#also get ahsoka some therapy man

[aspenstarflare]

Vader yelling at the inquisitors after Ahsoka beat them up without breaking a sweat:

Vader: You insignificant useless imbeciles! You couldn’t beat two poorly trained Jedi, when there were two of you and a entire legion of storm troopers?!

Seventh sister: But my lord, Ahsoka Tano appeared out of a shining beam of light and destroyed us. It’s well known she’s been trained by-

Vader: [Chuckles]

Seventh sister and Fifth brother: ?????

Vader still laughing: That’s my girl. You two stood no chance. Surprised you even survived lmfao.

Seventh sister and Fifth brother:

Seventh sister and Fifth brother: . . .

[padawansuggest]

Ok, so I was supposed to draw one small fanart, but I got carried away and created an au ^^''

Jedi cats Au

(Disaster lineage edition)

Yoda: Small green cat with tufts of white fur on his tail tip and across his spine. He loves being cuddled by the younglings as he tells them stories(basically their therapy, grandfather cat) and going on occasional trips to Dagobah for meditation (at least, that's his excuse). What he really does there is hunting frogs(he claims they're good for his bones) and camping out in the swamp(the whole trip traumatizing Dooku in the process).

Dooku: Huge white cat with brittle yellow eyes and spiked-up fur. He doesn't change much in his cat form, but when he does, he spends most of his time sunning himself on the council chairs(you can't blame him, cats can't resist such a good sunning spot), skulks around the temple corridors looking elegant and graceful, and steals sith holocrons out of nowhere so he could 'study' them(they were later confiscated and thrown out of the temple when Qui found out). He never lets anybody pet him except for Sifo, Jocasta, Qui, and sometimes Yoda(his adoptive father figure), or Obi-wan(his grandson whom he's secretly proud of)

Qui-Gon: Greyish brown cat with long silky fur and leaf-green eyes. He mostly hangs out on the temple's huge tree or goes on trips to Lothal to have tea with Loth-cats and wolves. (The Loth-cats kind of worship him as their 'god', and the wolves invite him and his apprentice for night strolls and 'singing to the moon' meetings)

He also randomly adopts kittens(padawans; in this case, Obi-wan, Anakin, and recently Ahsoka)

Obi-wan: Small auburn cat with darker splotches and grey-blue eyes. He's smaller than his apprentice but twice the sassiness. Cody loves to cuddle him and stroke his soft fur for hours while talking about how his day went(Obi doesn't mind^^). As a kitten, he constantly kept Qui company while he studied at night(at least that's what he says when Qui complains about his student/son being annoyingly cute and knocking over his mug of tea on purpose every five minutes).

Anakin: Brown tabby emo with sky-blue eyes. He hates sand, is very chaotic in many ways, and has a talent for annoying Obi(he actually passes down his 'abilities' to Ahsoka, who becomes more like her master). He also holds a record of being the most troublesome padawan in existence.

Despite all this, Padme finds him adorable (he often sneaks out of the temple in his cat form to meet his gf), but Obi-wan and Ahsoka know better(sure, he's nice and charming, yet can also be pretty stupid and reckless).

Ahsoka: Sleek, lithe, orange cat with white tail and blue stripes. Her Lekku still exists in her cat form as well as her facial markings(the Lekku are used to communicate with other cats or Jedi, and also play an important part in balancing their bodies while they leap agily or pelt across obstacles at high speed). 

Toruguti cats have very short, smooth fur on their bodies(the pelts are mostly an orangish hue, with blue stripes appearing on the back of their flanks as they get older), but their tails are often white, bushy and flecked with blue stripes.

She's one of the 501'th's favorites because she often hangs out with Rex and the clones(sharing stories, playing games... etc)(the clones especially love placing random things on her head until she moves). As her species are carnivores, she has an instinct for hunting small animals(sometimes leaving her half-dead prey on Anakin's desk like the cheeky adorable prankster she is).

I might upload some headcanons and designs btw

Have a nice day ^^

😭 NOT OBI CUB LOOKIN LIKE A LIL LIPN CUB PLZZZZZZ😭

Lil baby man who looks like an infant permanently no wonder he wants a beard so bad in human form.

Soka’s Lekku is so cute and I love how pissy Ani is. They’re all precious to me. Swamp kitty Yoda is so perfect.

[dalidalia359]

Okay BUT an AU where Obi-wan gets de-aged to his mid-legends days and everyone PANICS because THE General, THE Jedi Master and High Councilor, THE poster boy is now a shiny and OF COURSE with being de-aged he has lost his memories and how are they supposed to deal with this situation when it’s normally only adult Obi-wan that can do so????

Only Obi-Wan HAS NOT lost his memories but he’s seen a chance to go feral again and, well, it’s not really lying if you’re just playing into everyone’s assumptions. So Obi-wAn has basically free reign to go back to his chaotic true self without having to maintain appearances and he is LOVING IT. He is still an awsome general because he wouldn’t abandon his men but someone suggests in a broken pained voice it’s because of the *trauma* of Melida-Daan and he just goes with that.

Him being young and supposedly having no memories means:

- He can call Anakin on all his bullshit without even trying to be respectful, specially shitting on his “secret” relationship with Padme.

-He can go completely FERAL with Ahsoka as an Ally.

-He gets to suggest WILD plans that Fives heartily approves of

-He is now younger than Cody (tho still old enough to flirt) and he is technically no longer his superior (cause he is back to being a Padawan so he is a commander now) so he WILL flirt and see just how much he can make his handsome commander blush

-He also gets to see how all the council regrets how his Padawanship was handled (cause Qui-Gon was a good man but shouldn’t have been given a child as therapy) and gets pampered

-Because he is no longer bound by trying to be proper he also starts pointing out just how creepy and weird Palpatine is and that raises alarms cause the kids got a point

-Maybe the effect is permanent and when he comes clean with actually having retained his memories everyone calls him out for being a little shit. Ahsoka thinks is hilarious, Mace (our resident theatre kid) admires the acting skills, Yoda almost destroys his kneecaps but also almost chokes on his laughter, plo and Shaak are proud parents cause their kid is so smart. The council gives him his sit back even though he barely looks like an adult. Anakin is outraged but Padme also thinks it was well played. The clones had bets going on on wether he remembered or not so some are very happy others very angry.

[graylinesspam]

📓💕

This is one daydream in a series of daydreams that I like to call "forcing Anakin to confront his childhood trauma"

There's no real logic to how it happens I've blamed it on the force so far, but little bitty Anakin ends up sent to the future and appears on the Resolute while they're in hyperspace. Like straight pops into existence in the middle of a call with the Jedi council.

This startles everyone involved (except yoda because he is unflappable). Tiny Anakin is maybe four or five years old (he's small for his age too, literally tiny). He's confused and scared and doesn't know what's going on. Big Anakin is also freaking out.

Baby Ani can only speak Huttese yet, he doesn't like grown men, and he wants his mom. So he just starts crying. Big Anakin tries to talk to him but he so tall and intimidating that it just makes little him panic. Ahsoka as the only female present and a short unintimidating kid herself is the only one that can get close to him.

Anakin is having some PTSD about little Ani crying and asking for his mom.

Yoda decides that until the council can figure out what to do about this that Ahsoka should look after him. It's a little awkward since he can't understand her but he latches onto her as the only safe person on a ship full of grown men.

This is where it gets complicated. Because Ahsoka is already spiritually bonded to big Anakin (and probably because little ani is very strong in the force) he bonds to her as well and becomes really attached, really quickly. Ahsoka falls into step as a big sister super quick because she has a lot of practice as the former leader of her creche clan and through trial and error they find a few phrases similar between Togruta and Tatooine slave tongue (this is involving a headcanon of mine that these two cultures have some overlap being so common in the slave trade). Anakin also tries to help teach little him how to communicate with her. Or at least translates when she asks.

Now little ani doesnt really get that General Skywalker is him grown up. That's a big concept for a little kid. What he does know is that the General is very big and the force is very loud around him. That Ahsoka does what he tells her too and that she calls him master. Adding the fact that Anakin is a human man in a position of power and that Ahsoka is a Togruti girl whosean sorta speak the slave tongue little Ani thinks she's his slave.

