#Ventress was dead for a month and buried
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So. I’m. Haunted by the lighting and posing on the CX-2 poster, haunted by the fact that no one will straight up say that Tech is dead or that he wasn’t CX-2, wondering if the CX-Tech plot wasn’t dropped after all, and hoping against hope that they’re putting this man through the wringer so they can pull him out and give him the happiest possible ending. CX-2 had BETTER be in the next series and he had better be Tech, because I need this to make sense. I mean, I’ll buy that the spear symbolically killed the CX-2 persona. I’ll buy, “Oh, he had to be Crosshair’s shadow in the last third of this series but we had to foreshadow him being Tech in the next one.” “The damage you sustained on Skako Minor all of your behavioral modifications,” coming back around. I’ll buy someone surviving that in the GFFA because they can in the real world (warning for a picture of a real life injury in the link). I’ll even buy that the electricity didn’t kill him because the boulders and the waterfall definitely should have (and it’s Star Wars). I really do not care about plausible survivability. I just want the story to make sense and for Tech to get back to his family.
Anyway all I’m saying is why release a poster that’s going to fuel speculation about a guy whose face we never see after the series is done and out? If you actually dropped that plot, why not change the poster? Or just not release it? Why do this? What is the purpose of this?? Because if the purpose was to drive me, specifically, insane, then congratulations, Lucasfilm! Mission accomplished.
#the bad batch#no listen#you’re telling me#that we’ve got a show#where no less than five members of the main cast#inexplicably returned from the dead#Echo was DEAD and blown up#Gregor also got blown up and was FINE#we don’t even get an explanation#Fennec was facedown in the sand with a gut wound for HOURS#Ventress was dead for a month and buried#and PALPATINE#and you’re telling me that the rules of life and death#apply to Tech and Tech alone?#nah#listen that spear had better be a metaphorical pin in the CX-2 plot#I’ll even buy ‘this part of the finale took place in Crosshair’s head’#just put. him back.
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This is my first Rexsoka centered fic🫣
@rexsoka-monthly
They’ll Hear You/Us
Rex paced back and forth waiting for her to arrive, he hadn’t seen her in months and he didn’t think he could wait another rotation maybe, not even another hour.
He missed her so much.
Eight months ago
Ahsoka’s head rested on his chest and her slender fingers intertwined with his “I don’t want to leave again.” She murmured.
“Then don’t.” Rex whispered resting his cheek against her montrals, the feeling of dread growing as the orange Shili light streamed in from the window.
“You know I can’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face further into his chest, Rex’s throat stopped up and his eyes grew wet.
“I know…..”
“In a perfect world, my love.” Her breath came out in shudders making him pull her closer and kiss her montrals over and over, silently pleading for the sun to rise slower. “I love you so much.”
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome.”
Present
He tried sitting down but that did nothing for his nerves so he started pacing again.
She was late now, she was never late, it didn’t matter where they met she was never late.
His heart pounded in his chest and a million scenarios raced through his mind, she could be dead or captured or hurt or—
She was here.
He could feel her.
He turned to the hangar door and saw her figure shrouded in a gray poncho, she hadn’t seen him yet, he took the moment to run a hand through his buzzed hair and straighten his own poncho trying to look his best for his cyare.
Then she saw him.
The next thing he knew a flurry of gray blue and orange had jumped into his arms making him stumble backwards into a crate of supplies resulting in a crash “‘Soka they’ll hear us!” He tried to sound stern but it was all he could do to keep the tears of relief from his voice.
“Let them.” She murmured nuzzling her face into his neck and holding him tight, he moved his arms to wrap around her waist and pressed his cheek to her lekku.
“I love you so much.”
<><><>
A crash alerted Echo that someone was in the hangar, he didn’t sleep much anymore since Tech’s death and Omega’s capture, he had been up researching Imperial bases Omega could possibly have been taken and had come up with nothing.
An intruder was really not what he needed right now.
He sighed heavily then grabbed his blaster and stalked out to the hangar, it was quiet but that didn’t mean anything.
He scanned the area and finally spotted a couple downed supply crates “Hmm.” He advanced stealthily and squatted down behind the downed crates then whirled around them pointing his blaster at two figures in ponchos. “Hands up!” They turned around and then his brain short circuited.
“Commander Tano!” His wide eyes went from her to the man whose neck she was hanging off of “Rex?!” The former commander launched herself at the former ARC and clapped her hand over his mouth.
“Be quiet!” She hissed, blue eyes wide and lekku darker than he’d ever seen them.
“No one can know she’s here.” Rex whispered, Echo nodded and Ahsoka cautiously released him.
“You-you’re alive!” He laughed in disbelief
“It takes more than a Sith to kill me.” She smirked moving back to Rex’s side and then it clicked in Echo’s head.
Commander Tano had been kissing Captain Rex!
“Wait….you two……..” His eyes went wide again and the two of them sighed
“Yes.” Rex rubbed both hands down his face
“Since whe—“
“Since Mandalore.” Ahsoka said intertwining her arm with his making the captain turn a light shade of pink.
He wasn’t sure how to react to this.
“I also have some news,” Ahsoka said looking up at Rex and Echo panicked.
“I’m an uncle!!!
“WHAT?!?!”
“NO! I have a lead on Ventress!”
#rexsoka monthly#rexsoka#captain rex#captain rex x ahsoka tano#ahsoka tano#fluff#fic#everyone is prob gonna do a smut fic so I thought I’d do fluff#also I can’t write smut#they’ll hear you/us
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Hi, how are you? Hope all is well) Can you please write "Where have you been" with Anakin and a very very depressed and sad Obi?
Of course!
From this various prompts list.
I admit I wasn’t sure exactly which angle you were hoping for, but this is the one my brain liked, so here we are.
_
Anakin’s hand shook slightly as he ran the cloth over the glass mug, turning it in his hands. Water beaded up in the wake of his first attempt, so he went back again a little slower, making sure he left no smudges behind. Then he carefully placed it in the cabinet where it belonged, each shelf lined with different mugs, most of them glass, a few of them seemingly random — porcelain, wood, something that looked like clay, a deep red crystalline substance.
Anakin knew that the ones that weren’t glass had all, once, belonged to Qui-Gon.
They were used rarely. Carefully. Cherished like treasures.
The rest, the glass, those were Obi-Wan’s.
He liked the perfection of glass, its transparency, the way he could watch the teas he brewed and steeped changing, colors swirling and fading beneath his fingers.
Anakin found them difficult to maintain and hard to clean.
His hand shook again, and he quickly put down the towel and set aside the next mug, turning away from the still untidy kitchen.
His gloved metal hand raked through his hair.
It was late.
It was very late.
He walked to the window and brushed aside the curtain with one hand, confronted first with his own ghostly reflection, and then focusing on the view outside. It was pouring down rain. A rare enough occurrence here on Coruscant, and tonight, of all nights, when Obi-Wan could be out there.
He could be anywhere.
Anakin didn’t know.
Obi-Wan had been missing for twenty-nine hours.
He had walked out of their shared quarters while Anakin was visiting Padmé, sometime in the early evening yesterday, leaving his cloak behind, leaving his lightsaber behind.
And then he was gone.
Anakin had searched all the usual places. He’d reached out to Dex, and alerted Mace Windu and Healer Che, and sent Ahsoka to check with the crèche and Initiates dorm in case he was there playing with and teaching the little ones. He’d contacted Bail and Padmé, and gained permission after the twelve hour mark to examine the security holos.
There was nothing.
It was as if Obi-Wan Kenobi had stepped over the threshold of their door and just fallen out of existence.
Anakin watched rain lash against the window, scattering his pale reflection into twisted fragments, and tried to remind himself that he had already been searching for twenty-five hours straight. That he hadn’t slept or eaten. That Master Koon had forbidden him from going out into the storm to search, when they already had rested and armored troopers doing a steady sweep of the Temple perimeter, even when they didn’t know if Obi-Wan had actually left the grounds.
The Temple was massive.
He could be hiding in an unused wing, or in the depths of the dustiest levels, or in the back of the Archives, or the towers.
No, not the Archives. Master Nu had already searched there and that woman would never miss so much as a hair out of place in her domain, much less a High Councilor.
Anakin had heard Master Mundi making noises about a possible trap or an abduction.
And while that was bad — nightmarish — to contemplate, Anakin had his own fears, and they felt much more realistic, much too close for comfort.
Anakin flung himself down on the sofa with his head in his hands and tried not to admit that he was frightened.
He had seen Obi-Wan like this before. Back when they were a new partnership and Qui-Gon was dead but there was still so much of him living in the Temple, like the mugs, one still the on the countertop with a faint imprint of his lips staining the rim, or his spare cloaks and boots, and the trinkets and potted plants that filled every available space. And Obi-Wan had...
Well. Whenever he thought Anakin wasn’t paying attention, he was so quiet. He barely slept for days and then slept too much. He hardly ate and then ate random things at random times. He hardly smiled.
He wandered off.
Alone.
The worst time had been when Anakin was six months in to his apprenticeship. He had woken up with a terribly bad feeling to find his Master missing from his bed, and with the unerring instinct of a worried child, he had shot off in search of Master Yoda, who had quietly raised the alarm amongst the older Masters. It was Master Windu who had found Obi-Wan, quiet and shrunken and apathetic, concealed in one of the many gardens, letting the life of the garden conceal his dimming force signature from view.
Anakin had clung to him like he was about to disappear, and Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed to really process that he was there...
Eventually he had pulled out of it. Anakin didn’t know how.
But this...
Anakin had been worried since Geonosis that he would lose his Master to death on the battlefield. Then there had been Ventress and Jabiim and Grievous and Dooku and Maul — Maul — and suddenly it felt like Obi-Wan was never safe. The war and his enemies chased him everywhere.
But Obi-Wan had lost friends and peers and younglings he had once taught or cradled in his arms when they were so very small, and his Master’s murderer had come back like a resurrected demon to plague him, to threaten his life and sanity and everyone he loved — and Satine had already paid with her life.
Others might.
And when Anakin had come racing back home from 500 Republica when he’d heard the news, it was already too late, and Obi-Wan had gone off all alone stars knew where.
That was enough.
Anakin leapt to his feet, his body trembling with fear and nausea, determined to ignore orders.
Damn their kindness and responsibility, damn the fact that he’d probably only get soaked and miserable, he was going out searching again.
Anakin strode towards the door on shaking legs.
It swung open before he neared it, and there was Obi-Wan.
Anakin gaped at him.
Obi-Wan stared blankly back. “...Anakin?”
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathed, staring at him, taking him in. He was without his cloak and lightsaber, as he had known he would be, and was soaking wet — completely sopping, as if he had swum in a lake rather than wandered about in a rainstorm.
“Obi-Wan,” he said again, his voice strained. “Where have you been?”
His Master continued to look blank. “I went out.”
“You went out? You’ve been gone for well over a day!” Anakin cried out. “Where have you been?”
Obi-Wan shrank away from the shouting. His blue eyes flickered around the room as if looking for an answer, or perhaps an escape, and still his expression was utterly detached. “I... I don’t know, really. Here and there.”
A pause.
“Was I really gone for so long?” he asked. He sounded distantly, disinterestedly bewildered, and Anakin broke.
“Yes!” he shouted, his face screwed up in anger, in an attempt to hold back childish tears. “Yes you have! You disappeared! There are people looking for you, and the Council was worried you’d been taken, and I was so— I was — so — I— you can’t do that to me, Obi-Wan, please, I was losing my mind!”
Obi-Wan’s blank expression finally shifted.
A look of confusion and worry built behind the vague blue eyes, and Anakin launched himself at his friend like he had all those years ago, locking his limbs around him in a fierce hug.
For a long moment it was like hugging a statue. A very cold, very wet statue that shivered ever so slightly.
But Anakin held on, determined to keep Obi-Wan right here, to keep him safe and warm, to make him understand that he was needed, that he could also rest, that it would all be okay if he just stayed. Stayed like he had before. His tunics began to absorb some of the icy moisture coming off his Master but he kept holding on, his face buried in Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
And slowly, Obi-Wan came to life.
