it just below the supposed Jedi’s sight. You wonder which Jedi has come for you, after all this time.

You left the Jedi Order eight years ago when you were sixteen. It wasn’t an easy choice, but a necessary one. As a youngling, you were the definition of perfect. Obedient, patient, respectful. Every Jedi wanted you as their Padawan, knowing they’d be lucky to be your Master.

At first, you loved being a Padawan. Becoming a Jedi Knight was all you had ever wanted; ever known. You were dedicated to your training and meditating, finding that it came to you naturally. Your Master was often relentless, and that only pushed you further.

Two years into your training and a simple mission to Alderaan was the beginning of the emotions that would later betray you. You and your Master were sent to guard an at risk Senator. Alone at night, you roamed the palace in hopes of making yourself tired. It was then in a shadowy alcove you witnessed real affection for the first time. Lovers joined, pushing against the wall in passion. All you could do was stare at the couple in awe. You had never seen anything like it; the Jedi celebrated their lack of intimacy.

That night back in your room, all you could think about was the look of sheer pleasure on their faces. The way they looked at each other so tenderly, like nothing else in the galaxy mattered. At that moment, laying in the luxurious royal bed, you knew you could never have that. You would never know what a bond would feel like. It was forbidden, and that was the end.

However, your envy didn’t stop when you left Alderaan. It burned inside of you each day on Coruscant, during every practice and every meditation. The desire to feel a fraction of what they did was overpowering.

You began acting out, hoping that your Master would fix your forbidden emotions. Yet he never did, he just continued to look at you in disappointment. The once perfect youngling was a disobedient teenager with no control.

You believed you were the only one with such emotions, until a frustrated confession with another rebellious Padawan proved otherwise. Hours later, you were pressed into your small mattress, finally receiving the pleasure you had desired for so long.

Months passed, and the secret nights you spent with the other Padawan were frequent. Yet the longing never stopped. It seemed that your desire only grew. You took foolish risks to be together, which could have only resulted in one outcome. The final night you spent together was interrupted by both of your Masters.

By the next day, your lover was expelled from the Order, only to be sent back to his home planet in a system unbeknownst to you. He had far too many infractions, and that was the last straw.

You should have been expelled, and you knew it. Your Master’s pleading was the only thing keeping you in the Order. The possibility that you could once again be the perfect Jedi was a risk the Council took.

Although you had been miraculously saved with only a harsh lecture from the Council, you knew what you had to do. You gathered the few belongings you had, and left the temple to start a new life.

You’ll never admit how hard it was finding work on the streets of Coruscant. Some days you wondered if you even made the right decision. Deep down you knew you would never have passed the trials. Living a lie was something you were not willing to do, and the Council would see it. You hated the other Jedi for what you couldn't do. Giving up your future to the unknown was terrifying. You wanted it both ways; to be a Jedi Knight and have attachments. One wasn't possible with the other, which only made you resent the Jedi more.

Eventually, you found a crowd, leading to the right connections to build a good life for yourself. It took a while, but after your club Vertigo was built, you began to understand the appeal of arrogance. Vertigo was one of the most popular nightclubs on Coruscant.

“I must say, I am surprised to see you,” Obi-Wan says, adding your name as an afterthought. He looks different than you remember. Older, tired maybe. The war has shown no mercy.

“I heard rumours the Council had made you a General. Jedi Master and General now, Kenobi?” You smirk. You and Obi-Wan only knew each other from pleasantries. He was newly ordained as a Knight while you were just beginning as a Padawan. You decide to get right to the point. “Enlighten me General, what are you doing at my club?”

“The Council asks for your assistance. We’re in need of information on the separatists. Vertigo is well known amongst separatist sympathizers. Your intel could prepare us for future attacks,” Obi-Wan explains, his crisp Coruscanti accent almost identical to your own.

You debate on putting your blaster away, not sensing any immediate danger from him, yet you know this could turn into a fight very quickly if you’re not careful. “If you came all this way just to ask me for information, then I’m sorry to inform you that I’m unable to help. Vertigo is a nightclub. Who comes here is none of my business, nor am I willing to spy on my patrons for the sake of the Council.”

Obi-Wan sighs, “Yes, I figured you would say that.”

