#Eopie Station

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Star Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi - Anchorhead - Eopie Station Concept Art by Dawn Brown

[obislittleone]

Come What May

Episode 4/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, allusions to smut but no actual smut. canon typical violence, robbery?? idek y'all

A/n: I can't believe I edited this in one sitting but here u go now be fed and I'll probably post another one in two months lol

NINE YEARS LATER…

The sand was relentless, as it always was. Such was the life on Tatooine.

The days, though boring and long, brought a sense of peace and security to you. It was comfortable, and you didn’t have to worry about being chased.

Life with Obi was still blissful, though he’d become a different sort of person than he used to be. He was still yours, and one thing that would never change in his life was his unending love and devotion to you. Over all the bad things, you were still there, and if that was so, his life could never be all bad.

He became grumpy easily, but you often teased him, joking about how old he was truly getting. He’d hate when you pointed it out, because he already felt so much older than he had when the war was going on. Many would argue that it aged him, but truth be told, he was perhaps living the youngest days of his life back then.

You, of course, had continued to mature into the beautiful woman he’d always seen before. You looked different, sure… but all the ways you’d changed, he would think were for the better. He loved how normal you seemed. It was always so much more peaceful, living here. It was mundane and often quiet, but it was peaceful, and far less demanding of your former lifestyle. He had always hoped you could live a simple and sweet life, maybe not on this maker-forsaken planet, but having days that were just the same.

The daily routine was easy, and by now implanted in both of your minds. It was second nature, and hard to mess up even if you tried. The mornings were always slow, as the work hours were different from what you’d once known. After dragging each other from the warm confines of bed, there was a shared silence that would fall over you both as you continued to ready yourselves for each job you had. You had the fat end of the stick, getting to work in the city. You were legally dead across the galaxy, and the empire had no warrant for you in any scanner known to the systems. Especially not in the outer rim.

Obi-Wan had taken up the name Ben, the name he remembers from childhood. He doesn’t know if it was his original name, or if it was the name of his father, but it belonged to him somehow, and he felt it was easy to go by.

An hour was spent riding to anchor-head everyday, in order to clock in for your shift, and for him to catch a speeder to whatever work station they needed him at for the day. Lately he’d been harvesting flying Tibidon sand whales for their meat. He never failed to bring back a sliver of what he cut for your Eopie. It was something he did out of habit by now, but it somehow reminded you of a small thing he used to do for you many years ago.

Back in the age of the Jedi, before the clone wars ever began, Obi-Wan Kenobi had two padawans. One was the chosen one, and though he was often found to be a trouble maker, he was still the favorite among the two. The other was a small girl, not yet grown to her full capabilities. She always had a strong appetite, though, and the meals given to her were never enough to satisfy her growing form. Obi-Wan was quick to notice little things like this, and always saved his portion of Ksharra bread for her to eat after everyone was finished. The smile it brought to her was not soon forgotten…

What a sweet memory, and you almost always thought about it when you were watching him interact with the Eopie. He was gentle to all creatures, even after he became a bit hardened and settled into his new role of life.

After the ride home, there were meals that were shared in a comfortable quiet, and then a discussion of the day. It was definitely a more quaint way to live, but you preferred it to the horrid idea of running for years on end. You always told him how thankful you were to be with him, to have him amidst everything. It was he who you remembered the earliest in your life, being there for you, watching out for everything you faced, and helping you through it. He was still doing that, in a way. Though it were not by the force, he gave advice of work topics, different moody customers that would come in during the day, and even just ideas to help the work day seem faster.

It was only after he left for bed, with you watching the stars rise, that you were able to meditate. To revel in the force and to trust in its ways without anyone stopping you. Not to say that Obi-Wan would stop you, but he perhaps would try and convince you it still was not safe. It was you, however, that kept up your daily strength by meditation, and use of the force without his knowledge.

Though he would never know, your strong uses of the force were the thing that helped him sleep through the night, as he often woke up with nightmares, stirring your slumber as well and making you alert to the bad things his mind conjured. It was mostly Anakin, because how could it not be? He was his Master and his best friend, a true brother and ally. He had to have felt some sort of responsibility for what happened to him, all leading up to his death.

You too felt semblances of guilt, but you dealt with it in other ways. For him, these nightmares were often occurrences, and it was due to you that he got any sleep at all.

He would sometimes sit straight up at a moment’s notice, scaring you awake and realizing what had happened. He would breath fast and loud and not be able to slow it down, not even when you wrapped your arms around him from behind, whispering soothing words like he once did for you in your time of nightly terrors. At first, he was lucky to get back to sleep at all… but the more it happened, he found you being near him helped to calm him back to sleep. He’d cut himself off from the force, he had no use of it anymore. He didn’t know it was because of your old developed ability to take away the bad dreams. You always slept soundly beside him, even before you were together. Whenever he was laid next to you, there was not a dream that could plague your mind for the worse.

There was one night when he woke up, calling his old Master’s name. He sometimes dreamt of the way he died. He felt as though it was also his fault, that he could have prevented the Sith Lord Maul from destroying his only father figure.

It was all you could do, to sit with him, and try and calm his mind… but that night was harder. He had begun counting his failures as if they were stars, making them the only thing in the forefront of his mind, and rejecting anything that wasn’t his detrimental thoughts.

You sat with him until sunrise that day, but once the twin suns were over the dunes of everlasting sand, the day went on as normal. The small moments of grief and self loathing were forgotten.

It happened this way, only sometimes.

Something that brought you both peace on the bad days was going out to the hills and crests outside of the moisture farms specifically that being owned by Owen and Beru Lars. It would never be uttered aloud, for these thoughts brought on more episodes of sadness, but watching a small boy grow up in the sandy plains was always bittersweet. Though Luke wasn't a starpilot, or a jedi knight, or a cunning strategist... he reminded you so much of Anakin. You knew Anakin at this age, and all the years after. Even little gestures Luke sometimes made to his aunt and uncle, would send a pang of guilt through your chest. Anakin should be the one watching his son grow up. You all should be retired somewhere nice, like Naboo, with Padme watching over the twins as Anakin and Obi-Wan once again conversed like the brothers they used to be. Bittersweet, watching Luke learn to tend the farm like his uncle, instead of watching him play with his sister whom he knows nothing about.

Obi-Wan would never admit it either, but it was both healing and detrimental to observe Luke from a distance. He was closer to the boy's father than Owen ever was, and much more deserved the title of uncle... but it was not to be. Obi-Wan was a hunted man, and allowing Luke to be close to him could be dangerous.

Obi-Wan would bow his head sometimes after watching the boy, trying to make sense of how everything in his life could have lead to to this, and what could have possibly gone wrong that the galaxy was this bad. He could not even have a relationship with the son of his dearest friend.

Recently, he had delved into something of an addiction for him, something that was a grounding tool to help him realize he wasn’t going insane in these days of mundane work and internal chaos on this maker-forsaken planet. Others might see it as normal, but he had never been so insatiable before now. He craved one thing, constantly… you.

Whether it be through physical intimacy, or even small touches of your skin, he couldn’t get enough, and it was causing him to form strong habits that would not soon falter. You were of course all too happy to indulge him, as for a long time after you first came to these mountains, there was a block between you. The emotional force bond being broken disrupted many things, and that was one of them. You hoped sincerely that this was not just a rut he found himself in, and that it would only last so long. You’d missed the late nights, shared kisses and times of devotion to one another. He was such a gentle and skilled lover, anyone would have killed to know this side of him, but it was you he chose, again and again.

Though one half of the dyad was not felt in the force, he was still the love of your life, and you’d come to know him in a different way these past years. He was not necessarily a new person, but knowing him without the force, and without your constant ability of silent communication, he did become unfamiliar at times.

Still, he was Obi.

Always, he was Obi… even when everyone else used the name Ben, you would never give up the way you’d called upon him since you were but three years old. In public, he was just Ben Kenobi, who worked out in the dunes of Tatooine for a days wage… but in your eyes he was still the great protector of the republic, the General of the 212th legion, and a Master of the Jedi council. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

-

You were late again.

Not to work.

You didn’t tell Obi of your suspicions, feeling as though there could be a mixed reaction from whatever came of your condition, if you were indeed under the diagnosis you felt you were.

It had been ten years, and you were sure you’d retained internal damage that might prevent this outcome, but of course, the galaxy has seen far more impossible things come to fruition. Anakin’s mother conceived him without a man at all, so with the rate that your husband and yourself were going, it was almost bound to happen.

You left work earlier than usual, and gave an easy excuse to your employer as to why, and he of course was more than happy to oblige. You were a loyal and decent worker, so he never had any reason not to. There was a small clinic in Anchorhead, not as far advanced or technical as the one you were able to go to in Mos Eisley, but good enough that you would find out what you need to know, or what you were certain you already knew.

Being still deeply connected with the force, you were able to tell something was there, just like the first time, although now there was a slight difference that made you question it at first. Obi still had no idea, and how could he? You hadn’t let on to it at all and there wasn’t an ounce of strangeness to your behavior. Throw in the fact that he can no longer sense those kind of things, and you have a completely oblivious husband.

The medical droid who tended to you was outdated, but even with old mechanisms and past due needed upgrades, it deducted your symptoms to a diagnosis rather quickly.

You were eleven weeks pregnant, no doubt about it after some quick testing.

Though you were nervous of what this could mean for you, it was far more of a joy. You never thought this would be possible again, given the circumstances of the last time leaving you with injuries that should have made you completely unable to reproduce.

You were so excited as you went back into work, reeling from the information, and trying to think of ways to tell the father of this child that he was in-fact getting another chance at his dream. It wasn’t how you both had planned. You’d wanted to settle down amongst your friends, on a beautiful planet like Naboo. You had hoped for the freedom of the galaxy to give you the opportunities of a peaceful existence. Instead, you were stuck here, on Tatooine. The ugliest planet in the outer rim and much worse than you remember it from your first visit all those years ago. It was all for a reason, of course. Obi-Wan was a wanted man, in nearly every system there was a bounty on his head, with more than enough hunters out searching for him to bring his body dead or alive to the empire. You, of course, being legally dead and all, could go anywhere you wanted… but without him you saw little point in traveling away.

This child would mend the broken dreams you both had for the future, you were sure of it.

You went back about your work with a gleeful smile adorning your face, being extra friendly to patrons and even giving them a little extra for their buck. You couldn’t help the joy, it was too strong to keep bottled up for later. You were sure, though, it would still remain long into the day, and all the others after.

You’d been cleaning out a glass behind the counter when it happened. A group of robbers from out in Mos Eisley came rushing in, holding everyone at blaster point and shouting for them to get down. You grabbed a knife from the nearby drawer, trying to strategize through the force how to deescalate the situation without hurting anyone. Your skills were just the slightest bit rusty, even though you practiced whenever you got the chance. A knife wasn’t exactly your weapon of choice.

The leader of the group stepped forward to the owner of the bar, and told him to empty the credit holds into his sack, but the owner hesitated, turning your way as if asking what he should do. You started taking quick steps towards him, pushing him out of the line of the blaster before it could go off. You waited for them to start shooting, but instead heard the ignition of a lightsaber. Or at least, it sounded a hell of a lot like one.

You jumped to your feet, watching over the counter as the scene played out. There was a man, around your age, wielding a lightsaber to defeat the robbers. They all went down pretty quickly, except one whom the man didn’t see behind him. You called for him to watch out, but he didn’t have enough time to react, so you raised your hand, focusing all your force energy on throwing the last enemy to the wall before he hit the ground.

He turned to you, eyes wide and saber still ignited.