His hands inched upwards to rest against his Padawan’s back, and he tilted his head so that he was leaning against Anakin’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled. “I had no idea you’d be so concerned.”
“I wasn’t concerned, you absolute idiot, I was scared,” Anakin hissed, the confession both bitter and relieving on his lips. “How would you feel if I vanished with no word? For thirty hours?”
A long silence.
“Well,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, “I would be impressed with Padmé for not getting bored of you long before that.”
There was a dead silence.
Then a spluttered, incredulous laugh, and it took Anakin a moment to realize it was he who was laughing. His shoulders shook with it, with shock at the revelation of what Obi-Wan knew, that he wasn’t angry about it, that he was cracking stupid, mean, dumb jokes about it when Anakin was trying to be mad at him.
Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, and Anakin laughed harder, delighted that his friend was smiling, if only a little.
“You’re not off the hook you know,” he mumbled, guiding Obi-Wan to his rooms, planning on forcing him to take a hot shower and drink warm tea and maybe pull out one of Qui-Gon’s old cloaks, because that always helped.
“Neither are you,” Obi-Wan mumbled back, and squeezed his hand every so briefly.
~
When Plo Koon dropped by to check on Anakin, very early the next morning, he found him sleeping soundly on a chair, snoring quietly, his feet propped on the arm of the sofa, where Obi-Wan was fast asleep with an old cloak that was far too large for him draped over his body.
It was easy to forgive them to forgetting to inform the Guard to call off the search.
Mace could pretend to yell at them during their next Council meeting, during which, he was sure, the two friends would stand side by side, mischief in their eyes.
~
#star wars fic#my writing#prompt fill#star wars#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#obi wan and anakin#qui gon jinn#master & padawan#more hugs needed#tw depression#tw disassociation#angst and fluff#everyone loves obi wan#literally everyone#mace pretends to be cranky with them but mostly he’s just#amused#and tired
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Do you have any WIPs/what-ifs about Tae? The Alpha/Tae fic makes me combust and Fives/Tae from an older fic you have makes me want to cry they're so sweet.
1. Alpha/Tae - Alpha ends up captured by Ventress, but manages to escape from the laboratory where he's being held, only to trip over a shallow grave in the woods behind the base. Realizing that the guy buried there is actually still alive, Alpha digs him free, hoping for an ally to help him escape, and somehow ends up with a Jedi who's so thoroughly enmeshed with the Force that sometimes he seems more spirit than Human. Tae just wants to stop coming back to life, or at the very least to understand why he can't stay dead.
2. Echo/Tae - When he and the rest of the Padawan Pack are Knighted after surviving Jabiim, Tae expects to get tossed onto the front under the command of a more experienced Jedi. He definitely doesn't expect a commander who's fresh out of ARC training, or a mission to hunt down Grievous.
3. Savage/Tae - Tae knows that everything depends on him not blowing his cover, or Nico's, and not letting anyone know he, the rest of the Padawan Pack, and the nomadic Masters are still alive while they work from the shadows to bring down the Sith Lord. Still, when he runs face-first into someone who's clearly being mind-controlled, he can't not help.
4. Tae/Fox - During one of his and Nico's rare visits to Coruscant, Tae steps in to shield one of the Guard from an irate senator, and Fox notices. Months later, presumed dead, with a direct link to Palpatine's mind and too much power in his head, Tae all but trips over the same guard again. For Fox, it's the return of the only Jedi he's ever thought of as his, so of course he's going to hide Tae away from danger. It's just logical.
5. Alpha/Tae - Someone probably thought that it was a good idea to pair up an incredibly experienced clone and a new Knight. Tae is absolutely convinced that it was someone with a grudge against Nico, because deciding that he and Alpha should the GAR's newest extraction unit is clearly a sign of malice or insanity. Maybe both.
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Omg! Dookus padawan au is fabulous! I love it! Although now im curious about how melida daan would go with a more confident obi and a master whos supportive of him and listens
(i originally planned this to be a dramatic harrowing recounting of obi’s time on Melida/Daan, but it did not turn out like that ಥ_ಥ
thank you for enabling me with this au, anon, i love it so much and i somehow don’t write little-shit-obi nearly as much as i should. i hope this satisfies! ( ˘ ³˘) bonus nield ‘cause he’s dead in dha kar’ta and i got big sad about it)
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"Obi-Wan, did you fuck the Mand'alor."
Obi-Wan grins at Nield from the cell across from him, sitting in half-lotus like any proper Jedi on a routine kidnapping, and Jango sighs in the next cell over.
"You overestimate how much either of us would like that," Obi-Wan chirps, even though they all know that's not really what Nield is asking.
And he makes his feelings about that clear, leveling Obi-Wan with an unimpressed deadpan that Obi-Wan really doesn't think is warranted. "Is this what you thought I meant when I told you to lay low?" he asks gruffly. "Become the youngest Jedi Master in two centuries and shack up with another Anti-Republic System's leader?"
Jango slants a look at him. "What do you mean 'another'?"
"Well, technically, Nield, I never shacked up with you either," Obi-Wan reasons. "And you were only governor for about three days."
"That still counts!"
"De'jate werda, this is about the Young?"
"Language, dear," Obi-Wan chides blandly, and Jango throws his stale roll at him through the bars; it misses him by a foot anyways. "But yes, I'm afraid so. I did tell you the Daan regularly kidnap me for ransom from the Jedi, didn't I?"
Grumbling, Jango flops against the back wall to scowl. "I was under the impression they had stopped after your Cerasi renamed the planet."
"They did," Nield pipes up, poking at his own inedible roll. "Since I'm here, it probably still does have to do with the leaders of Tahl, but why they nabbed your boyfriend is beyond me."
Jango rolls his eyes. "Probably because I was with him when they grabbed him."
"Don't sound so put-upon, we hadn't seen each other in months." Aside from a single holocall before Obi-Wan had gone undercover with a Mid-Rim diplomatic convoy, both he and Jango had been too busy to take the time off for even a quick visit, and they'd had all of twenty minutes together before their kidnappers had broken into Jango's apartment on Coruscant. They had been in the middle of dinner and everything, and Obi-Wan mourns the tiingilar left on their table.
Though, he supposes, he had made it with Rodian chillies instead of Mandalorian ones just to kark with Jango, so Maker knows if it had even been edible.
Snorting, Nield runs his hands through his hair and leans as far over as he can to look down the halls of their cellblock, as if he and Jango hadn't already done that. "I imagine you haven't broken out yet because you're the only one of us in cuffs?"
Obi-Wan helpfully raises his bound hands to show him the new-fangled force-suppressing manacles that have become more popular over the last few years, what with the sudden spike in number of Jedi. "I’ve never seen them before," he offers. "They're not nearly as strong as Ventress' collar, but I'm afraid I'm of no use to you unless we get them off."
Nield sighs. "I said to lay low, Kenobi. You were the one to bag Ventress?"
"I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, my dear: she rather forced my hand."
"No, no, we're not glossing over this again," Jango growls, getting to his feet to lean on his bars so he can glare at the both of them. "Why'd you tell him to lay low? When did you tell him to lay low?"
“I’ve been telling him for years!”
“But especially since the last attempt on Cerasi’s life.”
“Ner ca’tra,” Jango sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Do you have a bounty on you again?”
Nield waves emphatically, as if finally proven right. “‘Again’! What does he mean ‘again’, Obi-Wan?”
Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan knows it’s not nearly as bad as they’re both making it out to be. “To my knowledge, no, I don’t think I currently have a bounty out on my head, and Neild, it would only be the second time.” He unfolds himself and pushes upright, stretching his legs before sticking his bound hands through the bars. “Now, if you two would stop nagging, I need you to try shorting out the locking mechanism with your water cups.”
Jango sighs but still moves to grab the single cup of water that had been in the cells when they arrived; Nield stays at his door and scowls. “You’re not sure if it’ll work?”
Obi-Wan raises a brow. “No, I’m actually quite confident it will: Quinlan and I have escaped the Daan twice like this. I just wasn’t sure if your arms would reach.”
“Ha ha,” Jango drawls, sticking his own arms out to try and reach across the narrow walkway between their lines of cells. “Was that before or after you liberated the planet.”
Nield is absolutely no help, groaning and laughing both as he ducks back to get his own water. “I’ve yet to meet this mysterious Quinlan that you assure me is actually real, but it’s been a decade and a half, ‘Nobi.”
He sniffs in offense, stretching out as far as he can for Jango to tip his cup over his wrists. “He’s doing it on purpose. Quinlan Vos is never more amused than when he is making my life more difficult, so I’m afraid he’s been avoiding you, my dear.”
“A likely story,” Nield snorts, and his significantly-longer arms easily allow him to pour his water directly into the locking mechanism. It starts sparking immediately, Obi-Wan jerking to the side to protect his face while Nield yelps and pulls back.
Feeling the Force rush back into his bones like a splash of tihaar, Obi-Wan easily snaps the cuffs down the centre and kicks open his cell door.
-
Obi-Wan wasn't even supposed to be here, but when he's on his way back from Ilum to finally build a second lightsaber so he can move up from the jar’kai practice ’sabers Master Windu has him using, the Force sidelines him by forcing the Crucible into an emergency landing for the first time since Huyang's creation. A problem with the hyperdrive or something, nothing crucial to replace, something easily fixed once planetside, but just bad enough that they have to land on the nearest planet to fix it.
Where Qui-Gon Jinn just so happens to be already on a mission attempting to rescue another Jedi master. Where there are actual children fighting for control of the capital city.
It takes Obi-Wan less than an hour to find Jinn and the Young, and perhaps an hour more to decide he would be sending Masters Tahl and Jinn back to the Temple without him. Master Yan would understand, it would hardly be the first time he had taken advantage of his master’s absence to do what the Force was telling him to.
He is there a month before Master Yan returns with four Jedi Masters and their padawans, and permission from the Senate to aid the Young until a treaty could be reached. Obi-Wan is frankly too intimidated by his master securing the warrant nobody had managed to in seventy-five years to ask just how he’d done it; and Master Yan doesn’t scold him except to tell him in no uncertain terms that he is never to trust Qui-Gon Jinn’s judgement on anything to do with children.
Luckily his following lecture about the faults of jar’kai and the importance of proper dueling technique is cut off by an ambush from the Melida, and he never gets back around to it even after the Young retake the planet. Obi-Wan is still unsure whether he prefers the three days of sexual education he gets instead, when Cerasi admits she had caught Nield and Obi-Wan kissing in the hall after her election.
-
Yan meets them outside, not looking very surprised to see them simply walking from the brig that had been their home for the last eight hours. Their human kidnappers are cuffed and being processed by a pair of Judiciary Branch clerks Yan had evidently brought with him, which would rather explain why there had been no one to hinder their escape.
Raising a brow, a million questions in the simple gesture, Yan holds out Obi-Wan’s cloak, waiting for him to put it on before giving him his ’sabers as well. “I fear I must apologise, your honor,” he rumbles like the words simultaneously amuse him and burn his mouth. “My former apprentice still has not learned how to keep others safe from his continued imbroglios.”
Jango snorts, accepting one of Obi-Wan’s ’sabers to hold until he can get his blasters back; Nield’s eyes almost bug out of his head. “Do we know what they were after?”
Yan’s lips curl almost-mockingly. “A trade agreement, I believe. President Cerasi and the Delegates of Tahl had already turned them away, so they thought to strong-arm the Melidaan system instead.”
“So you weren’t even a political prisoner,” Obi-Wan teases a Nield already burying his face in his hands, “just a familial hostage, my dear.”
“Shut him up before I do,” Nield tells Jango.
Who simply smirks and holds up his hands. “You overestimate how much control I have over anything he does.”
“Maker, he really does have you wrapped around his finger.”
“To be fair, I’ve known Jango far more intimately.”