Little Ani knows how to behave around a slaver. He keeps his eyes down and his mouth shut but he never lets Ahsoka go anywhere without him. He's small enough that she can mostly carry him around on her hip or he'll hang from her back or hold her hand. Whatever he can. Ahsoka let's him sleep with her and she takes over basically as his full-time caregiver and feeds him and starts working on his obvious issues with food insecurity and water insecurity.

Like crash course therapy. She teaches him how to take apart and put back together mouse droids and bribes him with sliced fruit to get him to keep himself clean. Basically, being Skyguy's padawan means she knows exactly how to handle a little Anakin.

Now little Ani hates Anakin. He's become very protective of his bana (sister in huttese) and will make any excuse to get Ahsoka away from him. And big Anakin isn't exactly stoked about having little Ani around either because watching him get taken care of in a way he only dreamed about as a kid, in a way that far exceeded anything his mother could have provided him, makes him feel a whole lot of emotions. Jealousy, fear, anguish, grief. He snaps as tells Ahsoka that she's making him soft and the kid will be worse off when he returns to his own time if he gets used to three square meals and all the water he can drink without puking.

Ahsoka tells him to shove it because the kid is in her care and she not going to starve him because Anakin is uncomfortable. Tensions grow between them as weeks pass and that just makes little Ani more nervous. He can tell she's disobeying her master for him and he's afraid she's going to be punished for it.

Anakin himself is also frustrated about not being able to spend time with his padawan because hes nothing if not possessive and that's his freaking sister. Like come on.

Ahsoka can't really go on any missions while she has the kid to look after but the boys keep her busy with training while little Ani takes his afternoon naps. She goes too hard one day and comes back bruised up from a small training accident. Little Ani is distressed and insists she sits down and rests. He ends up sitting up while she sleeps.

Anakin comes in to check on his padawan and him and little Ani get into a disagreement when the kid tries to insist he get out. A master coming into a slaves quarters is never good. Little ani gets angry and force shoves the big one right into a wall. That wakes Ahsoka up because now Ani is sobbing and hysterically repeating the same phrase in huttese and anakin is fucking paralyzed on the floor watching him.

Anakin realizes he looks like the bad guy to little Ani and he doesn't really know how to feel about what ani thought he was here to do (except repulsed and disgusted) so he finally starts talking the kid down but he isn't speaking in huttese now, he's speaking the super secret slave tongue and trying to explain that Ahsoka is his sister and he's here to protect her.

Ahsoka is lost but she's holding little Ani and stroking his face and trying to soothe him.

Basically, it's healing your inner child except in Anakin's case it's his outer child, cause the kid is right there. And Ahsoka being a Skywalker expert and the best big sister who gets the chance to spoil the hell out of her favorite brother.

Also despite focusing a lot on the angst factor most of it is Ahsoka and little Ani doing cute shit together like trying new foods, and playing card games, and running all over the training course, and rebuilding droids. She smuggles him some candy and takes him out to a market and let's him sit in her lap while Anakin flies the twilight.

Also just her and him coming up with their own language of short words and gestures to communicate. And her tucking him in to sleep every night and brushing his hair and him following her like a little duckling while she does her job around the ship.

Obi-wan shows up for a while too and just has to deal with some emotions about little Anakin and how imperfect their early relationship was.

And imagine master plo checking up on Ahsoka every day and asking for updates and giving her tips for caring for a child, asking for pictures, making sure she isn't getting overwhealmed. He's super excited about a tiny chosen one.

Also, the troopers love having him around. He doesn't interact with them much because they're big grown men, but having a bubbly laughing little kid being cute as hell is great for morale. Rex even gets kinda close since Ahsoka insists on having him around all of the time. At least Ani doesn't shy away from him.

Anyways, I always see time travel fix it's but none of them put teen Ahsoka with little kid Anakin and I think that's a travesty.

[perrysian]

still haven't slept so brain is still on full "brr dumb ster wers" ideas BUT

IMAGINE WITH ME: Anakin in fact, DOES leave the Order either post the Hardeen arc or the Ahsoka leaves episodes, right?

Granted he's married to a relatively popular and famous and probably wealthy core politician. And there's probably some weird nebulous merch out there with his face/name on it due to his relative fame that he probably has some variation of rights to know as a private citizen, but that's going to be wrapped up in law suits and all and not immediately viable, but he's married!! He's a free man!! He basically adopted his padawan without his wife's prior consent!

He would like to contribute to the house hold!!!

Granted, also, Anakin-the-arm-candy-house-husband, Anakin the trophy bride, is very very tasty and I applaud anyone and everyone who subscribes to this ideal to sally forth and enjoy yourselves.

But let's be frank, it'd be five minutes at a political party of some sort for someone to say something snarky and backhanded about Padme for Ani's immediate reaction to be to put whoever opened their mouth in the hospital.

Not very good arm-candy if said trophy is busting kneecaps in your honor. Flattering? Yes. Useful to further your political nominally pacifist goals? Mmmmm not reeeeally.

SO, in the effort of Anakin Making Himself Useful and Being Good and Therefore Deserving of Love and Affection (please. please. get some therapy by all the little gods. please.) Anakin comes up with Immediate Plans for Funding to both: a) provide monetary compensation to his household for his many short comings, b) provide funding for Lawyers both Copyright and Legal to defend both his name as a citizen of the Republic and also TO GET THE CLONES RIGHTS AS SENTIENCE, WHICH IS ALSO WEIRDLY A COPYRIGHT ISSUE, WHICH ANAKIN FIRMLY AND LOUDLY DISAGREES WITH How does he do this you may ask? Well Merchandise, of course, that he and His Team (being him, Ahsoka sometimes, Ventress weirdly enough, and C3PO), control the production and sale of.

First piece of merch they create for distribution? ....Hero with No Fear Calendar of the Month. Like a Firefighters Fundraising Calendar, but with Young Saucy Former Jedi Anakin Skywalker.

Needless to say it makes bank. There's a weirdly intimate space magazine article talking about his history and how he had to "relearn ownership of himself and his body" once leaving the order. It's essentially a fluff piece but the accompanying photos are soft lit shots of him in delicate silken robes and mussed hair, long bare legs splayed out on the couch, space lace collar of the robe falling just so over his décolletage.

(Ventress takes surprisingly tasteful photos, for a former Sith apprentice.)

It's Scandal, Sex, and Senate Sanctions from the word go!!!

Anakin Skywalker, Space Wizard turned SpOnly Fans for Lawsuits.

((Padme is already pregnant at this point and if she wasn't she is now fuck you canon timeline, so they were planning on retiring to Naboo anyway once she neared her due date, and honestly if she's gonna go out, Padme's going out with a bang!))

(((Bail Organa: please do not actually go out with a bang, do not get assassinated because your very attractive young bride keeps poking the trade federation and the anti-clone people in the eyes directly. can I get at least 20 copies of the calendar for Breha's staff?)))

[phoenixyfriend]

hey i love your time travel aus, i was wondering if you had any recommendations for ao3 fics with similar premises, i’m having trouble finding ones that have aged-down characters and stuff like that

Hmmmmmmmmmm let's see what I've got bookmarked:

There is another Skywalker - Sequels twins get tossed back to TCW, fused into a single person, physically thirty. Not exactly a full-on de-aging, but fun! Love a good body-sharing fic.

Din Djarin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Time Travel Incident - no de-aging but it DOES have Grogu being adorable, and people making wrong assumptions about which direction the time-travel was in.

a comedy in four acts - mental time travel, Obi-Wan and Dooku

Lost and Found - Physically young-adult Darth Vader kidnaps literal infant Obi-Wan Kenobi from the Temple. Darth Vader remembers the future. Obi does not. The fic is from 6yo Obi's perspective.

Not a Good Man - mental time travel, Boba wakes up ten again and decides the solution to history is to get his dad to date Obi-Wan Kenobi

Realign the Stars - no de-aging, but lots of kids! Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, and Cody. All on the TPM mission. Anakin rigs a bet and wins a dozen slaves, most of Jabba's fortune, an entire moon--

Force of Many Sights - Darth Vader dies, runs into the ghost of his brotherteacherdad, and wakes up nine again. I love this fic because it's like 40% therapy for Darth Vader by people who only sort of know what he did with his life, but are determined to help anyway. Also baby Ahsoka is the best.