“Did you just-?” He narrowed his eyes in your direction, and something seemed to click in his head.

Nobody else had seen you do that, but him seeing it was enough.

The bar rang with cheers and clapping in applause for the Jedi, who had saved the people in the establishment from being harmed by the robbery. They all commended him, and you had half a mind to forget it ever happened, just go back to work, but the man was keen on speaking with you. Even after the owner, and your boss, had spent a rather long time thanking him and offering him solace in the place, he wouldn’t be done until he’d had a word.

You were mixing up celebratory drinks for a few patrons when he finally was able to corner you, standing over the bar and keeping his voice down.

“I know who you are,” he said softly, as if trying not to spook you away. Most Jedi were like rare animals nowadays. Almost extinct, and completely vulnerable to sudden attack.

You set the glasses onto a tray and made eye contact with him for a single second, sending a glare his way before you went out to the tables and served the drinks around. He stayed and waited at the bar, and when you came back he sighed out.

“I know this must be hard, but I haven’t seen another Jedi in so long,” he rambled, all under the guise of a whisper, of course. You wouldn’t lie, as much as you feared the empire for everything it has taken from you, it was almost a breath of fresh air to see there were others, who hadn’t been stomped out by their evil yet.

“I was never a Jedi,” you said, but ultimately, you knew, no matter what you said, he knew who you were. As strange as it sounds, being the padawan of a famous Jedi came with some sort of notoriety. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

“I know that it’s you, because you’re supposed to be dead,” he had seen your name on the list of the deceased Jedi, along with his own name on the list of hunted ones.

“I am dead.”

He isn’t sure what he was expecting you to say, maybe that you’d been like him, hiding for the last ten years and hoping that there would come a time when Jedi could arise again. But that wasn’t realistic. As long as the empire held rule over the galaxy, there could never be peace and freedom. Not for your kind, anyway.

“And I’m not coming back,” you added ominously, cleaning out the glasses that had just been set on the counter for you to deal with.

He stayed silent a few moments, but didn’t leave. Even if you didn’t speak to him, you understood why he lingered. The only Jedi you have in your life anymore is Obi-Wan, but he’s cut himself off from the force. There is no familiarity of what was. This man is probably on his own, and has been all this time. He craves the sense of normalcy your presence is probably bringing right now. Perhaps you crave it too, and maybe it’s the reason you don’t shoo him away.

“He’s here too, isn’t he?” He asked after a while.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you weren’t doing yourself any favors in gaslighting this poor man, but you’d built yourself a wall of protection, and it wasn’t going to come down so easily.

“You were inseparable,” he recalls, and he knows you understand him, and that you’re just being standoff-ish. “I always wished to have that relationship with my Master.”

“Believe me, the relationship was far different from what everyone assumed it to be,” You let out sarcastically, finally being able to let your guard down a bit, but only enough that you could interact with him in a way that wasn’t stingy. You’d keep all current details hidden. He wanted to rehash the past? Fine, you could give him that.

“What it ended up as isn’t any of my business, but from what I could tell, the laws of attachment didn’t exactly apply.”

You huffed out a breath, followed by a drawn out ‘Nope.’

You thoughts shifted a bit, to just how poorly you followed the rules. You’re carrying the man’s child for force’s sake. You were never much one for the laws of attachment.

The man before you had a dumbfounded face on, and you mentally slapped yourself. You hadn’t been guarding your thoughts. You haven’t had to in so long and before you realized you needed you, it all just slipped into the open air.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, bowing his head as if he’d been the one to provoke you. In actuality, you’d pretty much offered it all up freely for him to take, and you didn’t even know what to do about it.

“Don’t be, it’s my fault… it’s just-“

“Been a long time?” He guessed, and you nodded in agreement. “I understand.”

And now a complete stranger knew some very personal things. Perhaps he wasn’t stranger, though. He knew you, and Obi-Wan, and remembered the order from its glory days. You both had a sense of shared trauma that somehow bonded you without ever speaking a word to each other before.

“How did you recognize me?” You asked him after another bout of silence. You were drying off the dishes, and figured that as long as he was here, you would make the most of it. This clearly wasn’t an everyday occurrence. “I’m almost certain I’ve never met you up close before.”

He smiled, nodding to your hair, swept back into a style you’d become fond of lately. “Never met you, but I’d seen you around. You were rather well known among the order.”

“Guess those are the perks of being his padawan, huh?” You’d echoed your thoughts from earlier, and he chuckled.

“He was the person that everyone wanted to be. Not just a great Jedi, but a good man.”

Of course. You knew that better than anyone. He cared so deeply about everything he set his hand to. He was kind and gentle, though sometimes sarcastic and witty, but that too made him more likable in your eyes.

“He’s not changed in that aspect,” you let him know, and he took it as motive to tease you.

“I knew he’d be here,” he returned, and you looked up and laughed a bit. He’d caught you there. “He’d never left your side.”

You didn’t respond, just let that statement sink in. You guessed that many more Jedi in the order had perceived your relationship for what it really was, but never said anything. Maybe they were rooting for you, or maybe you gave them hope. It was all up for interpretation, but the one thing you could never deny was the realness in it. He’s never left your side, and he never will. Of that, you can be absolutely sure and certain.

When it was time to close up the bar that night, you’d left before the owner, making sure he was alright after the fiasco of the day. You passed your new and unlikely friend the Jedi on the way out as well, giving a simple nod that spoke more than just words. You knew he needed to talk with you, and as much as you will neglect to admit it, you needed to talk to him, too.

You found yourself at the stables before sundown, meeting with Obi by your shared Eopie, ready to go home.

You figured that the bundle of joy news could wait until things were a bit more settled. You didn’t know how the scene of today would go in the long run, or if imperials had been alerted, but you wanted to know about all of that before trying to make future plans for the child you were carrying.

He saw you enter the sectional, and smiled to you with that adoring look in his eye, the one that never faded.

“You won’t believe what happened today.”

-

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[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Once Upon a Time on The Razor Crest

Summary: You and Din come to an agreement

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Another Friday, another part to the OUATOTRC. I do apologize if the chapters appear short, but with the crazy schedule for work, looking after my mom, I'd rather give short chapters than no chapters at all.

However, I am almost done the next section of Gym Membership, once it's completed I will be able to upload it, for you all. It'll be focusing on Crosshair.

I hope you all have a lovely weekend.

Love oo.

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warning: mentions of past trauma, discussions of children, truth test, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

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Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE RAZOR CREST SEVEN

CHAPTER FIVE

There was no going back now that Din opened his mouth, “Why don’t we try it out for three months. Three months with no commitment or expectations. At the end, if either of us feel uncomfortable or we realize it’s not working, we move on. No harm done.”

“Really?” I couldn’t help the smile that broke out across my face.

“Yeah” he chuckled, matching my smile. “However there is still one hurdle you have to cross, and if you fail that, there’s nothing I can do. Fair?”

“Understood. What’s the final hurdle?”

“Oh well that’s for me to know and for you to find out. In the meantime, I’ll let you know our daily routine. We start every day at 5:30 a.m., no exceptions. My son has to be up that early for me to get him ready, fed, and off to school.”

“Even on the weekends?”

“Even on the weekends.”

“How old is your son?”

“Six”

“Grade One, right?”

“Yeah, you have kids?” Din tilted his head at the woman who surprised him.

“No”

“You good with kids?”

“Haven’t really been around them much” the experience I did have couldn’t even really amount to experience. My hand itched to rub my womb, the past making another appearance in my mind. Stop it. Focus.

Din simply nodded, it was a fair and honest answer, again she surprised him, “Lunch is usually around noon or one or sometimes not at all, depending on what I’m doing and where I am. Grogu usually gets home by four, we tend to eat dinner by six, and he’s promptly in bed by eight or nine, on the weekends I’ll let him stay up till about ten.”

“Understood”

“It’s a bit strict the timing, but I find it works best for him. He’s a bit of a hyper kid, always trying to get into trouble.”

Huh, that was different from what Cobb said, but then it wasn’t my place to say anything, “I get it, I was like that as a kid”

“Tell me something about yourself, if you’re going to be staying here, I would like to at least known something about the woman who will be looking after my son”

Made sense, as much as I didn’t want to reveal too much about my past and about myself in general, Din strangely made me feel safe. It was such an odd feeling, but a welcome one. 

“Umm… not much to tell, I’m 30. Single, obviously. Grew up on Saleucami, and just started moving around, basically that’s it.” To a degree what I said was true, certainly not gonna tell him what my name really was, that was more for his and his son’s safety.

“Where in Saleucami? My brother use to be stationed there”

“Oh nice, I lived closer to the mountainous regions of Saleucami”

“I think that’s where my brother was, he always mentioned a burger joint that was out there, that only the locals know”

“Eopie Burger” I responded, nodding my head.

“Yeah, pretty decent burgers he said”

“That is if you’ve never been to BurgerNuna. Awesome burgers, but then you also have Hamburger Nexu, those guys know how to layer. Anything else you want to test me on?” I smirked, I had a lot of fond memories of Saleucami; at least that was before I ended up on Coruscant and the nightmare my life turned into shortly after. 

“You catch on quick, gotta respect you for that” Din couldn’t help smirk at her, he didn’t think a city brat would’ve caught on to his test, but she saw right through his question. He had to hand it to her, she was starting to grow on him. 

I could understand why Din was being cautious, “Hey I get it, you have a six-year-old, I’m a stranger who walked in off the street with no credentials, no background, and you’re supposed to take my word for it. I would be cautious too.”

“Thanks.” Din took a moment to decide if he was going to go through with this, he didn’t get any sort of evil intentions coming from her, and Vanth would never allow anyone who could be a danger to eitherof them to come to his home, “Alright I guess I should show you to the room we prepared for whoever was going to take the job. It’s down here on the main floor. Family rooms are upstairs. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, totally get it.” 

Din stood motioning for her to follow him. He didn’t believe a single thing she told him, but she was genuine about being from Saleucami, or at the very least was genuine about living there. He’d have to talk to Vanth later about who this woman truly was; he had a feeling she was one of Cobb’s special people, he pushed it to the back of his mind. 

The entrance to her room was just off the main hallway that connected to the foyer, “It’s just back here, the room isn’t overly furnished or anything, just basics,” Din opened the door turning on the light, “My brother stays here from time to time, so if you do find something … unsavoury, I apologize. I did clean it from top to bottom, but you know sometimes things get missed.��

I looked around the room, it was cozy, like he said it wasn’t overly furnished, but cozy. The fireplace was covered in white brick on the south wall, the window on the west side of the room was wide enough that you could sit and read on it if you wanted to, but it was in need of a cushion or something. There was a desk in the corner with a landline communicator, the bed on the opposite side of the fireplace was a nice full sized bed. The walls were a soft comforting grey colour with an accented yellow wall. 

The room was so different from all the cramped and shared spaces I’d been living in the past few years. It brought a tear to my eye.

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[pocketramblr]

I Lied here's the first thing you get to see.

vote for whats next ig because this is but a small scene

"Solus 7, land in Bay 3, clear." The station admin said over the com, and Nana turned her mic back on.

"Clear." She repeated, moving to activate her landing gear. "Sorahiko, you'll-"

"I heard." He said, and she heard him stand from the table, ignoring Toshi's muffled complaints at turning the game off.

"Com me if you need a pickup." Nana pulled into the bay and dropped the feet before spinning her chair around.

"Of course." With a wave of his hand, Sorahiko's bag flew to him. "Probably be four, five cycles. Payment is in Toshinori's pocket."