“I’m leaving,” Nield announces, spinning on heel to stalk towards the rescue cruiser from Tahl despite knowing Obi-Wan simply means he’s never had visions of Nield, even as far back as the Civil War.
Jango leans over and surreptitiously whispers, "Was Nield the bad wall-makeout?"
"Maker, he was horrible, my dear."
Mando’a: Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. "De'jate werda" — "By the Great Darkness", slang from Concord Dawn, used as an expletive similar to "Christ!" or "Good lord." tiingilar — Mandalorian casserole specified to be “blisteringly spicy” ner ca'tra — “my night sky”, intimate term of endearment tihaar — Mandalorian strong clear spirit made from fruit
*also obi is a master earlier ‘cause of his clairvoyance, since i’m subscribing to the “you become a master jedi when you master a part of yourself” version of the master trials in this. anyways.*
#crispy writes#prompt fill#melida/daan au#dooku's padawan au#soft and gay all around#little shit obi is everything and i don't write him enough#prequel trilogy#au#jangobi#jango fett#obi wan kenobi#nield of the young#cerasi of the young#cerasi renamed the planet tahl (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)#and the system to melidaan#cerasi is alive and president and WILL send the entire jedi order to rescue her idiot brothers#yan dooku#i... keep forgetting how to tag my own work
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Unrest (Maul/Reader)- Chapter 1
Star Wars: The Clone Wars Reader Insert
AO3 Link: (Unrest Chapter 1)
Rating: Explicit
Pairing(s): Darth Maul/Reader (Maybe Savage/Reader?)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Tags: Reader-Insert; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Nightsisters (Star Wars); Light Angst; Reader is a Nightsister; Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Summary: Nightsister!Reader is one of few to survive after Dathomir is attacked. Now, reader will work with the presumed dead Sith Lord to get what she wants.
No (y/n). Explicit for future chapters. More tags will be added.
A/N: So, originally I was just going to make a soft maul/reader one shot but here we are also listen, i made some of the nightsister stuff up, but I tried to follow the lore for the most part lmao
---
The cauldron you worked in was filled with the water of life, simmering pleasantly and filling the small tent with a calm steam. You dropped lavender buds and dried sage leaves into the pot, stirring the waters with a languid motion of your hand.
A pinch of bone ash, witch hazel, and ground shells dissolved, and changed the color of the steam, when added. It shifted from white to a gentle, but vibrant, green. It was such a natural color that reminded you of lush green forests, full of life.
The final addition was flower petals of various shapes and colors, which all wilted, giving their life as they touched the water. It was your favorite smell.
“Here, sister,” You spoke calmly, stretching out your hand to the pale woman sitting on a pelt-covered seat, “Let me see.”
She lifted her hand to rest in yours comfortably, and you examined her forearm. You carefully unwrapped the blood-stained fabric, revealing a deep wound. You hummed quietly, wiping the dirt and blood away with a clean, warm clothe.
“Rest, now,” You reassured, “You’ll feel no pain.”
With a bowl carved from a large animal bone, you collected some water, holding your sister’s arm over the cauldron. You poured the water over her wound, and it turned red with blood. You collected more water and continued to wash the wound out. As the blood dripped into the cauldron below, it evaporated into nothing.
Slowly, the flesh began to reconnect, sinew and tissue knitting itself back together. You spoke an ancient prayer, the foreign language coming to you easily as you focused. You poured your energy and deep love of your sisters into the life-giving water that cleansed her.
Once the wound was nothing but a thin scar, you dried her arm with a clean cloth, before dressing it in calendula-treated wrappings, “You live to fight another day, Ilyana.” You held her hand for another moment, before gently placing it in her own lap.
She smiled softly, “Thank you, my dear sister.” She stood, before grabbing your shoulders and pressing her forehead to yours for a moment of tenderness.
The drying herbs hanging from string, strewn around your fragrant tent swayed as Ilyana left.
Not moments later, Mother Talzin ducked through the entrance. The bones and trinkets you had hung clattered together. An omen, perhaps.
“Mother,” You bowed your head slightly, rearranging the items on your table, “How can I help you?”
Mother Talzin always seemed to know something no one else did. Nothing ever surprised her. “My sweetest child,” She pressed a thin, cold hand against your cheek, “There’s something I must ask of you. Something you need to remember.”
Your heart swelled at the thought of being a part of some larger plan, “I will do anything you ask of me, mother.” You looked up dutifully, yet your brows still furrowed, and something deep in the back of your head felt wary.
“You will be called upon soon,” Her hand dropped from your face, resting it over one of the animal skulls on the table, “To undertake a very important task.”
“Of course,” You nodded your head, eager to please, “What is it that I must do?”
Talzin was quiet for a minute, looking around your small tent. You chose not to live in the stone buildings of the fortress, instead wanting to feel the magicks of the soil against your feet. Not only were you a potent healer, but a fierce warrior, as well. Talzin had done well with you, and you could tell she was proud of her work.
As the silence began to sow doubt deep within you, there was suddenly a commotion outside. You and Talzin rushed out to see what it was.
“Sisters!” Yansu was running through the fortress gates, nearly tripping over herself, “We are being attacked! We-,” A single blaster shot brought her to her knees, as all the sisters ran to her aid.
You looked to Mother Talzin, trying to figure out what was happening. Her face told you that she was not expecting this either. You took this as your time to run to your sister’s side. You drew your weapons.
“Slip into the shadows, sisters,” Ventress instructed, pulling up her hood, “We must fight.”
You all look at each other for only a moment, before you began running into the dark forest, trying to get around the approaching enemy.
It was all droids, you noticed, your heart beating in your ears, and there were so many of them.
At first, they didn’t notice any of you slipping past them, until the first strike. Your sisters began viciously slashing at anything that approached them. You dug your feet into the soil, drawing from the magick within your planet, blocking laser blasts and other dangers.
The first sister to fall was Ilyana. She took down quite a few droids though, before falling. Your heart pulled at you to run to her side as she died, but you were surrounded.
Simple battle droids were no match for you and most of your sisters, using a combination of magick and blades. Up in the trees, two of them used arrows made of light, raining down on the droids, out of sight.
But slowly, one by one, your sisters fell, until it was just you and Ventress.
Ventress grabs you from behind, pulling you away and back into the shadows, “Sister if we stay, we will die. We must leave here.” She spoke with such urgency, desperate to save what was left, realizing the battle was lost.
“I must return to Mother Talzin,” You looked deep into her eyes, and you felt your heart drop, “Go, Asajj. Save yourself so that you may avenge our fallen sisters.”
Not another word was shared between the two of you, just meaningful glances, before parting ways.
You ran as fast and as quietly as you could, taking advantage of the deep red shade of your planet. Unsure of exactly where you were going, you let your feet carry you in the direction that felt right.
“Child, you must go now,” Mother Talzin spoke urgently as you ran to her. She was in your tent, which now just smelled like old swamp water, “You must lie in wait, for someone once thought dead. Return here, only once the enemy is gone.”
You didn’t dare speak right now, as she swirled dark things in the cauldron. You started collecting some of your more important belongings.
“You must wait for an agent of darkness and chaos that will bring Dooku to his knees. Once he arrives, I will return to you.”
She continued mixing the now black water, and you stared down into it, “Yes, Mother.”
“Now go, child. Run.”
---
You spent the first four days in a cold, dark cave, wrapped in black robes. You kept no fire, and you didn’t eat. Not until you were sure the enemy had left.
After a day’s journey back to the fortress, you were sure you were alone, only the shells of dead droids left behind.
The fortress was in ruins. Stone had crumbled under blaster fire and abuse.
All that was left of your tent was your cauldron, and a few animal bones. Even the pelts you had hoped to wrap yourself in had been burned to soot.
Collecting all you could, you found a small alcove, where a tower had fallen, creating a nice camp area. It was the most stable structure with a roof and would have to do. So, you set up your things and started a fire to cook the small womprats you had hunted on your long trip.
Your mother had instructed you to wait, and so you did. All alone.
Alone with the visions of your sisters’ deaths and the biting chill that whipped around you in the evening.
How weak you felt, unable to protect your sisters, who now lay dead in the dark forests surrounding you. It was pitiful, you decided every night, as you returned to the sparse camp you had built yourself.
Unwilling to disobey your revered Mother, you scouted and hunted at night, as your ancestors had before you. Each night, you would seek out the body of one of your sisters, to prepare them for their burial. You burned an offering to the Winged Goddess of any herbs you could find for each body as you worked. Then, you ground bones and buried the dust in the dirt for the Fanged God.
Unfortunately, most of the living things around you had been destroyed, even the grass and plants. It terrified you deeply to think of what could have done this.
You tried to keep track of the days that went by. Eventually you started thinking your thoughts aloud, just to remember what a person’s voice sounded like. You think it might have been two months that you waited alone.
Until one day, a ship landed in the distance. You put your fire out with a swish of your hand, dousing the smoldering ash to try and hide the smoke.
You pulled your hair back, frustrated at how wild it had grown, before pulling your hood and face cover up.
Deciding you needed to see who was on this ship for yourself, you started into the forest of thick trees with large fruits hanging down, hiding yourself behind the trunks as you walked on. As you got closer and closer, you could feel a dark energy pulling you forward.
It felt feral and terrified. A chill ran through you, and you swallowed nervously, but continued on, until you stood at the edge of the forest, watching.
It was a pale brown Zabrak that deboarded the ship, alone. But you knew he wasn’t the one filling you with an undefined dread.
You stared in silence as he looked around. He seemed annoyed and desperate.
Peering around the tree a bit more, you couldn’t help but notice how large he was. When you thought about it, you did remember hearing some of your sisters talking about a ritual performed on a man. A man named Savage, no less.
You were staring at him when his eyes met yours. He scowled, “Who are you? Show yourself.”
Sheathing your weapons, you pulled your hood down, and then your face covering. It felt weird hearing another person’s voice. The movement of his lips and face was almost entrancing.
You raised your hands cautiously, making slow and calm movements, “Who sent you?” You looked around, scanning your surroundings.
His eyes grew dark with frustration, and he started walking towards you.
Before he got far, a pale hand placed itself firmly on the large man’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, “Savage, you’ve returned. Where is your brother?”
Your heart instantly warmed when you heard her voice, knowing that the comfort of your mother had returned after such loneliness. Your ragged breathing instantly smoothed.
“He’s…,” Savage took a breath, “He’s still on the ship. He is broken, Talzin.”
“Hm,” She grinned, turning to walk onto the ship, “Well, we must fix him then.”
You felt so much fear coming from inside the ship. You didn’t know what was happening, but when Talzin returned, she looked at you, “Come, sister, I will need your help.”
Talzin started walking back towards the ruined fortress, and you watched her, your legs unmoving. Savage was looking at the ship.
A green orb gently floated out of the ship, followed by red hands, reaching for it.
Then, the rest of the creature followed. You couldn’t help but stare in a confusing mix of emotions.
A red and black Zabrak stood taller than even Savage. His face was gaunt and sallow, with deep-set, blood shot eyes. The horns around his head were overgrown and brittle, much like his nails reaching out. He would have been skinny, if not for the large apparatus that was attached to his waist. Scrap metal formed a shaky thorax, with legs that stabbed into the dirt beneath them.
You gulped, watching him as he passed by. When he stopped, turning his deep, fiery gaze upon you, your heart nearly stopped.
He scowled, looking down at you with a wildness unlike any you had ever seen.
“Come, brother.” Savage spoke, pulling the man’s attention from you, before his eyes caught the glowing orb once again, catching up to it.
You watched as the two brothers walked on, and you blinked a few times before following after them.
---
Mother Talzin had laid the man flat on a solid rock, tapping his forehead with the magick that dwelled beneath her fingertips, until his eyes closed.
She calls your name sternly, “Hold your hands here.” Grasping your hands, Talzin guides you to hold either side of the man’s head, “You need to use your healing touch, my child.”
Nodding, you prepare yourself. You dig your bare heels into the dirt, drawing power from the planet’s core and the waters of life that flowed beneath the surface.