A look of annoyance flashes across your face before you can mask it. “The Council knew I wouldn’t help, and they still sent you anyway? How pathetic.”

“With all due respect, you chose to leave the Order. Blaming the Council isn’t going to help you now.” He sounds defensive, and you can’t help but wonder if you hit a nerve.

Nonetheless, the statement annoys you. You broke most of your Jedi habits after leaving the Order, though it's easy for you to forget you can show your anger. Still, you pause for a moment to collect yourself. “The Council ruined my life once. I’m not going to let them ruin it again.”

“This is a matter of life or death, and we need your help! I can’t force you to give us information, but a part of you must know that this is beyond just the Council. It’s for the Republic,” Obi-Wan says.

“Do you really think I care about the Republic?” You ask.

“You should,” he replies, “what do you think will happen to you if the separatists lose? I believe a cell at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center will be waiting for you.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that. Besides, neutrality isn’t a crime.” The grip on your blaster tightens.

“Maybe not, but I’m sure when the senate hears we had a possible informant that refused to help, they’ll want to know everything about you and Vertigo,” he says.

“I thought you said you couldn’t force me to be an informant?”

“You’re right, I can’t force you. The risk is yours to take,” he says.

You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “Alright, General. Let’s say I agree. Am I getting something in return, or is this charity work?”

Obi-Wan refrains from rolling his eyes. “We have nothing to offer you but the reassurance that your information will help us win the war.”

“Let’s go for a drink,” you decide. Obi-Wan begins to protest as you slip your blaster back into your desk, then guide him out of the office doorway, and down to the crowded room.

Back at the bar, you order two cocktails. “You see that guy in the white suit? He’s a warmonger. He gives up any Republic plans he hears to the separatists. For a price of course. That woman, over there, the one in the red dress. She’s a spy. I heard she got close with one of the Republic captains. Oh, and him, the guy standing next to her! He’s an assassin from the Outer Rim. Technically he works for either side, but the separatists pay more.” You take a sip of your violet coloured drink. “Now, I will continue to tell you about every separatist here on two conditions.”

Obi-Wan stares at you. “Go on.”

“I want you to let me into the Council Chamber and the archives,” you say. There wasn’t much you could bargain for, nor that you wanted. You didn’t need money, and this would be far better than anything the Republic could offer.

“You can’t just walk into the Council Chamber!” Obi-Wan looks at you in disbelief.

“I wouldn’t be walking in, you’d be letting me in,” you remind him.

“It’s not happening.” His answer is firm.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Do you want information or not, General?”

“I can ready a cell for you anytime.”

“Fine.” You give in. “Just the archives.”

Obi-Wan looks at you so earnestly, your palms start to sweat. You feel as though he’s looking directly into your soul, leaving you raw. You know he can force his way past your mental barriers, even if you put up a fight. You definitely won’t get past him, even if you try. Years of practice and strict meditation means he can hold out much longer than you.

“The archives… it’s about him, isn’t it?” he says. It’s not really a question, rather a statement.

Of course Obi-Wan would clue in. You wasted months trying to track down the Padawan boy you loved, with no luck. The archives have records of each Jedi that ever lived in the Temple. If you could just look at them, you’d know which planet he was from, and maybe where to find him.

“The archives will have his information,” you answer.

“If you wanted information, that’s all you had to say. I would be happy to look through the archives for you,” Obi-Wan offers.

You almost laugh at his proposal. “This isn’t negotiable, General. I’ll take my chances when the war is over. I won’t go back on my offer to help, if that’s what you’re worried about. You have my word.”

Obi-Wan looks conflicted, until he knocks back the entirety of his drink. With a wave of his hand, he tells you to continue. You’re not surprised he gives in. The value of what you know is worth the price of letting an ex-Jedi into the archives.

You don’t even know where to begin. Hundreds of patrons pass through Vertigo every day. Looking around the club, you recognize several associated members. The three humans you pointed out to Obi-Wan are regulars. The aforementioned man in the white suit, Kenth, drinks with his outfit of criminals most weekends. You try to avoid the oligarchs, they're far too arrogant for conversation.

The spy, Kandri, is a mystery to you. She’s cunning and beautiful; it's unsurprising she managed to work her way into the depths of the Republic army. Of course, none of that could be true. Espionage is a facade after all.