"What?" Toshi sat up from his sprawl at the table, frowning. "But he didn't give-" he pulled a parcel from his pocket, opening it with a look between childish wonder and teenage annoyance. His nose wrinkled like an eopie.

Nana laughed, looking back at Sorahiko. His eyes were shining even if his lips barely curled in a smile. "Never gets old. You need to work on your awareness, youngling."

Nana wondered how the Jetiise could bear the bright presence leaving the temple, how they didn't appreciate what they had in Knight Torino. Disagreements about attachments aside, the fact that they let the man shove creche duty off on others to run other errands meant they didn't know that they had. If he were mando’ad, Sorahiko would never be able to escape ke'bajur.

If.

She shook her head while Toshi complained about not being a youngling- he was almost an adult in some systems, he wore armor after his verd’gotem, he was not an adiik anymore- and gave Sorahiko a final wave.

He dipped his head, and she felt a press against her own, the air moving against her forehead. An almost Keldabe kiss, that no Mandalorian would have been able to do. She dipped her own head against it, and missed the flicker of something on his face, thinking instead that the Jetiise overly valued their sabers and visions, when Sorahiko's strength was in neither of those, but manipulating even the air around him, flexibility over strength or stratagem.

"See you." He nodded to Toshi once more, then turned and left for the ramp.

"I don't get it." Toshi said once the man was gone, tossing the packet of credits in the air. "Torino's a great pilot too, why'd he hire us?"

"Can't use any of the Jedi Temple ships without getting approval, and this is a personal errand." Nana spun her chair back around.

"And why did you charge him for it? We don't need fuel money that badly."

They didn't. But Toshi was showing no signs of stopping his growth spurt anytime soon, and Nana had the feeling that he'd be taller than Yoichi and broader than Sorahiko when he was done. They'd need a lot of beskar to cover him.

She glanced over at the two helmets set on the wall. Her own, gleaming, and Toshi's, which was clean and in as great condition as it could be, considering it's age. Perhaps they'd have his adult one made soon, they had enough beskar for that at least. And En'ika could get Toshi's old one...

"Solus 7, clear for takeoff."

When she returned to pick up Sorahiko, he wouldn't be in robes anymore.

*ke'bajur- to rear/teach children, as an imperative. verd’gotem- coming of age

ok so i have an au floating around and it is not going to be one comprehensive storyline... so hypothetically which one would yall want to see first?

no promises but i wanna see what you think

translated options, because there will be a lot of mando'a in the au but ill translate it there too

Yoichi's rescue from his ex-brother by a couple of commandos

Eri is reunited by a couple mandalorians

How Clan Kara* earned money for En's beskar armor

How Clan Kara's youngest child ended up with the darksaber

*Kara meaning 'star', but the clan is also named for the Ka'ra, the stars as a ruling counsel of fallen kings

"Stop it! Do not choose [this option], fools!"

[mwolf0epsilon]

Tatooine Odd Encounters

---

The trek towards his little hut had been quiet, just as it always was after a hard day at work processing the slabs of meat that he was paid to cut-up and prepare for distribution. His Eopie, Silas, was always rather peaceful after Obi-Wan brought back the old boy a little morsel of a treat. Content to stride across the sand at a leisurely pace without ever grunting derisively at his passenger.

Today however, his silence was one of disquiet. Something had been bothering the Eopie since they'd left town, a sentiment Obi-Wan couldn't help share in. He'd heard some rather strange (and honestly quite alarming) rumours about one of the Empire's outposts far beyond the Dune Sea, where only the Sand People dared trek.

The word that had been spread across town was that supposedly some kind of tremendously sized beast had taken out the entire outpost. Crushed the structures with it's impressive paws, and devoured the troopers and officers stationed there before they had the chance to call for aid.

Obi-wan had listened quietly while he untied his only companion, taken in great consideration the fear in the townsfolk's voices as they wondered if these rumours could be true. If there really was such a beast out there, rivalling even the largest sarlacc or oldest krait dragon they'd ever seen. The children, on the other hand, had seemed ecstatic in the way that only children could be when hearing such tales.

He'd briefly seen Owen Lars, carting parts for one of his moisture farms, seeming quite bewildered when he'd caught Luke and several more children playing together, pretending to be towering giants taking out an encampment of toy troopers. Obi-wan hadn't been able to help the smile that he'd cast when Owen caught his eye, shaking his head and shrugging while glancing at the boys before busying himself once more with Silas.

They weren't friends, not necessarily, but they'd come to a sort of truce. Obi-wan was permitted to be around so long as it was in passage or in the best interest of keeping the boy safe. If he just so happened to pass by to have a cup of tea with Beru once in a while, surely there would be no harm in having a quick chat? He wasn't very involved in the boy's life, just...A distant friendly neighbour he could run to if anything were to ever happen to the Lars.

Somewhat amicable allegiances or not, he wasn't a fool enough to bother Owen when he was clearly busy... And whether or not he believed word of mouth was not something up for debate. A beast of such proportions not native to the sandy and twin-sunned domains of Tatooine surely wouldn't survive out in the Dune Sea for long. If there really was any danger roaming about, it wouldn't be something to fear for long.

Or so he thought.

The farther he'd gotten from town the more Obi-wan began to believe that such wild stories were not to be taken lightly. Tatooine might not be a host to a very populous natural fauna, but the air seemed too... Still. Too quiet.

Silas's apprehensive demeanour did nothing to quell his concerns. The old Eopie was wise with age, brave with loyalty to the owner that tended to his needs, and ready to snap like a twig at the first sign of danger.

The closer they got to Obi-wan's distant little hut, the more unsettled the two became. And yet there was nothing to be afraid of for miles. Neither above, below or deeper still under the sands. There was no danger that he could sense. Just endless dunes and a sense of unease that seemed to be without reason... Until the sands beneath them both began to shift, that is.

It could almost be described like reverse quicksand. Rather than fall beneath the Eopie's feet, it rose. Like something that had been slumbering had suddenly woken up and begun to sit up. Only this wasn't one of those multiple limbed brute lizards that often tormented the Sand Folk, nor was it a krait dragon coming up for air. Neither was it the burrowing sarlacc hoping to prepare it's new pit. Whatever this thing was that had tripped up Silas and sent both he and Obi-wan tumbling, was quite large indeed.

All he could see was a blur of shaggy dark curly fur, the slightest hint of bare skin, and then an immense canvas of grey that continuously rose up in height, taller and taller and taller yet until Silas let out a cry of terror and began to buck wildly in distress. The Jedi let out his own cry of alarm, trying to reach out with the Force to calm the frightened mount, before he lost balance and was flung off the Eopie's back.

While sand was a relatively soft thing to land upon, the impact of his back against ground still felt very solid. Air knocked out of his lungs, and the twin suns blocked out by whatever towering monster they'd stumbled across, Obi-wan barely had time to process that this might be his end before his eyes rolled into the back of his skull and the world faded to black.

Above him, blinking tiredly against the blazing light of the suns, an old rather oversized clone took in a few shuddering breaths before glancing down towards whatever was making such a shrill noise. He spotted the Eopie first, bucking and hollering up at him. Very clearly terrified of the giant before it. And then his eyes drifted down to the collapsed figure on the sand. The red curls, the beard and the clothing he wore causing the giant's eyes to widen.

"General...?"

Tatooine certainly was a planet of odd encounters.

[astriiformes]

Okay so like...I'm obviously in a cry-about-star-wars mood ( sorry about the spam) and like I've always wanted to know...Is "love ignites the stars" something that gets said in the Luke&Leia&Han Trilogy? >.>

It's a line from Star Wars, but not from any of the movies! Or at least, technically not. I nabbed it from sort of a weird source.

It's actually a part of a really beautiful sequence of passages from the Revenge of the Sith novelization, of all things -- Star Wars has more than a few pretty unusually well-written movie novelizations (Rogue One has a good one, too), but the RotS one by Matthew Stover really wins for being the most weirdly artsy and/or literary of the bunch. And the particular set of quotes the line comes from is maybe my favorite description of, like, everything I love about Star Wars -- although for you to get the full effect of it, I have to share some pretty hefty sections of text!

From the start of Part I, at the beginning of the book, when Anakin and Obi-Wan are on their way to rescue Palpatine:

The dark is generous. Its first gift is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others. The dark protects us from what we dare not know. Its second gift is comforting illusion: the ease of gentle dreams in night's embrace, the beauty that imagination brings to what would repel in day's harsh light. But the greatest of its comforts is the illusion that the dark is temporary: that every night brings a new day. Because it is day that is temporary. Day is the illusion. Its third gift is the light itself: as days are defined by the nights that divide them, as stars are defined by the infinite black through which they wheel, the dark embraces the light, and brings it forth from the center of its own self. With each victory of the light, it is the dark that wins.

Then, from the start of Part II, which starts when Anakin and Obi-Wan return from the same mission and the plot starts getting into Anakin's actual "fall"

The dark is generous, and it is patient. It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt. The dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause those seeds to sprout. The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout, for the dark is the soil in which they grow, and it is the clouds above them, and it waits behind the star that gives them light. The dark's patience is infinite. Eventually, even stars burn out.

And last but not least, the section the quote actually comes from (and requisite hope at the end of the tragedy!), which is the closing lines of the book:

The long night has begun. Huge solemn crowds line Palace Plaza in Theed, the capital of Naboo, as six beautiful white gualaars draw a flower-draped open casket bearing the remains of a beloved Senator through the Triumphal Arch, her fingers finally and forever clasping a snippet of japor, one that had been carved long ago by the hand of a nine-year-old boy from an obscure desert planet in the far Outer Rim... On the jungle planet of Dagobah, a Jedi Master inspects the unfamiliar swamp of his exile... From the bridge of a Star Destroyer, two Sith Lords stand with a sector governor named Tarkin, and survey the growing skeleton of a spherical battle station the size of a moon... But even in the deepest night, there are some who dream of dawn. On Alderaan, the Prince Consort delivers a baby girl into the loving arms of his Queen. And on Tatooine, a Jedi Master brings an infant boy to the homestead of Owen and Beru Lars— Then he rides his eopie off into the Jundland Wastes, toward the setting suns. The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins—but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.

[alderaani]

Family

Summary: Rex wakes up after leaving Saleucami to find Cody at his bedside, and has to grapple with meeting Cut Lawquane and what it means to be a clone. Gen fic, 2.4k of brother feels.

Part of my series 100 clone centric prompts, or readable on AO3 here.

A/N: Look nothing breaks my heart more than when Cut questions Rex about duty and he is SO quick to start talking about protecting his hypothetical children. I’ve been staring at this fic for three days and getting fed up of writing it, u know when you’ve just been staring at words so long they stop being words? So here it is, and i hope you like it!

The medbay lights were low when Rex woke. He knew where he was even before he opened his eyes, lulled by the ever-present rumble of the engines and the sharp smell of antiseptic. And sure enough, the Resolute took gentle shape around him, turning from smear to ship once he’d blinked the sleep away. His eyes always felt dry and sensitive after sedatives, painfully tight around the edges. For a moment he lay perfectly still, letting the galaxy trickle back in, sense by sense.

The bleep of a monitor, the stiff, starched edges of the sheet tucked up round his body. A warm, solid weight wrapped around his hand, the rumbling sound of someone snoring, the unnatural dryness of his mouth and the lingering taste of bacta on his tongue.

