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infernaleikon · 11 months

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riding the law au aka 50 y/o obi-wan who’s getting divorced and has the hots for 23 y/o law student anakin who is assisting with his case

enjoy!

(3k)

* * *

“You could at least try to look happier to be here,” Quinlan says without looking up from studying the desserts as he flips the page of the menu. “It’s not like I’m making you put out after. Although, it might improve your mood.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, barely holding back an inelegant snort. “If you made me put out for inviting me to lunch?”

“Baby, you would be begging me for some sweet birthday love before the desserts are served if I turned it on,” Quinlan quips without missing a beat. When Obi-Wan flicks his eyes up to look at him, Quinlan is still studying his menu but the smirk on his face is insufferably cocky.

“Don’t call me baby.” Obi-Wan already regrets agreeing to come out for lunch today. He had very firm plans to avoid his phone or thinking about his current state of affairs by day drinking on his couch while watching wildlife or history documentaries. But in a moment of incandescent insanity he had made the mistake of telling Quinlan as much.

Which had landed him here. At a stupidly fancy restaurant for lunch with his best friend (though he is currently debating that label, really), in a fine suit, and nowhere near the sad state he’d hoped to be in by this time of day (without the option of achieving it either, given the very public and very pretentious setting).

“Sorry, daddy,” Quinlan says, and maybe Obi-Wan doesn’t need to get drunk. Maybe he needs to whack Quinlan. In the very public and very pretentious restaurant. The menu is solid enough to make it sting, at the very least.

Quinlan snaps his menu shut and leans back in his chair. “No objections to the sweet birthday love then?” he drawls. “The big five-oh deserves a formidable…entry, you know.”

“I will enter you,” Obi-Wan answers, reaching for his wine glass, “in a Taylor Swift lookalike contest. After bleaching your hair.”

Quinlan clutches at his chest with wide eyes and a barely concealed grin. “Vicious,” he gasps with faux-terror. “And here I thought you’d lost your edge and turned—” He scrunches his nose. “—vanilla.”

“Compared to you I have always been vanilla,” Obi-Wan says before taking a sip from his wine. At least his day involves day drinking after all.

Quinlan grins, wide and toothy, moving his own glass to make the wine swirl. He hums, eyeing Obi-Wan over the rim as he takes a sip. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, stud.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t deign to answer and instead returns to studying his menu. It’s never a good idea to let himself be goaded by Quinlan, and after years of friendship he does know all of Obi-Wan’s buttons, and even though he’s always insufferable about it, sometimes he pushes them to make Obi-Wan feel better.

“Aren’t you excited to be able to let loose in your prime cougar years?” Quinlan asks. “I distinctly remember you saying you look forward to getting finer.”

“I said older,” Obi-Wan points out without looking up.

“Same thing.” There’s that grin in Quinlan’s voice. He’s clearly not yet given up. “Come on, Kenobi, unclench. Why are you suddenly acting like your life is over?”

Obi-Wan sighs as he puts his menu down. “I’m f—”

“Mr. Kenobi?” a voice cuts in, and Obi-Wan snaps his mouth shut.

There’s an excited flutter in his chest, warm and thrilling, as he turns to face the source of the voice.

Anakin.

Anakin who had told Obi-Wan how excited he is about the opportunity to help out at the firm and with Obi-Wan’s case to gain work experience while studying to become a lawyer himself. Anakin who soaks up Obi-Wan’s attention like he’s been starving for it. Anakin who, in turn, gives Obi-Wan his own undivided attention whenever they talk, focusing on him like a laser and making Obi-Wan sweat from it beneath his shirt.

Anakin who is twenty-three years old.

Anakin who is blinking big, blue eyes at him, a faint but earnest smile playing around the corners of his mouth as Obi-Wan meets his gaze.

Obi-Wan unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Anakin says as his eyes trail curiously over to Quinlan. “I saw you when I came in, and I thought I’d say hi.”

“No apologies necessary,” Obi-Wan says, waving him off. His mouth feels bone-dry. “Just having lunch with my f—”

“His side piece,” Quinlan cuts in with the sharp grin of a wolf. He’s leaned back in his chair, one arm hung over the backrest and holding his glass in the other hand, and oh, Obi-Wan is going to—

“He’s—you’re not.” Obi-Wan turns from Anakin to Quinlan. It comes out with far more vehemence than he anticipates, carrying a note of urgency and desperation that is entirely unbecoming on someone his age, really, especially regarding this; especially in front of Anakin. “You’re not flexible enough to be my side piece.”

Quinlan sniffs. “It’s not like you give me time to stretch.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t groan. He should’ve known better than to engage Quinlan. He does know better. “You know you don’t have to take every opening I give you,” he points out, and regrets it immediately.

Quinlan’s grin grows impossibly sharper.

“Don’t.” Obi-Wan levels him with a look and watches Quinlan raise his eyebrows, shrugging nonchalantly.

Turning back to Anakin, Obi-Wan finds him looking—Obi-Wan would say intrigued if he didn’t know better. There is a part of him that wants to run wild imagining the things Anakin would find enthralling, the things he’d enjoy, the kind of banter he’d engage in and how he’d react. But Anakin’s gaze sweeps over Quinlan once more before returning to Obi-Wan and it’s—unsurprising and not even quite disappointing. Quinlan has an effortless charm about him that’s hard to compete with.

Not that Obi-Wan is competing. He may be on his last shred of composure and dignity when it comes to Anakin but that one is still holding.

For now.

“Apologies,” Obi-Wan offers. Anakin blinks as if he’s coming back to himself. “Quinlan grew up surrounded by mannequins, with no human interaction, so he doesn’t know what is appropriate in social situations and what is not.”

“Sorry, daddy,” Quinlan chimes in.

Obi-Wan very nearly kicks him under the table.

“Uh,” Anakin says as he drops his eyes to his feet. There’s a flush high on his cheeks: a pretty, dusky pink that draws Obi-Wan’s attention like a beacon. He’s seen Anakin blush before; he actually quite enjoys flustering that boy himself and watching the color spread across his tanned skin. Anakin’s responsiveness is intoxicating. It’s dangerous.

Anakin looks back up and releases his bottom lip, now even plumper than usual and slightly shiny with spit, from between his teeth.

Obi-Wan’s last shred grows precariously thin.

Anakin clears his throat before he says, “Uh, nice to—um—meet you,” as he turns his attention to Quinlan once more.

Obi-Wan is never going out with Quinlan again, no matter how slim the chances are of running into Anaki—people. Who Obi-Wan may or may not be more or less ruinously attracted to.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts before Quinlan gets rolling again, “works at the law firm handling m—the divorce. He’s helping with the case.”

Quinlan’s eyebrows rise in interest and so does Obi-Wan’s blood pressure. “Is he?” Quinlan comments, in a tone that is far too casual for Obi-Wan’s liking. He hums, diverting his gaze from Obi-Wan back to Anakin. “And how is that going?”

Anakin ducks his head again and the way his lashes fan out over his cheeks is criminal. Obi-Wan takes a sip of his wine, bemoaning the fact that its quality is too good to burn on the way down his throat to distract him.

“Sorry we couldn’t get you your dog,” Anakin says, looking back up and squarely at Obi-Wan. The earnestness in Anakin’s big, blue eyes makes Obi-Wan’s gut clench with the desire to ravish him.

He smiles mildly instead. “Oh, that is quite alright,” he promises. “It has always been Satine’s dog. I am not a pet person myself. But the dog did get me the beach house in Naboo.” Despite himself, Obi-Wan can’t keep the satisfied glee out of his voice entirely.

Quinlan barks out a laugh and Anakin stares at Obi-Wan as if he’s seeing him for the first time. Which, Obi-Wan supposes, cursing himself for his own arrogance, he does. Leveraging the damn dog to get the beach house had been a dick move but he’d felt petty and vindictive at the time. Satine loves her flea carpet too much to have given it up just to spite Obi-Wan. Of course, Obi-Wan hadn’t told Anakin any of that for fear of losing Anakin’s eager attention.

Good job.

“Oh.” It rushes out of Anakin in an exhale. “That’s—you’re—”

“Such a bitch?” Obi-Wan suggests, choosing to own his gracelessness.

“Yeah,” Anakin says—and immediately colors beautifully. “No! No, of course not.” He clears his throat, hands flexing. “You just—you know how to get what you want.”

There’s an odd quality to his voice, a sort of low, alluring timbre that sounds…obscene.

Or maybe Obi-Wan is just a dirty old pervert.

Quinlan looks like he’s having the time of his life when Obi-Wan’s gaze lands on him after averting his eyes from Anakin. Oh, he’s never going to hear the end of this. At least Quinlan is keeping his mouth shut for once.

When Obi-Wan chances a glance back at Anakin, Anakin’s eyes are tracking over his suit, and the precise attention of his gaze makes heat rise up within Obi-Wan.

“Special occasion?” Anakin asks when he notices Obi-Wan looking. His eyes flicker to Quinlan for a brief moment.

Obi-Wan is so busy trying to decipher what conclusion Anakin could possibly have come to that he momentarily forgets to answer.

“It’s his birthday.” Quinlan mock-whispers, pressing his right hand to the left corner of his mouth conspiratorially. “He’s being very blushy about turning fifty.”

If Obi-Wan was a lesser man, he might have considered amicicide. As it is, he feels himself brace for something as a wave of dread washes over him and drowns whatever imaginary chance he may have entertained about having with Anakin.

“Fifty?” Anakin says. His eyes track over Obi-Wan like lasers. “Really?”

Quinlan smirks. “Like a fine wine.”

“I’m a very exclusive vintage,” Obi-Wan snaps. He doesn’t chug the rest of his wine but it is a close call, especially when Quinlan’s smirk grows wider, more mischievous.

“An acquired taste,” he offers.

Obi-Wan puts amicicide back on the table.

But then Anakin croaks, “Yeah,” and it sounds like all the air comes rushing out of his lungs. He looks a little faint.

“What?”

Anakin blinks and clears his throat. “I better get going, uh,” he says. Obi-Wan can watch the flush work its way down Anakin’s throat and disappear below the collar of his shirt.

(He wants to follow it all the way down with his tongue.)

“I’m, uh, running late already.” Anakin sucks in a breath. “Happy birthday, Mr. Kenobi.”

Anakin is already retreating when Obi-Wan finds his voice again. “Obi-Wan,” he corrects, without even thinking.

Anakin stops and looks at him. “Obi-Wan,” he repeats, a little wondrous, a little breathless, as if he’s revealing a secret. The sound of it runs through Obi-Wan like molten gold.

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw, imagining what his name would sound like if Anakin moaned it, gasped it, screamed it while writhing in pleasure beneath him.

With a final nod, Anakin turns and walks away. He’s not wearing a suit jacket today, exposing the long lines of his torso. Obi-Wan has wondered more than once how his hands would look on Anakin’s trim waist. As his eyes trail after him, Obi-Wan imagines grabbing it, pulling Anakin back against his body by it and—

He tears his gaze away and makes himself breathe a deep inhale and exhale.

Quinlan is practically noisily vibrating with barely contained glee when Obi-Wan turns back to him.

“Thinking about getting yourself a little birthday treat?” he asks, leaning forward like Obi-Wan is going to tell him a juicy piece of gossip any second.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan says. It’s a pointless battle, he’s aware. “I’m more than twice his age.”

Quinlan kinks an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “So?”

“He could be my—”

“Boy toy?”

He says it just as the waiter arrives at their table to take their dessert orders. Obi-Wan wonders if he can get them to substitute the coffee in their tiramisu with tequila.

He ends up ordering more wine.

“He’s cute,” Quinlan notes as he hands his menu back to the waiter.

“He’s too young for you,” Obi-Wan retorts drily. He’s drunk the last of his wine already which is a shame because he really needs to throw something back.

Quinlan snorts and wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh, he is. We both know I lean more towards…man toys.”

Obi-Wan passes a hand down his face and swallows the groan that threatens to burst out of him. Quinlan cackles as if someone told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. Bastard.

“Are you going to ask out the pretty baby lawyer?” Quinlan asks, nudging Obi-Wan with the tip of his foot under the table. “Bang it out? You deserve a nice rebound screw. I bet he meets your high standard of flexibility.”

Obi-Wan will hear about it until either he dies or Quinlan.

“Youth does not equal flexibility,” Obi-Wan points out.

“But you have fantasized about bending him in half,” Quinlan states. He states. Like it’s a fact. Like he knows it to be a proven truth.

The worst part is that he’s right. Which Obi-Wan can’t admit to his face because Quinlan might pop a gleeful aneurysm.

(…maybe Obi-Wan should admit to it.)

He’s spared the embarrassment of answering because the waiter returns with their desserts. It’s not like there is anything he can say to convince Quinlan otherwise anyway and Obi-Wan doesn’t feel like arguing about it.

“Seriously, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan starts as he generously piles his dessert’s whipped cream onto his spoon. “What’s the big deal?”

Sometimes he feels like Quinlan is being deliberately obtuse and it’s one of his most irritating qualities. “Because I am fifty, getting divorced from my wife of twenty-three years, which is, coincidentally, also how old Anakin is, and I am starting petty arguments with her just to get the things I want out of this divorce even though this split is mutual. I think I’m having enough of a midlife crisis as it is,” Obi-Wan points out through gritted teeth. He doesn’t need to add fucking a twenty-something to the list pathetic things men his age do. “Besides, Anakin is just being friendly. He saw a client, he said hello. It’s called ‘being polite’. You should add that to your behavioral repertoire.”