Talzin started chanting, and the air around you moved. All of a sudden, you couldn’t breathe. When you tried to move your hands, your muscles tensed and froze where they were.
Flashes of pain and hatred flooded your head. You felt like you were on fire, and that you were no longer attached to your own body. It was as if you had been cut in half, and were in so much pain, but couldn’t will yourself to die.
The hatred and anger bubbling below your skin was unbearable, and you felt like you needed to run, but your legs wouldn’t budge.
In a second, the rage was replaced with loneliness. It felt vaguely familiar, but worse than you could ever imagine. Then, there was nothing but fear left to feel. You felt yourself shaking and your heart beat so fast you thought your chest would burst.
Then you were back in your own body, staring down at a terrifying man, your hands trembling. You had broken into a cold sweat that dripped down the back of your neck, making you shudder.
Looking up towards Savage, the man no longer had a haphazardly built lower half, but two well-formed cybernetic legs made of sleek, black metal.
When you lowered your gaze back down to the man’s face, his eyes were open, staring up at you with a newfound anger in his eyes.
Your hands were still on the sides of his head, and you frowned. The only words that came to mind were a whispered, “Darth Maul?”
Mother Talzin pulled you away by the shoulders, “Yes, child. You are now his.” She pulled you into a hug. As far as you knew, you were her only remaining daughter, “You will serve him as you have served me. Loyally and obediently. This is your task, child.”
And with that, Talzin faded into a green mist, evaporating in your arms.
Behind you, you heard thick metal land on the ground.
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Worse Odds
Originally posted October 8, 2020
Summary: Alpha-17 died with the Force collapsing his trachea, the scalpel he'd managed to grab buried too deep in Ventress' gut for her to survive long after him. It was not necessarily a good death, but it was a death he couldn't regret.
He, of course, hadn't expected to wake up.
Details: Time Travel AU. Written for kj_feybarn.
CW: torture, major character death
xxxxxx
Alpha-17 died with the Force collapsing his trachea, the scalpel he'd managed to grab buried too deep in Ventress' gut for her to survive long after him. It was not necessarily a good death, but it was a death he couldn't regret.
His last moments were still fantasies of the could-have-beens that he'd never know: the lips he’d never been brave enough to kiss, the hands he’d never been able to hold outside of hospital tents. Then they were of his last good memories: of Obi-Wan's calloused hand gently resting on his forehead, his bright eyes wide with concern as he ordered him to medical treatment on Coruscant, having to use all of his authority to get some clone that sort of attention.
He, of course, hadn't expected to wake up.
Battered, tired, in just his blacks, but alive. Not a single trace of the Force choke that had killed him hindering his throat.
He was too paranoid to try his comm, just stole a poncho off a passed out drunk in an alley or whatever sand drenched backwater he was on and did his best to blend in, get a feel for things.
A lot could happen in a short period of time and he had no idea how long he'd been out of it or why he'd been dumped like he was in this particular town.
First, he stole a blaster to hide under his poncho, a vibroknife to sheath in his boot. Then, he looked for information, figuring credits would be his next stop when he figured out what section of the galaxy he was even in.
Apparently, which side of the war the planet was on wouldn't be an issue.
Unless he was hallucinating, but it was a kriffing weird thing to hallucinate ending up on Tatooine nearly a decade before he’d been decanted, even for him.
***
7938 CRC was a weird year, Alpha-17 decided.
All the major battles came before or after it, with the only conflict of note (and conflicts were what most of his original education was on) the ongoing civil war in the Mandalore Sector. What he could find on the Holonet (thankfully it hadn’t evolved much in the years before the war), only confirmed that...it was a boring year.
The sort of boring Alpha-17 might have talked about as blissful, when he was only imagining it. But he wasn’t going to get to enjoy it: This would be the year his General was there in the midst of Mandalore’s conflict, sniffing after the Duchess.
His General, who was definitely alive, and as well as he could probably be, considering. A Padawan, of all things, some shiny running around after a General who by all reports was worse than Kenobi and Skywalker put together.
Thinking of that, thinking of Mandalore...gave him an idea.
First he just needed to steal enough credits and a ship to get off Skywalker’s least favorite dustball.
***
He staked out Galidraan for two months before the hit happened--the governor dead, some suit of armor he was keeping in his hideous mansion the only thing missing. Easy in, easy out from the home of a man who didn't think he had many enemies left.
Jango left a trail, not enough for the useless security guards to find, but more than enough for someone a better, more experienced Jango had taught. He followed him straight back the clunker he was flying and got the drop on him with pathetic ease--two high powered stun bolts in just the right joint of the beskar'gam he'd hastily shoved on and Fett was down for the count.
The first thing Alpha-17 did was strip him, the second thing he did was tie him up in a way he'd have to seriously injure himself to get out of. Then, he studied the younger Jango Fett, taking a moment to really think through what he was doing.
They were nearly the same age--well, the same physical age. Jango had less muscle, still gaining it back from his time as a slave if the rumor mill among the Cuy'val Dar was to be trusted. Alpha-17 had more scars, but who wouldn't expect Jango to come out of the osik he went through with some permanent reminders?
In the months since Alpha-17 had come back, his hair had grown out from the military regulation cut, but it looked like Jango had already trimmed his own hair back, so that was no issue. All he needed to do was talk for a little while, let Alpha-17 learn him.
When Jango woke up, that's exactly what he did.
No doubt at least part of it was connected to that feral look in his eyes, that doubt that maybe all the spice he'd been forced to work with had long-term effects and he was hallucinating someone that looked like him, sounded like him (picked up more and more of his accent and mannerisms as the hours went on).
Eventually, dehydration and sleep deprivation added to that, and it seemed like he thought Alpha-17 was some spirit sent from the Manda to punish him for some perceived sins. Towards the end, he could only mutter apologies to Jaster and a string of others in choked out Mando’a, rung out of tears.
By the time Alpha-17 put a bolt right between his template's eyes, he felt his new knowledge and what he'd already known would serve him more than enough. And any guilt he might have felt had disappeared when he realized he was doing little more than putting a rabid striil down.
He spaced the body and, despite Manda'yaim and Obi-Wan pulling at his heart, headed to Concord Dawn.
***
Rounding up the Haat Mando'ade went like this:
Find some of the Cuy'val Dar he knew had been members or connected to members,
Pretend to be Fett recovered from years of slavery,
See who would answer their Mand'alor's call.
Convincing them he was still worth following was even easier and began and ended with Tor Vizsla beheaded with his own lightsaber (sparring with Obi-Wan always had a tendency to pay off in the least expected ways). Some choice words to Death Watch--that they'd ever given Jango a problem made his estimates of the man go even further down--had them forgetting why they ever had an issue with Fett in the first place.
He’d led troops before, but that didn’t have the same weight as this--of watching Mandalorians kneeling before him, rededicating themselves to the Resol’nare, declaring him (well, Jango Fett, but that was who he was now) the Mand’alor.
As a lesser man, he might have let it go to his head. Instead, he stayed all-business, focusing on plotting with the best of his new soldiers to take back Manda’yaim--take back the whole kriffing Sector, eventually.
Then finally, finally he could hunt down his General.
***
Alpha-17 was pretending to be Jango Fett, pretending to want peace with the New Mandalorians, pretending to protect Satine Kryze from the Death Watch (even though they were now under his control).
He couldn't even be sincere in his regard for Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, because being nice to a Jedi would be suspicious.
Sometimes he fantasized about drugging Obi-Wan, slitting Kryze's throat, and taking his little General off somewhere no one would find them.
Other times he remembered how wily his General had been and thought of the signs of that he'd already seen in the eighteen year old version of him. He knew the long game was the only one he could play.
“Jango” was not a permanent fixture, he hopped in and out of their lives, ever claiming to be on the trail of Death Watch or some other enemy. He randomized it as much as he could, not wanting to give anything away.
Getting rid of Jinn, and his incessant lectures against attachment, was the first step in this part of the plan. It also proved to be surprisingly difficult, even though he tried every time he reappeared to the group. If Alpha-17 didn't know just how good his shielding was, he'd suspect the Jedi Master knew what he was up to.
Maybe it was the "Living Force" osik he kept going on about to Obi-Wan or maybe it was pure luck, but the man proved difficult to kill.
Alpha-17, though, had faced worse odds.
They’d “split up” during an attack, Jinn and “Jango” making themselves more obvious targets so Obi-Wan could get Satine out of the way. He fought back, of course, the commandos going against them knew the plan (the plan he’d told them--that they had to carefully get rid of the older Jedi and the Duchess, to avoid Republic retaliation, before hitting the New Mandalorians where it would really hurt) and the risks.
He'd fought Force sensitives before, he knew how key distractions were, and mindset.
Over and over as Death Watch shot at them, he thought, "I'm protecting Obi-Wan," with complete sincerity.
As he turned his blaster on Jinn.
As he shot him, again and again, just to be safe.
His smoking body was caught in an explosion soon after, no trace would remain that he'd been very clearly shot in the back at close range.
Obi-Wan had felt the death through his training bond, he didn’t even have to say anything to make that clear. He’d still helped Alpha-17 escape with Satine, deflecting blaster bolts as he covered their backs.
Then he spent a day barely responsive once they were out of danger, moving like some automaton at their directions. The Duchess couldn't handle it, of course, couldn’t handle thinking of one of her protectors as a person with the same sort of feelings as she had, and it fell on Alpha-17 to take care of him.
After two months of knowing him in this time, he decided he could be more forward.
“It’s alright, Ob’ika,” he whispered to him, pulling him into his arms and rocking him as he might have one of his batchmates during a bad growth spurt.
“It’s not, my Master is dead, what am I supposed to do?” Obi-Wan turned his head into Alpha-17’s chest without prompting, clinging onto him like he might disappear, too.
Stroking his hair, Alpha-17 took a moment to catalog all of the moment, to store it away in his near-perfect memory. “You carry on. That’s all you can do, when you lose your family.”
Not that Fett had done much of that, but Obi-Wan didn’t know that. He thought Fett was trying to rebuild, to make a better Mandalore for his people. In this world, or timeline, or whatever Alpha-17 was supposed to call it, no one would ever know Fett for the failure he was.
They went back and forth like that for hours, Alpha-17 murmuring gentle assurances, Obi-Wan soaking them up. He'd wanted to do this dozens of times with his General, but while that exact man would never exist, there was enough of him in this Obi-Wan to satisfy.
With Jinn dead, they were stretched thinner. It was easy enough to get Obi-Wan to leave Satine in "Jango's" care. He couldn’t do anything to her, yet, because if she died under Obi-Wan’s protection, and especially when he wasn’t even there, he’d blame himself.
What Alpha-17 could do was convince Satine that she wanted to stop running around with just a Jedi Padawan as her main source of protection. That she should return to Sundari and her own guards, her own people.
Obi-Wan tried to argue against it, but by that point her mind was set and she was too stubborn to dissuade.
“How can I speak of peace without being willing to live a peaceful life? It looks hypocritical to have you or Fett fighting for me as you do!” Hearing his words come out of her mouth, Alpha-17 had to lock down hard on his shields to keep his amusement from leaking through. “I’m returning to Sundari and taking my rightful place as the leader of Mandalore! I refuse to let Death Watch dictate what I do any longer!”
The explosion during her return speech took out half the palace, all of the other high ranking New Mandalorians with her, and a chunk of the plaza they’d been in. Obi-Wan had been ordered to stay away, for appearances sake, and was sulking on the other side of the city when it happened.
No one could be surprised that the True Mandalorians--who had been speaking out against this from the start--swooped in to provide security that the New Mandalorians clearly weren’t capable of. Or when Jango Fett took control in the sudden power vacuum.
A brief, furious looking mock-campaign later and Death Watch was surrendering to him, convincing even many of the New Mandalorians that perhaps he was the right choice for leader during such uncertain times.
The distraction kept Obi-Wan from suggesting he return to Coruscant. The devastation of the explosion left the Order unclear as to whether Obi-Wan was even still alive (Alpha-17 possibly sent reports that suggested Obi-Wan had perished, for readers expecting a Jedi to have been with Satine, though gave no outright lies).