He looked down, then smothered a laugh. Cody was crumpled like discarded flimsi in a chair next to his bed, hunched so that his head and upper shoulders were wedged close to Rex’s thigh over the blankets. His nose was scrunched with sleep, the force of his soft snores dislodging the curls on his forehead with each puff of air. He still smelt like blaster residue and dust, and his cheek had left dark smudges on the sheet. There was a discarded datapad next to his head, glowing with soft blue light as it announced the arrival of several new messages. His hand was the heavy weight that Rex could feel, wound tight around his own. Cody had split his knuckles again, the skin around the thin cuts raised and puffy and glistening with freshly applied bacta.

Rex wasn’t sure when he’d gotten here, but it couldn’t have been too long, or someone would have bullied his brother into at least hitting the freshers.

He couldn’t remember making it to the rendezvous, the memories buried somewhere under the jarring bolts of pain from his chest and the way his arm stung like a nest of hornets as the nerves healed. Telling General Kenobi that he’d been on the mend hadn’t been a lie, per se, but even Rex could admit that he’d perhaps been stretching things. It was at least reassuring to know that he’d not fallen off his eopie and collapsed in some unremarkable patch of Saleucami’s farmland.

Rex stared around the familiar bay, struggling with the rush of relief and discomfiture that spread through his body. Nothing was out of place here; he could look around and know exactly what to expect, from the barracks to the bridge. He wanted to let it settle him the way it usually did, to let relief seep into his bones at another mission fought and – well, not won, but survived. This time it wouldn’t quite come.

It wasn’t because he’d been injured. That had happened more times than he had fingers. Maybe it was because The Resolute was the closest thing to a home that he had…and for the first time in his short life, he couldn’t help but find it a little lacking. He’d come back. That much was true, and he was glad of it. But there was some part of him that was still stranded on that farm on Saleucami, rooted there in the sound of children’s laughter and the humming of insects in the fields. He could still feel the pale sun beating down on his face, taste the sharp wind on his tongue, and was surprised to find it bound up in a small ache in his chest.

The blaster bolt would scar. So would this feeling. But neither would ever fully go away.

When Rex had told Cut that he’d never really thought about the names they gave each other, the individuality it bestowed upon each clone, he’d been telling the truth. It had simply never been a priority beyond a fleeting thought. There were always more important things to think about; they all knew that each brother was different, beyond name, station, hair colour or designation. To clones, those distinctions they chose for themselves were sacred. And that had always been enough, until now. The sight of one of their own framed in a farm-house door, children round his feet and a whole world under them…the possibility of it sat irreversibly inside him, a Pandora’s Box he’d never known could be opened.

Maybe he’d never thought about it before – but on some level now he always would.

That terrified him.

“Rex’ika?”

The fingers around his palm flexed, dragging him back to the present.

He glanced down to see Cody’s eyes fixed on his face, puffy but alert, his cheek creased where the sheets had pressed into them. His ori’vod jerked frantically into motion, pushing upright with a groan. Rex didn’t even have time to speak before Cody’s fist was colliding lightly with his shoulder.

“The kriff d’you let yourself get shot for?”

“Good to see you too, vod,” Rex grumbled, rotating his shoulder for show then actively wincing when the motion sent streaks of pain skittering from the crater in his chest.

He knew that Cody had seen it, because instantly his hand pushed him back firmly into the pillows, like if he didn’t hold him still Rex was going to try and escape somewhere.

“I’m alright,” he said after a moment, patting Cody’s hand a couple of times before his brother deemed fit to let go of him.

“Oh yeah? Because five hours ago you said that and then fell flat on your face.”

Rex grimaced. He couldn’t refute the claim because he didn’t know any better, and sadly from the bits of the journey he could recall, collapsing at the end of it was a distinct possibility. There was a familiar pinch between Cody’s eyebrows as he hovered, ready to manhandle Rex again if he felt it necessary. It was an expression that Rex knew intimately, because it only appeared when he’d worried him.

He’d been a scrappy cadet; never allowed anonymity because of his hair, defiance and recklessness had been a kind of defence mechanism. If he was going to be singled out, he could at least control the way it happened. The fourth time he’d been made to run so many laps that he vomited, he’d looked up, panting, to see Cody’s pinched face staring back. The commanding batches were only meant to supervise the punishments of the younger levels, but Cody had reached out a hand anyway and hauled Rex to his feet. He’d been the one to teach him that there were better ways to make himself untouchable.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Rex said, swiping his tongue over his dry bottom lip. “Tastes like Kix gave me the good stuff.”

Cody rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching into something fond. “He’s gonna kick your shebs, and I’m gonna let him. You should’ve seen his face when the General said you were on your way. The hells were you thinking, di’kut? We could’ve sent an escort.”

Rex felt his answering grin slide off his face at the thought, uncertainty settling back into his belly like lead. An escort would have had to come to the farm, and in turn would have seen the deserter. Some not insignificant part of him felt almost affronted at what Cut had done, even as he didn’t regret keeping his secret. It ground against what they’d been taught about themselves, against what had been built into their DNA. It didn’t matter whether they liked war the same way it didn’t matter whether they liked the colour of their eyes. It was what it was.

But Rex could comprehend turning his back on that, even if he didn’t understand. What was harder to fathom, with Cody’s hand anchoring his own, palm sweaty with relief that his ori’vod wouldn’t voice, was being alone. The idea of saying ‘family’ and not meaning a face just like his own. The thought of being cut off from the vode, from the invisible threads of brotherhood that transcended them all…it was an alien thing, sharp and unpleasant.

“It was for the best,” he said to Cody, a beat too slowly. “The farmer who put me up…he wasn’t the friendliest sort.”

Cody’s gaze sharpened. “Anti-clone?”

Rex very nearly laughed. “No, just the over-cautious type. He didn’t want the war on his doorstep.”

Cody paused for one very long moment, surveying Rex with eyes that always unearthed everything he wanted to hide. He would have been more worried, had he not been quite confident that Cut Lawquane was unpredictable.

“Then why are there hand-print bruises on your neck, Rex?”

Reflexively, Rex reached for his throat, running his fingers gingerly over the puffy skin. He hadn’t realised that they were there, but immediately the sensation of dangling by his throat came back to him.

“I got throttled by a commando droid, that’s why. Turns out the farmer didn’t get a whole lotta say about some landin’ in his field. We handled it.”

Cody swore, his hand tightening around Rex’s again. “Just couldn’t miss out on the action, could you vod’ika? Gettin’ shot wasn’t enough?”

Rex grinned, shrugging a little. “How else am I gonna give you grey hairs? Me ‘n Wolffe have still got that bet going about which marshal commander it’ll be first, you or Fox. And I’ve gotta make up for the whole Senate somehow.”

“Unbelievable,” Cody growled, shoving Rex’s hand away and running a hand over his head. “Throwing the odds is illegal, Chakaar. What did he wager? Corellian whiskey? Koon always sneaks him the best shit.”

Rex snorted, wrinkling his nose. “Hardly. As if I’d risk my shebs for a drink, Kote, it’s for the glory.”

Cody leaned back in his chair, face still a picture of outrage. Rex knew that in any other scenario he’d have already been in a headlock, and grinned smugly at the fact he was currently untouchable.

“Yeah, well, next time you don’t hafta try so hard,” Cody muttered. “Or you’ll bypass grey hairs and push me straight to heart attack.”

“That still counts as a win.”

Rex knew he fully deserved the punch that Cody landed on his leg, covering his mouth to muffle the laugh that wanted to burst out of him. The rest of the bay was surprisingly quiet, the lighting low and soft. The vast majority of the beds were empty, the few other occupants sound in either natural or induced sleep. Cody probably should have gone to alert the on-duty medic that he’d woken up, but instead the silence lapsed on between them, Cody’s eyes crinkling soft at the corners again in that unguarded way that Rex missed from their youth.

After a moment Cody’s pad chirped from between the disturbed sheets, a gratingly cheerful sound that never heralded anything good. Rex watched his brother sigh and pick up the offending item, scrolling and clicking through notices as the tension crept back into his face. Cody had always been like that – ruthlessly efficient, wickedly shrewd, a ship against which the rest of them could weather all storms. Any clone who’d ever met him knew what class he was destined to go into, and when he’d been promoted, the only person who’d been surprised was Cody himself.

There was a pride in that, Rex reflected; to excel so thoroughly at the purpose for which you’d been made. But there was no choice in it either, and it was an odd thing, to look at Cody for the first time and find it a little jarring that he couldn’t picture him as anything else.

“What? Have I got something on my face?” Cody had looked up from his datapad with one eyebrow raised. Then he sighed again, jabbing at the screen grumpily. “I swear Bly waits until it’s my night cycle to send me forms on purpose.”

Rex watched him type for a few more seconds, then looked down at his hands.

“Have you ever thought about the end of the war?”

There was a long pause, hanging stunned in the air between them. Rex twisted his fingers together then looked up, feeling oddly vulnerable. Cody’s brow was lifted in a rare moment of unguarded surprise, before his eyes narrowed, searching Rex’s face.

“…no, I suppose I haven’t,” he said eventually. “General Kenobi theorises that it’ll hinge on –“

“No, I meant – have you ever thought about what we’ll do after.” Rex said softly.

Cody blinked a few times then leant back in his chair.

“After?” The word curled uncertainly off his tongue, an awkward shape in his mouth. “Don’t you think we’ve gotta win the damn thing first, Rex’ika?”

Rex shrugged, feeling his shoulders creep up round his ears the way they always did when he was nervous. The words almost stuck in his throat, scraping raw as he pushed them out, unformed and fledgeling.

“Yeah, of course. But…all the same. For some of us there will be an after. Commander Tano talks about it sometimes – getting back to all the things she did before.”

That did make Cody smile, a little fleeting thing. “General Kenobi does too. He had to put all his plants in the Temple gardens, says he misses them.”

“Have you ever thought about going with them?”

Cody’s eyebrows jumped again, a rare, blank look on his face that made Rex feel better and worse all at the same time. “Can’t think why the Jedi would need clones around in their Temple. What’s this really about, Rex?”

Rex let out a breath, a long gusting sigh that peeled out of his ribcage, and fixed his eyes back on the ceiling. “Staying with that farmer…eating at his table, sharing his food. Talking to his kids…it just made me wonder, you know? What that might be like.”

Cody snorted, but his eyes were impossibly warm as he scrubbed a knuckle over Rex’s short blond hair. “You? A farmer? Didn’t you kill the plant Kenobi got Skywalker for his lifeday?”

Rex batted him away. “That thing was already dead when he brought it to me. And to be honest, the eopie they lent me stank. But…his kids were cute. Real big eyes, you know?”

The corner of Cody’s mouth had ticked up again as he settled himself back down with his datapad. “Tano and Skywalker not kids enough for you?”

He ducked the fist Rex shoved his way, chuckling, and they settled back into a docile quiet, Cody confused, and Rex unsure how else to put his feelings into words. How it wasn’t just the farmer, or the kids, or the land. Just the new, frightening possibility that one day they might be his to take. Rex felt the drowsiness creep back in on him, cresting and falling in a wave. He didn’t fight it, twisting down into the sheets and letting the soft tapping of Cody’s fingers on glass lull him on. When he reached the precipice of sleep, hovering somewhere above a dream, he felt his brother’s hand squeeze his one more time, then heard him speak.

“I guess I never have thought about it, vod. But you’re right. Maybe it does sound nice.”

taglist // @nelba @iscream4clones @bad-batch-of-fics @leias-left-hair-bun @majorshiraharu @simping-for-fives // join here

[lizartgurl]

Twin Suns (Leia and Luke Lars)

The sand stung at Leia's face, and she offered a silent prayer of gratitude for the goggles that protected her eyes.