Quinlan looks entirely unimpressed. He scoops up more whipped cream. “A divorce isn’t a midlife crisis. Turning fifty isn’t either,” he says with a shrug before spooning the cream into his mouth. “And from where I’m sitting, Anakin was very politely turned on, so you know, that boy is DTF—down to frolic, to explain it with your elderly vocabulary, and he’s young enough to know all the tricks in the book to help you relieve all that stress and tension.”

Before Obi-Wan can respond, the waiter reappears at their table carrying a tray with two empty wine glasses and a bottle.

“We didn’t order this,” Obi-Wan explains when the waiter puts down the glasses in front of them.

“This is courtesy of Organa and Amidala,” the waiter answers with a small smile as he starts pouring the wine. “Happy birthday, Mr. Kenobi.”

Quinlan picks up the bottle once the waiter leaves and reads the label, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Courtesy of Organa and Amidala, huh?” Raising his glass to his nose to smell the bouquet, his grin widens. “A very nice vintage. Bet he really enjoys these old grapes himself.”

Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut and draws his fingers over his beard, trying to will himself away. He can feel heat rising into his face. The truth is if he allows himself to entertain any thought of actually…engaging Anakin, there is now way he’ll be able to stop. The thought of pursuing Anakin ignites an excited flutter in his stomach, a wildfire of desire that licks up his spine and dries out his mouth. Anakin entices him in a way nothing has in a long time.

It would be inappropriate to take advantage of Anakin’s interest, especially since Obi-Wan’s own stems from the selfish wish of distracting himself from his current situation and to satisfy his own desires. Anakin deserves better than that.

And yet the thought of peeling Anakin out of his suit piece by piece and spreading him out on his bed doesn’t leave Obi-Wan’s mind.

Obi-Wan surrenders his own dessert to Quinlan and decidedly does not think about having one that is way better. In return, he gets a dozen more innuendos that get progressively worse and worse but somehow still manage to make him bite back exasperated laughs.

“Your lunch has already been paid for, another courtesy by Organa and Amidala,” the waiter explains after Quinlan’s ordered the bill. He places the check presenter on the table in front of Quinlan.

Quinlan scowls. “Then what is this?”

The waiter smiles politely. “Mr. Skywalker covered Mr. Kenobi’s bill.”

Obi-Wan has rarely seen Quinlan this flabbergasted. His gaze drops from the waiter to Obi-Wan and he narrows his eyes at Obi-Wan’s barely contained smirk.

“You deserve each other,” he hisses as he puts his credit card into the presenter and hands it back over.

Obi-Wan starts to believe that that may be true.

* * *

anakin, explaining the 600 dollar bottle of wine on the bill: it’s mr. kenobi’s birthday 👉👈

padme:

anakin: it’s his fiftieth birthday 🥺 👉👈

#obikin #ficcups #this is highly self-indulgent #i have no regrets #also much thanks to mystic and rena

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fanfic-obsessed · 9 months

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Merge the Timestream AU.

This came about because the amazing @bitter-chocolate-stars muse for the AU idea Merging the TimeStream flew out and bit me. I would highly recommend reading it first, because it is awesome and I could not do it justice.

Now onto the madness.

It is a mission to a Force Temple, old enough that no one knows which side of the Force it was for (or if it was for a specific side). There were rumors that there was an ancient artifact that could change the tides of the War, so The 212th and the 501st were dispatched to get it before the Separatists.

Five people went into the final chamber to search(There was a description of the artifact in the temple. Only four words had been able to be translated-Past, Present, Future, and Knowledge): Obi Wan Kenobi, Anaking Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Commander Cody, and Captain Rex.

It was these five people who were caught by the artifact. Each of these five were split into three. The present version of themselves, a future version, and a past version.

I bet you all can see where this is going.

Obi Wan’s past version is from Melida/Daan, two days before Cerasi died. The future is Old Ben, coming directly from his own beheading on the Death Star.

Anakin’s past is nine year old Anakin, hours before he would meet Qui Gon Jinn and Padme Amidala for the first time. The future is Vader (I hope none of you are surprised), a month after he cut off Luke’s hand, and just after he fully realized that it meant his and Padme’s child had always lived.

Ahsoka’s past is three years old, just Found by Plo Koon. Her future is Rebels Era Ahsoka, aka Fulcrum, before she found out that Vader was Anakin.

Rex’s past was a physically four year old cadet, the only survivor of his batch (who were decommissioned because of their blonde hair mutation-Rex’s scores were so high that he was kept). The future is Old Rex, post Empire (I always headcanon that Rex survives to see the end of the Empire because of spite).

Cody’s past is ARC Trainer Cody, after the war had started but before he was assigned to be Obi Wan’s commander. His future had just deserted the Empire and doesn’t even know about the chips yet.

Frankly it likely would have been better if one or more of those people had arrived unconscious. Alas this was not to be.

Upon arriving, Little Ahsoka immediately started crying to the visible concern of both Cadet Rex and Child Anakin (both were concerned about punishment at the noise). Before anyone could even think to do anything, Vader pointed a dramatic finger at Old Ben and went ‘You’ and followed up with ‘Why didn’t you tell me my son lived?’

Old Ben caulked his head, ‘Even leaving aside I thought I had left you for dead for a decade, Darth, why would I trust you with your children after the march on the temple?’

Now Darth Vader rocked back on his heels, “Children?” and then a moment later “Leia Organa”

Old Ben sighed deeply, ‘Surely we can both agree that the fact you tortured your daughter does prove me right to keep them from you.’

‘I cut off Luke’s hand too’ Vader said absently

Old Ben just buried his face in his hands.

Now all of this was with the background tune of little Ahsoka still crying. Former padawan Obi Wan is the one who reaches her first, and picks her up, smoothly herding Cadet Rex and Child Anakin behind him, away from the adults in the room. Former Padawan Obi Wan is radiating a vicious, desperate protectiveness.

The movement caused Old Ben to look away from Vader at the rest of the room. His brow furrows. He looks back at Vader, “Do you remember this?”

Vader’s black mask turns to take in the rest of the room, his breath rasps somehow louder than the crying Ahsoka. At last he says ‘I do not’.

Post Empire Rex snorts and says, with an unimpressed deadpan ‘It is probably Force Shit’.

It takes another half hour to get any kind of semblance of calm and start to piece together what is going on. In spite of the fact that neither Old Ben, nor Vader want to admit who they are (for different reasons), no one in the room is actually stupid.

There is a moment when Rex is obligated to give Old Ben shit for the fact that he told Luke that Vader killed Anakin Skywalker, to which Ben responds ‘I was just passing on what he’ points at Vader, ‘told me’.

At another moment Fulcrum throws up her hands and shoes at Old Ben ‘I thought you were dead, again. Why didn’t you tell me you survived.’ Old Ben blinks at her, ‘Leaving aside I also thought you were dead, my dear, for the last decade I have had the single highest bounty in the empire’ Old Ben looks to Vader, who nods solemnly after a moment, ‘I would have thought that would be telling.’ Fulcrum actually pouts and mutters, ‘I thought that was a plan by the Rebellion to draw Vader’s attention.’

There is just…so much trauma in this room. Like it is possible that this group has the highest concentration of trauma in the entire galaxy.

Deserter Cody appears to be having multiple concurrent panic attacks, his face swinging between Old Ben and General Obi Wan almost constantly. Between the residual guilt of having his general shot at, the horror of the long held belief that Cody had caused Obi Wan’s death, the combination of relief and horror at the news of the chip in his head, the combination of relief and confusion at Old Ben (who is proof that Obi Wan Kenobi did not die on Utapau), the confusion of being confronted with two other versions of himself all culminates in the fact that Deserter Cody is going through some things.

ARC Trainer Cody is going through less, mainly horror at the chips. He is also very much a shiny as far as his reactions to the Jedi are concerned. He is confused at being transported from Kamino, and does not know if he was transported to the future or they were tanspote to the past. Frankly by all measures ARC trainer Cody is one of the most stable people in the room.

Current Cody is sure that his younger self should not meet any members of Ghost Company on the basis that he would never live it down. He is also facing the horror of the chips, confusion at the triplicatation that is going on. His horror is that much deeper than his younger self because he knows and cares for Obi Wan (Light CodyWan for the win). He is also quite worried for his older self.

Melida/Daan Obi Wan is still not sure if he is willing to let any of the adults in the room near the other children. He is also doing slightly better with the fact that he grows up to be a general then the fact that he went back to the Jedi. He is also very much a child soldier with all the trauma therein.

Old Ben is not sure if this would be his heaven or his hell. On the one hand he could feel in the Force that he was before Order 66, all the lives he had felt snuff out were alive and well. On the other hand, there were three Anakins in the room, at least one of which hated him. Also he thought getting beheaded would get him out of dealing with more Skywalker BS.

General Obi Wan Kenobi is more than a little horrified. His connection to the Unified Force means that he is perceiving echoes of Order 66 through the future counterparts AND the variety of trauma that exists in the younger counterparts simultaneously. In addition, both his younger self and Anakin’s younger self are each triggering unresolved trauma.

Padawan Commander Ahsoka Tano is staring at her older self in awe, when she was not staring at Vader in horror. She has also been herded to one corner of the room by Former Padawan Obi Wan, despite the fact that she is 16 to his 14.

Fulcrum makes the decision that she CANNOT deal with the Vader/Anakin revelation at this point and is blocking it out. Instead she is staring at Old Ben. And glancing at her younger self, wondering how much being Anakin’s padawan had damaged her view of the Order.

Little Ahsoka has calmed, now that she was securely held by a warmer than average Cadet Rex.

Post Empire Rex is so, so done. This was supposed to be retirement. Being dragged back to the clone wars is not retirement. It was nice to see Fulcrum again though.

Cadet Rex is the definition of stress. He is not sure what test is going on, nor who these new trainers were but he would not fail.

Captain Rex is not sure what to do with the proof that he would survive the war. Nor the fate of his general as he stares at the tall black clad being.

Darth Vader, in addition to all the issues he always carries, is looking at his younger self covetously. Had he had a way he would have tried to possess his younger self, who has everything he wants. At the same time he wants to sit this younger version down and tell him exactly how to avoid everything that Vader is (It should be noted that Vader has no idea how to avoid all that Vader is). He is also boiling angry at every version of Obi Wan, though distantly looks at the little angry version and wonders if this was a way to get his brother back. The knowledge of Luke’s survival is drawing him back toward the single selfless thing he has done in decades, but he is still very much a Sith.

Child Anakin is deeply confused and frankly ecstatic that he hasn’t blown up yet. It is very clear they are not on Tatooine and nowhere near Watto. He is also not impressed that he somehow escaped slavery only to become enslaved again (in his perception Vader is also chip controlled and thus enslaved).

General Anakin Skywalker is freaked out by Vader, who is radiating a weird greed at him, and also by the implications of everything the future people have said. He is also heartbroken over Palpatine being evil (even Vader agrees, in his own way, that Palpatine is evil). Everything strikes deep enough that Anakin actually decided he needed a therapist (There is something about the casual way that Vader talks about torturing Anakin and Padme’s children that cements that decision).

It turns out that the Artifact is the entire temple, so removing it is not feasible.

Like in the original idea, I am not sure if the past and future versions find themselves eventually returning to their own times, or if they are stuck in the present. Though there is something that is amusing about the Jedi now having to deal with three of each of these five people, one of which is a Sith. Particularly since Vader both wants to kill them all and wants to protect them all (to prevent Anakin’s Fall).

It does change so many things though.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars #fanfiction prompt #star wars au #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #codywan #anidala #bamf obi wan

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that-sw-writer · 3 months

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Carpe Diem

Summary: Hondo Ohnaka plays matchmaker for his favourite Jedi, much to Obi-Wan's dismay.

Relationship: Obi-Wan x Reader (fem, no use of Y/N)

Notes: this story is more about Hondo being the bane of Obi-Wan's life than it is about the relationship, it's been sat in my drafts for a year so I gave it a swift ending.

Carpe Diem

'Kenobi, why the long face?' Hondo threw himself down beside a disgruntled Obi-Wan, who was nursing a drink in his left hand as he slumped over the table.

'Because it's been two rotations since I heard from the council and I think another night spent here is going to be the death of me.'

'You wound me, Master Jedi. What is there not to like about crash landing on Hondo's turf?' He grinned, throwing an arm around Obi-Wan, who merely grimaced. He didn't hate Hondo, per se. He just found him... exhausting.

'Perhaps the fact that last time I had a prolonged stay here, I was being held hostage by you. Pardon me if I don't trust your sudden sense of hospitality.'

'Bah! Do not cling to the past, Kenobi. I would never sell you out.' Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look. 'What? It would not be profitable to bring the Separatists here. The Republic, on the other hand, will pay handsomely for your stay.'

'Mm, quite.' Too tired to argue, Obi-Wan returned to sulking into his drink. He had been sure to pour his own drinks whilst in Hondo and his pirates' company; especially after last time.

'Jedi... so boring.' Hondo flapped his arms in his usual theatrical manner as he went off to bother somebody else. A long sigh left Obi-Wan's lips as he drained the contents of his glass. Maker, he must have looked so miserable. The council had assured him that a pickup was imminent, but the nature of war meant that plans were always subject to delays. He knew they were coming for him, he just didn't know when. Not to mention that he wasn't sure how much more of Hondo's babbling he could take. But, he knew he had to remain calm. The Council would be sending someone to collect him and, provided he remained unharmed, Hondo would likely receive his credits as compensation. It was just his luck that he would crash on Florrum. All these pirates did was drink, thieve, drink some more, and create more noise than Obi-Wan had ever thought possible. He had barely slept a wink for the past few nights. If the noise wasn't bad enough, Hondo's "guest quarters," as he had called them, were just a repurposed cell. Obi-Wan had decided that he would never complain about the hard beds aboard Jedi cruisers again.