The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars - Time travel! De-aging! Twins cuddle! Luke and Old Ben hug! Han is flustered because it turns out he hero-worshiped General Kenobi as a kid and didn't realize Crazy Ben was the same guy! This fic's got it all!

Current of Fate - Obi-Wan wakes up a teenager again. His decisions are... well, it starts with leaving the Jedi Order for Tatooine. He doesn't... explain why to, like, anyone.

Reprise - just a very good time-travel fic about Ben Kenobi.

Living in Borrowed Time - Rex and Ahsoka, after dying, wake up at the beginning of the war. Trauma is... not kind to them.

Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns - Leia, a day after Han's death at Kylo Ren's hands, wakes up on the Death Star. She gets out by admitting she's Vader's daughter, and it builds from there.

Old Man Luke - Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Fifty-something Luke Skywalker ends up with some refugees during TCW, is picked up by the Skywalker-Kenobi team, things Happen.

Don't Look Back - Grieving Leia (several years post-OT, basically her friends except Lando and Mon died in a ship crash/explosion) is sent back in time by dead Vader. She ends up as one of Padme's political aides. Literally nobody knows who she is or where she came from (though it seems like Shmi might suspect?), but they sure have theories!

Dominoes - Domino Squad time travel. It's only a few months and a day of trauma for three of them. For Echo and Fives... not so much.

there's a river full of memory - Obi-Wan, mid-TCW, is turned into a young teenager. Specifically, as he was on Bandomeer. People do not react with glee as they find out what the FUCK happened to him.

ARscbpsup - Ahsoka and Rex time-travel. They stay adults... but they pick up a LOT of kids.

The Little Jedi - Anakin, mid-TCW, is returned to being a nine-year-old... from before TPM, of course, so he recognizes literally nobody. He is baby.

[wingletblackbird]

Hi. I've been a long time fan of your meta posts. I've been wondering from a purely legally perspective if, as a senator, Padme had the authority to pardon Anakin following his confession in AotC?

Thanks for the compliment!

I'm pretty sure Padme does not have the authority to forgive Anakin's actions on Tatooine from a legal perspective. This isn't just because she is a senator though, and I don't think senators unilaterally have that authority. Even if she did have that kind of authority, and had it on a planet not in the Chommell Sector, she would lack jurisdiction on two counts.

The first is that Tatooine is really only nominally a part of the Republic. It is ruled by the Hutts. Padme has no authority here whatsoever. On top of that, there is no local law enforcement on Tatooine. There are Jabba's enforcers, and your blaster. There is no real law at all. This is the Wild West at it's worst. That is why when Shmi is kidnapped, Cliegg gathers up his farming buddies, and they go after the Tuskens. They can't call in the police, or the military, or any one else to do it. It's a harsh world, and it is just them to do what is necessary. That is why, from a Tatooinian legal perspective, Anakin has not violated the law. On Tatooine justice=vengeance. It is hard to break the law when there isn't one. Sure people will think what he did was excessive, but everyone hates the Tuskens, (you could even call it speciesism), so no one will do anything about it.

The second reason Padme has no say is because Anakin is a Jedi. The Jedi, as seen in Ahsoka's trial, handle all legal matters concerning violations by the Jedi, if not all Force-Sensitives. Now, this system does have room for abuse. However, there is good reason for this system to exist. Force-sensitive beings can choke you from afar, mind trick you etc. The Jedi are the only ones who can ensure a sound judgement, and/or minimal chance of an escaped convict.

Not only do the Jedi need to be in charge in this case for security, they are also the only one's who can truly appreciate how difficult the Force is to handle. What I mean by this is that there is a difference between falling to the Dark Side, and brushing against the Dark. The former is a choice you can be condemned for, the latter is more like manslaughter. Think in ANH when Obi-Wan tells Luke, essentially, that the Force can also control you. You need to be careful how you draw upon the Force. What might be murder for a non-Forceful, could be manslaughter for Forceful if they are overwhelmed by a Force they cannot control, but controls them.

Taking all of this into context then. When Anakin finds his mother, he is grief-stricken, guilt-stricken, furious, horrified, terrified etc. He decides someone needs to die for this, and fair enough. His mother has been tortured to death over several weeks. He gets out his lightsaber and kills the guards. After that, Tuskens come running up to him, he swings his lightsaber. Fade to black. The fade to black symbolizes his brush with the Dark Side. Anakin intended to kill the guards. This is not against the law. This is justice on Tatooine. However, Anakin is also Force-sensitive, and extremely off-balance. He draws on the Force wrong, gets overwhelmed by the Force, and more and more Tuskens, and next thing you know, he's gone and killed the whole village. This was not intentional at all. (As an aside, I think drawing on the Light Side the wrong way can be just as bad, even if not as obviously destructive, but that is a meta for another day.)

Anakin is shocked, horrified, sickened. We can see him struggle to come to terms with it when Padme comes to find him. When he was using the Dark Side he was on a high of power, all the justifications whispered in his head he remembers, now he's awake and trying to cope with what he has done, and why, and how it felt. He has no clue how to handle this. He is a trainwreck. Now, if he'd been bragging about it, I think Padme would have noped out and reported him. He wasn't though. He felt bad. He should be better than this. She forgives him. This is not on a legal level, just a personal one. Padme's gift and flaw is that she always looks for the best in people. Anakin has committed no wrong on Tatooine, and the other wrongs are a Jedi matter she has nothing to do with. In the same way she likely assumed the Jedi would handle Shmi, she thought Anakin would go to the Jedi. Then the war broke out, and there were other things to worry about.

As for Anakin, he was horrified about what he did, and knew he would have to tell someone. He was scared to tell Obi-Wan/the Jedi though. He had never quite fit in. He didn't want to let them down. He didn't expect them to understand how losing his mother affected them. How could they? What should he do? So, he goes to Palpatine first for advice. Palpatine will tell him what he should do. Had Palpatine been a decent man, he would have been sympathetic, but still would have told Anakin that this was beyond his area, and Anakin clearly needs the Jedi's help. Anakin would have gone to the Jedi. Palpatine is not a good man though, and wants Anakin to feel miserable and dark and dependent only on him, so he isolates Anakin further. Of course, the Jedi would never understand, my dear boy. And, besides, it's not like what you did was really all that bad, right? After all, they killed your mother. All water under the bridge! Anakin may not believe this, but it is permission for him to not face his fears, so he doesn't. He vows to do better, and leaves it at that. If Padme brings it up, he tells her he got help. He legitimately thinks he did. Even if he mentioned it was Palpatine he went to, at this point in time, Palpatine is an old friend/mentor of Padme's. She trusts him too. Problem solved.

Now, had Anakin (or Padme) actually told the Jedi what happened. I do not think they would have risked expelling Anakin outright. First of all, they could not have condemned the murder of the Tusken guards, as that could be considered justice under Tatoonian law. However, the rest is manslaughter, arguably even involuntary manslaughter. (Anakin definitely would not have killed kids at this point in time intentionally. He could barely do it even when he chose to fall.) Given Anakin's remorse, he is not beyond hope, and they do not want to expel a man who still could be a danger to himself and others, (and they want to keep track of “The Chosen One”), so he is punished and offered extra meditative training.

I think generally 1-5 years is the typical penalty for involuntary manslaughter? Up to a maximum of 8-10? I don't know. I'm no expert, but I reckon it is pretty similar for Jedi. I imagine the council would suspend him from all further duties, place him in confinement for a year for meditation, counselling, therapy is that too much to ask for?, after that, they would let him out for remedial training under a watchful eye. If improvement was seen, he would eventually be allowed to return to active duty. His knighthood would be put off for quite some time. Alas, this does not happen.

Even if it had though, I don't picture Anakin ever being knighted. Honestly, the increased supervision would have also meant he couldn't see Palpatine or Padme. I think the latter would be the breaking point. Anakin would insist on seeing her and he would get expelled. He would still be expected to do his time, of course, but after that he would leave and never look back.