"Have you found the leak, yet?" She called to her brother, high up atop the vaporator.

"Almost!" Luke called back down. "Pass me that sealant?"

Leia stretched across their landspeeder like a sunbathing womp rat to reach the tookbox in the back compartment. It was the twins' pride and joy. They had worked overtime for three seasons to try and earn enough money before Uncle Owen took pity on them and surprised them with a secondhand speeder, handing it over for only half of their earnings. Owen defended his moment of generosity by saying it would help the work go faster, and it was more of a gift for himself than for the twins, but Aunt Beru's knowing smile said otherwise.

They took incredibly good care of it. Like was content to handle the maintenance on his own, though Leia knew enough to survive if she were stranded on her own. Leia had worked with Aunt Beru to upholster the leather seat cushions with eopie hides, and picked out a subtle orange with pink accents to replace the fading pink.

Leia's fingertips brushed against the bottle of sealant in the toolkit, and she finally grabbed it, tossing it up to Luke.

Luke absently mumbled a 'thank you,' squeezing both sides of the vaporator together to apply the sealant. The final coat dried almost instantly, sealing the precious drops of water inside to be harvested later.

Luke leaped down, victorious.

"Give her another try," He said, though the confidence clearly stated that he knew it would work already.

Leia flipped the switch and turned it on. The old vaporator smoothly hummed to life, and Leia saw the condensation began to gather inside the large tanks at the base.

"Well done," Leia allowed her brother a compliment. Leaning back against the landspeeder, she took a swig of precious water from their canteen. Far off in the Bright blue sky, she noticed something.

No clouds and sparse settlements offered an unobstructed view of Tattooine's atmosphere, where two distant specs chased after one another.

"Give me your macs," she said, holding out her hand insistently.

Luke stared at her hand, and Leia kept her eyes trained on the sky above.

"What's the magic word?" he asked.

"I won't burn all your Imperial Academy pamphlets and delete your application if you give me your macs right now."

Luke handed over the macronoculars quickly, and took a drink from the canteen as Leia zoomed in on the atmosphere.

They were definitely star fighters, larger than the ones that lumbered into Tosche Station every once in a blue moon, but on the macs the largest one was no bigger than her fingernail.

The larger ship was chasing the smaller one, with bright neon streaks leaping back and forth between them as they raced across the sky.

"What's got your hair in a twist?" Like asked with another lengthy sip of water.

"My hair's always in a twist," Leia tossed her braid back over her shoulder. She handed back the macs, but her eyes never left the sky.

"Take a look. Does that look like an Imperial Star Destroyer to you?" she asked.

Luke took a quick glance. "Yeah, that's a Star Destroyer. I don't know the make of that other ship, though. What do you think's going on?"

Leia shrugged. "An ambush?"

"Maybe they stole something?" Luke mused

"What's worth stealing out here?" Leia snorted.

Luke made a note of the coordinates on the macs and secured them on the lanyard around his neck. He tucked away the toolbox with cheerful abandon and climbed in the driver's seat.

"Come on, we can get a better view at over at the station. Maybe the others will have have a better idea of what's going on."

[gabriel4sam]

How Rex was almost blown up but, at least, he wasn't eaten by a wild eopie

Beta by the awesome @myurbandream , one of the stories I wrote for @clonewarssavedexchange I wanted to post it there the day of reveal, but the end of the week has been quite busy, so hop, here it is. 

Rex x Obi-Wan, post Revenge of the Sith

Under the cut, the story, for @captainrexsbiggesthoe

Ash was obscuring the air and Rex’s ears were ringing. He needed a few seconds to determine why the world seemed sideways: it was because he was lying flat on the ground. He rolled over with a pained groan, spitting out some dirt and half-decomposed leaves.

What….

Where…

He shook his head, like it could reboot his brain, but put that in the bad idea category when his pulsing headache immediately intensified.

Where the kriff….

No, first things first, was there a chance people would shoot at him in the next few minutes? Because it was more or less a daily occurrence and he was feeling too badly right now to add a few burn wounds from blasters.

Cautiously, he raised his head, watching for impromptu Imperials, bounty hunters, or crazy Sith. The usual, in a way.

Since nobody tried to kill him right away, he crept over to the nearest tree big enough to act as cover and tried to remember how he had landed himself in this situation.

There had been… there had been a mission, and he would surely remember everything, if his head would just stop ringing.

There had been a mission, with the young Rebel Alliance, and Rex had volunteered. He had been on Alderaan at the time… He had been on Alderaan, with Obi-Wan, because young Leia had terrible nightmares, and the Organa family had called Obi-Wan to help, terrified that Leia would unknowingly call Vader (or Sidious) in her sleep, would make herself vulnerable.

They had been on Alderaan and Obi-Wan was supposed to go back to Tatooine the next week, and Rex was supposed to go with him for a week of downtime, before an important mission in the Hapes Consortium. It was then that the news had come. Mon Mothma had narrowly escaped death on Coruscant. One of the Alliance operatives, a woman named Motée who Rex had met a few times, even worked with, had rescued Mon Mothma from the transport taking her to prison, awaiting a trial where she would certainly be declared an enemy of the Empire and executed. Now the two women needed extraction from the space station, a few systems from Coruscant, where their ship had fallen apart.

Rex had learned a few things that day.

One, Motée and Mon Mothma were two of the members of the long list of past lovers Obi-Wan had had, a list Rex always did his best to not think of, because it made him feel like a bumbling amateur on this particular subject.

Two, Obi-Wan was apparently bored enough on Tatooine (a planet where life was cheap and where, as Beru had once confided to Rex, Obi-Wan apparently couldn’t go a week without troubles with Tuskens/Jabba’s goons/slavers/all of the above) that going on a dangerous mission only a few systems from Coruscant, when he was still one of the most wanted men in the Empire, seemed like a good idea to him.

Rex had abandoned the effort  to convince Obi-Wan against taking the rescue mission twenty minutes into their spectacular row. When Obi-Wan was like that, trying to make him change his mind was fruitless.

“A bath,” Rex had said, “and then to bed.”

His lover had scowled at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Oh for Force’s sake… I still think you’re acting like an idiot," Rex had said, "and I regret that coming along to protect you is impossible, since I have to head off for the Hapes mission soon. But I’m not letting you leave on a sour note. So, no more talk about this idiotic, death-wish idea of yours. Warm water and your sexy lover in it. And perhaps when we're clean, I'll feel better enough about that mess to fuck the stupidity out of you.”

And then of course, because Rex (as a deserter from the Imperial Army) was only slightly less wanted than Obi-Wan, he had decided to go with the Jedi on that rescue mission after all. He had nagged Wolffe until his brother accepted the Hapes mission in his stead and… Obi-Wan had had the nerve to ask if it was really reasonable, as Rex's face was too well-known to risk himself so close to Coruscant.

What had happened after that?

Yes, he had decided this rescue mission was a good opportunity to field-test one of the gadgets from Alliance Intelligence, some prosthesis supposedly good enough to make a human pass for a Twilek. He had sacrificed, with a note of despair, his beard. Then he had almost been strangled to death by the damn prosthetic lekku, which had made Obi-Wan cackle, a very un-Jedi-like reaction in Rex’s opinion. But the Jedi had still helped with the prosthesis and the make-up on his face.

The prosthesis.

Rex groped around his left ear, searching for the emergency release catch, and the whole thing came apart, taking with it a good part of the headache. Rex turned it, examined it. The prosthesis apparently made for a good helmet: half of it was charred and ripped apart, but it had probably saved his life.

It had probably saved his life when someone had tried to blow them up , on the moon where they were supposed to ditch the public transport shuttle used to extract Mon Mothma and Motée from the space station, and to join an Alliance ship waiting for them.

Rex stood up and, blaster in hand, he went to search for Mon Mothma. He had credits in his belt, if necessary he could take her to an Alliance hideout a few systems from here and come back later to search for the other two.

He was trying not to think about Obi-Wan. Rex had definitely seen him fall, but the Senator was the first, the only priority. She needed to live, even if his lover died for it. Mon Mothma was a beacon of hope in a way few people could be, and they couldn’t let that hope die.

Kriff… that’s why smart armies didn’t send lovers as agents on the same mission! Because even if Rex knew his duty, his heart was raging, demanding Obi-Wan as the first, the only priority!

Of course, because nothing had ever been easy for Rex, the first person he found was neither the one he wanted to for duty, nor the one he wished to for love, but the one he had (he could admit it in the privacy of his brain)  totally forgotten in the adrenaline: Motée, the operative of the Rebel Alliance.

Her shoulder was bleeding, but she was quite busy interrogating a trembling Devanorian, with a small blaster so close that the poor idiot was squinting at the menacing barrel.

“Where?” Rex asked.

“I'll know in a minute,” Motée answered, and indeed, she did. Whoever had trained her before her time in the Alliance had done a good job. They only needed three hours to find the bounty hunters. It was, and Rex was quite vexed by this, a big collection of idiots. Amateurs, served by incredible luck, who thought they had made such a catch, simultaneously capturing the newly wanted Senator and the infamously known General Kenobi, two traitors to the Empire. The bounty hunters had been lucky, until Rex and Motée had arrived to rescue the two red heads. And the moment where Motée had broken down Obi-Wan’s Force suppression collar was the moment things really took a turn towards the ugly for the bounty hunters.

A few lightsaber-severed hands on the ground later, the four Rebels were escaping. Motée was piloting, and Rex was bandaging his head and having a crisis of self-worth.

Ten years ago, at the end of the war, Rex was sure they would have been quicker to rescue his lover and the Senator, but today, he was pretty sure he had slowed down Motée.

“I’m getting too old for this,” he grumbled, watching his face in the mirror to be sure the bacta was correctly applied.

It wasn’t the first time he thought that and once, a few months ago, a drunken Gregor had confessed the same thing. In his darkest insomnia-filled nights, Rex feared it was true, that his usefulness on the field was getting thinner every day. Time passed rapidly for the clones, engineered to grow up quickly, and soon he would be reduced to training new recruits, slowly going mad because he couldn’t take a more direct approach to destroying the darkness that was taking over the galaxy.

Would he ever see the end of the Empire?

Would all his still-enslaved brothers be decommissioned because they were getting too old, before rescue came for them?

He sat down heavily on the bunk, at the same moment Obi-Wan entered the small cabin.

“Motée plotted our way to the safest rendezvous point. We have three days of travel ahead of us.”

“Don’t know why they sent anyone,” Rex remarked, “she really didn’t need help to bring the Senator to safety.”

“Naboo’s handmaidens are strong and wise.”

“She was… that’s why she was so kriffin familiar! She looks…”

“Yes, she looks like Padmé would have, if she had had the chance to age past her twenties.”

Obi-Wan sat down next to him and put his hands on Rex's cheeks to inspect his wounds.

“If I hadn’t insisted on going on this mission, we would be on Tatooine right now and you wouldn’t have been hurt,” Obi-Wan said.

“Cyare, thinking like that is the way to madness. Our ship could have crashed down in your damn desert, I could have been eaten by a wild eopie-“

“A wild eopie, really?”

“-what I'm saying is that you can’t play the what if game, and even if I get killed one day, it certainly won’t be your fault.”

Obi-Wan made a self-deprecating sound, which didn’t surprise Rex for a second. Instead, he threw his arms around the Jedi’s shoulders and hung on until Obi-Wan got the message.  He guided their bodies until they were lying on the too-small bunk, so close together that Rex wasn’t sure which limbs were his.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Obi-Wan said.

“I didn’t-“

“You did.”