Alpha-17 was vindicated for all his work when, used to seeking comfort from Alpha-17, Obi-Wan came directly to him first after just a week of trying to deal with his new grief.
“I don’t understand, why didn’t she listen to us?”
“People like Satine...they never really see people like us as equals. We’re servants, no matter how close they seem to let us,” Alpha-17 explained, gentle again, because Obi-Wan always deserved gentle. “With Jinn,” Obi-Wan bit back a helpless noise, “he was an important enough outsider she listened. Once he was gone….”
“I thought I was her friend. How could I be so wrong? I don’t--I don’t know what to believe, anymore.”
Alpha-17 tilted Obi-Wan’s head up, staring into his eyes. “I swear to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I’m your friend.”
His conviction brought on a new round of crying, though he thought it was more from relief than anything else.
Perhaps it was wrong, to kiss away those tears when he held Obi-Wan, to sooth away his grief with pleasure, but it certainly worked.
xxxxxx
Written for Fey in exchange for an absolutely beautiful Codywan fic! I hope this comes even a little close to being that good of a read.
#character: alpha 17#character: obi wan kenobi#ship: alpha 17 & obi wan#character: jango fett#theme: possessive behavior#character: qui gon jinn#character: satine kryze#theme: dark#verse: time travel#theme: mandalore mission
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Star Crossed
What happens when you take a Star Wars obsessed nerd who is getting a graduate degree in Shakespeare Studies and you put her in quarantine with three essays to write for almost two months?
A Star Wars/Shakespeare AU for every one of Shakespeare's plays!
Read on AO3.
All's Well That Ends Well
Kylo as the King and Rey as Helena. Kylo has been stabbed by a lightsaber. Who stabbed him? Totally not Rey, what are you talking about?? Rey offers to heal Kylo with the Force (because that’s apparently a thing you can do?). Kylo doubts she can do it, but Rey offers to make him a deal - either she fails, in which case Kylo can kill her, or she succeeds, in which case she gets to choose her husband. Kylo agrees to this, secretly hoping that if she does manage to cure him that she will choose him as husband and not that annoying Rebel pilot or that ex- Storm Trooper. Rey does manage to heal Kylo, but instead of throwing herself at Kylo, Poe, or Finn, Rey decides she’s a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man and this way none of them can push the issue because she gets to be the one who ultimately chooses who, or if, she marries. Sorry Shakespeare, this play’s super annoying and I am not inflicting most of this plot on my Star Wars babies.
Antony and Cleopatra
Leia as Mark Anthony, Han as Cleopatra. Leia is a very busy, powerful, accomplished leader of the Resistance. Everyone looks up to her and she has lots to do as her Rebel forces battle the Empire. If only Han Solo weren't so damn sexy and distracting…
As You Like It
Ray as Rosiland and Finn as Orlando. After escaping from Jakku, Ray must seek her family in the Forest of D'Qar. Finn, in love with Ray and fleeing the wrath of the new, hostile government, also ends up in the Forest. There, Ray finds her family, learning that family does not begin or end with blood, and learns to find “tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones and good in everything.”
Comedy of Errors
Anakin managed to avoid the temptations of Palpatine but when Palpatine discovers that Padme is pregnant they, with Obi Wan’s help, agree that the children must be kept safe from the Sith Lord. In the wake of Order 66 Padme takes Leia and C-3PO on one ship and Anakin takes Luke and R2-D2 on another. The twins are raised apart but when Luke comes of age, he sets out with R2-D2 to find his twin. Hijinks and hilarity ensue, but in the end Luke and Leia, R2 and 3PO, and Anakin and Padme are all reunited.
Coriolanus
Obi Wan as Ophidius, Palpatine as Menennius, and Anakin as Coriolanus. Palpatine is intent on shaping the warrior Anakin in his political image. Anakin would much rather stab things with his lightsaber and rail against the establishment than put up with politics. Obi Wan and Anakin are gay for eachother.
Cymbeline
Leia is Imogen, Anakin is Cymbeline, Palpatine is Anakin’s evil lover, Palpatine's clone son is Cloten, Han is Posthumus. Leia married Han but Anakin doesn’t approve because Anakin and Palpatine want Leia to marry Palpatine’s clone son. After Han has been kicked out he goes to Jabba’s palace and sends Jabba the Hutt to try to seduce Leia because Jabba tricks Han into betting that Leia won’t betray him. Jabba brings “proof” to Han of Leia’s supposed infidelity and Han sends Chewie as Pisonio to lead Leia to the deserted deserts of Tatooine to kill her. However instead Chewie brings a disguise for Leia to dress up as a boy to keep her safe from Han. Dressed as a boy, Leia gets separated from Chewie and meets Obi Wan (as Belarius) and Luke (as Guiderius/Arviragus). Leia doesn’t know that Luke is her brother and after she falls ill she takes a potion given to Chewie by Palpatine that ends up making her fall into a dead sleep. I can’t be bothered to explain why. Thinking her dead, Obi Wan and Luke plan to bury her until Palpatine’s clone son, dressed as Han and looking for Leia, arrives and, because he is rude, gets his head cut off by Luke, who lays him (headless) next to Leia. When Leia wakes up she thinks that Han is dead and, in great despair, Leia goes off and pledges herself as a page to Tarkin, who is leading the Empire’s fleet against the Hutts. There is a big battle where Luke, Obi Wan, and Han kick ass, and at the end all mistaken identities are revealed, Palpatine dies and confesses his sins (not in that order), Han and Leia discover they were only tricked into thinking they didn’t love each other, and Leia still gets to strangle Jabba. In conclusion, this is a batshit play. Thanks Shakespeare.
Hamlet
Well it’s not Anakin because he doesn’t take any time to ponder anything before killing the people who killed his parent. He just kills them. And not just the men, but the women, and the children too…
Ben Kenobi tells Luke that Vader killed his father. Horrified by this information, Luke sets out across to Galaxy to confront Vader. By act five Luke has stabbed the Emperor through a curtain (thinking him to be Vader), Vader and Luke have both been stabbed with a poisoned lightsaber, General Tarkin has drunk poison intended for Luke, and Princess Leia is knocking on the doors of the death star. With his dying breath Luke tells his school friend Biggs (who Luke is not-so-secretly gay for) that he gives his vote for Leia to run the Galexy after he is dead. At this point Ben Kenobi is beginning to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have lied to Luke about his father after all. Also, R2 and 3PO are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Henry IV, Parts I and II
Han as Hal and Jabba the Hutt as Falstaff. Hanging out with Jabba and his other lowlife friends has given Han a bad reputation. Despite Jabba's insistence that they be partners in petty crime and enjoy all the entertainment and Corilian Rum the credits from their crimes can buy, Han must grow to realize that his friend is holding him back from his true place in the Galaxy and that he ultimately must turn away from his old (large) friend in order to become a General in the Rebel Alliance and to stand by its Princess's side.
Henry V
Jyn and Cassian know, as their small band of brothers lands on the beaches of Scarif, that they are outnumbered ten to one. Nevertheless, as they prepare to head once more unto the breach they are determined to make ten men feel like a hundred. They know that if they are mark’d to die, they are enough to do the Rebellion loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honour. They fight valiantly and are able to bring the Rebellion hope by sending the plans for the Death Star to Princess Leia, but in the end none of them outlive that day, nor come safe home.
Henry VI, Parts I, II, and III
Despite the threats posed by the Clone Wars, the Jedi look above all else to their religion, leaving the path open for their enemies to take from them their power and, ultimately, their lives.
Henry VIII
Obi Wan is Anakin’s first wife and Padme is Ann Bolyn. Anakin cheats on Obi Wan and the Jedi Order with Padem. When the world finds out (youngings’) heads will roll.
Julius Caesar
Snoke, Kylo, and Hux as Caesar, Brutus, and Mark Anthony. Despite his pledged allegiance to Emperor Snok, Kylo turns against his master and stabs him with his lightsaber, inciting a power struggle between Kylo and Hux and some impassioned speeches to the gathered Storm Troopers.
King John
Palpatine as King John, Mace Windu as the Pope, and Anakin as the archbishop (and Hubert). Palpatine, in order to assert his influence over the Jedi and to continue to bring Anakin under his power, insists that Anakin be appointed to the Jedi Council. Mace Windu is furious that Palpatine would interfere in this way and attempts to “excommunicate” him from the Republic. Anakin turns on Mace Windu and the Jedi Order, and Palpatine sends him to the Jedi Temple to kill the younglings (specifically a youngling named Arthur). However, when actually faced with the task Anakin is unable to do so. Instead he lies to Palpatine and tells him the younglings have been killed.
King Lear
Lear/Cordelia as Vader/Luke. Vader is slightly (maybe a lot) crazy and angry and he tries to give his son, Luke, part of the Galaxy, providing Luke pledges his allegiance to Vader and the Dark Side of the Force. Luke is not having it so Vader cuts Luke’s hand off. In the end, after some battles, Vader realizes Luke is in the right just in time to die.
Love's Labour's Lost
By swearing off attachments and secluding themselves in their Temple, the Jedi believe they will better be able to learn from and serve the Force. But then Qui-Gon Jinn meets Shmi Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi meets Satine Kryze, Ahsoka Tano meets Lux Bonteri, and Anakin Skywalker meets Padme Amidala. Together they learn that attachments are not so easily avoided.
Macbeth
The Nightsisters, led by Mother Talzin, predict greatness for Darth Maul. In fact, when he is apprenticed to Sidious, Talzin predicts that Maul will become the most powerful Sith Lord and that he will soon become the master, no longer the apprentice. Fueled by this promised power, Maul, encouraged by his wife Lady Ventress, plans to kill Sidious. However, he is disturbed by Talzin's predictions that while he may become more powerful than even Sidious, it is Sidious's future apprentice, Darth Vader, who’s children will defeat the power of the Dark Side. Thinking himself invincible thanks to Mother Talzin's predictions he sees no reason to fear the two Jedi who arrive at the Naboo palace of Dunsinane in a ship called the Birnam Wood.
Measure for Measure
With the Empire not giving a fuck about the Outer Rims, Jabba is left to his own devices on Tatooine. When Jabba captures Luke and tries to feed him to his pet Rancor, Jabba proposes a deal with Leia that if she stays with him he will let Luke go. Already feeling that she is married to the Rebellion, Leia is torn between her love for the Alliance and her love for Luke. Ultimately Leia decides she’s better off strangling Jabba while Luke blows up his ship. Even though this isn’t what Mariana actuall does in the script it’s what she should do becasue fuck the patriarchy.
Merchant of Venice
In a last-ditch attempt to save the Republic she loves, Padme comes before the senate and reminds them that 'the quality of mercy is not strained'. She advises them that mercy 'is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned Emperor better than his robe: his lightsaber shows the force of temporal power, but mercy is above the lightsaber's sway". Her impassioned speech reminds the senate to see past the blood lust fueled by Palpatine and the Clone Wars and Padme single handedly manages to avoid the death of democracy to thunderous applause.
Merry Wives of Windsor
Jabba the Hutt is Falstaff. That’s all.
Midsummer Night's Dream
Finn and Poe, both thinking they are in love with Ray, follow Ray to a forest planet. Rose, in love with Poe, follows him. In the forest R2-D2 and his young companion BB8 use trickery and (Force) magic to help the humans sort out this love triangle mess (yes, this does make C-3PO Titania). Finn and Poe realize that they are actually in love with each other and Ray reaffirms that she is a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man. Rose gets left in the woods because J.J. Abrams forgets about her.