[deniigi]

hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

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

Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

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

There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy  and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

 --

 Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

  --

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

  --

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

  --

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

 --

 Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

 --

 PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

  Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

 --

 Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

 --

 Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

 --

 Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

 --

 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

 --

 There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

 --

 Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

  --

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

 --

 Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

 --

 Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

 LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

 Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

 PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

 He held his breath.

 LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

 Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

 --

 It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

 --

 The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

 --

 Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

 --

 “DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

 --

 They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

 --

 Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

 --

 Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

 That sounded like a horrendous decision.

 PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

  --

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

 --

 Another two weeks. Another text.

 PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

 Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

 PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

 There was no winning here.

 --

 MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.  

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

  --

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

  --

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

  --

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

  --

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

  --

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

 Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

  --

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

  --

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”  

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

  --

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

 --

 The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

   --

[mando-abs]

Abs’ Shopping Haul

I hit up my favorite secondhand bookstore and Barnes and Noble today and tore up my remaining England trip money 😎 It time for some retail therapy baybeeeeeee

But first I gotta show you what I have to read for classes coming up that I had to be responsible and buy, I guess 🙄

Blankets is for my elective graphic novel class coming up in the Fall. I don’t have a list yet, but the advertisements for the class kept showing this book and it’s a whopper that I don’t wanna pay full price for. So I saw the only one there and snagged it. The rest are for my summer class on western culture. Some I’ve already read. Hated Aeneid, Virgil just ripped off Homer. Oedipus the King is a fun read. AND I SWEAR IF I HAVE TO READ AUGUSTINE’S CONFESSIONS ONE MORE TIME.

Now for the fun books :)

:readmore:

The sonnets were secondhand and it smells as old as it looks. I love it 🥰 I listened to Get A Life, Chloe Brown on audiobook and fell in love with Hibbert’s writing style so I was reckless bought the whole series at B&N 😈

I got some scrapbook supplies for my England Trip scrapbook I’m gonna make. I’ve got quite a bit of scrapbook stuff already, just need the pictures picture-fied and an album to put pages in

And of course finally…the secondhand Star Wars finds

It’s Ahsoka in her Mandalore battle outfit! She will go right next to the funko ahsoka in her red (???) outfit. And you don’t wanna know how much that transport cost…Also, I didn’t notice this until later, it doesn’t even come with stormtroopers 🥺🥺 I fell for the oldest kid toy trick in the book. Duped!

Oh! Bonus. Sorry almost forgot

Yay! I finally have it! But it’s not compatible with Movies Anywhere 😭 Oh well. I could do Vudu but man I don’t wanna keep up with two digital dvd things. It’s hard enough with the one.

[babblingbat]

Obviously this wouldn’t solve ALL the problems in star wars but like.  Imagine how much in star wars would be better if adults treated children like, dare I say it, actual children.

Like, if 9 year old baby Anakin Skywalker is brought to the Jedi Council and they say “you are practically an infant and require so much therapy for literally growing up in the worst environment in the world and regardless of what happens next we’ll make sure you end up somewhere safe”... idk what would HAPPEN but at least you wouldn’t be questioning this 9 year old’s right to like, exist outside of slavery.

Or! Obi-Wan in TPM! Granted, he’s like, 25 or something, but he’s also a dude who just became an adult in the eyes of the Jedi because his pseudo-dad died, so maybe don’t saddle him with responsibility right off the fucking bat.  Maybe he’d have fewer issues? Obi-Wan’s canonical childhood is already so incredibly fucked up, he doesn’t need more of this.

The clones! Those are children in adult’s bodies! Don’t send them to WAR are you KIDDING me they’re TEN.  Not to mention they have no rights, aren’t paid, are barely considered sentient, and aren’t given a choice about being cannon fodder in the eyes of the government.  THEY’RE CHILDREN.

The padawans! ALSO CHILDREN.  And you don’t even have the excuse that they look like adults here or that they’ve been trained for war since ever (again, what the fuck).  Ahsoka was FOURTEEN when people said “yeah we can send this kid into an active war zone” and DID.  And initiates can become padawans as young as ten years old! Somewhere in the clone wars there are FIFTH GRADERS running around getting shot at and some of them have probably died because they’re IN A WAR ZONE.  If the Jedi pressured the senate a little and was like “no, actually, you can’t put CHILDREN in BATTLE there are LAWS against that”... well, they might not be successful, but the fact that they were just like, “I mean, lesser of two evils, its our duty to the republic, must be done I suppose” about the ENTIRE ORDER being-- what? conscripted? into the GAR is just... idk.  How can you possibly justify putting kids in war zones when they’re literally there as students who aren’t fully qualified, and then REPEATEDLY left to deal with things like this on their own.  I can understand it if the galaxy was a little chiller and it was more of “yes padawan mine sort out this trade disagreement I’ll be monitoring but it’s your show” that’s fine.  That’s a good learning experience.  But you can’t leave the equivalent of a high school freshman in the middle of hostile territory and be shocked when something goes wrong.

Also, just in general, the idea of children being capable soldiers at all is awful! And, I would think, something that the Jedi Council would disapprove of! Oh, you look out for the interests of other people? Hm, why do you, General Jedi #6, have a middle schooler with you? HOW DO YOU RECONCILE THIS

More specifically... Ahsoka was the age of a high school sophmore/young junior when she was ARRESTED AND TRIED FOR TERRORISM as the Jedi Council tried to make a point about not being soft on their own members during war.  How callous do you have to be to not show compassion to a, again, LITERAL NON-ADULT who must have so much PTSD already and then just go “in fact, we’re going to arrest you for MURDER” as if her life couldn’t get any worse, only to then not give her ANY support after leaving.  That’s not an adult, there! That is a TALL CHILD with laser swords and a lifetime voucher for therapy!

And looping back around to between TPM and AOTC, people let Palpatine talk to a ten year old? Repeatedly? Like, the amount of interest that this elderly man is showing in a middle schooler should definitely raise some eyebrows, regardless of sithy dramatic irony.  Anakin is a CHILD and, if I recall correctly, Palpatine, like, threatens the Jedi order in order to speak with him alone? No one said, “no actually we’re calling the police because this REEKS of come into my white panel van child I have toffee energy”? No one wondered why on earth this guy who runs the galaxy wants to speak to this random snot nosed kid? For crying out loud, no one says “hey mr. Chancellor, I think you probably have like 5 million better things to do than chat up an infant”? hell on earth, no one even does THAT much, which isn’t so much looking out for Anakin as it is wondering why the chancellor isn’t doing his job! TAKE CARE OF YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN, STAR WARS UNIVERSE, BEDAMNED HYPERFIXATION

[icannotweave]

star wars for blorbo game! (just the whole dang extended universe go nuts lol)

lmfao thx so much friend 😂😂😂

cracks knuckles let's fuckin' goooo....

~

my blorbo: I mean, obi-wan kenobi was one of my first crushes and he's a sad, gay little man trying so hard to be normal, he's so repressed, he's so tired, his ideology is incompatible with his conscience, he's a longsuffering monk who's also a teen dad who's also a child prodigy who's also emotionally stunted he's also an asshole he's also overly polite, please send help. I'm obsessed with him and his unique brand of Repressed Martyrdom and I don't wanna fix him it's much more fun to study him and coo over his suffering

my scrunkly: finn, my beloved, the light of my life, he's been through so much and he's Kind! he's Brave! he's awkward and earnest and sweet and he deserves nothing but joy for the rest of his life and frankly, it wouldn't be enough. I see him and I go all warm and happy. he's so fucking precious and I would kill for him. he's shaped like a hero. he's shaped like a FRIEND. he was robbed and I would kill for his honor. his archetype is SO MY TYPE and I am filled with impotent rage whenever I recall how butchered his arc was but he's still my love and the best.