Troleveen, the assassin, often does business in Vertigo. Rich trade members are always looking to eliminate their problems. Millions of credits have been paid to Troleveen within the club walls. Usually you would frown upon that much money being traded in Vertigo, but it's nice to have an assassin on your side.

For as much as you have heard, most attack plans are kept secret. They rarely pass through Vertigo. If Obi-Wan wants direct knowledge from the Separatist Council, you’ll have to make some inquiries. Count Dooku has never come to Vertigo, and you wouldn't want to know even if he did.

You start by telling him what you already know. Months of secrets and hushed whispers turn into hours of conversation. Memories and credits passed under the table between senators, deadly glances that can only mean one thing, Obi-Wan knows it all. To the rest of the club, it looks like you and a Jedi are having a lengthy, casual conversation. It is well known that you are neutral in the war. No alliances means no enemies.

Still, giving up secrets is not something you want to be caught doing. All you needed was a rumour to spread that you were leaning in one direction, and a bounty would be placed on your head before you could even blink. It makes you wonder if you’re doing the right thing. Being sent to prison is obviously not what you want. You’ve heard about the terrible conditions at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. Even if you were lucky enough to escape Coruscant, you would be leaving everything you worked for in the past eight years behind. Before Vertigo, your only home had been at the Jedi Temple. Having never known your parents or your home planet, Coruscant was all you had. Thinking about it brought emotions to the surface you’d rather not deal with.

The conversation has mostly come to an end, there isn’t much else to be said. “I believe that’s all I can give you tonight, General,” you say to Obi-Wan. “You’ll have to give me more time to make my inquiries.” With the information you revealed to him, his grasp on the politics the Jedi don’t often hear should be enough for the Council to start with.

“You’ve been quite helpful,” he replies, a certain twinkle in his eye. “You make a promising spy.”

“Hardly. We’ll have to meet at my apartment from now on. A Jedi showing up here every week isn’t good for business.” You can’t help but smile at him. He looks soft, far more relaxed than when he first entered your office hours ago. It could be the alcohol, too. Vertigo only serves the best, possibly illegal liquors.

Business, you remind yourself. That’s all this is. You didn’t necessarily like Obi-Wan, particularly because of his perfect Council obeying behaviour, yet talking to a Jedi again was somehow refreshing. You love your life, it's something you never thought you could have, though there are moments when you wish you could talk to someone who relates to your previous experiences. Your staff knew why you left the Order, but they could never quite grasp it. Understanding the rigid lifestyle inside the Temple walls was something only a Jedi could comprehend. For an ex-Jedi who left due to attachments, you sure are bad at forming them.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says, “I have to return to the Temple now, I’ll be ready in a week or so. I trust you’ll set a meeting by then?”

You nod in response to his question. “Tell the Council I say hello.”

“Just hello?”

“It’s bad taste to have a messenger for more than ‘hello’ in my case,” you answer.

He shakes his head at you, his stern look more for show than anything. You watch him slip through the crowd and up the stairs, back outside to the streets. The music has been turned up since he arrived, it’s later in the night, and it drills into your head. The bar is mostly empty, everyone has migrated to the dance floor or into the VIP lounge.

Rather than hanging around the bar, you toss back your fourth drink that night and head towards the elevator to your office. You’re tipsy, but not enough to find a stranger to hook up with. The thought itself makes you feel sick. You don’t dwell on that thought, instead you find yourself suddenly exhausted, practically falling asleep right at your desk. With a flick of your wrist the ceiling lights are turned off. You leave your datapad online as always, the blue glow coating the room. The cool glass of your desk calms your heated cheek as soon as you rest against it. Your eyes shut, the drowsiness taking over.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan kenobi/reader #obi wan kenobi/you #star wars

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cutelittleluckysoul · 3 years

Text

You Nerf Herder

This was a Request by the lovely @emilaa2001 :

Could you do an Obi X reader soulmate tattoo au? Where reader is on separatist side (civilian but whole planet is against Republic) and while exploring forest/mountains she finds crashed ship with obi inside (you can do whole tcw trio) and has inside conflict if she should report them or help them. If you don't want to it's okay, ignore this ask uwu

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader

Wordcount: over 2K

Warnings: There is mentions of a wound and blood but not very descriptive. Otherwise it is just fluff I think.