Much Ado about Nothing
Leia/Han as Beatrice/Benedict. Despite the seemingly daily war of words between Princess Leia and Han Solo in the hallways of Hoth’s Echo Base, it seems every Alliance member except the Princess and the smuggler knows that the two are in love. While the verbal battles continue (some more sophisticated than others - Han’s only available comeback to Leia’s rather weak “scruffy looking nerf herder” jab being “who’s scruffy looking?”) Chewbacca, Luke, R2-D2 and a relatively confused and unwilling C-3PO ‘undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Han and the Princess Leia into a mountain of affection the one with the other’. By the end both Han and Leia are separately convinced the other is madly in love with them and relent (purely out of the goodness of their own hearts and not at all because of any feelings they might have) to save the other from their suffering and agree to marry them. Also Jar Jar Binks is Dogberry - do not question it.
Othello
In order to serve his own purposes, Palpatine manages to turn the righteous and lauded warrior Anakin Skywalker against his wife, Padmé Amidala, with whispered lies and deceits, resulting in Anakin choking and, ultimately, killing the woman he loves. That’s it. That’s the film.
Pericles
Anakin as Pericles, Padme as Thaisa, and Leia as Marina. After fleeing from Mustafar with Padme, Obi Wan and Bail Organa watch helplessly as Padme gives birth to twins then, seemingly, dies. Afraid to bring more attention on themselves from Sidious and his new apprentice, the men place Padme’s body in an escape pod and eject it near Jedha. What they don’t know is that Padme is only mostly dead (which means she is a little bit alive). When her escape pod is found by a young local force user named Chirrut Imwe he brings Padme back from the brink. Knowing that her husband is dead to her and with no way to contact her children, Padme decides to dedicate herself to the Force at the ancient Jedi temple Chirrut and his husband Baze Malbus brought her to. Meanwhile, Leia is raised by Bail and, when she is old enough, dedicates herself to the Rebellion (sorry guys, I just can’t bring myself to have Bail try to kill Leia). However, when Leia is captured by the Empire she is brought before Vader. They talk and compare stories, and through their connection in the Force they realize that they are father and daughter. At the descovery of his daughter Vader decides ‘you know what, fuck the Emperer’ and casually destroies the Empire. Then the Force leads Anakin and Leia to Jedha (which hasn’t been destroyed because of reasons). There they discover Padme living in the temple of the Jedi. After a tearful family reunion with Anakin, Padme, and Leia, the three eventually decide they had better go save Luke from spending the rest of his life as a moisture farmer on Tatooine.
Richard II
Ben Solo as Bolingbrooke and Luke as Richard II. Luke, hoping to raise Ben Solo in his image, is heartbroken when he senses the dark side in his nephew. In a sudden and desperate attempt to keep the dark side from the world Luke banishes Ben (with his lightsaber). Furious at Luke’s betrayal Ben turns to the dark side and destroys everything Luke has sought to build.
Richard III
Turning against his own family, Kylo Ren murders and betrays in order to obtain the position in the First Order he believes his lineage affords him. Hux is Ann.
Romeo and Juliet
Finn has been raised to be a Storm Trooper since before he can remember. All his life he has been taught to hate the Resistance. Poe’s parents were Alliance members during the time of the Empire. They raised him to stand against the First Order. Finn and Poe thought they knew their beliefs, until the two meet and, despite all they have been taught to believe, fall desperately in love. They are, quite literally, star crossed. BB8 gets drunk off fermented oil and delivers a Queen Mab speech in exclusively beeps and whistles.
Taming of the Shrew
The Alderaanian Princess is a bit of a firecracker and has no time for anything in her life but the Rebellion. So when a smuggler shows up and decides to try to win her over Anakin, who did not turn to the Dark Side, laughs and says he’s welcome to try. Meanwhile, Bodhi Rook, Wedge Antilles, and Biggs Darklighter (yes, this IS his last name…) are all vying for Luke Skywalker’s attention. When Luke goes to Anakin and wines ‘but daddy, I want to get married’ Anakin makes a new rule: “YOU’RE NOT GETTING MARRIED UNTIL LEIA GETS MARRIED!”. In order to have a chance at marriage Luke must team up with Chewbacca to help Han tame Leia. It doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone except Han that it is actually Leia who ends up doing the timing.
Tempest
In (self-imposed) exile a grumpy, gray haired Luke hangs out on an island strong with the magic of the Force. Ariel is a Porg.
Timon of Athens
Despite the Clone Wars, Obi Wan Kenobi is glad to be well liked and surrounded by friends he trusts. Then one day his friends (specifically his best friend and a bunch of clones) betray his ass. So what does he do? He runs off to the Outer Rim to the sandiest fucking planet he can find (because his ex-best friend hates sand) and spends the next 19 years being poor and grumpy.
Titus Andronicus
Seriously, the only story I know with more severed limbs that Titus Andronicus is Star Wars…
Troilus and Cressida
When Padme married Anakin Skywalker they exchanged vows, of course, but they also exchanged pieces of clothing. It’s an old Naboo tradition that Padme’s mother loved and Anakin found cute, so why not? It was a silly thing, but the sleeve Anakin gives her stays with Padme, folded neatly in a small box, as Anakin fights the Clone Wars throughout the Galaxy and Padme fights them in the Senate. But then Anakin falls to Darth Sidious’s powers and when Padme confronts him he almost chokes her to death. Almost. After giving birth to two healthy children Padme, Obi Wan, and Yoda agree that it will be safest for the twins to be raised apart in order to better hide them from the Dark Side. Obi Wan takes the boy to Tatooien and Padme’s friend Bail Organa takes the girl to be his adopted daughter. Padme, seperated from her children, spends the next several years traveling the Galaxy, doing good where she can and keeping herself away from her children, afraid that her presence will endanger them. But Darth Vader finally catches up with her. She is captured by the Sith Lord and taken prisoner and her already shattered heart breaks once again when she is brought before him. Her captor demands that she be his, insisting that she love him and give up her foolish affection for the foolish boy she met on Tatooine all those standard years ago. To prove her new supposed devotion to Vader, the Empire, and the Dark Side of the Force, Vader demands Padme supply him with a token of her affection. From her small pack Padme draws out a box with an old but neatly folded sleeve within. She hands it to the Sith Lord, a token of her love, in the hopes that it might remind Vader of the love Padme bears for another man.
Twelfth Night
After escaping Darth Vader with the plans to the Death Star, Luke and Leia, twins raised together as royals on Alderaan, crash in their escape pod on Tatooine. Believing her twin brother to be dead, Leia dresses as a man to better hide from the Empire. She is hired by a handsome smuggler named Han Solo, who sends her as an envoy to the palace of Jabba the Hutt, hoping Leia can gain information about Han’s lost love Qi���ra. Han is intrigued by his new hire and his apparent aversion to the Empire while under her disguise Leia finds she is falling in love with Han. Jabba is confused about why this petite boy Solo keeps sending wants to know about someone named Obi Wan Kanobi, Chewie is considering changing up his single munitions belt style with some fancy cross-gartering, and somehow Luke ends up at Jabba’s in a slave bikini.
Two Gentlemen of Verona
Lance and Crab - Ray and BB8 on Jakku. Ray, having no family to speak of, designates her left shoe to be her mother, her right shoe to be her father, her staff to be her sister, her hat to be their maid and she is the droid. No, the droid is herself, and she is the droid - O, the droid is her, and she is herself. Ay, so, so. She plays out her imagined family life with shoes and staff, bringing herself to lonely tears. Now the droid all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word; but see how she lays Jakku’s dust with her tears.
Winter's Tale
Abandoned after his family exited pursued by a (space) bear, Baby Yoda finds a new protector and adopted father in Din Djarin, the Mandalorian.
Cardenio and Love’s Labour’s Won
These two are the 6 hour uncut Phantom Menace because they are lost and I would give my first born child to see them.
Sir Thomas More, The Spanish Tragedy, and Edward III
All the books/legends - not because of the plot, but because although George Lucas had very little to do with them they are really only known, by those who know them, in association with him and his works. There is a large debate by ‘scholars’ as to whether they should be accepted as canon or not.
Bonus
Chewbacca is ecstatic when he hears that an Alderaanian princess has taken up residence in the detention block of a nearby moon space station. He hopes that this princess might be the perfect match for his handsome yet headstrong smuggler friend. After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Alderaanian princess in possession of a good fortune of Credits, must be in want of a husband.
I must give a huge thank you to my friends who put up with me while I did this and contributed fabulous ideas! Vaxildamn, Dazingparadise, Kaethe, and Eric, I couldn't have done this without you!
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Whumptober #1 (shaking hands)
TW: functional alcoholism
Fandom: Star Wars (Obi-wan Kenobi)
Notes: this is kind of experimental, guys
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His hands shake.
Fatigue. Overused muscles. Drawing on an already-depleted reservoir of adrenaline, just one last time.
A simple explanation, really.
Obi-wan brings the metal flask to his lips, drawing deep. Liquid fire burns a path down his throat, pooling at the base of his empty stomach. Sharp, ragged edges give way to a quiet, consistent thrum.
A crisis. Florrum had been a crisis.
Obi-wan knows how to handle a crisis, how to stay steady as everything else falls apart, how to cleave the unnecessary fat of his emotions from the meaty, immediate task at hand.
He can handle a crisis. Perhaps even enjoys them. The cold logic of it, the way they leave no room for thinking, for emotion, for contemplation. Pure mechanics, even in the context of diplomacy. Press here, compliment there, a knowing nod and a well-placed chuckle and everything fell into place.
Obi-wan Kenobi was a master at crisis.
But every storm eventually dies out, worn down by the elements, by time itself.
He doesn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not now.
Not ever.
His hands shake.
It’s a terrible manifestation, this loss of control, of his locus in the Force, a bright-lit sign, just like those ones in the Entertainment District. It shouts his failures at all who pass, showcasing his buried doubts, flashing in garish neon lights for each tourist, each drunk, each criminal, each passer-by - that he has never been enough.
Obi-wan takes another sip. The world warms from grey to sepia.
It's just something to take the edge off, he tells himself, his invisible critics. Something to round the sharp edges of the after.
A quick nip, hidden in a corner of the Temple, ashes of his dead Master still clinging to his robes. The first few months, a frantic blur, shuttling a small blond ball of energy from class to quartermaster to meetings to...
He hadn’t felt good about leaving Anakin with the Chancellor. But he had been desperate for the respite, unwilling to extend himself, to ask for support, lest he been seen as incapable.
Qui-gon had deemed him, if nothing else, capable. He would not fail his former Master in that.
And so what else could he do but acquiesce, to allow the most powerful politician in the Republic to have his way?
(You could have done more. You could have accepted the invitations from the others. Instead you demurred, claiming a need to meditate, to catch up on paperwork, to perfect your Form III.)
Sometimes, it was the truth. Other times, he snuck down to the mid-levels, broad hood hiding his red-faced shame, long sleeves covering shaking hands, shaking hands, which, with enough help, would turn steady as he forgot, as his stubborn brain produced the chemicals necessary to remember what it was like to be...)
His hands were always steady as he stepped into the turbolift, racing back to the grand halls of the Senate, Anakin’s grin as wide as a desert canyon.
Obi-wan needed that anchor, that control.
(Meeting with the Chancellor always left his Padawan in a state. Recalcitrant and proud, unwilling to follow the simplest of Obi-wan’s dictates. He wasn’t capable of being a tyrant, didn’t have the unshakable confidence in his own moral code as Qui-gon had. All he could do was fall back on what he knew, on what others had provided for him, for the Order, over the years.)
The Code, did not waver, did not shake in the face of questions.
The Code remained steady when he couldn’t.
There was another way, of course. His hands had been steady in the red shadow of the reactor shaft. His hands had not wavered in the face of Dooku’s silky temptations.
(If only his thoughts had been of equal fidelity.)
Not a single tremor on Mortis. No tremble of an outstreched, pathetic arm on Zygerria, laid low on his knees, begging for the salvation of another. (Never his own.)
(Later, aboard the safety of the Star Destroyer, he would hole up in a forgotten cargo hold, his only company a ratty blanket, several generous bottles of Corellian whiskey, and the stern glare of a good friend. Cody, true to his word, had kept his disapproving silence, taking a place next to Obi-wan on the unforgiving durasteel floor, bottle dancing back and forth between their hands (Obi-wan’s steady hands) well into the night.)