(luke and rey are both very close but finn is just So Shaped to me.)

my scrimblo bimblo: you know what?? padme motherfucking amidala doesn't get anywhere near enough analysis or appreciation!! I'll say it!!! her whole concept went off, her aesthetics went off, her being - to quote @dykerory - bug-fuck crazy in A Tame Way is fascinating. she's got such delusions of grandeur, she's got a good heart and objectively decent set of ethics but ya girl's worldview is so flawed in such a juicy way?!? she's such a fucking neolib and her husband is a bit of a totalitarian and you know what! that tracks! she's just so unique in this universe as a politician and Lucas does nothing with her glorious potential. sexism sucks. anyway, @amidalis converted me to be a padmeapologist and I've never known peace since.

glup shitto: ironically, for all that this franchise spawned the glup shitto type, I don't think one exists for me as strongly as for some. I will say that baze & chirrut don't get nearly enough attention and love, they're such an iconic pair of husbands, soulmates, tropes subverted and delightfully lived into at the same time. them as a couple should be all anyone's talking about, frankly, and it wouldn't be enough love. gosh, they're so good.

I must say though, whenever I get even a hint of ahsoka 'the goat' tano in any star wars media that isn't tcw, I start crying and shaking, my BELOVED. she's not really underrated though from my perspective so maybe it doesn't count but wow, I Stan her so hard. the growth!!! the arc!! an icon!!

poor little meow meow: real talk, could this be anyone BUT anakin motherfucking skywalker??? (tbf he is kinda everyone's meow meow, I'm not original, but choosing anyone else would be a filthy lie) my man has objectively been complicit in multiple atrocities and he has a pretty face. I wanna send him to therapy. I wanna punch him in the dick. I wanna study him under a microscope. he's the worst. he's my baby. he did nothing wrong. he's objectively a war criminal. he's a frankenstein monster-victim and I would give him a cup of coco and, again, so much fucking therapy holy shit

horse plinko: as a professional whump writer, I would hurt any character for any reason, so this isn't super fair but my most Hurtable character? poe dameron, quite honestly!! I just wanna make him suffer emotionally and physically. pile on more angst, the man can take it!! he's so snarky and brave and noble and Pretty and also fucking exhausted, those are the most fun to break hehehehehe. I adore him so much and he was VERY much my blorbo when 'the force awakens' hit theaters. also, bohdi rook looks so tired, he's trying his best, let him sleep I wanna see him cry

eeby deeby: once again, could this be anyone but kylo ren?? he's literally so boring. he's! so! dull! it's so fucking funny he's a shitty fanboy of Vader lmfao cause he could never. he's the dudebro who idolizes vader and doesn't know he's interesting cause of anakin. he's not even charismatic like tarkin or a garbage fire like krennic or hilariously pathetic like hux. he's just this unbearably dull little spoiled egoist whose most interesting trait is that he's a shockingly apt meta-analysis of toxic fanboy culture and unwitting commentary on the resurgence of young white male fascists. but he? himself? YAWN. I wouldn't even hate him so much less - cause, again, (scott pilgrim voice) boring - except that his existence stealing space from finn boils my fucking blood.

~

@yakuzadog I beg you to send me more fandoms cause this was incredible 😍😂😍😂😍

questions from this ask game

[captainrexisboo]

Comfort pt 4: Decisions

IT’S HERE. I’ve been working on this chapter for months. Hopefully it was worth the struggle ahaha. Partially took so long because I’ve been feeling better! I have a great support system in place, and so getting to this point was really just a matter of putting myself back into the exhaustive mindset. That said, I’m able to work myself back out of it (thank you therapy)! Working on part 5 as y’all are reading this, let’s see if it takes me another two months to pump it out lmaoooo. But seriously, thank you guys for your kind words and support, love y’all!!!

No warnings apply, aside from general sadness and self-doubt. Also pining. Rex x Reader, reader is a woman, questions and comments always welcome. Also I need to write Ahsoka more.

Tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @000ayfh @pinkiemme @midnightredemption @simping-for-fives @danger-xylophones @iscream4clones @jyvorakal @leias-left-hair-bun @vesperstalksclones

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~

“So you’ll be seeing him today?” 

Rex walked straight to you after the briefing, squeezing his hands behind his back. You were going to be separating for the day, him with Cody to go greet some new troopers and introduce them to their assigned battalions, yourself accompanying Admiral Yularen as he was invited to surprise inspect some nat born recruits. Sergeant Aurin’s recruits. You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Not by choice, Captain.”

“I know,” he grumbled, modulator muffling his voice even more, “Be careful, alright? I don’t trust this guy.”

“We’ll be at a work function, I don’t think he’ll try anything. Especially since I’ll be with the Admiral this time instead of his ‘competition’,” you stood as tall as you could, chin high as you tried to gather your courage, masking your clear anxiousness with a sly grin. Besides, teasing the Captain always made you feel better. No one has corrected your ex about you and Rex yet, and frankly you wanted to keep it that way.

Rex chuckled low, the sound a little hollow, looking off to the side as he shifted on his feet, “I just want you to be alright.”

“If I’m not, I will be,” you gave him an all too wide smile, one you knew he saw right through as he cocked his head to the side, “Promise, Captain.”

You bid Rex goodbye with a salute, one he returned before turning on his heel to meet the Marshal Commander. You gathered your datapad before following the Admiral through the halls. He was a stoic and serious man, one that cared about the men assigned to him, and was able to use his wit calmly even in the most dire of situations. His level-headedness made him a good offset for the very action oriented General Skywalker, and typically you were thankful to be lucky enough getting assigned to him. But not today.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Y/N?” he looked back to see you trailing behind him as opposed to being on his left as usual. He stood just as straight as Rex, not quite as tall, looking at you with eyes that reminded you vaguely of your father’s, and suddenly you couldn’t even begin to think about lying to him.

“Not especially, Admiral,” you chuckled sheepishly, “But I’m fine to continue with you, sir. I just have to gather myself is all.”

He stood in place, letting you catch up, only speaking when he fell into step with you again, “I don’t suppose you consider me close enough to tell me the issue? I can perhaps assist in finding a way to resolve it?”

“It’s not like that, sir,” you shook your head, picking up the pace as if to run away from the conversation, “I can handle it just fine. We should hurry, the Sergeant is waiting for us.”

He didn’t say anything after that, just raised a brow at your averted gaze before turning his head forward again. You knew he didn’t believe you, but gracious that he respected your request to drop the subject. You bit your tongue, an attempt to keep you focused on something other than the burrowing feeling of your stomach, or the quickly restricting muscle in your throat. The closer you got to the nat born barracks, the harder you bit down. Still, you moved forward, thinking about any way you could deflect an attempt to talk.

If he said hello, you’d just nod and say just the one word back.

If he asked how you were, you’d say fine.

If he pries, you’d ask him calmly to leave you alone.

You will not lose your cool. You will not break your wall. Your mask will not crack; you’ll be ice.

But then the strangest thing happened. He ignored you. He barely looked you in the eye when you walked up, talking only to the Admiral. You only stammered out a single hi when the Admiral introduced you to the other officers standing with Aurin. You were there, frozen and eyes wide as you clenched your jaw, steeling yourself for the offence to come- but it never did. The Admiral entered the barracks with one of Aurin’s officers, while the Sergeant stood outside next to you. The tension was thick, causing you to unconsciously shuffle on the balls of your feet. You continued to bite your tongue, trying to keep your thoughts occupied as he stood stock straight next to you.

You thought about that huge stack of reports to go through when you got back, courtesy of the General’s leadership tactics and the general 501st chaos.

You thought about how you promised Commander Tano that you’d pick up the special tea blend she liked before heading back to the flagship.

You thought about how you were going to run to Rex as soon as you both had a free moment, and you thought about how you had no idea that silence could be so blaringly loud.

You had switched from biting your tongue to chewing your lip, twisting a stray lock of hair between your fingertips as the silent moment dragged on, your anxiety digging deeper and deeper into your gut. You stole a glance at him out of the corner of your eye, seeing as he gulped down a breath. But that was all you saw- the inspection was over, the Admiral was shaking hands and saluting goodbye to the Sergeant and his men. You barely got a nodding glance.

This is what you wanted, right?

This is what you told him you needed, he was listening to you- that’s good, it’s a step in the right direction. Right?

You had asked for this.

So then why did it hurt so much.