A/N: I wanted to post this last year before Christmas but I got distracted and then there was another thing that came up so yeah. At least now it is here and I hope you enjoy it. Please leave feedback if you want. If not I won’t be mad either. Have fun reading.

Every person was born with a special tattoo on their body. Apparently these tattoos are supposed to be the first thing your soulmate will say to you. Some people had cute things like “Are you an angel?”

Yours seems rather plain in comparison. “Hello there.”

To be honest you hated it. And so far it didn’t even work out either. Most of your friends already found their soulmate, but not you. Maybe it is for the better, considering the war going on and your planet being on separatists side. And no not just any planet. Your home was Serenno, also known as the homeplanet of Count Dooku. So yes you were a seperatist, but not by choice. You knew what would happen when someone found out you are on the side of the republic. And you weren’t fond of that. So you did what you had to do to survive.

It was a pretty normal day. There was not much to do for you today, so after finishing work earlier you decided to go for a walk to get some time just for yourself. The sun was going down now and you were on your way back, when you saw smoke rising up not too far away from you.

Should you go invest? Probably not but that didn’t really stop you. Looking back you wished you had stayed away.

The walk over to the shipwreck wasn’t long, and you could already hear several people arguing. You made out two male voices and one female voice. The female, sounding rather young.

“I can’t believe you crashed our ship Anakin. Again.”

The man sounded tired. You could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well if you would have navigated a bit better maybe I wouldn’t have crashed it!”

The second male, Anakin you assumed, tried to defend himself.

“Let’s not fight please. We need to get off of this planet before someone finds us.” The female said.

You were getting even closer, hiding behind a stone, now being able to see the 3 people.

“I think it is too late for that.”

The first male said and suddenly the stone you were hiding behind lifted into the air, revealing you. Kriff those were Jedi. This was not good. Not at all. You were supposed to immediately report if you ever encountered a Jedi.

“Hello there” Your eyes widened. No. No no no no no. This can’t be. This man can’t be your soulmate.Just your luck huh? This is not good. You weren’t sure what to say either now.

Anakin was looking at you.

“Maybe her species isn’t smart enough to talk.”

The other man chuckled. “Anakin.” He tried to scold him but you could see he was smirking.

You squint your eyes at the both of them finding your voice. “I can talk, you nerf herders.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

The man’s eyes widened. Really that were your first words said to your soulmate? What a stupid tattoo that must have been. It made you giggle on the inside. But now he knew it too.

Now the girl piqued up. “Can you help us? We apparently crashed our ship and we really need to get off of this planet.”

You looked at her. She looked so young. How could you snitch on them? Especially when they have an innocent child with them?

No. They aren’t innocent. They kill each day. And this little Jedi, a Padawan would be just the same. This is what they tried to teach you in school.

“Ahsoka, don’t be so naive, She is obviously a seperatist. She won’t help us. We should get rid of her before she reports us!” Anakin drew his lightsaber.

But the other man put his hand on Anakins, lowering his saber.

Was he really about to just kill you?

So the school was right. Jedi are killer.

And so you started to sprint, running back to your village. You didn’t get too far and were tackled to the ground. You were trashing like crazy but nothing was working.

Your attacker turned you around. It was your supposed soulmate. The other two not far behind. For a brief second you two got lost in each other's eyes. Kriff, he was really handsome. Your heart started to beat faster, your cheeks heating up. No! You shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“Let go of me!” You averted your gaze and your voice didn’t sound as strong as you wanted.

Nevertheless he got off of you and stood up, helping you as well. But he kept a strong hold of your arm. Your skin started to prickle where he touched you, even though he was wearing gloves. What is this bullshit? Was this normal? You had no idea and you won’t ask him if he also felt like he was burning on the inside by just a simple tough

“Listen. We really do need your help. And we would appreciate it if you wouldn't report us.” The handsome man said. Maker his voice is so smooth. How is this even fair?

You shake your head. “I can’t help you. You have no idea what they will do to me if they find out I helped three Jedi.”

“Well to be fair I am just a Padawan, if this makes it any better.” Ahsoka spoke up. You just gave her a look that told her that this didn’t matter.