Falling apart had not been a luxury during the Rako Hardeen debacle, and on Raydonia -
Not once had his hand wavered on Raydonia. His thoughts had stumbled, his ribs had pulsed in an unrelenting ache, blood seeping from his right ear, the jagged tear in his lip screaming at nerves -
But his hands had not shaken as they held Ventress’s lightsaber.
Then again, rage did much to focus one’s thoughts.
He remembered it from Naboo, the way the Force coalesced, a single point in his subconscious, a weapon of his will, his gathered ire, barely able to wait, yearning to be unleashed on its target.
Maul’s survival had served as odd comfort. For as much as he had been disgusted by his own descent into that well of hatred, it had been mere child’s play in comparison to Maul’s unrelenting rage, an anger so deep, so broken in the Force that it had allowed him to survive, bisected, stranded in a garbage heap, for years.
Maul’s hands, Obi-wan had noticed, never shook.
Cool metal meets his lips. Obi-wan takes another gulp, the cheap, barely diluted liquid razing what is left of his esophagus.
Maul had razed Raydonia, too, burning it, fires towering, swallowing, suffocating what little life had been left as witness to his terror.
Pain gives focus. Focus, as Obi-wan knows all too well, is central to the life of a Jedi, to his relationship with the Force. He briefly wonders if this is how it is with the Sith, if they torture and maim and kill by means of a million small cuts as a way to focus.
It’s disgusting, a perversion of everything meant to be be good in the galaxy.
It’s also highly effective.
The battle on Florrum shouldn’t have him so distracted. Unlike Raydonia, unlike Naboo, unlike Geonosis, he knew what - who - awaited him on that dusty backwater.
And yet it still hadn’t been enough.
Not for Adi Gallia.
His hands had been steady. But his eyes had widened, unable tear themselves away from the gruesome image of Adi’s skewered, smoking corpse. His hands had not wavered as he leapt from the fallen speeder, vision filtered through the crimson blade at the side of the enemy, his body, his thoughts steel as he landed a single kick at Savage, his own blue weapon raised to cleave the bastard in two.
Hate, anger, fear - it wasn’t that a Jedi never felt these emotions. They were sentients, and even Yoda himself manifested moments of irritation, the closest to any negative emotion the old troll had likely come close to in many years.
It was part of their training, to familiarize themselves with these negative thoughts, to identify their triggers, to understand what was at the heart of that ball of anger, to be able to pull at the thread which would undo the dangerous tangle in a single motion.
Or, that’s what it should be. What he tried to teach Anakin, tried to communicate to Ahsoka.
That’s what he should have done for himself years ago.
Instead, that knot of unpleasantness only grew, threads multiplying, sprouting, decaying, only to rise again, twice as terrible, twice as tangled. And each time Obi-wan shoved the whole ugly shape into his metaphorical closet, shaking hands the only indication anything had been at all wrong, slamming the door shut with a silent curse and a deft movement to his belt.
Enough alcohol locked the whole thing away, buried under layers of thick, woolen denial
Better quality than the blankets we receive from the Republic, he had mused once, fingering the standard-issue military fabric draped over his knees.
Obi-wan reached for the flask stationed on the floor. Nearly steady now.
His hands had not shaken as they brandished the dual weapons - his own and Adi’s. Backed against a wall, at impossible odds, the image of a fallen body playing on repeat -
He had been confident, steady as he jumped onto the back of Hondo’s speeder, even as his growing unease wrested against the heavy locked door. He had not shaken as he excused himself to one of Hondo’s last intact holding cells, stopping by the abandoned bar to swipe several bottles of alcohol likely made in some ‘fresher still.
A precautionary measure. He had felt fine, good even. Steady, focused in the Force.
Perhaps this time he had been able to banish that knot once and for all.
And then the closet burst open.
He nearly dropped the bottles - once, twice, three times. Only with the minor application of the Force had he been able to open the damned things, bringing the aperture to his lips, his swallows as desperate as those of a man stranded in the desert.
It had been an hour. Maybe two. He would need to report to the Council. Make arrangements for transport back to Republic space - for both himself and Adi’s body, he thought grimly.
Obi-wan lifted an arm.
Steady.
No tremor, no spasms. Not even a twitch.
Crimson threads gathered, contorting, a haphazard weave of guilt, anger, and sadness - no pattern, meaning, no reason why.
(You know why, Kenobi).
Strong hands grabbed the traitorous little ball, shoving it to the back of the closet once again, the heavy door slamming shut with a dangerous finality.
Steady hands turned the lock as long, confident fingers cast the key far into the ether of his own mind.
Somehow, it always came back.
Hands. His hands. Which did not shake, did not waver - reached for the communicator buried in his utility belt.
Obi-wan sat straight. His vision remained fuzzy, his mind a delicate balance of temporary, blunted euphoria and rigid logic.
It would have to do for now.
With a sigh, he pressed the activator.
“This is General Kenobi…"
#okay here we.go#whumptober#Whumptober 1#obi wan kenobi#star wars#writing#lightly edited#tw alcoholism#sorry obes#tomorrw will be a good omens fic#mostly bopping back and forth#and now#the gym
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May I put in a prompt? If you're totally burnt out on this verse, just ignore this. In the Negotiation-verse what would it be like if instead of the whole drugging and kidnapping business, they ended up sorting out the kiss and dating. Anakin has no idea his boyfriend is a serial killer. Could be serious, fluff, total crack or hell it could be Quin mocking Anakin about his hickies. I don't care.
This prompt has been sitting in my inbox for so long. I am almost ashamed.
Here u go.
Alternative
Negotiation-Verse
M/E, 2000 words.
A sharp rap at Anakin’s office door draws the detective’sattention away from the mountain of reports piled up on his desk. With no majorleads to chase at the moment, he’s been working on filling them out all morningand is grateful for whatever reprieve that the day can provide.
When he’d first become an officer, he couldn’t believe howmuch paperwork was involved in the day-to-day operations of a police station.He’d hated it then, and he still hates it now. Usually he tries to shove it offon Quinlan whenever he thinks he can get away with it, but Ventress has sweptVos away for some business conference she has to attend overseas and now Anakinis stuck catching up on both of their overdue reports. He supposes thatturnabout is fair play, no matter how much he would like to complain otherwise.
“Come in,” he calls, swiveling his office chair toward thedoor just in time for it to crack open, revealing one Coruscant Universityprofessor, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“Is now a bad time?” Kenobi asks, leaning against thedoorframe with a wry smile on his lips, as though already predicting Anakin’sanswer.
“Never a bad time for you,” Anakin replies, moving files offhis desk in attempt to clear a place for Obi-Wan to sit while the other mancloses the door behind him. He doesn’t here the soft snick of the lock, caught up as he is in his work, but he doesnotice the smirk on Kenobi’s lips when the man settles into the space hecleared. “What brought you over this way, babe?”
Obi-Wan shrugs. “Had a class cancelled, and just wanted tosee you. I don’t need an excuse to do that, do I?”
“No, I suppose you don’t.”
Apparently satisfied, Obi-Wan turns his attention to thefiles on Anakin’s desk. While it is technically against the rules for Kenobi tobe thumbing through them as though they were magazines in the checkout lanes ofgrocery stores, Anakin doesn’t see any particular harm in it. His partner isdiscreet, and isn’t the type to go blabbing about the detective’s cases toanyone he knows. Not like their social life is particularly riveting anyways,with most of their friends connected to the police force by way of Anakin’semployment. Really, there was no one to gossip with who wasn’t already in theloop; while Obi-Wan was popular enough with his coworkers, he didn’t maintainany particularly close relationships with any of them.
“Why was your class cancelled?” Anakin asks as Obi-Wanshifts paperwork around, digging through them to find something that catcheshis interest. Most of what is on Anakin’s desk these days is common muggingsand break-ins. Tedious work, but essential toward keeping the generalpopulation of Coruscant safe. He sometimes thinks he would like something moreexciting, but the more rational part of him knows that there will plenty ofthat come the Christmas season. He should spend the off months luxuriating inpicking up petty thieves instead of internal organs.
A hum of satisfaction marks Obi-Wan having found somethinghe likes, and the man answers with his nose buried in the pages of the file.“Not enough students registered. Apparently my Survey of Shakespeare coursedoesn’t have quite the same draw as it used to.”
“Kids today have no respect for the classics,” Anakinreplies, not because he himself has any particular interest in the works of along-dead playwright, but because he knows Kenobi likes to grumble about thedecay of society and youths today.
Leaning over in his chair to get a view of the file hispartner is reading, Anakin is not particularly surprised to find the Negotiatorfile in the man’s hands once again. Since the start of their relationship, he’sshown a keen interest in following along with the case as Anakin attempts totrack down the most prolific serial killer prowling Coruscant’s streets. Thisis hardly uncommon; nearly everyone he’s ever met are curious about theNegotiator case, as high-profile as it is.
“Do you think you’re any closer to catching him?” Obi-Wanasks, drawing a picture from the disorder and holding it up to the light asthough to get a better look.
It’s of one of the latest cycle’s crime scenes, another ofAnakin’s not-quite brothers left brutalized and bared for the world to see. Thepattern has changed again, much to Anakin’s frustration. While before they knewthe Negotiator was luring his victims with sex, the seduction seems to havetrailed off entirely with his newest set of victims. In its place are drugs—thecheap kind, easy to get on the street and difficult to trace for their prolificnature—slipped into drinks at busy clubs with distracted bartenders.
The level of brutality in thesemurders had risen with the exclusion of sex, each victim bearing more of thebruising and evidence of assault only sporadically found in older victims. Thescenes themselves had changed as well, no longer as careful and precise as theyonce were. Not rushed, by any means, or sloppy. Not enough to leave evidencebehind. But Anakin, when he looked at the cuts and the gaping, open wounds,could tell that each one had not been given the same carefulconsideration they once might have received.
“Not really,” Anakin confesses, and Obi-Wan frowns as he draws another picturefrom the file. The Negotiator’s pattern had always been consistent, its onedrastic change clearly instigated by Anakin arrival on the case. What hadcaused this most recent change, he can’t quite figure out. There are a fewpieces, in the rush of his work, but they connect to nothing of significance.No events that Anakin can identify.
“Made a bit of a mess, didn’t it…” the man mutters distastefully, more to himselfthan to Anakin as he grimaces at the picture. It had been a mess, blood usuallydrained away left cool and tacky on the floor and of the county library. Limbshas been shelved neatly away with the books, the head and heart sitting on thelibrarian’s desk when police arrived. There was no note for Anakin, nor hadthere been one this whole cycle. He’s unsure whether or not this comes as arelief that the targeting has stopped, or as warning that his nemesis had begunto lose interest in their game.
“It was messier than usual.” Anakin informs his partner. “I told the guys—Ithink he had a workstation somewhere, and for whatever reason, he can’t getback to it as much anymore. He’s having to work on fly, and it’s not as cleanas it might have been otherwise,”
Obi-Wan hums thoughtfully, offering the younger man a wry smile as he replacesthe picture and sets the file aside. “Perhaps he has someone to go home to, atthe end of the night.”
Anakin chuckles at the jest. “Is there true love for serial killers?”
“There’s true love for anyone, if you look within the pages of literature,”Obi-Wan replies, leaning over to run his fingers through Anakin’s hair.“Princes and paupers, knights and beggars.”
Anakin doesn’t resist when his partner uses his grip on his hair to draw himover, leaning eagerly across the desk and into Obi-Wan’s space. “Cops andserial killers; you and me,” the man breathes, and pulls Anakin into a kissthat is anything but chaste.
Obi-Wan, he has come to find sincetheir initial encounter, is an excellent kisser. When they’re together, it’slike the world around them fades away, as cliché as it sounds. He never used tothink it a thing that could actually happen, but when it comes to Obi-Wan, hesupposes it makes sense. The man himself is almost a cliché at times, seeminglywalking straight out of Anakin’s teenage wet dreams. It’s easy to lose himselfin Kenobi—so much so that he almost doesn’t notice the man sliding off thedesk, shuffling around to where Anakin sits, until he’s upended from his chair.Until Kenobi is bending him over the flat of his desk, tugging his pants downand freeing Anakin’s achingly hard cock from the confines of his slacks.