“You would have-“

“We can’t be sure of that,  any more than we could be sure that you would have been safe on Tatooine.”

Rex grunted, amused despite himself.

“ A vacation in your crazy desert,” he declared, like it was an order, “and I hope nobody tries to kill us for at least ten days. No, fifteen!”

“You aren’t choosing the right planet, if that's your objective, love.”

“I’m choosing the perfect planet, since it’s yours,” Rex said and even if he couldn’t see Obi-Wan, snuggled behind him, he just knew the other man was blushing.

Rex drifted into sleep, content to feel Obi-Wan safe and close against him.

[greyias]

FIC: Home

Title: Home Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T

In many ways, Theron Shan had been born a drifter.

A wanderer that never really stopped in one place long enough to call home. He’d come into the galaxy inside of a cave on a no-name backwater planet and his earliest memories were traveling the stars. It was best to never stay in one place too long — that was Ngani Zho’s philosophy. And where Master Zho went, Theron followed.

Whether it was on Monastery studying with the Order of the Sacred Circle, or running from the Brotherhood of the Obscene Martyr, or descending into the Valley of the Deathdroids. Most would have said that it was no way to raise a child, but Zho would have argued back that it was the perfect way to raise a Jedi — and would a Shan of Theron’s bloodline ever be anything but? Besides. Theron had loved it. Every day was an adventure building towards his birthright.

Until one day it wasn’t.

After he and Master Zho had parted ways at Haashimut, Theron tried to do the same with his upbringing. But he still clung to childhood routines. He still meditated and fasted — and most of all, he drifted. First to the swoop circuits, and then for the SIS. For the longest time, he’d thought that perhaps there he’d finally found a purpose. Maybe not a place to stay, but at least it was a calling. And if he had to crack in a few bad guys’ heads in the name of the greater good, at least he’d done something to tip the balance. No one could take that from him.

And it was fine. Good even. Maybe it wasn’t the life most would have chosen. Hell, if the Force had dealt Theron a different deck of cards he probably wouldn’t have even chosen it. But it had. And despite all of that, he was damn good at his job. Almost as if this was what he was born to be. An irredeemable drifter keeping everyone at arms’ length. A spy chasing one thrill to the next, whether he was cheating death on the job or finding a quick release afterwards in a back alley in the arms of an attractive stranger. Always unable to find happiness lest adrenaline was rushing through his veins. 

The job was enough. Or it should have been since it was all he had. However it never quite seemed to satisfy that small, wanting part of him. No matter how many successful missions or commendations or medals he racked up — not that he stopped trying, because maybe it was just that he hadn’t found that perfect mission yet. Maybe just taking out a few more Sith (or even another Dark Councilor) might satisfy that strange yearning in him he couldn’t quantify. And if he couldn’t do that, then he resolved to just ignore it.

Then he got the call. Spec Ops needed help for a special operation on Korriban. A smash and grab job to get intel to help win the war. It was just another mission, even if he was acting behind the scenes this time. At the beginning he thought that perhaps netting this win for the Republic would be the important thing. Except it went sideways and he found himself caught up in something bigger than even his paranoid imagination could dream up. A conspiracy woven throughout the galaxy, ready to tear apart the institutions he’d grown up with. Maybe unraveling this was what he’d always been meant to do. The moment he’d been waiting for.

And then there was her. His asset he’d recruited for the operation, who had followed him from Carrick Station to Manaan. And beyond. She was… unexpected. The Republic’s prized little hero that he’d unwittingly drawn into this web of intrigue. Or maybe she was a distraction. He really couldn’t tell, so he tried what he’d always done. Shove away the personal, focus on the job. Save the day first. Everything else could wait. And if it didn’t, then it wasn’t really that important anyway, right?

That’s what he told himself when they’d argued over the comms over the best way to proceed on Rakata Prime. Had muttered over and over under his breath as he waited to hear with his new Sith contact if their operations team had survived the assault from Order of Revan. Definitely hadn’t wondered about as his life had disintegrated in front of him as those that had infiltrated both the Republic and Empire had marked them all as enemies of state. It was the relief of someone with few allies he’d felt when he’d discovered she’d survived. That was all. He needed all the help he could get.

He definitely didn’t… dream of her while in exile. Because that would have been unprofessional. Stupid. He was anything but. Besides he’d had more important things to worry about than some Jedi heroically galavanting across the galaxy. Like clearing his name. Saving the galaxy from his somehow not-dead ancestor. And whatever scheme he had concocted when no one had been paying attention.  And yet…

When he’d laid eyes on her again months later it had been… he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what the word was. Didn’t know what to make of the fluttery feeling in his chest as she smiled at him. Or how to respond when she’d tossed him a flirty compliment. She was the distraction. Not the mission. Not the important thing. But then he’d gotten captured, and she… she came for him. She didn’t have to. But she did. And he couldn’t process that. Not until her lips had found his, just as searching and wanting. Needing some sort of absolution that couldn’t be made with mere words.

And then he was swept along as if he’d been caught in some inescapable current. Even if he had wanted to escape it was nearly impossible. By the time they’d finished with the Revanties on Yavin, Theron was completely under her spell. Even before the blissful afternoon they’d spent together on his shuttle he hadn’t been able to disentangle his emotions. He’d spent so long trying to keep everyone away, he hadn’t even noticed when she’d managed to break through the walls he’d spent so long building up. Hadn’t realized how… nice it was to let someone in. To share with another. Instead of push them away.

And stars. He was just some Force blind fool. What did he have to offer her? The person that had saved the galaxy over and over again. All of his accomplishments just paled against what she had done. Not that she seemed to care. Whenever she looked at him, she didn’t see his failings. She just seemed to see him. Somehow the best parts of him. And he didn’t get that. Not one bit. Not that it stopped him from trying to hold on to whatever this…. thing… was.

So of course, it was taken away.

Not by Ziost. Although his failure there should have done it. It didn’t though. She came rushing to his aid there again. Despite everything, she had his back again. Even tried to take him with her afterwards but he refused. The SIS had given him purpose when no one else had and that was worth fighting for. At least he thought it had.

In the blink of an eye something new had swept in while the Empire and Republic continued to take potshots at each other and laid everything to waste. Zakuul made everyone bow before the might of this galactic stranger. That should have been the worst part. Seeing the institution he’d devoted his entire life to start to crumble from the inside and out. But it wasn’t. They had taken her. Taken away his… his… he didn’t know. But whatever they’d had was gone now.

It was like Haashimut all over again. Although it felt worse and he didn’t know why. It shouldn’t have because he was an adult now. And this wasn’t as life changing as that had been. It was just another person who had left him. Like everyone else in his life. It shouldn’t have driven to him distraction. But maybe it was just the final chink in his armor, the proverbial straw that broke the eopie’s back. Because the Republic that he’d fought and bled for, sacrificed for his entire life was hardly recognizable now. Beholden to Zakuul. And the corporate interests. And a corrupt politician holding onto everything with an ironclad grip. 

So Theron Shan did what he did best. He drifted again.

To nowhere in particular. For no one in particular. And he fought like he had nothing to lose. On his better days he said he did it for justice. Because the people of the galaxy deserved better than the constant cycle of war that had been thrust upon him. Deserved some sort of respite from an endless grudge match, no matter the contestants. On his bad days he knew the real reason. This was vengeance, plain and simple. Because the bastards that had torn everything away from him needed to pay. No. More than that. They deserved it.

That was tempered some when he found out the truth—that Zakuul had lied. They hadn’t killed his Jedi, but frozen her away in carbonite. This revelation brought clarity and focus. He had a new mission now, he had to rescue her. Like she was always doing for him. And then they could do something about Zakuul, because if anyone could put those bastards in their place it was her. He’d learned a long time ago to never put too much faith in other people, but she wasn’t other people.

She was something else entirely.

Which was why five years after he’d stolen his last glance at her on Carrick Station he was holding his breath as he stepped onto a new planet where she’d set up camp. Had rallied others like him to the cause. Had tried to hold onto his cool as she teased him gently as if time and Zakuul had never torn them apart. As if everything around them hadn’t gone to hell. Hadn’t changed him into someone else. Possibly someone unrecognizable to her.

But damn if the woman wasn’t doggedly persistent and finally she managed to get him away from the crowd. Got him talking about everything she had missed while locked in her carbonite sleep. Got him all distracted again like she was so good at doing. And before he could stop himself, he was being honest again. Like some foolish star-eyed teenager crossing the desert on Haashimut looking for his destiny.

But she just smiled at him, despite his declaration of affection that somehow sounded both clumsy and far more suave than he was intending. Like she was just seeing him again. Not all of the anger and bitterness he’d accumulated since they’d last spoken. Or maybe she was seeing that too and just didn’t care, because she was responding in kind and moving closer. And her hands were sliding around his neck, her lips meeting his and for a moment it all faded away. Until the only thing left in the galaxy was him and her.

And that’s when Theron knew.

He was finally home.

[obislittleone]

Come What May

Episode 2/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: marital problems lol… mentions of ptsd and passed events which are triggering (order 66)

A/n: Man, this is really short and i beg your guys’ forgiveness, but I’m working really hard right now to have my company be in a parade, and things are rlly crazy rn so pls be patient I promise I’m writing whenever I can!

The night surrounded you as you quietly ran through the streets, being ever so careful not to let yourselves be seen by the troopers that were stationed at every corner. Mos Eisley had always been nearly lawless, but now there were also ominous guards that would not even let the kinder folk live peacefully. The entire galaxy was now being run with such tight precision that there was no room for mistakes. The empire had not the slightest guilt over any of it, and how could they? Palpatine, a man you once trusted and fought for, a man whom you once defended with your life because you believed in the ideals of the republic, in democracy, he now ruled with tyranny and thoughtless violence, a Sith Lord that was beyond saving. An unredeemable soul that shall always be tarnished.

When you finally reached your small dwelling in the corner of town, Obi-Wan grabbed his saber from his belt and entered first, letting you follow closely behind at a safe distance. His protectiveness over your being was always evident, but especially now that he thought you could possible be in danger.

He had not yet explained himself for the short reasoning he gave you back at the bar, only that you needed to stay silent and follow him with haste.

Your home hadn’t yet been invaded, but as you quickly packed away all the necessities for the journey out of here, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were closing in, or if you’d have to fight them in any way. Surely a few troopers wouldn’t be hard to face down, especially since they weren’t as well bread or perfectly trained as the clones were.

As soon as you had everything you would need, Obi was again the first to step out the door, his head practically on a swivel in order to make sure that the two of you would remain hidden, and safe.

Your Eopie had been in peaceful slumber for the time being, as he never was usually required to walk this late into the evening. That would soon be changing.

“Obi, you know I trust you, but I need to know what’s going on,” you looked at him sternly, hiking a leg up and over the animal before he did the same. He huffed out a breath and looked over at you, trying to remain calm. His stress was more than evident on his worn out features.

“As soon as we reach Anchor-head, I promise,” he nodded assuringly, and the only thing you could do in response was sigh and face forward. If there was one thing you’d learned repeatedly from years in the past, it was that you lacked control over yourself in the eye of uncertainty. He knew that, but he also knew ignorance was bliss, and he didn’t want you panicking, not when you already had so much to think about. “Hold tight, little one.”

He gave a small kick to the side of the Eopie, and the animal trotted out of his stall quickly and into the night.

-

You both had been riding for hours by the time the lights of the small town were in sight. You’d nearly fallen asleep on your husband’s shoulder, if not for the constant shift of your body caused by the walking Eopie beneath you.