Your soulmate spoke up again. “I know what you might think of us. But we are no killer. We only kill when we are attacked and the other person is armed. Otherwise we are peacekeepers. Nothing more nothing less. We just want peace in our galaxy. And it is very important that we get off of this planet as soon as possible. So can you please help us? You are our only hope at the moment.”

Those blue eyes were piercing right through yours. Your knees got weak. You had never seen eyes this blue. There was a mysterious sparkle behind them. You didn’t know what it was but you finally sighed.

“Alright. I will help you. But if we get caught I will hand you over without a second thought.”

The man smiled softly. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Alright then follow me.” You started to walk. Ahsoka immediately followed next to you and tried to spark up a conversation.

“Are we sure we can trust her Master?” Anakin looked at Obi Wan, whose eyes were glued to your form.

“We can.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do. You have to trust me Anakin.”

“I do Master, but I can’t help but wonder wh-” Anakin was cut off by your voice.

“Are you two coming or not?”

And so the four of you made your way to the castle, where you knew, was a ship to take them off of this planet.

Your mind was racing the whole time. You knew this was wrong, that you shouldn’t help these people. That they could kill you any second. But at the same time you knew you had no other choice. This was your soulmate after all. Somehow you knew you could trust him blindly. Could he really be so bad if he was your soulmate? Could the universe have been so horribly cruel and wrong?

Your mind finally shuts up when Ahsoka was back at your side, after talking to the two Jedi. She was very interested in you, your planet and culture. The two of you talked the whole time. You were at the same time glad and a bit sad that there was no time for you to talk to your soulmate. You didn’t even know his name.

The castle was less protected, considering that the Count wasn’t home at the moment. Meaning it would be easier to sneak in. You were here more often than you wanted, considering your mother worked in the castle and took you with her when you were younger. At the time you were so fascinated with everything. But that changed quickly.

You didn’t know how you managed it, but the four of you made it to the hanger with the ships without being seen. Which was a miracle honestly.

Anakin and Ahsoka thanked you and got into the ship, but your soulmate stayed a little longer.

“Thank you” he smiled at you softly.

“Don’t thank me yet. You are still not in the clear. And if they find out it was me… well lets just say it will not be very pleasant for me.” “Then come with us. What is holding you here?” He looked concerned now.

You smiled warmly. Maker this man truly is the whole package huh?

“I can’t. It will be suspicious and I won’t be safe anywhere in the galaxy. Besides. One has to open the gate and close it manually.” Your eyes got sad. You didn’t even know this man but you were already so attached.

He smiled softly as well. “We will see each other again. I promise you that.”

You nodded softly and he went his way. The door of the ship almost closed when you spoke up. “WAIT! I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME!”

“My name is Obi Wan Kenobi.” he smiled softly and then the door closed shut.

Obi Wan. You would never forget that name.

They started the ship and you opened the gate. But there was an alarm going off and suddenly there were battle droids surrounding you.

“Hey! What are you doing? Stand down.” One of them pointed a gun at you. “Close the gate.” Another said. You didn’t think and launched at him, throwing him to the ground and hid behind the panel. But one of them hit you in the stomach. You groaned and pressed a hand against the wound. Well at least you would die knowing your soulmate. You closed your eyes and saw Obi Wan's eyes. Those blue orbs made you smile.

Then you heard the droids crying out. And you were lifted up. You opened your eyes and there was your knight in shining armor. Literally.

“You came back sooner than I thought.” You joked lightly, wincing at the pain in your abdomen.

“Well I can’t seem to live without you. And I can’t just let you die like that. Not now. Not when I just found you. You will be ok. Don’t worry.” Obi Wan’s voice soothed you.

And you knew you would be alright and that nothing could happen to you as long as you were with his soulmate.

Obi Wan laid you down on a medical bed trying to help stop the bleeding. Good thing Ahsoka found a medical droid that was able to help you. A scar would always be there to remind you though. Of the day you met your soulmate and how you got to a new life with him at your side hopefully.

On the way to Coruscant he told you everything you needed to know about him and the Jedi council. He also told you that you weren’t allowed attachments. It worried you but he promised you and you already knew that Obi Wan was a man of his word.

And so you closed your eyes. Exhausted from the eventful day you just had, knowing that everything from now on would change. And you were surprisingly calm about it.

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