You were silent the entire way back to the flagship, saying a minimal amount of words to be polite to anyone who came up to you. The interaction (or lack thereof) consumed your thoughts wholly afterwards while you ran a few routine errands before making your way back to the flagship, causing you to just barely remember to pick up and give the Commander her tea. The kind, knowledgeable Padawan immediately noticed something was the matter in your thousand yard stare, clasping her hands over yours in concern, the tea now just an afterthought, “Y/N, what’s the matter? Do you need something?”

You gave the young Jedi a dull, thoughtful look, corners of your mouth barely turning up, “I can’t seem to lie to anyone today. No, Commander, I don’t need anything right now, but thank you for your consideration. I’ll be at the desk in the Admiral’s office should anyone need me.”

You bid Ahsoka goodbye with a small nod, walking down the corridor without an ounce of your usual spirit. Ahsoka looked down at the tin in her hand, weighing the tea blend absentmindedly. She was young, but certainly not stupid, she knew exactly who you needed to see. Gripping the present tight, she ran through the flagship until she got to the office she was looking for, not even bothering to knock.

“Rex!” she burst through the door, the Captain she was looking for dropped his head as his fingers came up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“Vod’ika,” he grumbled, laying down his stylus, “I can’t entertain you every time you get bored-”

“I’m not here for that, it’s Y/N,” Ahsoka cut him off, taking three purposeful steps and slamming her hands on the desk, prompting Rex to look up into her sky blue eyes, shining with worry. His own widened as he stood up from his desk, not even bothering to grab his helmet as he followed Ahsoka out into the echoing hall.

“What’s wrong? Is she injured?”

“No, physically she seems fine,” Ahsoka explained, stepping quickly and talking quicker as she led Rex to Yularen’s office, “But she seems really sad, and she didn’t want to talk to me about it. I know you and her are pretty close, so I thought-”

“We need to stop by the kitchen.”

Ahsoka paused, looking back to see Rex already walking down the turn toward the mess. She jogged to catch up to him, breathing out a snort of laughter, “I mean, I didn’t think now was the time to think about food, Rexster.”

“It’s not,” Rex rolled his eyes at the nickname gesturing an arm out as if the explanation lay right in front of her, “It’s for Y/N. She likes to talk over caf, if I bring her some, chances are she’ll let me stay and whatever’s happening in her little head we can discuss. And if she doesn’t feel like talking still, the caf will act as a reminder she has people to talk to whenever she’s ready.”

Ahsoka blinked at him. She didn’t expect this amount of thoughtfulness from her ori’vod, and the gears in her mind started turning. An impish grin took over her face, canines flashing as she slunk up beside the soldier, “You know, Y/N is really nice…”

Rex raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious as he held the mess door open for the Padawan, “Yes...she is…”

“She’s awfully lucky to have someone like you looking out for her, getting her caf, talking over administrative work, visiting each other’s offices during hyperspace jumps…” Ahsoka took a bit of a pause, stopping just inside the eating area, waiting for Rex to walk right by her to whisper just to him, “...giving each other really long hugs when you think no one’s around.”

Rex paused in his step, unable to stop a ruddy blush from heating over his face. Kriff. He cleared his throat, straightening up, “How’d you find that out, Commander?”

Ahsoka shrugged, giving him a wiggle of her brows, “Security cams, Rex ol’boy. Did you really not think about those?”

Rex groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, “I didn’t think anyone looked at the recordings…”

“Not many clones do,” Ahsoka explained, “We’ve got a lot of nat born officers in the surveillance offices. And boy, sir- do they love their gossip.”

Rex continued his trek to the instant caf machine, exhaling heavily as he surrendered to the teasing he was being subjected to. He rolled his eyes, getting two insulated tumblers to fill, as he started the machine, “Where are you even going with this, Commander?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she giggled, latching onto Rex’s arm excitedly, bobbing on her toes as she jabbed a finger into his pauldron, “You like her!”

“And?” Rex deadpanned, switching a full cup for an empty one at the dispensing nozzle, “I’m not gonna deny what’s obvious, and I get plenty of osik from the rest of torrent about it anyways, who don’t know about the...the, uh, hugging-”

“So why don’t you do anything about it, dummy?”

Ahsoka was about to give him a headache.

“When she and I first started actually talking, she had gone through a really emotional break up,” Rex treaded carefully, this wasn’t his story to tell, but it was the bare-bones basic of how his friendship with you had grown, so it seemed like a good place to start, “I offered her my support, and I’ve kind of become her confidant since then. I’m not going to ‘make a move’ or anything, not until she says something. She’s still healing, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka had stopped bouncing, mulling over Rex’s words. Rex was pouring in your preferred cream and sugar ratio, having memorized just how you like it, almost meticulous in the act. He picked up the cafs, walking steady, careful not to spill, “Where is she, her desk?”

Ahsoka nodded, mind still turning as she followed Rex out of the mess, “So you’re just gonna be there and listen to her problems until she decides that she likes you too?”

“Yup.”

“Does she listen to your problems too?”

“If I feel the need to talk about them, yes.”

Ahsoka stops in front of him, hands on her hips and eyebrow raised, “And what if she decides that she likes someone else instead?”

Rex’s shoulders slump for a moment, looking a little crestfallen, lips downturned and eyes shifting off to the side as a sad shine comes over them, “I’m not naive, I understand how big of a possibility that is. If she makes that decision, then that’s her decision. I can’t force someone to like me-”

“But does she know you’re even an option?”

That made Rex stop mid-stride. Surely you knew he was, right? He thinks back on the past few months, the things you’ve both confided, the tears you’ve shed, the countless moments you’ve both spent in each other’s comforting embraces. Your laughter. Your quiet moments. Surely… you knew, right?

The silence stretched, and Ahsoka looked too smug for her own good as she crossed her arms, chin up with full confidence, “I think you should tell her.”

Rex shook his head, taking himself out of his trance before he began walking again, “I don’t know-”

“It doesn’t have to be today,” Ahsoka clarified, falling into step beside him, “But you should. It doesn’t have to be dramatic, or one of your attempts at flirting-”

“Hey, I can flirt-”

“-just a brief confession.” Ahsoka pitched her voice low, what she thought would be a mimic of his voice, “Y/N, I need you to know I have enjoyed getting to know you, and that I find you extremely attractive, so much so that just holding you distracts me from thinking about the simplest of things, like the surveillance crew that’s always watching-”

“Hush up,” Rex hissed out, now just a couple of feet away from Yularen’s office. He wasn’t nervous, he couldn’t be nervous about talking with you, the both of you talked all the time, about everything. But actually dwelling on his feelings for you out loud with Ahsoka, acknowledging his emotions outright to another sentient did make him more, um, aware of the situation. Suddenly he was transported back in time, on the landing pad, leaning on the ship’s hull and waiting for you to board with your tear glazed eyes and trembling lips. He froze for a beat, staring at the closed doors, swallowing a breath. When did his throat get so dry? He let out a slow exhale through his mouth, almost whispering to himself, “I’ve been in this position so many times already… why does this time feel like the first again?”

“Maybe you’re getting tired of waiting,” Ahsoka offered, looking up to him and giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, “Maybe you’ve made a decision.”

She walked away in that moment, leaving Rex to fend for himself from his own thoughts. Damn Jedi and their cryptic messages. He rolled his neck and shoulders, letting his eyes fall shut as he breathed through his nose, trying to calm himself back down. After he felt himself loosen up a little bit, he pressed the call button by the entrance door.

“Admiral Yularen is on the bridge. If you have something for him to sign, leave it in the-”

“Y/N, it’s me,” Rex interrupted your rehearsed response, already feeling his posture tense back up, “I brought you caf.”

It was just static for the moment, your finger still on the speaker button. After a couple of seconds it clicked off, and the doors hissed open. Rex took a last steadying breath, and took the final steps inside.

[soclonely]

The disaster trio for those character asks?