After too long spent wallowing in his self-pity, he decided to retire for the night and meditate in the privacy of his "guest quarters." What caught his attention before he could leave the room was a voice he didn't recognise, one that stood out from the crowd. Whoever this was, they were yelling at one of Hondo's men in a Coruscanti accent similar to his own.

'Be a thieving pirate all you like, but do not test me. Give me my credits, or you won't make it to the end of that drink.' As Obi-Wan approached, he saw a blaster being pointed at one of Hondo's right-hand men. The woman behind it appeared to be very calm. Despite her cutting words, her tone remained level - something about her demeanour made Obi-Wan believe that she meant her threat.

'I'm not payin' for a job that didn't get completed.' The pirate slurred, his drink sloshing over the brim of his glass as he threw his arms up in protest.

'Are you trying to scam me, or are you just plain stupid?' Perhaps emphasising her point, she tapped the pirate's forehead with the barrel of her blaster. He was about to respond and escalate the situation even more, but Obi-Wan stepped in before he could. He knew it was none of his business, but it was his natural instinct as a Jedi to help.

'I'd assume he's both.' With the same calm tone as hers, but lacking the vicious edge, Obi-Wan caught the woman's attention. She glanced at him, whilst her blaster remained pointed at the pirate. Her eyes scanned him up and down, doing a double-take.

'A Jedi... on Florrum?' Her brow furrowed.

'Yes. Although this isn't my first choice of holiday destination, believe me.' His words made the corners of her lips turn up into the smallest of smirks. Obi-Wan felt an uncontrollable desire to smile back at her. It seemed as though his usual composure had abandoned him... perhaps Hondo had encouraged him to have one too many drinks.

'Are drunken pirates not your thing?' She laughed and his heart rate increased. Why? Why did it increase?

'Are they yours?' He nodded his head towards the drunkard at the end of her blaster.

'Don't get clever with me, Jedi-' she was smirking, but her expression dropped when she spotted movement in her peripherals. The pirate she had been arguing with was trying to sneak away from his impending death. Obi-Wan could tell that didn't sit well with this mystery woman. 'And you,' she launched forward, grabbing the pirate by his neck, 'better have those credits in my account by sunrise, otherwise, I'll make you regret ever being born. Am I understood?' Her last sentence was punctuated by her blaster tapping the pirate's temple.

'Yeah, yeah.' He slurred, flapping his arms as he stumbled away. Obi-Wan could sense that the pirate knew her threat was genuine. Her blaster was finally holstered and she turned to face him properly.

'I hope you're not expecting a thank you.' She raised an eyebrow.

'Not at all, I've come to expect very little from the clientele around here.' His reply elicited a short laugh from her.

'Very wise.' Neither of them spoke another word, but neither of them moved away. Obi-Wan could feel the Force poking at him, pointing out an unspoken desire to keep the conversation going. But, he bottled it.

'Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I was just about to retire for the evening.' He couldn't read her expression, but he thought that was probably for the best. He wished he'd forced himself to find something else to talk about; in his head, he could picture Anakin making fun of him. A snarky comment along the lines of: 'veryyy smooth, Master.' sprung to mind.

'Right, you're a Jedi,' she gave a slow nod and a flash of something akin to disappointment crossed her face.

'Meaning?' Rest forgotten, his brow quirked.

'Meaning... you're a Jedi. Lightsaber swinging, righteous, peacekeeper with morals.' Her nose scrunched at the last word.

'And I suppose spending my evening surrounded by immoral, uncivilised criminals doesn't fit that job description.' His eyes widened as he realised the implications of his words, 'not that you're an immoral, uncivilised criminal. I-I mean, you're... you know, you're...' As he continued to stumble over every syllable he tried to utter, she burst into laughter.

'I'm sure I should be flattered by whatever it is that you're trying to insinuate, Master Jedi. But, your first observation was right: I am all of those things, and hanging around people like me doesn't fit your job description.' Every word that left her lips convinced Obi-Wan more and more that she had some kind of Force sensitivity that was causing him to melt on the spot. There she was, admitting to him that she was a criminal - he had already seen her threaten someone at blaster-point. But, something about her was more intoxicating than anything Hondo had offered him to drink. Silence befell the pair of them again, but this time Obi-Wan decided to seize the moment and stop the Anakin-like voice in his head from mocking him.

'I'm sure one more drink before retiring won't hurt. Besides, since I've been here I've found it hard to sleep with all the noise.'

'Yeah, you get used to that.'

'Would you care to join me?' He really felt like he was putting his life on the line here. Dozens of Battle Droids could be standing before him and he wouldn't break a sweat. But, a beautiful bounty hunter and suddenly his resolve was crumbling. She looked somewhat surprised by his invitation, but a smile soon settled on her face.

'Sure, why not? Drinking with a Jedi isn't something you get offered every day.' Obi-Wan nodded in response and glanced to his left, looking for a quieter spot that would keep him away from the prying eyes and ears of pirates. He saw some empty seats at the end of a long table that was littered with Hondo's clientele, all drinking and jeering with one another. The pair of them sat down, but it dawned upon him that he was out of his depth in this setting.

'I, uh- I'm not entirely sure how you get drinks here.' He exhaled a sheepish chuckle, 'usually, I pour my own.'

'And why's that? You don't seem like the bartending type to me.'

'Let's just say that last time Hondo poured me a drink, I woke up in handcuffs.' He grimaced at the memory... handcuffed to Dooku and Anakin no less.

'Handcuffed?' She laughed, 'that was probably just Hondo's idea of a good time.' Normally he would have rolled his eyes at such a comment, but when it came from her he couldn't help but match her laughter.

'Believe me, these circumstances weren't what anybody would describe as a "good time."'

'Maybe where you're from, Master Jedi, but I think you'll find that there are a lot of things we enjoy here that you might... well, arrest us for.'

'Do my eyes deceive me-' A voice cut through the crowd and Obi-Wan willed the ground to swallow him up, '-or is Kenobi still here?' Hondo threw himself down at the table and looked between the pair of them. 'Socialising nonetheless!' He cackled.

'Hondo, do you not have somewhere else you should be?' Obi-Wan hoped he would pick up on the subtle hints in his tone, but who was he kidding? Hondo wouldn't pick up on it if he had outwardly told him to leave him alone with the outlandishly beautiful bounty hunter.

'Somewhere else? You mistake me, Kenobi. I am here to attend to my very esteemed Jedi guest and his-' Hondo's gaze moved to his companion '-new friend.'

'Hondo, always a pleasure.' She greeted him with what Obi-Wan could only describe as a flawless smile. It seemed almost like a reflex - something she had perfected through years of practice.

'Ah! My favourite hunter spending time with my favourite Jedi - what a surprise this is.'

'You should be thanking him, he stopped me from killing one of your crew.' She shot Obi-Wan a smirk. He willed himself to remain composed, especially with Hondo there.

'If he had died, I am sure it would have been deserved,' Hondo flapped his arm in dismissal before throwing it around Obi-Wan's shoulders. He responded to this with a disgruntled expression. 'Of course, this dashing Jedi Master stepped in to save the day. He is, after all, a hero.' Hondo exhaled a whimsical sigh, and Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. He was never this complimentary without an ulterior motive, only he couldn't work out the angle this time.

'I'll drink to that.' Despite Hondo's odd behaviour, she didn't seem to be discouraged.

'But alas, you have no drink,' Hondo shook his head and tutted. 'Kenobi, how could leave your lady-friend sat here practically dying of thirst?'

'I never-' he began to protest, much to his "lady-friend's" amusement.

'-come come, Kenobi. Let us go and fetch the drinks.' Hondo was ushering him out of his seat before he had a chance to process what was happening. He gave a fleeting glance back at the bounty hunter and decided that this was all worth it when he saw the way she laughed. He followed Hondo over to the bar, where hordes of pirates were gathering to get themselves drinks - many of which were sloshing out over the brim of the glasses as they stumbled away.

'What in the stars are you doing, Hondo?' He pinched the bridge of his nose, only speaking once they were out of earshot.

'Me?' He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. 'Why, Kenobi, I am just trying to enjoy an evening with my esteemed guest. How was I supposed to know that you would be socialising with your new friend?' There was a wry tone to his words.

'She's a bounty hunter, Hondo. We aren't friends, per se.'

'Not friends at all it seems. In fact, Hondo would wager that you're more than friends.' He elbowed Obi-Wan, letting out a loud cackle. As Obi-Wan stammered over his words, trying to make up some kind of viable excuse, Hondo leaned over the bar and ordered a round of drinks. When his attention returned to the Jedi, he laughed once again. 'Now now, Kenobi. There is no need for excuses.'

'I'm not making-' he began to huff, but Hondo didn't even register his voice.

'-what you need, Master Jedi, is a pep talk from old Hondo.' With a roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan attempted to interrupt, but Hondo shushed him. 'Kenobi, listen here. What happens on Florrum, stays on Florrum... mostly, anyway.'

'Wise words, as ever.' He snorted.

'Nevertheless! You must seize the day, Kenobi. That,' he gestured to the striking woman who now sat alone at the table, 'is one of the best bounty hunters in the outer rim. You would be a fool to let her pass you by.'

'You never do anything without an angle. You always have something to gain, I just can't work out what it is this time.'

'This is true, this true.' Hondo tutted, shaking his head, 'but can't old Hondo do something for an old Jedi friend out of the kindness of his own heart, just once?'

'No, you can't.' Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as a momentary pause.

'Pish posh, Master Jedi.' Hondo threw himself to grab the tray of drinks when it arrived. 'I just want you to have a pleasant stay. Besides, if the Jedi council do ever arrive to collect you, I'm sure they'd be willing to heavily compensate such a... generous host.'

'So you mentioned.' If Obi-Wan had a credit for every time Hondo hinted at the Republic paying for his stay, he'd have enough for early retirement.

'Come along now, you can't keep a bounty hunter waiting.' With that, he shoved the tray of drinks into Obi-Wan's hands and pushed him back towards the table. As they approached, his companion's face lit up and he swore he had never seen anything that beautiful in his life. 'How generous of Kenobi to buy all of the drinks,' Hondo announced unnecessarily loudly.

'Did he now?' He could tell that she understood Hondo's angle but must have found it amusing enough to play along.

'I told him that as his host, I would pay. But, he has insisted on giving me the credits back, didn't you, Kenobi.' A hand outstretched in Obi-Wan's direction and he raised an eyebrow.

'Really?' He knew there was no point in arguing. With a roll of his eyes, he tossed a few credits into Hondo's palm. Any excuse to make money...

'You see that? Generous.' Hondo threw himself down beside the woman, opposite Obi-Wan.

'Hm, well that is the Jedi way, is it not?' She smirked over at him.

'I'm sure being generous isn't just limited to Jedi.' He chuckled, taking a long sip of his drink. Over the rim of the glass, he could see Hondo staring at him, as if he was expecting him to say something else.

'It is in this place, trust me.' She laughed, but he noticed that she was eyeing up his silent exchange with Hondo. After a beat of silence, she exclaimed, 'Kriff, is that a fight over there?' She pointed over Hondo's shoulder and he immediately whipped around, 'shame nobody's taking bets.' She tutted and Obi-Wan had to drink again to hide a laugh at the pirate's expense. Hondo scrambled to his feet and cleared his throat.

'Alas, I have another business venture to pursue. Remember Kenobi, seize the day.' He yelled, before scurrying off. Obi-Wan put his head in his hands and groaned.

'I think I'm in your debt for that.' He withdrew his hands and drank the remainder of his drink at a faster pace than he would usually deem appropriate.

'I'm sure we can find a way for you to repay me.' Her tone, combined with the words, had Obi-Wan's composure turning to dust.

'What do you have in mind?' He hadn't intended for his tone to sound as flirtatious as it did

'That depends, how attached are you to those Jedi morals of yours?' She paused, 'no pun intended.' Obi-Wan was slightly taken aback - was the forbidding of attachment that well-documented? Even if it were, why did he care that she knew about it?

'I'm not one to question my morals, but the definition of attachment is... somewhat flexible.' He was losing himself in the thought of it; stranded with pirates, a bounty hunter who seemed as intelligent and dangerous as she did gorgeous, and a desire bubbling up that he hadn't felt in as long as he could remember. Was the attitude of the pirates rubbing off on him, or had he had too much to drink? Either way, he really wanted to kiss her.

'It's funny how spending time surrounded by... how did you put it? Immoral, uncivilised criminals can change a man.' Her teasing statement was accompanied by a sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving his from the rim of the glass. When she lowered her glass she took a bold step towards him, 'define flexible.' She smirked, and Obi-Wan thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest with the speed it was beating.

Maker, it wasn't as though he was going to marry her. He had heard tales of Jedi bending the rules in far more serious ways. For liquid courage, he drew his head far enough away from her to empty the remainder of his drink. 'Do you want the dictionary definition, or the metaphorical one?' Having regained some of his wit, he grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

'You talk too much, Jedi.' She laughed, pulling him towards her so their lips would meet in a passionate blaze. He barely had a chance to react, but quickly settled into the kiss. It was safe to say that this was the highlight of his unplanned stay on Florrum - maybe it had even made the trip worthwhile. The pair's lips moved in tandem for a few moments longer before they separated. 'How do you fancy spending the night on my ship tonight? I may even throw in a lift home for you.' Their lips remained close and her voice was low - it was as if it were just the two of them in the room.