You felt more relaxed now, away from what Obi would only have defined as certain danger. You’d come to terms about year ago with the fact that you would never live a normal citizen life. You’d never get to know the feeling of living without constantly looking over your shoulder, and feeling the need to still carry your saber everywhere you went.

It was endlessly tiring, but you had to accept it. If you didn’t, you still be in a never-ending cycle of worry, doubt, and sadness over how things turned out.

You wish everyday that you might have left with Obi-Wan when he gave you a chance, that you might have been able to avoid everything that happened to your family. To Anakin and to Padme, to the Jedi order, and to the Republic as a whole. You often wonder if Anakin had left the order if things would have turned out differently. Surely he would still be alive, and so would his darling wife the Senator. They would still be residing possibly on Naboo, raising Luke and Leia like they should have been able to from the beginning.

You’d never forgive yourself for everything that happened, because you felt that you were partially to blame. You were too worried about your relationship with Obi-Wan to even see what Anakin had been going through, your best friend, fighting the dark side until it finally took him over completely.

You snapped out of your thoughts when Obi pulled the reigns on the animal, bringing it to a halt as you reached to edge of town.

“We’ll stay here for the night, but then we must keep moving,” he helped you dismount, bringing the sack of belongings with him after he hitched your Eopie to a water trough post.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” You were relentless, he knew it all too well, and yet? He didn’t want you to be burdened with this untimely information. You’d just gotten settled into your new life and already it was falling apart again. He needed to ease your mind, though he knew telling you would probably rile you up instead, you needed to know. “You can’t just rip me out of work and tell me we’re being hunted, Obi. You have to give me some context here.”

He took your hand and stopped walking, turning to look at you sincerely. You couldn’t stand to see him so upset, but you couldn’t stand it even more when you didn’t know why he was upset.

“The troopers landed this morning, and as far as I know, they had orders to search the town. Someone in Mos Eisley tipped them off that two former Jedi were hiding out in the city,” he saw your eyes change immediately, and and much as hated to see the fear, he understood that you wanted to be aware of what was really going on. “As far as I know, you and I are the only Jedi finding solace on all of Tatooine.”

You realized you probably should have waited until you were not out in the open or exposed to ask this of him, because now you felt as though you were being watched from every angle of this space. You were now completely paranoid about every nook and crevice that someone may be looking from. The force did a great many things for you, but without time to meditate, you often were not calm in times like this. Your hands shook, and you had to close your eyes for a moment and breathe deeply to even begin taking steps with Obi towards the Inn.

It was small, it was cozy, and it felt much safer than the darkness of the town streets. Checking in was easy, considering the troopers hadn’t quite reached the town yet. You doubted they ever would, it was too low profile to even be considered by Imperial forces. They would soon probably spread throughout Mos Espa, maybe even Bestine, but you felt as though you could be safe here, at least for the night.

When you’d gotten to the room, Obi tossed you the small sack of things, allowing you to retrieve what you needed before settling in for bed. He should have known you wouldn’t be able to sleep well, but he wanted to hope for the best.

“What are we gonna do?” You began, sitting up on your elbow and facing him with a distraught look in your eye. He tried to caress the side of your face to relax you, but it did little to help. “Seriously, we have no where to go. We can’t leave Tatooine as long as Luke is here, and we can’t be in a place where we might get recognized.”

Obi thought for a moment before telling you. He’d been thinking about this on the entirety of the ride here. He wanted to be able to ease you into it, but you obviously weren’t one for subtlety, and he wasn’t one to keep you waiting for an answer.

“I’ve heard of some abandoned caverns on the edge of the Jundland mountains. They’re livable, but no ones claimed them,” He began, looking down at your arm as he glided over the smooth skin. He wanted to avoid your eyes as he told you this next part, as he knew it was a sure way to make you feel uncertain, but it had to be done. “We can get new jobs that are closer, but we’ll have to change our names. I’ll have to get a job that doesn’t require Identification. If they scan me and I come up in the system, we’re both in trouble.”

“Why would I have to change my name? I won’t come up in the system, I’ve been registered as dead for over a year.”

“My love you have to trust me,” he took both your hands in his, squeezing them tightly to convey his calming presence to you. You let his force signature wash over you for the first time that night, and all at once you were feeling better. “If there’s any chance that they suspected your survival, or even got ahold of the security holograms in the temple, you could be in danger.”

Your life had once again been turned on its axis, and there was no breech in sight. You could only hope that after all of this, you could somehow make it out with minimal scratches, either metaphorically or physically, you didn’t know. Truth be told, you’d considered asking Obi if he at some point would ever say ‘kriff it’ and leave this planet to go somewhere else. To live life on the run and have exciting adventures again, to break rules and single handedly take down the empire. You knew it wasn’t possible, though. You’d both sworn to Master Yoda that Luke would be looked after, and if you broke that promise you’d feel like a failure as a Jedi. You already felt like a pretender to your old title, seeing as though you never took your trials, and never reached knight-hood. It was a damn shame, too. You would have been one hell of a Jedi Knight.

“We also have to make some adjustments in the things that we would normally do,” He said it like he was walking on eggshells, and truthfully he was. His words were probably about to drive you close to insanity if not all the way there. You sensed in him the lack of strength to continue, but urged him on with a look, anticipant of what was to come, and how bad it was truly going to be. “I know this seems overkill, but I feel it’s important. Anything that connected us to the order needs to go. Our sabers, our robes, your braid.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. Since when did Obi-Wan run away and hide, since when did he back down from a fight, and since when did he ever loose sight of who he was and what has become him? He was a Jedi Master if there ever was one, and he was good at it. His ridiculous notions were driving you to think he was the crazy one.

“Next you’ll say we have to cut ourselves off from the force, no meditations, no training…” your face instantly fell from the annoyed joking expression it held. He looked at you with sympathy after those words and you knew what it meant. Oh, how it terrified you. “You can’t be serious. Obi, we’re Jedi, it’s what we do. If we stop now in the midst of all of this then they win, we can’t let that happen.”

“If it means we survive, then it might-“

“No. Stop this,” you sat all the way up, using all the self control you had in yourself to keep from raising your voice at this late hour, knowing there were probably other patrons deeply sleeping by now. “Killing the Jedi is what they want. If we allow ourselves to be cut off from everything we’ve ever known, then we might as well be dead.”

Your anger was well noted to him, but he did not say another word about it, instead, he simply closed his eyes and let himself breathe for a moment. Like it or not, he was bound to you by the force, a bond so strong it was rarely seen in this galaxy. A true dyad, and though he wanted to keep you safe by any means necessary, he knew that by cutting yourselves off would probably put a large strain on your connection. He didn’t know yet if he was really willing to risk that.

When he didn’t give you any response, you turned over on your side, facing away from him, and tugging the sheets up over your shoulder.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, but I don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

He understood your anger, and your aggression, though not completely barred towards him, he could see why you acted in such a harsh manner. He only wanted the best for you, he’d proven that time and again, but the methods of his madness by now were getting out of hand, and you feared you might have to step in.

-

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[scarletjedi]

Am I allowed to ask for some of my favorite Time Travelling Gigolas? Anything you'd like. Or if you're feeling more star-wars-y how about some snippet time travel there, say with Luke from TLJ era waking up back at the beginning of his journey? You know me and my weakness.

I think I’m feeling a “Luke” vibe with this one, partially because I can’t help thinking about him. Fair warning, this one contains spoilers for TLJ. 

If you strike me down, I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.

Luke hadn’t understood what Obi-Wan had meant, all those years ago. He thought, he had, with all the wild confidence of his youth, when he had faced the Emperor and thrown away his own weapon.

You’ve lost, your highness.

Like so many things, he had been wrong.

Facing down his nephew — the twisted remnants of that sweet boy he had once been — only then had Luke truly understood that Obi-Wan had merely spoken the truth from the particular point of view that Vader would understand.

The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.

Luke knew that — perhaps better than anyone, and he knew what Kylo Ren feared.

“If you strike me down,” he said, “I will always be with you.”

Kylo’s rage was blinding, like the blast of the Death Star’s lasers, like the Emperor himself in the moments of Vader’s betrayal — of Anakin’s resurrection.

There would be no resurrection of Ben Solo, and Kylo Ren would never be free of this Legacy, the Shadow of the Skywalker name.

And I will haunt you, Nephew.

Kylo struck and Luke closed his eyes. The sun was setting on Ahch’To, stretched and twinned by the planet’s atmosphere as all around him the Force raced like the first winds of a sandstorm, and Luke was a calm center in the middle of it all, letting it rage around him.

The suns were setting.

”Luke!”

The Force swelled.

“Luke! I’m shutting the power down!”

“Okay, Uncle Owen!” Luke called back, the words coming easy from his mouth as he twisted to call back over his shoulder, and stopped as he back foot sank into sand still warm from the heat of the day.

His cloak, that he had worn for more years due to the damp of his rocky, island home than for recognition of his station, was gone. As were his robes, worn and patched through as they were. Instead, he was dressed in desert whites, his legs wrapped against the sand swirling around his ankles. His hair fluttered in the coming night winds, and felt cool against his bare cheek.

Luke closed his eyes and reached out with his feelings.

In the homestead, Owen and Beru Lars went about their life, unaware of what their future would hold, and Luke had to stop and breathe past the tears that sprang to his eyes. They were here, his family was alive!

Closing his eyes again, Luke pushed further, reaching out and finding first the familiar warmth of the Darklighter homestead, and Biggs, restless. Luke pushed on.

Out, further past the Canyon and the wastes, to the edge of the Dune Sea, to a small little home, just a step above a hovel, was Obi-Wan Kenobi — his presence was muffled, deliberately so, and sluggish with sleep, and Luke pressed on before he could wake fully, extending out past the confines of his world.

In the greater Galaxy, the Force throbbed like an old wound, dark and writhing in places as if with rictus. He could sense Leia (he had always sensed Leia, even if he hadn’t recognized the feeling), but there was no answering call. Leia could not respond — perhaps didn’t even know what she was feeling. She was close, though — very close, and next to her —

Vader.

There was no mistaking that deep well of anger, or bitterness of resentment, and Luke pulled back into himself, wrapping himself in the rhythms of the desert, hiding his presence with the ease of long practice. He didn’t cut himself off from the Force, however. Not this time.

Never again.

Opening his eyes, he descended the stairs into the homestead proper so his Uncle could seal them up for the night. It was too dangerous to be out at night, what with all the Sandpeople.

His Aunt was in their small kitchen, cleaning the supplies from their tiny surgery, and Luke hovered in the doorway as he remembered. They had seen their last runaway off to Mos Eisley, where they could get off planet quickly and quietly nearly a tenday before, but the sealants in their small side-room were old and leaked sand, and Beru made a habit of cleaning her tools twice before sealing them up for the next user.

As if sensing his presence, Beru looked up and smiled at him. “Hello, Luke,” she greeted. “Care to give me a hand?”

Luke nodded, and wordlessly went to help her with her task, moving the clean tools from the sanitizer to the sealant bag. They worked in silence for a moment.

“What’s bothering you, Luke?” Beru asked.

How could he explain to her?

“Just a feeling,” he said. “Like everything is about to change.”

Beru paused, looking at him, and Luke was surprised to realize that she was reaching out to him with the Force. It wasn’t strong — certainly not strong enough for the Jedi of old to take her to the Temple — but it was there, all the same. Luke wondered, for the first time, if this was why Grandma Shmi had taken Beru under her wing.

And if Luke was right in his guess, she would be dead in two days.

“Luke,” she said, startled, as Luke suddenly backed away from the counter.