Obi Wan

a song i associate with them: My heart will go on

a personal favourite hc i have of them: the man puts 75% booze in his tea

an otp / pairing : I really don't have a specific Obi Wan pairing I like. I think of him as one that could not even go for a ship

a notp: Obitine. Feels too forced

a favourite platonic relationship!!: Ahsoka and Obi Wan, talking smack about anakin together

favourite thing about them / a reason why i like this character: HE IS JUST A TIRED DAD TRYING TO RAISE HIS FERAL CHILDREN

something i don't like about this character: how he like... ended, phased out.. like dude. Anticlimactic? Also I get the whole waiting and being patient thing. But it seems completely out of character for him to sit on tattooine for years and just do nothing while the empire does the whole imperializing thing..

my favourite moment with them in the series!!: Ahhhhh the bounty hunter arc. It was so cool to see him in disguise and the conflict he faced in hiding his identity shows how honest he is with anakin and it was a struggle.

Anakin

a song i associate with them: Monster by Skillet

a personal favourite hc i have of them: he makes shampoo mohawks in the shower

an otp / pairing: Anakin x Therapy

a notp: How can I put this without sounding ridiculous uh Anidala

a favourite platonic relationship!!: Anakin and R2!

favourite thing about them / a reason why i like this character: His relationship with Obi Wan

something i don't like about this character: His ego.

my favourite moment with them in the series!!: The Slavery Arc, seeing his reaction and smashing the comm. Its one of the few times we get a glimpse of him dealing with and reacting to things from his past.,

Ahsoka

a song i associate with them: Cherry Bomb by the Runaways

a personal favourite hc i have of them: after leaving the jedi order, she did some self exploration to find out where she belonged, and attempted to find her birth parents, and just had a big eat, pray, love like journey of self discovery.

an otp / pairing: Uh clearly some GrimSoka. its canon in my heart

a notp: Ahsoka x Rex

a favourite platonic relationship!! : Ahsoka and Barriss

favourite thing about them / a reason why i like this character: I'm kind of neutral about ahsoka, nothing stands out

something i don't like about this character: how she is becoming the franchise everything. Rumors about her taking over the mandoverse, just season 7 arcs. Idk.

my favourite moment with them in the series!!: when she lost her lightsaber and had to run around coruscant.

[gaeasun]

Anakin

First impression

Hey that guy is fighting with a lightsaber and flying and stuff that's so cool!

Impression now

He has problems. He has many problems.

Favorite moment

Probably that scene in season 7 where he was being epic and cool and swaggering and saving the day. That scene portrays who Anakin is supposed to be.

Idea for a story

Get some therapy for goodness sakes.

On a more serious note, on learning about the clone army and being uncomfortably close to slavery, he leaves the Jedi Order after getting knighted. From there, he does things like obliterate the Kaminoans, lead an army of deserted clones, and wages a semi one man war against the separatists and boy without the hindrance of politics does he have dooku running.

Unpopular opinion

I love how much of a hero he can be, but he was an extremely troubled person. He killed CHILDREN. This was overlooked.

THEN HE DID IT AGAIN. HE LITERALLY COMMITTED INFANTICIDE TWICE

like... the heck? i get he was brainwashed and manipulated by Palpatine. I get theres a lot of bad stuff that Palpatine convinced him was for the greater good. But I dont get how you can ever be convinced its a good thing to murder children.

(also he led an army of mind controlled soldiers? We forgetting that?)

He did a lot a really terrible stuff that would get him locked up for life.

Favorite relationship

Tough one, because I love the easy banter he has with all of his friends, especially Obi-wan and Ahsoka. It's probably with those two.

Favorite headcanon

He helped Echo with his prosthetics after he was rescued from the Techno Union

[grumpyhedgehogs]

(you taught me) the courage of stars

Summary: “I know what it is like, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan tells her. “I know what it is to leave the Jedi with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you are doing the right thing.”

Or: Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.)

Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse (childhood, emotional, physical, mental), mind control.

Pt. 1.

Pt. 2, Pt. 3, AO3 

Notes: 

This idea has been bopping around in my head for a WHILE, y'all. It's basically an amalgamation of my dreadful desire to put Obi-Wan through pain while also giving him some Therapy Because Boy-Howdy Does He Need It and my absolute adoration for Ahsoka Tano. The basic premise of this fic is: What would happen if when Ahsoka left the Order, she went on a road trip through all of the worst hits of Obi-Wan's childhood?

Bonding. Bonding is what would happen.

Title from 'Saturn' by Sleeping At Last.

Nautical Dawn

Ahsoka runs.

Rain sheets down around the togruta, digging into her skin like a million icy knives. Her soaked clothes weigh her down as she sprints blindly, plastered to her, dragging against her limbs. She is chilled to the bone, but not from the storm.

There is no one here to look closely, to separate her tears from the rest of the water obscuring her vision. She takes a turn, breath hitching beneath her ribs as she passes into a tunnel free of rainwater. There is a light at the end, beckoning, promising freedom. She’s almost out. She’s almost free.

She shouldn’t have to worry about being free.

Footsteps sound behind her as she runs, hurrying after her. Panic closes her throat and Ahsoka tilts, stumbling off balance. She throws out a hand, gasping as the Force rises to meet her command, buffeting her back to her feet. If she can just get to the end of the tunnel--

“Ahsoka, wait!”

Ahsoka had been prepared for Skyguy’s voice to ring out behind her. She’d seen the look on his face, knew he’d look for her when she ran. She’d been prepared for law enforcement, or even Master Windu or Koon to come looking for her--someone with experience hunting for Force Signatures on crowded planets. She’d thought she could do this. After all, if she could turn her back on Anakin, what couldn't she do?

Ahsoka hadn’t thought Master Kenobi would come for her.

“Stay back!” The words tear from her throat, scraping it raw. Her lips burn, her eyes burn. She whirls on him, knowing she must look crazed, deranged, animalistic. Good. Let him see what the Order has done to her. “Stay away!”

Further back down the tunnel, Obi-Wan Kenobi raises his hands to shoulder height and plants his feet. His fringe is plastered to his skin too, and his robes and armor drip rainwater steadily to the filthy concrete below, as if he’d simply bolted after her instead of manning a speeder or taking a transport. His chest heaves in time with Ahsoka’s. Her muscles clench and release, her spine a hot iron rod in her back. The Force whispers in her ears, loud, wanting attention. But Ahsoka pushes it away. It’s hard to hear the Force on Coruscant, sometimes almost painful; there are too many Force Signatures here, and too much turmoil clouding her perception. She can’t let it distract her now.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan says. His face twists with the words. Ahsoka wonders if he’s noticed her tears.

“Don’t come near me. I won’t go back to the Temple.” You can’t make me, she almost continues, but the words can’t be forced from her mouth. She bites her tongue instead, shuffling back, and ignores the tang of blood. The whole thing is almost laughable; in any other situation she’d sound like a petulant teenager. Master Kenobi wants her to go to her room. You can’t ground me because I’m not part of this family anymore!  

Ahsoka feels sick. She takes another step back. She sees Obi-Wan’s eyes widen. He does not move.

“I’m not trying to take you back to the Temple.”

The words make no sense; they sound like static in her ears. Nerves make Ahsoka snarl at him. It’s a trick, it has to be; the great Negotiator, giving up his prey without a fight, without argument? The Council no doubt sent him after her, and Ahsoka isn’t going to fall for it just because he has a friendly face. They’d have better luck sending Anakin.

“I’m not going to take the fall for something I didn’t do!”

“I am not asking you to,” Obi-Wan replies, and raises his voice over Ahsoka’s incredulous protests as she opens her mouth again, venom on her tongue. “I am asking you to listen to me now because we don't have much time before law enforcement realizes I’ve slipped them and begins searching for both of us. I think one of them might have put a tracker on me, so you’ll need to get as far away from here as possible after we’re done, am I making myself clear?”

No, Ahsoka thinks, mind swirling with questions and accusations, panicked. You aren’t being clear at all. “Why did you follow me if--if you’re not going to arrest me?”

“I need to give you this.”

Master Kenobi lowers one hand, his movements stiffly telegraphed, and holds out his open palm. From his damp glove float three items, bright enough to catch the low light but too small to make out in the shadows they stand in; Ahsoka catches them with the Force thoughtlessly, the movement second nature. It’s almost like the old games they used to play in the creche, rolling a ball back and forth with only the Force. She does not look down at what he’s given her, only closes her fists around them and stares. The Force pulses around the objects in her hand, curling around Ahsoka as she inspects Master Kenobi, looking for some reaction, anything to analyze how he's feeling or what he's thinking. But Obi-Wan's not moving, not making any motions towards her. His voice is clear and hard and not unkind. He stands as parade rest and makes sure Ahsoka can see his hands.