'I wouldn't dare decline, I've already seen what happens to those who get on your bad side.' He smirked and the way her face lit up with a laugh had Obi-Wan ready to do anything she wanted him to.

'What was it Hondo said? Seize the day, Master Jedi... meet me in the hanger in five.' Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, she left his arms and disappeared into the crowd before he could utter another word - something he was struggling to manage. He shook himself off and moved to gather his belongings from the repurposed cell that had been his home for the past few days. This seemed like a win win situation - a night with the bounty hunter and he would be dropped back home.

'Kenobi!' Hondo bellowed across the room causing Obi-Wan to stop in his tracks and take a moment to breathe and centre himself as he prepared for another interaction with the pirate.

'Hondo, I'm afraid I'm retiring for the evening.' He uttered the moment the pair were face to face.

'Tssh, I thought better of you than lying Kenobi.' He tutted, shaking his head in his usual over-dramatic manner. 'Did you think I wasn't watching?'

'I hoped you weren't at least.' He muttered under his breath as Hondo continued his speech.

'Your lady friend is waiting for you, is she not? Now now, I won't keep you long, but it would not be right of me to let you go without giving you some tips-'

'-no no, that absolutely won't be necessary.' Obi-Wan interrupted faster than a pod-race on Tatooine. 'It's like you said Hondo, seize the day, carpe diem, all of that.' He grimaced, giving Hondo a pat on the shoulder as he slid past him and tried to continue his journey.

'Excellent, Kenobi, excellent!' Hondo called after him as he rushed off. 'Just remember, you wouldn't be here without Hondo and his hospitality during a trying time! I expect payment in full Master Jedi, otherwise your next stay will not be so pleasant!'

'Next stay...' Obi-Wan repeated under his breath, rolling his eyes, 'not a chance.' At last free of Hondo's watchful eye, he scurried to gather his belongings and rush to the hanger.

Perhaps, all things considered, crashing on a hostile planet wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to Obi-Wan.

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi #obi wan fanfiction #hondo ohnaka #hondo being hondo #reader insert #clone wars fanfiction

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myheadhurtscutely · 6 months

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With the Band -Rocker!Anakin Skywalker x Reader-

First fic, kinda nervous (>ლ)

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` Anakin, your not boyfriend, boyfriend, has been touring around the area lately, and for some reason he seems like he just can't not have all eyes (and hands) on him..

!Warnings! ` Manipulation, Toxic!Anakin, Gaslighting, Love bombing, anakin just being an asshole in general. Cheating?? kinda. ANGST ANGST ANGST, tiny like smut references??

word count ` 1.6k

You guys weren't a thing. You knew that. He definitely made sure you knew that. You were his thing though. You knew that just as clearly.

Anakin had been touring for about three weeks now. His band was still stumbling through here and there, small faults, technical issues, band arguments. You saw it all. You had been there since day one. In highschool Anakin had made up his band consisting of Obi, his bassist. He was a shy kinda guy, didn't say much, but when he did it was nice to hear. His drummer- well nevermind his drummer changed every few weeks. Anakin was as stubborn as he was handsome. He saw it as His band, Obi was the only one who could tolerate his attitude. Anakin of course took the role of lead vocalist AND guitarist.

You had tried to join your freshman year of college as the guitarist, but your best friend, Anakin Skywalker, was just trying to help poor little you stay safe and focused on school. He told you he didn't want grubby hands thinking about you, and perverted eyes, feeling you up. You were just a girl. He made sure you understood. You were reasonably upset by this, but Ani fixed that after a couple of after show parties in the basements of venues... more specifically, the bathrooms.

It started as just a onetime thing. Both of you were intoxicated and you did what two friends, who have had undeniable chemistry since highschool after some alcohol and bud, do. Hook-up. It really was just flings here and there, Anakin bombed a test? Your phone would light up. 'hey r u busy rn?' Sure, you had an eight-page paper due by tomorrow, but yeah besides that you were free. free use. Anakin's drummer he got last Tuesday cussed him out and left? Ding! 'i need you rn'. You couldn't deny you're closest friend comfort. It was a vicious cycle. You felt awful, you really did. It was like you knew what he was doing, but you felt like there was no way out.. besides, he needed you. He also needed the 18 other girls around campus that rotated shifts in his bed when he wasn't playing gigs. But he told you, you were special, he meant it surely.

This night was special. It was the BIG gig. It was in the middle of the tour, the largest number of tickets sold at one of the biggest venues they could book. It was downtown at one of the smaller stages meant for local artist, but it was right next to the college nearby. Prime market. young women. pretty girls. desperate college chicks. Anakin knew what he was after by the end of this show, but you follow him obliviously up the stairs with your "v.i.p." pit pass behind him. Your already ripped stockings tearing on the metal fencing up the stairs. Anakin only hauled his guitar, refusing to help Obi and you carry any of the sound equipment. It's okay though, it's just cause he's hungover and his throats a little sore. Obi-wan grunts, hauling literally everything known to man, amps, cords, a random bass drum? Probably belonging to the drummer that left this past Friday. You held drinks, bags, clothes, food, and some lighting equipment. Anakin insisted on a fog machine also, which conveniently got left at home two hours away. God bless you Obi.

You dropped your stuff and rushed to give Anakin a peck on the cheek, which he quickly dismissed annoyedly. 'He's probably just stressed out,' you fought in an attempt to reason with yourself. After giving Obi-wan a thumbs up and a wishful good luck, you are quickly rushed off the wings of the stage, to the back of the pit. What the fuck? You could b a r e l y see the rail at the front of the stage through the sea of crappy highlights, and slutty tops. Oh well, lights come up, Anakins standing there, soaking up all of it. The attention, the lights, the sounds, the attention, the crowd, the attention, the attention, the attention. Excitement boiled in your stomach. Seeing him in his white tank top, stained with god knows what. His box bleached frosted tips at the very edges of his grown out hair. Sweaty and shiny from the lights, he was a sight to behold. An image to have every man and woman on their knees begging for a peek. You and Anakin knew that.

The set started out with his earlier tracks inspired by the likes of deftones and superhaven. His sweat dripped down from his chin, to his angular neck. His adams apple dancing with the runs erupting from his vocals. No one could admire him as deeply as you did. No one could appreciate his stage presence the way you did. Like the way the spotlight, contrasted harshly with his tanned skin, highlighting his carved cheeks and white teeth.

As he continued, you began to push your way to the front, fighting as if it was a ragging mosh pit at a Victoria's Secret perfume clearance sale. Clouds of vapor and smoke raised high creating Anakin's own fog machine. Second hand highs at these shows were a guarantee. Still pushing past sweaty bodies, with heavy drums and piercing guitar pounding in your ears, you slowly became disoriented. It was as if it was all hitting you, the meds were wearing off or something. you were suffocating, drowning in a large sea, with your only chance of safety just a few inches ahead.

You grab the rail.

Consciousness is regained and so is your composure. Smeared sweaty make up, clouds your vision, but you saw. You saw clear as day. He had leaned down from the stage and kissed her. Kissed her. Right on the lips. This was his song about you. You were the one with the beautiful eyes he sang about. You were the one he made listen to the strumming pattern of it till you could recite it like a scale. It was yours. For once it was yours. From him.

Glitter rained into your watery eyes, what a poor style choice. If only you would've known he'd kiss a beautiful brunette girl halfway through his set, you probably would've chosen a more neutral palette. Chasing whatever air remained in the world, you gasped, running out from the exit doors. It was already late. The only light illuminating onto your back was the exit sign and a streetlamp on the other side of the alley. The bands van was parked crookedly in a nook between the garbage cans and the dented fire hydrant. locked. Yay! and it was raining. You started to think that maybe you were in a dramatic romance novel. The rain really was just unnecessary. Regardless, you rampaged back into the back door, left unlocked in case of a fire. Storming up the steps, you could hear the unplugging of a turned on amp, causing a shrill amongst the chatty, squealing crowd. Anakin's figure became visible from the wings, Obi-wan following in after him. Without a thought going through your mind, you ran right up to him and slapped his chest. His head snapped in your direction, with his attention previously being on the cheering crowd behind him.

"Hey! What the fuck is your problem?" His arms throw themselves up in frustration.

"Don't play dumb with me, you fucking kissed her! You kissed her Anakin? You, you said that wouldn't happen." Your voice quivered as he mumbled, guiding the both of you out the door and into the rain, away from the scene you had just caused backstage.

His arms swarm you like an unwelcome crowd of bats. clouding your vision. In more ways than one. You thrashed but only for a second before completely crumbling in the man's arms. Sobs stained his disgusting tank top. Your cries drowned by the leaving crowd at the front of the building, and the heavy downpour casting you and Anakin in your own little shell.

"You know better than to expect me not to push the bands publicity. It might be better for you just to stay backstage from now on. Or go stay with one of your other guys when I do shows." How did his snide words warm you so sincerely...? He was right though. You knew better. You couldn't be upset; it was for the band. After he made it big, he'd be yours and yours alone. You knew the deal.

"m' sorry Ani, I just-"

"Don't call me that right now. You hurt my goddamn feelings." He shoves you away from his chest. "I was having a great show and then you came backstage screaming at me, putting on a pathetic show like always." He knew where to plant his knife and how to dig it around inside you. It cut you up completely. Every time.

You couldn't do anything but sob. Every show you'd go into it expecting a different outcome. You were the stupid one. You were the idiot. It was your fault. He was right and you knew it. There was nothing you could say to combat it. You just cried.

He paused for a moment. The both of you standing in the pouring rain. You, staring at the ground as he watched the rain fall. "fuck.." you could hear him curse under his breath.

"I'm sorry Anakin. really." He said nothing, dragging you back into his chest, kissing your forehead, swaying the both of you back and forth. His wet hair, dripping onto your nose after he pulls away slightly.

"Look at me," he takes your cheeks in his hands, "It's gonna be okay, just try to be better for me next time 'kay?" He finishes it off with a soft kiss to your puffed and dry lips.

"I love you." He hums in a lack of response.

Notes ` first fic, longer than i meant it to be, proof read before bed, so barely, thank youu <3 (hell if its anakin skywalker i will let him act this way, sure young man, be outta pocket..)

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #star wars x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #angst #anakin skywalker fanfic #rocker!anakin x reader #myheadhurtscutely

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princesscolumbia · 6 months

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So about the musical episode...

This is specifically geared to "Subspace Rhapsody," which if you haven't watched it shame on you go now and watch go go go go!!!

So by the end of the ep everything goes back to normal and it turns out the real musical ensemble was the friends we made along the way etc., but what if it didn't?!

Yes, there'd be immediate consequences; highly classified secrets getting out, relationships starting and ending, etc.

But humans adapt, and since the other species in the galaxy are the same kind of "fuck you, I'm surviving!" results of evolution, they'd all adapt, too.

First off, the big one: It'd be like that post where somehow Anakin and Obi-wan can hear the musical score an realize Palpatine is a sith lord; the bad guys would be outed, like, the SECOND their musical number started up. Khan would have been identified before the Enterprise even finished scanning the Botony Bay, the Prime Directive would have to get a big 'ol asterisk pointing to a clause describing the specific mathematical properties of different types of music the crew can expect to hear when approaching a potential first contact. Science experiments would be (metaphorically) killed on the spot because the "mad scientist" theme would start playing.

But a century on? Well, everyone would have adapted...

The Vulcans would have come up with an entirely new discipline; Rhythmic Logic. Rather akin to rap, it'd be syncopated speaking with periodic inflections to denote emphasis on certain points, and the passive aggressive sass levels would be off the CHARTS. Counterintuitive to most Vulcan training for centuries, to properly learn and master this new discipline, the Vulcans would need to induce moments of high emotion to properly initiate the musical triggering conditions, but once started their logic and ability to freestyle would then be put to use to focus and direct the song.

Andorians would be less about the singing and more about choreography. Their troop movements would be works of martial art and their ability to synchronize with each other during operations (any operation, whether medical, business, black-ops, etc.) would be legendary throughout the galaxy. When xenoanthropologists start proposing theories, the truth is swiftly buried for the sanity of the galaxy; since the "musical universe" is based on human musicals, Andorian affinity for good choreography is rooted in figure skating.

Tellarites would unabashedly embrace Weird Al as a sort-of prophet/god once they figured out that parody is the sincerest form of insult. Whatever musical number you're performing, the Tellarites will ride on top of it and twist it in crass ways until the song they sing drowns out whatever they're parodying and is considered the superior work. This, amusingly, results in relations between Tellar and Earth to improve as "bards" of both races across every strata of society compete to see who can make the better parody.

Romulans would lean into the villain pieces, like, unironically. Go to a diplomatic party on Romulus and you're beset by a massive orchestral work of interweaving harmonies as a melody of every big number and quiet ballad are melded together in a symphony of intrigue, emotion, politics, and betrayal. Yes, there's good Romulans, but because their music is JUST as "villainous" as the heroes, it's nearly impossible to tell them apart. Somewhat ironically, it's That One Romulan who only sings spritely songs in a major key that turns out to be the baddest, most lethal Romulan of all.

Klingon society would fracture into new houses based on musical style. The "Old Guard" would be the Klingons who break out into Klingon Opera on the regular. K-pop would be known for being vicious berserkers. Shakespere may be beloved by the Klingons, but the Soviet Anthems would become THE way to unify the Klingons during the "cold war" era.