“I’m alright,” Luke insisted. “I think I’m going to turn in early. Get a head start on those condensers on the South Range.”  

“Alright,” Beru said, and Luke felt her eyes on him as he left the kitchen. “Sleep well!”

Luke did not meet his Uncle on the way to his room, which was a good thing, as he stopped stock still in the doorway, staring at the collected detritus of his young life.

There wasn’t much — Luke had never owned many things, but there were his starship replicas, his old stuffed Bantha that sat in a place of honor on top of his clothes chest. He didn’t have a personal data terminal, like Biggs had, but he had a datapad that he had found in a scrap heap and refurbished that he could use to read or play games or listen to music. His blaster rifle hung above his bed, so he could grab it easily in the middle of the night, and his memory box sat under the small lamp on his side table.

He knew the contents of that box like the back of his hand — it was one of two things that Luke had taken with him when he had left the planet for good. Still he found himself entering the room to run his hand across the cover, feeling the engravings flow under his fingers as they spelled his name, the free skywalker, in symbols no one in his life to come would recognize.

He had lost this box when his academy burned.

Luke placed it back on his bedside table with a click.

With a weariness in his heart, and a phantom ache in his limbs, Luke lay on the bed and fell fast asleep.

Luke woke in the middle of the night to the pin-drop silence of the desert at night. What had he heard —

No, not heard. Felt. There, at the outer edge of the property, stopped just beyond the sensor range.

Luke climbed from bed, he was still wearing his clothes from the day before and his hair must be a mess, but it had been decades since he’d cared about such things. Silently, he crept through the homestead, careful not to wake Owen or Beru, moving much quicker than he should have been able to.

The moons were high in the sky when Luke reached the desert surface, lighting the sands in blues. The figure waiting for him was a smear of black in the darkness. Luke walked towards it with no fear.

Closer, and the figure revealed itself to be a man, wrapped in a dark brown cloak. He still smelled faintly of Eopie, and down below the next ridge, Luke could sense the visitor’s mount.

Luke stopped, just outside of lightsaber rage, and smiled — the first true, warm smile he had felt in ages.

“Hello, Obi-Wan.”

Before him, Obi-Wan Kenobi reached up and lowered his hood with two hands. His expression was one Luke had never seen before — bewildered and wary all at once.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice creaking. “It is you — I couldn’t be sure. But what has happened to you?”

Luke’s smile softened as he sighed. “A lifetime.”

[wyofabdoms]

Te Briirud - Chapter 2 “A Debt Paid”

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: Alani has spent her whole life simply surviving. The kindness and gift of an old man on a desolate Outer Rim planet sets her life on a collision course with her past and will completely change her future, and the future of Mandalore.

Rating: Mature (Eventual Smut)

Warnings: Implied/referenced child abuse/sexual abuse, long-lost friendship, eventual romance, eventual smut, loooooong, slow burn, friends to lovers, reunions, referenced child injury, nightmares, Season 1 canonical violence

Word Count: 2032

Notes: This is going to take a while to completely finish, but I wanted to get initial reaction. It will eventually be a love story with OFC and Din, but it will most definitely be a slow burn as our protagonist won't even cross paths Din for several chapters. Yet!  But the smex and fluff is coming I promise, stick with me!

Just building a little background here, folks.

Read on Ao3

It had happened. She found it hard to believe it, but...the old man had been right.  

She had headed out to the old homestead just as the first of the sister suns’ rays topped the horizon.  Both suns were low in the sky by the time she crested a ridge looking down on the humble dauble dwelling.  She was always cautious, of course, when approaching given the numerous security measures he had placed around the home.  She knew that others had come here, too snooping around for something to scavenge or for information on the mysterious hermit.  Occasionally she would spot dark blaster streaks along the sides of the house where someone had tried without success to take out whatever power source was maintaining the security features and tracks in the sand never made it any closer than 30 meters anywhere around the perimeter.

Until today, apparently.

She spotted the astromech outside the entrance first.  His domed head swiveled back and forth often, scanning no doubt.  She was fairly sure she was out of its range, but just to be safe, she carefully retreated back down the ridge and hiked along the trail bed to climb a rock formation overlooking most of the craggy peaks surrounding the home.  She pulled out a pair of macrobinoculaurs and returned her careful consideration to the little blue and white domed head.  As she watched carefully, a shadow fell across the doorway and then that shadow morphed into a hooded figure dressed entirely in black.  Alani gasped as the sight of what he was carrying.

It was the old carved wooden box that the old man had kept so secret from her.  He had only opened it once, to retrieve the weapon that hung at her side now, concealed beneath her tunic.  

He had told her all those years ago that someday...when the time was right, someone would come and retrieve that box and it’s contents.  At that time he had made her promise: if anything ever happened to him or if he disappeared, he needed her to keep an eye on his home and the box inside until either he or that person arrived.  When she had inquired as to how she was supposed to know if it was the “right” person, he had merely fixed her with that gray-blue gaze of his, the small smile on his wizened face drawing out the deepened age wrinkles around his eyes.  

“They’ll have gotten in.”  He had said simply, as though it was the easiest answer to ever give.

She had forgotten about that promise until the day that she had ridden out to see him, bringing out a small bin of supplies to keep the old man in good shape.  She could still smell the ozone and hear the sizzle from the security measures that had been put in place.  He had told her how to unarm the protocols, but when she had gotten closer to his home it exuded lifelessness. The gated fence keeping his small family of eopies corralled swung open on its hinges, tack and saddle still hanging in their place...the animals had been released.  She had found the little food he had stored in his cupboards starting to turn bad dread flared in her stomach when she had seen his day pack still hanging on the hook by the door; typically when he would go out on an 

She had found the holo-disc laying on the center table as she had started exiting the hovel.  It had taken a few days to find a device to play the message on.  When she had made it in to Tosche Station she had convinced the attendant to let her use his mech droid for an extra two credits.  The dread transformed to sadness when his tiny, flickering blue image had hastily confirmed what she had already inferred.  

The old man was gone.

That had been over three years ago.  

Now, she watched carefully as the figure in black carefully placed the box on a work pad on the ground next to the droid and settled themselves onto the ground, carefully running their hands along the edges of the box.  They opened it and pulled out what, from this distance, appeared to be a holocube, which was inserted into the droid and a small image projected on the ground before the hooded person.  She clicked her macros back on and zeroed in on the tiny speck of hologram.  Though difficult to make out despite the magnification, she could just make out the old man.  The image shook suddenly as the little droid rocked frantically from side to side, his dome spinning as the figure in black stood slowly and turned towards her position on the ridge line.  Though she couldn’t see their face beneath the deep shadow of the hood, she could sense their gaze searching the horizon for her...no, not searching.  They could see her somehow.  She was certain.  Even though she knew she was well hidden and out of range of that droid...This person knew she was there.  Just like the old man had always known, too.

He was one, too.

A Jedi.

She felt a cold thread slither down her back as she remembered some of the stories the old man had told her.  He had never been very chatty, but once in a while she would catch him on a good day and he would talk more than usual.

She shifted her position slowly and ducked down behind a boulder, her hand brushing along the outline of the weapon hanging at her waist as she did so.

“This is a unique weapon,” he had rumbled all those days ago.  “Even I haven’t been all that successful in learning to use it properly.  The story says that it seeks its owner without fail and recognizes when it is in the hands of one who is worthy...one who can master its skill.”  

She had stared down at the gleaming item, knowing the worth and value of the material with which it was made.  Whispers in cantinas and along the smuggler and trade routes about how much even a few measly grams of this alloy could garner for someone was well known, was the stuff of legends.  

When she had tossed it only moments prior, blade side out, she had only been trying to scare off the raiders that were attempting to steal water from the hovel’s corral.  She was stunned when the item in question had ricocheted, not only off the bandits, but off several rocks and fence posts, too before returning to her hand, the impact upon catching it sending a sharp tingle through her hand.  She had shaken out her fingers and wrist, feeling her hand start to go numb.  She had never seen the old man shocked before, but that was the best way to describe the look on his face after the raiders had hightailed it up the canyon ridge and away.  

“Where did you get it?”  She had asked him, her curiosity piqued at how something so precious, so valuable had ended up on a crater such as this one.

“It….” He was always so sure of himself, so confident in his words and actions.  But not in this moment when he made an attempt to answer her question.  “...it was a gift.  Long ago.  From someone very special to me.”  That was all he would say about it as he pressed the weapon into her hands, insisting that it was rightfully hers now.  She had practiced with it every single day after that, her aim improving and her dexterity getting better and better.  He never made mention of it again, until a few weeks before he had disappeared, during the same conversation in which he had instructed her to check on his home.

“That,” he pointed to the circle at her side, “Is in your care now.  Should anything ever happen to me, it will be up to you to care for it.  To feel its call when it needs to be used. You must be it’s steward until it can be returned to its people.  To return it to its rightful place when the time comes.”

She had always found these riddles so frustrating when he spoke in them and she said so, wondering why he couldn’t just tell her anything straight ever.  His clear blue eyes had settled on her pointedly and he had suppressed a small grin.

“Very well.  One day, I will be gone and you will be charged with making sure that this weapon is returned to its rightful place Mandalore.”  He had held up his hand as she had begun to protest that Mandalore didn’t exist anymore.  “So they say.  But the Force always finds a way of putting the right people together to make even the most impossible tasks possible.  Your journey is only beginning Alani.  Mine is very nearly coming to an end, but it will not be the end of this moment.  One moment is part of the next and the next, continuing in an unending cycles. Just as the suns rise and the seasons change on some planets, as oceans ebb and flow on others...it is all connected, unbroken, just like this.” He tapped the weapon in her hand.  “Every choice you have ever made has been setting you on this path, to this moment, and to every moment still to come. You WILL find a way to return this to its home. You will succeed, even if you don’t believe it right now.  The Force flows easily over those who are kind.”

She remembered how she had scoffed at him that day, insisting that she was certainly NOT kind.  She had been too marred by time and situation, by events that had been outside of her control for too long during those dark years growing up, when her childhood had been stolen from her.  He had agreed with her in that regard, that she had indeed seen much darkness.  But he had always argued that her power did not lie in controlling the Force as he did or skill with a blaster like others. Instead, he had assured her, her power lay in her loyalty; her ability to be kind to others and to think creatively, in spite of the ugliness and pain she had experienced most of her young life.  

Alani still wasn’t quite sure that that best described her, but she knew that today, her debt to her old friend had been paid.  She had been the keeper of his secrets that had lain in wait within his home, waiting for this mysterious figure in black.  Now that they had arrived, she was no longer beholden to her promise to her old friend.  She had promised to stay until this day came.

She glanced back up carefully over the ridge line.  The figure in black still stood rooted to the same spot as before, but it seemed from this distance as though his head had lowered, as though in prayer or contemplation.  They seemed to sense that her gaze was back upon them; their head lifted and she could sense their eyes on her once more.  Then, she saw the figure raise one arm...a gesture of acknowledgment, an agreement passing silently between them.  I’ll take it from here.

She felt the lifting of pressure from her shoulders as one does when a taxing task is accomplished.  She raised her own hand carefully above the ridge one, mirror the hooded figure’s gesture, then scurried back to her speeder parked a fair distance away.  As she climbed in, she was struck with the realization that she was free to move on from this place now.  This fiery dust ball had been the longest place she had ever stayed other than her home world when she was small.  But now, one task had come to an end, had been completed, and she was free to go wherever she pleased.

Her hand fell again to the hoop of beskar at her hip.  The next task, she knew, would not be quiet so easy.

Chapter 1 “Nightmare”

Chapter 3