Another cliché.
“You planned this,” Anakin accuses when he hears the distinctive sound of a capopening. He tries to turn around, but the hand at the base of skull, pinninghim to the desk, only presses harder to still the movement.
“More hoped than planned, really,” Obi-Wan replies calmly, even as Anakin bucksin surprise at the sensation of cool lube drizzled between his cheeks. “Iconfess that this has always been a fantasy of mine, and when you mentionedDetective Vos stepping out of the office for a few days, well… I am quite theopportunist, my dear.”
“You do know you’re supposed to discuss these things with your partner first,right?” Anakin grumbles, but still finds himself pressing back against theslick fingers that have begun to work him open. “What if somebody were to walkin? You’re not the only one in demand of my attention, you know.”
Obi-Wan curls his fingers in a way he knows Anakin likes, dragging a raggedmoan that the detective has to stifle with his fist when the man’s actions sendpleasure racing up his spine. “The door is locked; if you’re quiet, no one willever know what we’re up to.” He murmurs as leans forward, nipping at the shellof Anakin’s ear. His fingers slip from Anakin’s hole with a last stretch, thesound of a zipper being undone quickly following. “You can be quiet, can’t youdear? For me?”
Anakin nods rapidly; he can be good for Obi-Wan. As much as he’d protested, thethought of getting caught—or someone knowing—comes with an unexpected rush ofexcitement. He wouldn’t have thought himself and exhibitionist before Obi-Wancame along, but then, his new parter had proven himself talented in draggingparts of Anakin to the light that he hadn’t even known were tucked away.
“That’s a good boy.”
Breath coming in excited pants, Anakin adjusts his grip on the desk as Obi-Wanslicks himself up. He has to bite down on his lower lip as the man spreads hischeeks, the blunt head of his dick pressing up against Anakin’s stretched hole.The feeling of Obi-Wan pushing into him is a familiar sensation now, but heremembers what it was like the first time they made love. Remembers how nervoushe was, splayed out on the man’s bed. Remembers how gentle his partner hadbeen, as though Anakin would shatter if handled too roughly.
He is not always so gentle now, not that Anakin minds, and today is noexception. He gives Anakin time to adjust of course, aware of the length andgirth of his cock, but once Anakin pushes back against him in unspokenpermission, he quickly finds a pace that has the younger man’s hips biting intothe edge of the desk with every thrust, that keeps him pushing back and takingObi-Wan deeper simply to stop from sliding up into stacks of papers he hadn’tcleared aside when this encounter began.
One of Obi-Wan’s hands lays over his own as the man thrusts roughly into him,their fingers entwining, and Anakin realizes that his palm lays on the openNegotiator file that Obi-Wan had set aside. His eyes catch for a moment on thepale, bloodless faces of his unfortunate look-alikes, and something twisted inthe back of his mind wonders if they liked what the Negotiator gave them. Ifthey enjoyed being stretched and filled and taken the way he enjoys being underObi-Wan. If they regretted it in those moments before he killed them, or ifthey even had a chance to think about it.
When they’re done, clothes adjusted and Obi-Wan sweeping from the door with alast kiss goodbye, Anakin has to close the file and stow it away in a drawer ofthe desk he’d just been taken over. Must throw himself into the work despitethe lingering scents of sweat and sex, to keep his mind busy. Must think ofother things, despite the feeling of Obi-Wan’s cum leaking from him, because ifhe doesn’t, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if the Negotiator foundhim, and if he’d like it too.
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PART 17 of Luke and Vader Save the Galaxy by Time Traveling to the Clone Wars
Just when you thought this was done . . .
–Luke releases his father’s ashes over the Corellian Run hyperspace lane. He watches the fine grey dust float out into space.
--Fives, Hardcase, and Chatterbox won’t let him be alone. It is very obvious they have set up a rotating watch over him, even if it is from their own medical beds to start with, but since Luke is in his own bed the med center on the Pioneer for the first few days, it is effective. They try and distract him. Hardcase pulls out a sabbacc deck (since his initial plan to get Luke drunk was banned by the medics on duty) and Luke is reminded of Han teaching him to cheat. Chatterbox turns on a holoscreen and they watch the Boonta Eve Classic together and all he can think about is Vader’s plans to kill Jabba and free Tatooine. Fives who is bed bound as his spine heals has Echo scrounge up whatever reading materials he could find on the ship (some really cheesy romantic holodrama tie in) and proceeds to read it aloud over the groaning and laughter of all who are resting and recuperating in the med ward. All Luke can think about is that he remembers a similar book hidden amid Leia’s few belongings on Hoth.
When they finally let Luke out of the med ward, he wanders up to the bridge. Luke has the Datapad of Disasters his Father put together and the plans for killing Jabba. He should just pick a cause and rush off to the rescue, bury himself in work and try and forget.
Instead, he wanders around the ship, meets with troopers, and spends a few hours with the Hack Squad who have saved the galaxy as far as Luke is concerned. He finds most of them playing holonet shoot ‘em up games based on the Old Republic days against kids and teens all over the galaxy. Mal and Uni are busy on the holomedia websites flooding them with anti-Sidious memes base on old holocaps of Palpatine and his underlings, pro-Reconstruction information, and clone brother humor. Luke joins them for a few rounds of the game but holo battle is too easy and they trounce all the other teams. He finally finds a empty office away from his students’ watchful eyes and starts checking his comm for messages.
There are some short ones from Ventress, as she describes life as the de facto spokesperson of the freed battle droids and her position in the Separatist Assembly. (“They have all decided they want names because if clones have names instead of numbers they want names too. They have all decided on the Same. Karking. NAME! ALL. OF. THEM. WANT. TO. BE. CALLED. ROGER! I CAN’T EVEN SABER THEM ANYMORE! THEY THINK I’M THEIR KRIFFING FRIEND!”) There are messages from the clone medics giving him updates on their efforts to help the clones out in the field, and which Jedi were injured or killed before the chipped troopers could be stopped.
There are messages from a Barriss Offee who most formally introduces herself and then proceeds to provide some of the most detailed reports he has ever read and he has received reports from Echo. There are messages from Commanders of Battalions he has never met, thanking him, and asking him what to do with Admirals that have proven to be in league with Sidious. He reads messages from troopers who injured Jedi under influence of the chips or worse, caused death of their commanders, angry and sorrowful and broken. There is a message of condolence from Duchess Satine that is almost too painful to read and she tells him he is welcome on Mandalore any time which is quite the offer because of her pacifist beliefs. Luke spends hours sorting through all the messages and answering what he can.
And then there is the comm from 99 which tells of the first brothers born into freedom, of the little cadets learning and exploring on new worlds, of older brothers choosing to become troopers and join the GAR and those brothers exploring other careers, other livelihoods. He shares tales of troopers coming Home for the first time, having homes and families to come back to. He shares stories of Naming. There are so many more Names now. He talks about their plans to set up Home Bases on more worlds and how he is working to find an uninhabited planet to be their planet. And then 99 tells him about Alderaan, the mountains and the lakes and asks if Luke will join them all for the Summer Moon Festival.
Luke takes a deep breath and comms the bridge telling them to set course for Alderaan.
- At long, long last Anakin finds his words and starts speaking again. Kix told them all it would take time and not to press. Anakin wouldn’t be the first Kix had seen go mute during this war. But despite these reassurances, Obi-Wan grows more and more concerned as the weeks pass with no change. Finally, one evening they hear him haltingly sing a lullaby to the twins, the sound drifting and reaching them in the other room. Obi-Wan, Padme, and Ahsoka all go limp with relief. Anakin will be all right.
–Hot summer evenings on Alderaan don’t even approach a cool day on Tatooine, but he can smell the flowers that remind him of that tiny bottle of perfume Leia kept but never used. Luke is standing a bit apart from crowds of people young and old, clone and not, watching the fireworks on the shore of one of Alderaan’s numerous lakes. He is so entranced by the sight that for a moment he doesn’t notice the ripple in the Force, but out of the corner of his eye he sees a shadow of glimmering blue. He turns and there is his Father as Luke has never seen him before. His Father’s eyes are cast skyward peering out from under his hood, and then they turn to meet his, blue on blue. His Father smiles at him carefully, almost shyly, and Luke can only grin back. There is another explosion of light above them, The instant Luke looks away, his Father’s ghost vanishes, but Luke is sure that his father is just out of sight, hovering nearby, watchful as always. His name is called by a few of the young clone cadets and Luke walks forward to join the clone brothers waving sparklers in the air.
–It is nearly six months After (and from now on, Anakin expects he will divide his life into Before and After the twins were born and Sidious died) that Anakin learns that a major operation is being planned with volunteers from the 501st and the 212th and many of the Force sensitive clones. He is hesitant to leave his family and is unaccountably nervous about returning to any sort of combat, but this is not the Clone Wars and Outer Rim Sieges. Rumor has it this is an anti-slavery offensive. Obi-Wan is on Mandalore, but Ahsoka is here and at her and Padme’s urging he joins with Rex and a few other brothers heading back into action. As they travel, Jesse ask after his family and he proudly shows them all a few (just a few!) holos of his children. The men bear his enthusiasm with good grace as they have stories of their own little ones running and crawling around back at “Home Bases” on several planets, growing and maturing slowly.
Anakin is stunned to find out the offensive’s objective is Tatooine and leading the fight is Luke. The men greet him like a brother in arms but Luke is quick to show him the plans and defer to him and the more senior clones. Anakin reviews the detailed campaign starting at Jabba’s Palace and then moving to the smaller communities before hitting the towns. He learns that undercover operatives have already been working with the local Underground to prepare the people to aid in the liberation of the planet from the Hutts.
“Impressive,” Anakin can only say, amazed that his life has come to this, to the battle to free Tatooine at long last. He had given up on it ever happening, a dream un-befitting a Jedi of the Order. Anakin wonders to himself who’s plan this was and who cared enough to bother with Tatooine. “Your plan?” he asks Luke.
“My Father’s,” Luke corrects with a funny half smile. “We were planning to go before . . .” he shrugs, trailing off.
Captain Rex casts a quick eye over the plans and nods. “Vader always had an eye for maximum damage. He couldn’t pick a more deserving target from what I hear.” He then catches something and zooms in on the planned assault for Jabba’s Palace. “I don’t recall this part of the plan,” he said pointedly to Luke.
Innocently, Luke denies any knowledge of what Rex is talking about and he has Anakin nearly fooled until Hardcase starts snickering. Fives leans forward and then groans when he sees what Rex is talking about. “Sir, you aren’t seriously planning–“
Rex cuts him off. “There is no way in hell I am letting you lead the charge on Jabba’s Throne Room and confront the Hutt one on one. I was there when you two were planning this. Vader was very clear you weren’t to be directly involved. I can’t let you do this,” he says to Luke. “Your Father will kill me.”
“My Father’s dead,” Luke reminds him crossing his arms over his chest.
“That isn’t likely to stop him!” the Captain retorts hotly. Anakin looks around and sees most of the clones nodding in agreement. He was kind of regretting not meeting the one Sith he was considering taking off his “Kill Sith” rule, he actually sounded like someone Anakin would have enjoyed meeting.
“Captain,” Luke begins and then his tone softens. “Rex, let me do this. I’m ready.”
Rex’s usual stoic face goes through a serious of contortions before he agrees, but insists that Luke have Fives and Chatterbox as back up the entire time while Hardcase is planting explosives with the rest of the squad.
“Is there room for one more on this assault?” Anakin asks after the Captain rattles off assignments.
“Of course, sir,” Rex says, “You’re with me.”
#sw au#star wars alternate universe#star wars#luke and vader save the galaxy#father and son save the galaxy#luke skywalker#anakin skywalker#darth vader#luke and vader#captain rex#clones#clone wars#Jabba
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