Once the effect stretched into the Delta Quadrant (nobody in the quadrant knows why they've suddenly started breaking into song, and it isn't until well after Voyager returns home that someone in a university history department is given access to the full history of the Borg's interaction with Starfleet that they realize that it was Q launching the Enterprise D into the Delta Quadrant that created the contact), the Hirogen would come to be known for their absolutely epic power-metal ballads. Their "hunting axes" would become some variety of electric guitar almost overnight.

Because Voyager's crew had grown up with the "random" musicals, Voyager has a leg up on the entire Delta Quadrant, further solidifying Janeway as an unmitigated badass when she uses her absolute mastery of the musical forms to kick ass in every genre.

Cultures that had been introduced to warp flight badly (turns out the Federation had the right idea with the Prime Directive, just not for reasons that anyone could have ever predicted) can always be identified as being...cut rate. It'd be like going from a Broadway Musical production of Hamilton to encountering that one "Christian" production where they butchered the lyrics and the "b-list" actors were the best they could get.

Cardasians would be all about the martial themes. Even their counterculture movements would be all about the percussion-heavy 4:4 musical numbers.

Bajorans would be split between Broadway Musical-style numbers that seem to take inspiration from plays like "West Side Story" and Epic Battle Hymns sung by every Bajoran involved in a given conflict that reach deep into your soul and make you feel simultaneously victorious and deeply sad for reasons you can't quite identify.

The Borg would be EDM for some reason. Nobody is quite sure why.

Even the species that sent the whale probe in the 23rd century wouldn't be spared. Dubstep...dubstep everywhere!

Section 31 and the Tal Shiar would be in a black-ops weapons race to see who can weaponize the musicals the most effectively.

Time travelers would have a blast. Turns out the big reason for the Temporal Cold War was to stop a massive Temporal Prime Directive violating wave of time tourists who just want to go back to a time before musicals were a fact of life. Mariner and Boimler wouldn't even realize they hadn't broken out into song once until they returned to the 24th century.

Humans would be driving everyone nuts. A species that had adapted to using Rent-style musical numbers to form social collectives that were so "in-crowd" that nobody else could even think of joining would suddenly find this one asshole human that picked up on it and was fitting in perfectly. Klingon slasher ballads would be met with children's cartoon bubbly pop music. Andorians would be simultaneously overjoyed at having companions that could work so perfectly with them and appalled that another species dared to get on the ice with them.

The only beings immune to the whole thing would be the Q. The reason Q was the one interacting with Picard? He's the only Q that can stand the whole universe turning into a musical! He's "the band nerd" in Q high school, the one that'll break into a situationally appropriate musical hit number from that one Broadway play when nobody wants to hear you singing Q! Q doesn't have to sing like the lesser species, but by golly he WANTS to and he's GONNA!

#star trek #star trek voyager #star trek prodigy #star trek lower decks #star trek picard #star trek tos #star trek tng #star trek ds9 #star trek strange new worlds #subspace rhapsody

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yourneighborhoodporg · 6 months

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The Guardian

Chapter 2: The Revelation

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: hella abandonment, angst, mention of deceased character, banter, fluff, self-doubt, lore-building, reference to enslavement, reference to life-threatening danger.

Summary: In the evening, as the four of you arrive at the shelter, Obi-Wan becomes curious about your past from this time of rest and conversation. While Anakin and Ahsoka conduct repairs the next morning, Obi-Wan decides to stay behind to find answers, his unclear intentions putting you on edge. What he discovers, however, will change his, Anakin's, and the Galaxy's future forever.

Song Inspo: Superwoman — Alicia Keys

Words: 7.2K (it's a big boi)

A/n: THANK YOUUU for the wonderful messages, likes, and reblogs. You’ve made my week! I'm planning on making a taglist so message me if you'd like to be on it. Was so excited to write this one for y’all. Keep your thoughts coming 🥹 Also, poor obi (we mess with him a lil’ in this one 😅)

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Series Masterlist

Sometimes a ‘mistake’ can end up being the best decision you’ve ever made — Mandy Hale

The journey to the shelter was tiring, but serene. Snow begun to fall a few hours into the trip, its accumulation gradually adding to the weight on your shoulders and boots. Yet you were distracted from the intensifying ache in every joint by the allure of nature’s frosty expanse. The beauty of each shimmering flake accented by the setting sun made you fall in love with Hoth all over again.

Oh, and that sunset. Its red and orange and yellow hues blended together in their final dance before dusk. A pleasant yet shocking contrast to the landscape’s muted whites and shaded grays.

Yes, it was challenging at times, and if you were truly honest with yourself, each moment felt like part of some long, never-ending trial. Everyday, the instant your skin met the chilly outdoors, you were perpetually on high alert. The wildlife was vicious and unpredictable, the terrain bare, the climate deadly.

But then, there were the majesties— the snowfall, the half-light shades, the way the light reflected off milky surfaces all around you. In moments like these, you felt deeply intertwined with the world, even though you’ve never really explored it. Yet despite your isolation, you’ve always found a way to make the most of it. You had a knack for manufacturing fun in the most bleak circumstances. But even that’s been hard to do in the last decade.

You missed him. You really did. And you wondered every second whether this would be the day he returned. Your friend, your mentor, your…

You couldn’t say it. Your heart ached boundlessly.

You’d tell him face-to-face once he returned. And you knew he’d return.

No matter how long he’d been away, sometimes months at a time, he would always bring you the most delectable treats from a place called Corellia. Sweet rolls, if you remember correctly. On the first day of visiting weeks, whether you were studying, training, or reading through old legends, the moment you heard the distant rumble of his shuttle’s engines, you took off sprinting. Up the ladder you’d go, holobooks thrown to the side in chaos, as you booked it to his favorite landing spot. You’d always forget your cloak, making your meeting with the freezing snow an unwelcome one. But you weren’t deterred, not even by the ship’s manufactured mini snow devils that swayed your stance and blinded your vision.

He was always quick to shut off the power before you reached him, opening the door to lightly reprimand you for getting too close to the ship when he was trying to land. But you had only one response.

“Did you bring the sweet rolls?”

And he would laugh, heartily. And reach into his robe to pull out the most mouthwatering fluffed sweet you’d ever seen. You’d grab it with a wide grin, biting your lip as you salivated before running back into the shelter. He’d smile gently at your retreating form. Not that you’ve ever seen it, but his fondness brimmed the air.

You’d wonder if he was reminiscing too, wherever he was. Maybe he was staring up at the same stars as you. Maybe he was on his way here at this very second.

“Y/n?”

Obi-Wan pulled you out of your fantasies with a gentle tap of the shoulder. You turned to him, continuing to walk alongside the man while Ahsoka and Anakin took their turn on Meetra. When you offered your spot to Obi-Wan an hour earlier, he declined, claiming he preferred to walk.

“Are we nearing the shelter? I don’t see any structures around us.” He questioned while observing his surroundings.

“Don’t worry,” you reassured. “It’s right up here.”

You took a few more steps, checking the distance for certain landmarks. The batch of ice caves to the Southeast stood about two kilometers from the small, folded ice mountains to the West. Yes, this looked right, you thought to yourself before kneeling to the ground.

The travelers watched you quizzically as you began to shovel away snow with your hands and arms, the sleet melting and soaking into your thick gloves. Anakin and Ahsoka demounted, inching closer to get a better look. After a few more labored scoops of hardened ice, a glimmer caught your eye. You cleared the sludge collecting around the metal panel, finding a handle, and pulling it up. The hatch fell open with a clang.

“I live beneath the surface.”

You pulled the sack off your back and dragged it in front of you, opening it slightly to grab a few tufts of lichen which you promptly tossed over to Meetra. She huffed contently, leaning over to enjoy her feast. After closing the bag and tossing it back over your shoulder, you shuffled to position yourself over the entryway ladder before beginning the climb down. One at a time, each traveler followed your descent.

—

Obi-Wan reached the bottom of the rickety ladder that swayed with each step before turning to take in the dimly lit shelter. He was amazed. The older Jedi soon realized that the entire structure was an old starship encased in thick ice and packed snow. There were stacks of holobooks, even some hard copy novels, scattered across the left wall around an old, tattered bunk. A built-in desk sat on the opposite side, a datapad lying neatly in the center. Most notably, colorful blankets with varying patterns, thickness, and textures were strewn throughout the cabin, some neatly folded and others stretched out like a Tooka cat. A large maroon curtain with reflective gold stitches and floral tones hung toward the far end, likely concealing a separate room. A table and two chairs stood in the nearby corner. Steel storage tins often used to store smaller items on starships were scattered against the walls, contents unknown.

“Your quarters are beautiful!” Ahsoka exclaimed as her feet met the floor.

She strolled right over to a particular forest green-based textile with honey-shaded swirls. The young Padawan lifted it, feeling the charming item between her fingers. “Where did you get all of these colorful fabrics?”

“I’m not sure. They were all gifts from a friend.”

Obi-Wan noticed your downcast expression as you turned away from the group, placing your bag on the desk.

Meanwhile, Anakin examined the shelter’s walls by the holobooks, similarly feeling the material with the pads of his fingers. He checked its thickness with a light knock.

“Huh,” he thought out loud, before turning toward the gracious host. “Is this a scouting vessel? It reminds me of something I’ve read about the old Duros vessels.”

Obi-Wan hid his astonishment, biting his tongue to hide a cheeky comment about Anakin’s reading escapades that seeped into his thoughts.

You turned back around, this time with a bright smile resting on your face. “Yes, it is! It’s been here long before I ever was.”

Anakin continued to pore over his surroundings, lightly crossing each arm.

“Do you know a lot about ancient vessels?” You inquired before opening the sack and pulling out a clump of… moss? You promptly examined it. “I’ve collected lots of information about them. It helps me understand this shelter better. You’ll probably find something about your ship in one of my holobooks, depending on its age.”

Obi-Wan watched as you finished your botanical observations, placing the moss on your desk.

“Thanks!” Anakin said, kneeling to inspect your collection. “Snips?” He motioned at Ahsoka who promptly joined him.

As the two searched for information about the shuttle from your extensive collection, Obi-Wan decided to try approaching you once more. He walked slowly, but confidently, warning you with his presence with a question.

“What is that?”

Your eyes grazed his briefly before returning your focus, pulling apart the mystery plant.

“This, is lichen.” You answered. “It needs time and space to defrost.”

You glanced at Obi-Wan who was slightly taken aback by the intensity of your unnaturally shimmering silver eyes staring deep into his, but he didn’t dare show it.

“Eat it before it’s fully defrosted and your stomach will not be happy.”

The older Jedi raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Duly noted.” He paused, combing over your words once more. “Is this what you’ve survived on during your time here?”

“Only recently.” You shook some ice dollops off a particularly shaggy clump of lichen. “I used to get rations and the occasional batch of medicinal goods, but that was many years ago.”

Obi-Wan’s head tilted. “Oh? What changed? Did cargo ships stop coming to Hoth?”

“No. Cargo ships had no reason to be here. The occasional group of hunters, sure. But as long as I’ve been here, I’ve never seen any working civilization that requested supplies.”

“So, who aided you?” He asked.

“A friend.”

He hummed, pulling at a strand of hair and twisting it with his fingers. Obi-Wan was intrigued by your vagueness, hoping to further inquire into your story and learn the details you seemed to openly avoid sharing.

“Here,” you tossed him a large clump of lichen.

He barely caught it against his chest in surprise, surveying you in delighted curiosity.

“Get to work,” you teased.

He smiled, pausing to watch you carefully before copying your actions with the frigid, crystallized vegetation. The olive-tinted herb felt rough beneath his fingers, and as he pulled it apart, he thought to himself.

There seemed to be more to you. Obi-Wan believed this largely in view of his past exposure to secluded beings. These encounters granted the bearded Jedi broad experience with aloof, nefarious, and aggressive personalities from pirates to wartime saboteurs. Yet his superficial impressions of your disposition— outward confidence and affable charisma— did not align with these assumptions.

That ushered him toward a new rationalization— you may not be here by choice. It could potentially explain your obscurity, Obi-Wan thought. Especially if you were being held here against your will, and feared your detainer. If he wanted to at least see if he could help, Obi-Wan would need to gather more information. It was the least he could do given the warmth you’ve shown three stranded Jedi, or who you thought were lost travelers.

“Found it!” Ahsoka yelled from behind Obi-Wan.

He finished tearing his last moss clod, leaving it on the desk before turning around.

“Emissary-class shuttle owner’s workshop manual.” She sighed with relief with a victorious beam as she shook the holobook in the air to make her point.

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin squinted at the media before turning to you quizzically. “Why do you have a holobook dedicated to obscure ancient manuals?”

“There isn’t much else to do as the sole sentient being on an ice planet,” you deadpanned.

Obi-Wan internally chuckled at your infallible logic.

Anakin seemed equally unimpressed. “Touché.”

Obi-Wan was shocked by how effectively a stranger dealt with Anakin’s lip. No argument, no snide remark from his former Padawan. Just, acceptance.

He gazed at you, really stared, hoping to get a stronger sense of your force. To better understand you. But when he concentrated on your life energy, he couldn’t find it. Despite the Force’s link to everything in the galaxy, it seemed that didn’t include you.

Maybe you were, in fact, a criminal. Extremely adept at hiding the truth. Obi-Wan thought it quite possible that he missed key indications of illicitness, thanks to this strangely dormant force signature within you. In that case, he would need to stay on guard. It would be unfortunate if the group of Jedi had to defend against an attempted robbery in addition to crash landing on a deserted ice planet, even if it was three to one. But it would be even more serious if this whole meeting was instead a larger Separatist ploy to isolate and trap two powerful generals. But Obi-Wan wouldn’t let that theory hold much water for long. He knew war had made him somewhat paranoid. Either way, the older Jedi found it necessary to learn more about you during this accidental detour to Hoth.

You interrupted the silence before he could continue his analysis.

“There will be plenty of time to read the manual in the morning.” You advised. “I recommend you all sleep soon. The shelter keeps us warmer underground, but the temperature will still drop drastically soon. It’s best to sleep through it.”

Obi-Wan was warmed by your compassion. “Thank you for your concern.”

He turned to his former Padawan with a knowing look. It was doubtful that Anakin would follow your instructions, he thought. But it’s still better to be polite. At least Obi-Wan certainly knew from the pull of his eyelids and the discomfort in his knees that he would accept your guidance. Even if you were a criminal, it was nearly impossible to steal from a Jedi, even during sleep.

“We will take your advice.”

“Feel free to use the various linens. The bunk is also open to you. Good night.”

Obi-Wan watched as you turned on your heel and walked toward the curtains behind you, disappearing behind them.

He stared at the shimmering, dark red screen that separated the two of you. His conclusion was that you were an enigma, and Obi-Wan found that fascinating. His curiosity was always piqued by the unknown, which would drive his exploratory mind. There seemed to be so much more to you, but he could only scratch the surface. Your intelligence, kindness, and resourcefulness reminded him of great leaders’ and soldiers’ personalities. And yet, here you were, a solitudinarian on a distant planet in the Outer Rim, spending your days reading old holobooks or collecting moss. More and more, he doubted that you had any unlawful connections. But there was still surely more to your story.

He needed to learn who you were, how you got here, and the identity of this mysterious friend, hoping that these answers assured you were here by choice. As a Jedi, however, he was primarily obligated to discover why he failed to register your life force. He wished, no, he found it imperative to solve this mystery before departing from the planet. Though he also hoped to respect your privacy, not prod into your being and mind when you were winding down to rest. Obi-Wan hoped to avoid that altogether unless absolutely necessary. He was The Negotiator after all, and he knew well that gathering information through a conversation rather than prying at your mind would lead to more trust and a clearer picture in the long run.

Obi-Wan’s ears caught shuffling behind him. He twisted to watch Ahsoka collect a few fabrics across the floor while Anakin hunkered down around the holobooks with a few nearby blankets. Obi-Wan snapped a mental image of the scene. He doubted he would ever again have the rare privilege to glimpse at Anakin and a pile of holobooks so intimately collected with brows dipped in concentration. He was clearly desperate to leave this planet, a cold twin to Tatooine. The moment they landed, Obi-Wan was sure that in the back of Anakin’s mind, he was struggling with his memories as a slave boy. This detour was too much of a reminder. Manuals and shuttle specs seemed to serve as his distraction, but he knew it wasn’t enough.

The older Jedi too began to prepare for night, strolling over to the empty cot. He sat in the center, elbows digging into each knee as he rested his chin on the backs of his fingers. For the first time in weeks, Obi-Wan felt comfortable, safe even. There was no last-minute mission, no sleeping on a battlefield, no late-night reports. And it was quiet, peaceful. He scanned the shelter once more, thinking he might get the best sleep he’s had in months.

And he was right.

—

You woke slowly, gently granting your mind room to register its consciousness. Your limbs stirred, testing the width of your linens. In time, each eye relaxed open. Stretching both arms, you sat up, settling into reality as you observed your comfy surroundings in dull lighting. Your bed was soft beneath you with four layers of blankets weighing your form down in its warmth. All that fit in the pilot’s cabin was your bed with limited walking room, but you enjoyed the small space with its elevated concentration of heat and bare walls.

The exhaustion and excitement of yesterday’s trek slowed your morning routine. Your thighs ached from the hours traveling with Meetra, and the detour didn’t help. Glancing at your damp gear sprawled on the floor, you determined it would be at least another couple of hours until your boots, gloves, and fur cloak had dried. You fell back into the mattress with a sigh, bouncing slightly at the impact. You would have been happy to rest for a few more hours. But the moment your head hit the pillow, you knew there was too much to do to lie around. Primarily, addressing the three travelers in the main cabin.

You threw your legs off the bed’s side and pushed yourself off to stand, tossing on a thinner cloak that hung next to you before drawing back the curtains in a slight stumble. Perhaps you should have taken more time to wake.

“Good morning.”

You looked up at Obi-Wan who sat comfortably at your table, legs folded and Holobook in hand.

“Mornin’.” You replied with a smile.

With a stronger gate, you sauntered toward the pile of lichen that had defrosted overnight. A ravenous ache pulled at your stomach as you reached the desk to determine its digestibility. In that moment, you realized you’d forgotten to have supper, and now you were suffering the consequences. Nevertheless, A quick test of the lichen’s plasticity between your index finger and thumb brought out its slimy texture. Perfect. Breakfast was soon to be served.

You briefly glanced back at Obi-Wan. He seemed engrossed in the text before him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my collection.”

“You have more holobooks of The Old Republic legends than I’ve ever known any one individual to own.” He exclaimed, eyes glued to the screen.

“They’re my favorite stories.”

You leaned over beside the desk to reach into a storage box, pulling out a pair of plates and a couple forks. While in the middle of placing them on the desk, you suddenly recalled exactly who those stories were about.

“Sleep well?” You quickly interjected. The slight pause turned your head. Obi-Wan looked as if he was about to sneeze right at you, but it was more likely that you’d interrupted him mid-thought with your change in topic.

Seemingly disappointed, he readjusted, rolling his shoulders and returning to his story.

“Yes, I did.”

You began to line the plates with lichen. “You and your companions are welcome to my facilities. There’s a trapdoor behind the curtain that will lead you there.”

His features lightened once more. “I’m quite alright.”

Obi-Wan rotated, this time fully facing you in his seat, uncrossing his legs with a hand loosely holding the holobook to the side. “Are you usually this kind to strange travelers?”

Having finished plating the lichen, you picked up both dishes, making your way over to Obi-Wan.

“Only the charming ones.” You winked as you placed breakfast on the table.

Obi-Wan chuckled at your whit, but couldn’t hide the light blush that grazed his cheeks. He quickly buried his face back into the holobook, but you wouldn’t make it that easy.

“Where did everyone go?” You asked.

You used your fork to stick then toss a clump of lichen in your mouth. Its musty tang perfumed your senses, leaving a bitter aftertaste as it slipped along your tongue.

He examined the food before him curiously, picking up a fork to test its consistency.

“They went to fix the shuttle. Anakin stayed up all night reading that manual of yours then departed early this morning with Ahsoka.” He lifted a small piece and took an experimental bite.

“Where does he find the energy?” You exclaimed as you observed him struggle to swallow politely. You tried to hide your faint giggle with a cough.

He shrugged. “Only the Maker knows.”

The cabin echoed with the light clinking of your fork and plate as you continued to eat. “So why are you here?”

Obi-Wan eyed you pointedly. “I enjoy your company far more.”

Despite his confident demeanor, you sensed his intentions reached far beyond his outward manner. It didn’t feel malicious at all. Just, different. As if courtesy and inquisitiveness were not his only motivations.

Your imagination must be getting the best of you, you thought, brushing off your concerns fairly quickly. The man didn’t look like he could hurt a Saccorian grain fly. It was easy to assume that strangers on Hoth had ulterior motives, largely due to your many dealings with pirates and hunters in the last few years. Yet you continued to help them when you crossed paths, even though you were often betrayed. Whether that meant a robbery attempt or something more nefarious. But no matter the threat, no stranger on Hoth has ever posed much danger to you. This wouldn’t be very different.

“Do you say that to all the singular planetary beings you meet?” You teased.

He relaxed into a gentle smirk, returning to the holobook confidently. “Only the kind-hearted ones.”

You beamed at his charm.

Yet, concern still tugged at the back of your mind. He still seemed to be hiding something.

“So how did you come to Hoth?” He inquired.

You struggled internally for a moment as you examined the man. There was no cloud covering that statement, no alternative meaning. It appeared he hoped to understand you better out of pure curiosity, and not for any personal gain.

But why? Why not aid his companions to hasten their escape from this icy trap? Because your company was so pleasant? No, something wasn’t adding up. You must have been reading him wrong. Best to keep it vague. To stay safe, and keep your promise.

“I was brought here when I was young. There are some dangerous people who aren’t my biggest fan.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrow lifted as he watched you carefully. “Dangerous people? What did you do?”

You grinned, finding his overly troubled demeanor for the safety of a stranger endearing.

“Nothing yet. They just don’t like the idea of what I might do because of an old story.”

Obi-Wan nodded, unconvinced. “And I assume your friend brought you here.”

“Yes, he understood my background and brought me here to train.”

Obi-Wan perked up, raising his eyebrows. “To train you?” He questioned, staring intently.

His interest was beginning to concern you. It was time for you to be more cautious when formulating responses.

“To protect myself.”

“Ah,” he nodded, but a hair dissatisfied. “What is he like?” He leaned back again with the holobook, as if pretending to be less interested. “You friend.”

“Well,” you thought for a moment. “I suppose he’s more like a mentor.”

His eyes shot up, and you hesitated once more. Obi-Wan must have noticed as he conveyed an encouraging smile, motioning for you to continue while returning to his story.

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling, your lichen long forgotten as you tried to picture him. You endeavored to visualize your memories on the cold, rounded metal hull above.

“He’s wise, soft-spoken, the kindest man you’d ever meet.” You emphasized. “He always makes sure I’m focusing on the here and now.”

You paused.

“Sometimes I’d put the weight of the world on my shoulders and he would always knock me down a peg.” A laugh escaped you, head falling in mirth.

Obi-Wan’s warm eyes glistened as you calmed. You took a moment to ruminate further, returning your gaze upwards, nose wrinkling.

“I-“ you paused as a wave of sadness washed over you. “I miss him.”

You looked back down at Obi-Wan. A swirl of emotions played on his face. Sympathy, mostly, but an air of curiosity seemed to bubble underneath.

“He sounds lovely.”

His words felt authentic, but the battle within Obi-Wan that danced so clearly around him was hard to ignore. You were beginning to question your delicate trust in the man. The many questions with veiled intent suggested that he may know your true identity. And if he avoided asking you directly, it could point to dark motives, or a malicious plan.

His highly inquisitive behavior up to this point had subconsciously fueled your anxiety. Your suspicions could no longer be shunned. Despite hoping to steer clear of invading the privacy of these travelers, it seemed that you had no choice. You needed to know more. For your own sake, if not for your mentor’s. He told you to stay safe, and you weren’t going to break that promise. Avoiding scrutinizing this group’s true intentions was too much of a risk to that.

His eyes were still set on you, so you returned the favor. You stared deeply into his gaze, preparing to investigate the roots of his being, until you saw it. In the reflection of his eyes, something strange sparkled. You refocused your vision on his retinas, a crease forming on your forehead. And what you saw felt like lighting to your core.

You launched from your chair, knocking it over as you stumbled a few steps away from the stranger, mouth hung open and eyes wide.

“Who are you?” You asked firmly, making each vowel distinct.

You felt tricked, made a fool. You let your guard down a few times in these many years of caution, but this time would be terribly different. This wasn’t the average hunter or trader. This was an entirely different animal. And you were about to pay the price of this mistake with your life. Unless, you did something quick.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, seemed perplexed at your sudden change. He watched you with concern.

“Are you alright?” He acted carefully. “Did I say something wrong?”

But this time, you refused to believe his seemingly empty words. “No more games.”

He slowly stood with his hands up as if surrendering while your backward creep accelerated.

“Who are you?! How did you find me?!” Your patience was wearing thin.

Obi-Wan took a wary step forward, hands remaining lifted. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Another step.

“Could you explain?”

You felt the curtain brush against the pads of your fingers as you finally reached it. His continued steady approach had you feeling cornered. It was time to act now. You slipped your right hand behind the divide, feeling the wall for your hanging weapon while keeping your sight trained on Obi-Wan.

Finally, you felt the cold metal hilt. You wrapped your fingers around it and held it tight, keeping it trained behind the curtain.

“I’m warning you…”

He took another step forward.

There was no longer a choice. You activated and thrust your lightsaber in front of you, its gray hue created a pocket of hot light in the shelter between the two of you. Its tip hung inches from his chest.

“Not. Another. Step.” You warned rigidly.

—

Obi-Wan’s mind was racing. New thoughts and questions stumbled over each other in an endless stampede of disorientation.

Hours ago, he advised Anakin and Ahsoka to attempt shuttle repairs without him for the chance to discover your truth. He was convinced now that you were no thief. The older Jedi checked his pockets and lightsaber to ensure everything was in place when he awoke at daybreak. It would have been the best opportunity to strike, and yet, you didn’t take it.

Obi-Wan’s priorities centered. He needed to understand why your life force was unreadable, why your presence on this planet was shrouded in mystery, and why a person who seemed so dedicated to others chose to live in isolation, assuming you had any say in the matter.

When he explored your collections this morning, Obi-Wan was intrigued by the sheer number of Old Republic Jedi tales included. He found it especially telling when you claimed they were your favorite, but lost the opportunity to probe that declaration further.

Regardless of this small success, Obi-Wan’s efforts to connect with your signal proved fruitless. As the breakfast conversation continued, he tried to explore the space around and within you. But still, he felt, nothing. No matter how deeply he engrained himself into the Force, he could not glean one iota of life from you. It obfuscated his mind with theories as he struggled to rationalize this anomaly, but not one postulation had real merit.

So, he switched tactics, relying on his talents as a master negotiator. Yet even then, he perceived little progress. Obi-Wan did gain ground when he learned why you’ve spent so many years alone on Hoth. He was interested, yet bothered, by the possible threat to your life, wondering how a being so harmless could attract such dangers. Such conclusions opened the door to more inquiries.

But then, he learned about your ‘friend.’ How he taught you self-defense and emanated qualities of insight, thoughtfulness, and tranquility— all characteristics that were highly familiar to the Jedi. He reasoned, no, hoped that his suspicions were correct. That he knew this unidentified man. But just when he was about to pose that quintessential query, something went exceptionally wrong.

Now he stood very cautiously, hoping to de-escalate this rapidly spiraling situation.

At least one question had been answered. He finally felt a strong force signature within you, like water through a collapsed dam. And if all was calm, he may have even asked you how you were able to so completely conceal your energy readings.

But now, there were many, far more pressing inquiries that mandated answers, he thought, as he stared down the blade of a Gray Jedi.

“Y/n.” Obi-Wan soothed, dropping his arms beside him. “I promise I will not harm you. And I will respond to any questions you may have about who we are. But I must ask you something very important first.” He watched you closely for any change, but all he could feel was frustrated suspicion radiating off your figure.

“First, you tell me who you really are.” You demanded.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi. We are tasked with preserving peace in the galaxy.” He explained, clasping his hands behind him.

“You’re a Jedi?” You questioned, the lightsaber’s point faltering slightly.

“Yes,” he continued in a calm, clear tone. “Y/n, I must know the name of your friend.”

You hesitated, causing his eyes to soften. Whatever he did to scare you profoundly triggered deep regret within him. He hoped to regain the trust of a possibly abandoned Jedi, especially if his speculations proved true.

“Please.” He breathed.

You loosened ever so slightly. “His name is Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Even though he somewhat surmised this truth, Obi-Wan was still taken aback. He took a step away, turning from you as he tried to wipe off the shock pooling around his parted lips. He sensed you further lower your lightsaber in confusion, now aiming it at the ground.

Obi-Wan breathed deeply as he reminisced about his former master. He remembers the many times throughout the years in which Qui-Gon disappeared without informing him or The Council of his travels. He always thought it was just his Master’s nature. His independence and desire to make his own path shine through. Little did Obi-Wan know, Qui-Gon Jinn was raising and training a new Padawan in secret. Yet still, some young piece of Obi-Wan was not surprised. This certainly seemed like something his old Master would do.

He turned back to you, a wistful expression poking through his racing thoughts. “Qui-Gon Jinn was my master.”

He watched as you deactivated your saber, letting your arm fall to the side at this revelation. Your lips slightly parted, eyes searching the older Jedi for any possible mistake before reluctantly settling into the truth. “Was?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “He died ten years ago fighting the Sith on Naboo.”

Horror invaded your features. Waves of sadness and despair poured out of your being as you gently staggered to a nearby wall, steadying against it with your head hanging between your arms. Obi-Wan’s heart dropped, knowing all too well how you felt. He swiftly moved behind you, gently squeezing your shoulder.

“I’m so very sorry,” he whispered into your ear.

Obi-Wan felt your shoulder rise and fall as long, shaky breaths filled the air. He couldn’t imagine not only losing your Master, but likely the only other being you’ve truly known. The blue-eyed Jedi realized your world was crashing down before you.

But somehow, after only a few moments, your breathing stabilized. Slowly, you stood up straight, removing your hands from the wall to turn to him. Deep roots of sorrow controlled your features, your face loosely stained with a few stray tears. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he watched you with anticipation.

“I think he told me about you.” Your eyes tethered to the ground.

Obi-Wan felt a morsel of hope tug at his chest as he watched you sympathetically. The possibility of learning something new about his former Master was tantalizing. After so many meditation sessions in which he failed to connect with Qui-Gon’s spirit, this could be his chance to feel tethered to his Master one last time.

“He told me that you worried too much.” A reminiscing smile graced your lips.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, relaxing shoulders he didn’t realize were tense. “That sounds like Master Jinn.”

Your sparkling, silver eyes met his intensely. "It's not how it sounds. It was his way of building my confidence."

Your sudden beam at the memory left Obi-Wan in awe of your strength. Your gaze trailed to your holobook collection.

“I read all these stories of amazingly powerful Jedi who seemed invincible in the face of the most dire odds.” He watched you motion to the piles of knowledge. “I never felt like I could quite live up to their memory, but Qui-Gon was always sure to remind me that like all great Jedi.” You paused to send him a lighthearted smirk through dejected eyes. “Including his Padawan, I had no need to worry. The Force would help me grow into the Jedi I’m meant to be.” Sincerity seeped from your words.

Obi-Wan felt as if the hole in his heart punctured at Naboo ten years ago just experienced its first stitch. To find another piece of Qui-Gon, another connection to him, was a dream made reality. Not just by words he never heard him say, but through you, his secret Padawan.

Although there was still much for him to learn, he already found you to be one of the more idyllic Jedi he’s met. Not only in your strong connection to the Force, but from your person. The fortitude, compassion, and honesty you’ve shown in only a day is an example often demonstrated to initiates. That thought brought him back to a question he needed answered.

“But why?” Obi-Wan exclaimed to no one in particular. He turned on his heel to pace in thought, a hand gently resting below his chin. “Why did Qui-Gon bring you here? Allow you to live your days in isolation?” He spun back around, now directing his thoughts at you. “Who was he hiding you from that The Order could not face? Did he even tell The Council?”

You sighed, your eyes falling down to your hands where you gently circled your thumb into your palm. “He hid me from the world, and The Council, because of the prophecy.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head. A prophecy? Another prophecy?

“What prophecy?”

You looked off into the distance. And while your vision was limited by the small confines of an ancient ship buried underground, Obi-Wan thought your eyes were taking you quadrants away. Then, you faced him.

“You should probably sit down.”

He followed the guidance of your hand as it lifted to lead the way back toward the table. The sound of wooden chairs slightly scratching across rusted metal colored the sudden stillness. Obi-Wan settled, glancing at you only to notice your eyes glued to the peeling Japor ivory below. Your finger graced a discolored patch with interest. Obi-Wan waited patiently, hands clasped before him, your hesitation driving his curiosity through the hull.

You raised your vision. “The prophecy tells of a protector, a guide, known as The Guardian. It tells of a Jedi to be discovered and trained outside of The Order.”

“A Gray Jedi...” Obi-Wan mused aloud.

“Yes.” You confirmed.

Obi-Wan’s mind circled through your words. “And who does The Guardian protect?”

“The Chosen One. The Guardian must do whatever is necessary to stand between the Sith and The Chosen One so that they may return balance to the Force.” You explained.

Obi-Wan watched as you peeked at him, a sudden amusement dancing upon your lashes.

“It certainly puts a target on my back for anyone who doesn’t want that to happen.” You chuckled.

Obi-Wan sent you a thin look of disapproval at your dark joke before returning to his thoughts. In all his research about The Chosen One when preparing to be Anakin’s Master, he not once saw mention of The Guardian.

Obi-Wan’s brows furrowed. “I’ve never heard of this.” He admitted quietly.

“Few have. Qui-Gon discovered the legend by chance in the Holocron Vault when he was retrieving something for his Master. I think he said it was part of the Jedi Archives at The Temple, but you’d know better than me.”

“You’re correct.” He confirmed.

You nodded gratefully. “Anyways, from what I understand, The Council feared this aspect of The Chosen One’s prophecy because of its transparent separation from The Order. So they hid it away.”

Obi-Wan took a moment to gather his thoughts. The ramifications of your words were astounding. Another entity, willed into existence by the Force, with the purpose of aiding Anakin on his journey. In a sense, he felt relieved, like a burden lifted from his conscience. Qui-Gon was supposed to train Anakin, but when he passed, the duty fell to him. He never really felt ready, stumbling through ways to guide the young Jedi when he himself had only just become a Knight. But it seems as if the Force works in mysterious ways.

He was equally disturbed by the prophesy’s wording. If a Guardian was needed to protect The Chosen One from the Sith, it suggested that Anakin’s fate was not sealed on the side of the light. And that terrified him. Anakin always struggled with his place within The Order, and while he was very proud of the man he’s grown into, he knew that Anakin still grappled with his intense fears and deep-seated anger.

“I need to know.”

Obi-Wan returned from his thoughts, motioning for you to continue. You watched him for a moment. Obi-Wan could see the gears turn through complicated maneuvers in your head. Then, determination settled on your face.

“Are you The Chosen One?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, not me.”

He noticed your brows crease in confusion. Quickly, the older Jedi played over the morning’s events. His mind centered on what started this conversation in the first place.

“Is that why you were afraid?”

You shot him a questioning look. “I was not afraid, I was shocked.” You staunchly defended, erupting within him a subtle sense of amusement.

But the sudden downcast of your eyes changed his tune.

“I thought you were a Sith.” You candidly explained.

This time it was Obi-Wan’s turn for shock to contort his features. “A Sith?! Whatever gave you that idea?”

“It’s the beard.” You said stone-eyed, pretending to scratch phantom whiskers on your face with an embellishing movement of the fingers.

Obi-Wan nearly choked on air.

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach for good measure. Obi-Wan, however, was unimpressed with your antics.

He leaned back, crossing his arms as an exceedingly light smile garnished his feigned displeasure. “Very funny.”

Your cackle died down before you seemed to relax back into the gravity of the situation.

“In all seriousness,” you began, taking a moment to compose yourself. “When I looked into your eyes, I saw the reflection of my own, and they were silver.”

“And?” Obi-Wan questioned, not seeing the point of her observation.

“Obi-Wan.” You sighed, glancing down at your hands, which you now had clasped together on the table before you.

You raised your head, staring into his gaze once more. And to Obi-Wan, it felt as if you were gazing into his soul.

“My eyes are y/e/c.”

The older Jedi’s jaw fell open as his eyebrows raised. He was dumbfounded, not understanding how that was possible. The first thing he noticed when he met you at the crash site was your extraordinarily bright, silver eyes.

“The legend says, that when The Guardian’s journey begins, it will initiate their transformation. Their eyes will begin to shine the color of their fate.”

Obi-Wan hummed. “And how does that journey begin?”

“By meeting someone tied to their fate.”

Then, it clicked. “Ah, a Sith or The Chosen One.”

“Exactly.”

A hush washed over the two of you as Obi-Wan considered the connotation of your eyes. The two passionate orbs that dotted your face shined a color with deep meaning.

“And your eyes are silver. The color of balance, purity, peace.” He mused, a hand lightly stroking his cheek in contemplation.

“Which hopefully reflects the future.” You countered.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled almost as bright as yours. “A hope we share.”

However, once more, his countenance was shrouded in rumination at a discrepancy.

“But your lightsaber is gray.”

He noticed the corner of your eyes crinkle. “My journey has just begun.”

Obi-Wan matched your expression. “Of course, and was Qui-Gon able to prepare you before…” he trailed off.

You exhaled. “He taught me everything I know, but I must admit, most of my saber and force training was advanced through The Muntuur in the last years.”

Intrigue gripped Obi-Wan, edging him to lean toward you, hands gliding along the table. “The Muntuur?”

“An ancient Jedi training gadget Qui-Gon found abandoned on a distant planet. He never told me where.”

“Interesting.” Obi-Wan mused. “I’d like to analyze this device, if that is alright with you.”

“That’s fine. But first, I must know.” You watched him keenly. “Who is The Chosen One?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer when a light thud sounded behind him, followed by a ripple of frosty wind against the back of his neck.

“Y/n, I could hug you!” Obi-Wan heard. He turned in time to see Anakin jump down the shelter’s entrance with a wide grin, avoiding the ladder completely in his excitement. Ahsoka made a similar entrance, her lips quirked up.

“That manual was detailed enough for me to salvage secondary parts from other sectors of the shuttle in the repairs! Who knew that bucket of bolts had so many adaptable segments? Had to use every single one.”

Anakin froze mid-saunter, a meager speechlessness overcoming him as he seemed to register the humorless faces watching him from the table, including his former Master who was particularly annoyed. Obi-Wan watched the young Jedi rub his hands together, partly from the freezing outdoors but mostly, it seemed, in an attempt to cut the tension.

“Am I interrupting something?” He chuckled nervously.

Obi-Wan spoke. “Anakin, we need to talk.”

“Is he…”

“Yes.” He finished your thought, glancing back at you to glean your reaction to that sudden divulgence.

“Wow.” You mumbled before sending Anakin an earnest look.

“You should probably sit down.”

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lilredghost · 20 days

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can I just say I’m so here for the tentacle vending machine

Referring to this post

Yesss. The vending machine is a dumb rumour the Padawans pass around and whisper about when they think no one is listening. They say the vending machine moves from location to location, always tucked away somewhere in a corner of the Temple.

Anakin (who has definitely heard the rumors) hears something sort of calling to him one day and when he follows the voice, he finds the "vending machine." Weirdly, there isn't really a price written on there, but Anakin tries feeding it a few coins just out of curiosity.

And a warm, sticky tentacle does in fact emerge from the machine. It takes in Anakin's shock and his fully dressed form and immediately goes for the mouth. And then Anakin's being held in place (by more tentacles? or maybe the monster can wield the Force?) and his lips are spread helplessly wide around this thing and it's working its way down his throat and honestly the whole thing is quite possible a religious experience

But anyway Anakin definitely gets addicted (literally). He can't stay away. Every couple days he follows the call (and is it just him or is that getting louder?) and he gives something up to the monster and he has to get railed or taken in some way. The cost continues to go up

Meanwhile Obi-Wan is very suspicious about whatever is happening with his Padawan. He's calmer now, most of the time, but whenever they're away from the Temple for too long, he gets moody and vicious and sometimes ill.

Anyway idk what would happen in the middle there but it would definitely end with Obi-Wan "stewjoni biology" Kenobi dicking Anakin down and stuffing him full of his own eggs. The vending machine monster is never thought of again.

#this is one of the most bizarre posts I've ever written #obikin #asks #anon #squick: oviposition

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0h0possum · 9 months

Text

Obi-Wan Kenobi - Stewjoni Shifter AU

You know that fandom trope where people use that fact that Obi-Wan’s home planet (Stewjon) is unknown as an excuse to make him interesting/give him more alien traits?

W E L P.

I’ve jumped on the bandwagon.

So here’s some doodles of my ‘Stewjoni Shifters’ AU!

Also, here’s some lore I’ve thought of (only a little inspired from Avatar):

The planet Stewjon is an Outer rim planet, about as far out as you can get

It’s very unexplored and completely uncolonized

This is due to the fact that the planet, it’s plant life, and it’s wildlife, act as an ‘immune system’ of sorts and attack any outsiders once they land of the planet

Any ships/outside lifeforms that land of the planet are instantly attack by horrible weather, poisonous plants, or vicious wildlife that targets them

There was a period of time after the planet was first discovered that dozens of ships tried to explore the planet but after all of them were killed, destroyed, or chased off, most stopped

Planet was labeled unsafe, hazardous, and inhabitable by the Republic and no one travels there (except for the occasional bold explorer who tries to be ‘the first to tame Stewjon’, only to be chased of or killed)

However, the planet IS actually inhabited

Republic knows that there are intelligent, native lifeforms on Stewjon, but no one has gotten film or photos of them so it’s unknown what they really look like (since most explorers are killed) (and those that live either never see the Stewjoni or only see unclear glimpses of them)

So there are tons of myths about what the Stewjoni look like, and how they live on a planet that seemingly tried to kill any intelligent life (it doesn’t, it only tries to kill foreign lifeforms)

Myths on Stewjoni: they are cannibal monsters, they are rogue Sithspawn, they are past dead explorers possessed and mutated by the planet, etc.

Reality: The Stewjoni natives are shifters of sorts with a force like connection to their planet

Stewjoni have a ‘Stewjoni’ form and a ‘Near-Human’ form

What they consider their ‘natural’ form is the their Stewjoni form (the creature drawn in my sketches)

This form is a little bigger than a Wookiee, are pretty strong, have night vision, and have strong scent

In this form they can only speak their native language, which is similar to Wookiee language (animalistic sounds like growls, chirps, hissing, clicks, grumbling, etc.)

Their ‘Near-Human’ form is considered as their ‘unnatural/less common’ form

They don’t shift into it as much

This form is looks exactly like any human and is the same size as the average human

In this form they can speak more general languages (Basic/any langue’s with articulated words) plus their native language

Only difference is they can still use their sense of smell that they use while in ‘Stewjoni’ form

The Native Stewjoni species is as close to being ‘an entire species born natural force-sensitive’ as you can get

They don’t have Jedi powers of anything like that

They just all are born with low lever force sensitivity which allows them to connect with their planet (only their planet) and it’s life forms/plant life

(Can’t manipulate the planet by any means, but they can feel connected to it and feels the emotions of the animals)

(If the Jedi/Republic ever found out more about the Stewjoni species it would contentious. A species that can shift from a normal looking human into a bigger, stronger form? Plus an entire species that naturally is born with low lever force sensitivity?)

(If you are like ‘that’s not how the force works’ or ‘that’s not canon consistent’ then I’ll just say ‘chalk it up to Alternate Universe changes’)

Now we get onto Obi-Wan and his story in this AU:

Obi-Wan is born on Stewjon and is Stewjoni!

But he’s not a normal Stewjoni. His force connection is not low level as like the rest of his people, it’s high level (Jedi level)

So his people, who know of the Jedi, decide he needs to be taken to grow up somewhere were he can be trained (even if their people are kinda force sensitive, they don’t have the abilities or knowledge of stronger force abilities and skills. So they don’t know how to really help Obi-Wan)

(Also, with Obi-Wan being so force sensitive and living on a planet that is kinda force sensitive/responds to him, he’s overwhelmed and don’t control how he effects the planet or how it effects him. He’s so young that he can’t even understand what’s happening to him or how to stop it) (He’s literally a baby at this point)

(So, how do the Stewjoni know of the Jedi? Well since no one knows Stewjoni are shifters (and everyone assumes they are savage animals who aren’t really intelligent). The Stewjoni sometimes shift into Near-human form and go off planet to discreetly check out the Republic/get goods

The Republic and Jedi do not know the Stewjoni do this (even if a Jedi would run into a Stewjoni, they only would read as a vaguely force-sensitive human)

So Obi-WAN’s parents and the Stewjon leader sneak to the Jedi temple with Obi-Wan in Near-Human form and then ask for an audience with the Jedi council

They pretty much get the Jedi to swear secrecy and explain how the Stewjoni are shifters and how Obi-Wan is strong in the force.

They want the Jedi to take care of him because they don’t know how to

(they don’t tell them about how their species as a whole is low force sensitive, or that they can connect to their planet. Basically they keep it bare minimum information)

The Jedi are reluctant to take Obi-Wan (he’s from a mysterious planet, a mysterious species, and a force sensitive shape shifter)

But they eventually agree

The council are sworn to secrecy, they can’t tell the Republic or other Jedi what little they known about the Stewjoni, and they can’t tell anyone what about Obi-Wan is

The Stewjoni leave Obi-Wan with the Jedi to be raised in the Crèche

(Before they leave, the Stewjoni say that Obi-Wan is free to come to Stewjon later or contact them about his species and culture, but the Jedi council is like ‘it’s not the Jedi way to keep contact with family once part of the Order’. In reality they just don’t want to be any more affiliated with the Stewjoni. They already are being secretive by hiding their knowledge of the Stewjoni and Obi-Wan from the Republic/senate. So they don’t want more contact with them in case they get found out by the Republic. As it will look bad if they are secretly in contact with this mysterious and powerful species)

Growing up in the Temple, Obi-Wan is very heavily monitored

The Council/few high up Jedi that know what Obi-Wan is, aren’t cruel to Obi-Wan per-say . They aren’t outright mean to him, but they are influenced (unintentionally) by the myths and propaganda about Stewjoni Natives and how they are ‘cannibals’, ‘feral’, and ‘naturally dangerous’.

It doesn’t help that all they know are rumors and the fact that everyone who goes to Stewjon usually is killed. Everyone assumes the Stewjoni people killed the explorers, not that the planet actually does it.

(It also doesn’t help that the Stewjoni refused to give much information on their people and their traits when they gave Obi-Wan to the Jedi)

So they have a stereotype of Stewjoni in their heads. They think Obi-Wan is by nature, feral and inclined to violence

(To be clear, they are wrong. The Stewjoni are not naturally voilent or feral)

They think any anger or negative emotion Obi-Wan expresses is a sign of him leaning towards his nature of violence

They swiftly try to staunch those emotions in Obi-Wan (not just in the typical Jedi way of releasing through the force, but also by reprimanding Obi-Wan for ‘giving in’ to his ‘violent instincts’)

This definitely is a struggle in Obi-WAN’s youth

It’s an unfortunate cycle: Obi-Wan gets angry because he’s a literal child with emotions -> Jedi stereotype and belittle Obi-Wan’s emotions for being ‘Stewjoni violence’ -> Obi-Wan gets upset that for being treated this way -> Jedi punish him for being angry -> *reapeat cycle*

(It’s not until he’s older (and more beat down from being constantly told he’s ‘bad’ for having certain emotions) that he learns to control his emotions so well and be calm. Thus becoming the Obi-Wan we know so well)

The Jedi also have the thought that Obi-Wan shifting into his Stewjoni form makes him more feral and animalistic, so they pretty much forbid him from shifting

(So he ends up shifting in secret when he’s a young. But after being caught and punished he pretty much stops shifting completely as he’s older)

Basically his entire childhood he’s treated as if he’s innately dangerous and bad, and only through training from the Jedi will be be able to learn to control himself and attempt at being a good person

Only if he embraces being the perfect Jedi and suppress his Stewjoni nature will he be safe for everyone else around him

He’s treated like a dangerous animal

When he’s young he fights this notion but pretty quickly he stops and even starts to believe it

This is also why no Jedi master wants to take him as a Padawan

Even if most Jedi don’t know about what he is, they know the Crèche Masters and Council treat him warily and talk like he’s violent and angry

So he gets sent to the Agri-Corps (like canon) when he ages out at 13 and the Council hopes that this way they can still help Obi-Wan control his force abilities while keeping him away from fighting and Kighthood (they fear if he becomes a knight that the training on fighting will make him loose control of his Stewjoni instincts)

Everything with Qui-Gon taking Obi-Wan on last minute still happens

(Except for the context that Qui-Gon knows about Obi-Wan being Stewjoni from the council and pretty much says ‘I’ll take you on, only because I believe you can over come you’re innate nature’. He still believes the stereotype that Obi-Wan has natural instincts to be violent, but he thinks Obi-Wan can overcome them)

Obi-Wan leaving the Order to stay on Melida/Daan to help the Young in the War stays the same (except he shifts a few times to help the Young in battle and he makes them promise to never tell what he can do)

As Obi-Wan gets older and becomes more calm and controlled of his emotions (better at hiding them from the Jedi tbh), the council and Jedi become more accepting and kind to him

(They think he’s strong and capable, that he overcame his innate nature and that’s admirable of him)

(Again, they still believe the stereotype of Stewjoni instincts and nature, and they believe Obi-Wan is naturally dangerous, just that he’s successful embraced being a Jedi and suppressing his natural self to be better)

The few who don’t believe the stereotypes and understand the cruel treatment Obi-Wan goes through are: Quinlan, Bant, Garen, and Mace. (Obi-Wan breaks the rules to not tell anyone what he is to tell Quinlan, Bant, and Garen what he is when they are still in the Crèche)

Quinlan on the regular tries to sneak Obi-Wan out to get him to shift and be himself more (when Obi-Wan is older he resists these trip more and more as he believes the lies about his Stewjoni form being bad)

AND THATS ENOUGH RANDOM LORE FOR NOW, WOW THATS TOO MUCH LORE. I lied here’s a few more less plot related lore bits of this AU:

When Obi-Wan discovers the clones and becomes a general of the 212th Battalion he deeply empathizes with the way the clones are dehumanized and how they get no choices in their lives, how they are controlled

He understands what it’s like to be told you are/should be innately a certain way

To be told he should give up parts of yourself to become what others need of you

So he’s kind and more personable to the clones than many others

(Though there is a dark part of him that feels bitterness towards the fact that the Jedi feel sympathy to the clones. The Jedi are kind to the clones and try to protect them in battle. They out right acknowledge that it’s unfair how the clones are controlled by the Republic. The Jedi tell the clones ‘you are individuals’ and ‘your emotions matter’. They never did that for him. The Jedi were never that kind to him. He feels bad for feeling this way)

Stewjoni do have some more ‘animalistic’ behaviors, but no violent ones that the stereotypes may suggest. More like they like to lightly buttheads/nuzzle cheeks as a greeting with friends and family. So sometimes when Obi-Wan is injured/tired/out of it he will try to nuzzle/knock his head against Cody, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, or other clones, and it confuses the hell out of them lol.

Sometimes Obi-Wan will make Stewjoni noises when distracted and it’s also pretty confusing to bystanders\

*Obi-Wan is frustrated with some paperwork he’s doing*: *starts growling under his breath*

Cody: *also doing paperwork nearby* ‘wtf’

Example:

*Obi-Wan after fighting Maul and listening to Mail monologue about how he’s gonna make Obj-Wan suffer*

Obi-Wan: *hisses at Maul*

Maul: ‘. . . did you just fucking hiss at me?

Example:

*Obi-Wan injured after a mission and drugged up on painkillers*

Obi-Wan: *leans into Anakin and nuzzles him while chirping*

Anakin: *Confused embarrassed panicking*

Example:

*Ahsoka shaken and upset after a bad mission*

Obi-Wan: *sits down next to her and raps a arm around her and starts purring*

Ahsoka: *starts purring back*

(Cody and Anakin my suspect that Obi-Wan isn’t human but Near-Human of some kind but don’t really know for sure)

(Ahsoka is the only one who can sense that Obi-Wan is something not human and not Near-Human. Headcanon: that Togruta have their own ‘animalistic’ traits (similar to Stewjoni and Wookiees), so when Obi-Wan acts more ‘Stewjoni’ she picks up on it more. Normally she wouldn’t guess it but since she’s around him more than others and she already recognizes non-human behaviors, she sees it.)

Stewjoni when in Stewjoni form can only speak in their native langue’s (animal like sounds)

Stewjoni when in Near-Human form can speak more human like langue’s (Basic/Mandoa’a/etc.) but can also speak their native langue’s and make those sounds (chirps, growls, purrs, etc.)

Later when Obi-Wan is a young adult he gets a random urge of rebellion and gets a tattoo of a Stewjoni in Stewjoni form on his back (the ‘Stewjoni Emblem’)

I still have more plot/lore ideas for this AU but I really should stop at some point. So, if you read all that nonsense I wrote, hats off to you. Lol.

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