Ahsoka blinks, startled as she realizes that Obi-Wan does not have his lightsaber on him. Not that he isn’t a threat unarmed, but--has he underestimated her? Perhaps he hoped he could manipulate Ahsoka into coming back with him?

Or does he not intend to do anything of the sort?

“The datachip is encrypted,” Obi-Wan tells her like Ahsoka isn’t reeling. He speaks quickly, businesslike, as if he's about to lead Ahsoka into battle rather than--rather than help her run from the law. “But it’s nothing you won’t be able to slice into. I couldn’t get ahold of your sabers, I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve--but there was no time. Do you have a way off planet yet?”

Numb, Ahsoka shakes her head.

Obi-Wan nods and his hair flops with the movement, flicking water down his nose and cheeks. The urge to laugh hysterically bubbles in Ahsoka's chest, but she swallows it. He points over her shoulder, out of the tunnel. “Head to Dex’s diner, in the lower levels. He’ll be able to get you on a ship wherever you want to go. Check the chip if you can't think of somewhere safe. There will be papers waiting for you.”

“You--you’re letting me go?”

His lips twitch into a simulacra of his usual smile. It looks wooden. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Anakin wouldn’t do this. Anakin would ask her to stay, implore her not to leave. Does Obi-Wan want her to go? Does he think she really did it--that she hurt their family?

He wants nothing more to do with Ahsoka. He’s throwing her away like day old trash, just like the rest of the Jedi.

There’s a soothing wash of calm in the Force; it emanates from her grandmaster, rolling in waves towards her own nexus of grief and pain and fear. For a moment, Ahsoka lets it wrap around her, a comforting blanket against the cold that has enveloped her for days. Then she comes to her senses and, horrified at her own childishness, shakes it off. Obi-Wan is still smiling that awful, empty smile. “I know what it is like, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan tells her. “I know what it is to leave the Jedi with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you are doing the right thing.”

Unable to help herself, Ahsoka lashes out, cruelty squirming sickly in her stomach. She wants--she wants Obi-Wan to stop talking, she wants him to feel her devastation, she wants him to see how she is crumbling beneath the weight of what his Council has done to her. “You don’t know anything about what I feel!”

Obi-Wan loses his smile; his face looks strange; it is as if Ahsoka has never quite seen him before. He is old and worn. There is a deep sorrow carved into his skin. His gaze unfocusses for a split second, eyes far away while he looks at her. She shivers; it isn't Ahsoka Obi-Wan sees standing before him. There’s something else there too, down underneath the rest of it, something that makes the lump in her throat triple in size, something she can’t name. The gifts Obi-Wan gave her bite into the skin of her palms, the datachip and whatever its companions are drawing Ahsoka’s blood in the darkness of this tunnel. Escape looms at her back.

“Yes, Ahsoka. I do. Now you must go--flee!”

Ahsoka runs.

As she does, one question burns into Ashoka's mind: if she asked Master Obi-Wan to come with her, would he?

[phoenixyfriend]

Madara and Obito... In SPACE

So the preface to this mess: I don’t know jackshit about Star Wars, so a lot of this went through friends who do know Star Wars (the primary of which does not have a tumblr).

(I have watched Episodes 7&8, and Rogue One. Of the first six movies, I remember watching maybe an hour total. I have not seen more than snatches of Clone Wars. Beyond that, nothing but fic.)

Anyway! Let’s go:

As y’all probably know by now, my favorite form of crossover is what I call “intrusive,” so... I'm enjoying the mental concept of "dump Madara on Coruscant and watch him go." (Prequels, probably.)

Does Madara know what's going on? No. Can he understand a word that's being said? No! Is he going to fight the first person to aim a weapon at him, and every person after that? Yes.

Is Madara fighting fit?

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnno, not really, he’s old as balls. This is "I was on cave life support but I'm getting back up to kick ass out of pure spite" Madara.

[Image description: A screenshot of a panel of the Naruto Manga. Uchiha Madara is old and visibly ‘decrepit,’ with spiky white hair and an amorphous black robe. He is sitting on a pale throne, and there is a scythe visible to the side. He has a speech bubble saying “I am... a ghost of the Uchiha.” End Description]

Two wrinkly old guys, staring each other down: There ain't enough room in this universe for the two of us. [Palpatine and Madara start fighting to the death]

Congrats, Palpatine! Your ass is getting kicked by a geriatric malcontent who doesn't speak any language you've ever heard or feel like literally anything in the Force. You may have Sith lightning, but do you have decades of frontline experiences and over half a century of cave-dwelling bitterness?

Both of them, simultaneously, in completely different languages: Get off my lawn, whipper-snapper.

Palpatine: Behold my mastery of the Dark Side, Foolish old man! Palpatine: [shoots lightning] Madara: Oh hey, you're like the seventeenth most dangerous person who can shoot lightning I've fought. Telekinesis? Fought that. Combat precognition? Fought that, have that, and let me tell you hwat, it doesn't help if you're opponent is just that much faster than you.

Now, I’ll take a step back and acknowledge that several people advised me that Palpatine would stand a chance against Madara, likely even win, if Madara just got hacked off of his life support and is down to one eye.

But. I want a shitpost, and also to clown on Palpatine, so Madara wins easily.

Madara also deserves to be clowned on, but the entire situation is clowning on him because he’s not in his cave anymore, and he really wants to go back to his Gedou Mazou statue.

Maybe Madara and Palpatine go Old Man Fight and then Obito just pulls a Ninja Move and kills Palpatine that way. Madara was ranting and Obito just. Ninjas behind Palpatine and slits his throat like “okay, you’re obviously evil so like... bye.”

(I just love causing "Wait what" reactions in characters that are used to having total control. Like. Have you read "Unexpected Guests"? The Bleach fic? Everything that happens in Hueco Mundo and after. That energy. I want that energy.)

Madara waves his scythe around like a cane. Obito just trails after like “Gramps, no” because it’s still pre-Sanbi, so he’s Mostly Innocent (you know, on the scale of how fucked up Obito is as a person), and just wants Madara to like. Stop.

Palpatine dies but nobody's sure what to charge Madara with since he did kind of expose a Sith? And Palpatine attacked first for [handwave] reasons?

Jedi: Well sir, in lieu of charging you with assassination of the emperor, we have decided to ask you politely to return to the elderly person's retirement home from whence you came. Please leave immediately. You are frightening the senate. Madara: [incomprehensible raving] Jedi: Yes yes, very interesting. Jedi, whispering: Does anyone know his caretaker???

Obito looks increasingly put-upon as events progress. You need Obito there to... well, not translate. Nobody can translate. But to at least poke Madara into being Slightly Less Homicidal.

Anakin seems sad about his friend dying and being evil so Obito challenges him to a spar. Madara and Obito get pulled into the Jedi Temple to help train Padawans? My first thought was "they wouldn't trust someone so obviously Weird, Crazy, and Incomprehensible around the younglings" and my second thought was "well they let Yoda do it and he's all those things so I mean? YEAH."

What if they put Madara in the bacta tank and he just freshened up like a daisy because of hand-wave Hashirama cell reasons (Blame Sir Tiddyface).

From “Decrepit and Reliant on Cave Tube Life Support” to “Will Call Down Meteors With Ease”

How many eyes does he have? Whatever’s funniest. Let’s say one Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan and one Rinnegan, for maximum chaos.

Would "half my body is missing" Obito freak out if Bacta regrew his eye? Can bacta regrow something like that? When characters lose limbs they usually just get cybernetic replacements, but  the person I spoke with said that apparently they saw somewhere that that kind of thing can grow back it just takes a really long time.

I want to imagine bacta would help Obito with the Zetsu integration.

Anyway! Yes. Have Madara help train people despite being... Madara about it. You know... kind of a dick.

(I’d put example gifs but I don’t feel up to it. Y’all know what Madara’s “weakness disgusts me” ass is like.)

Obito had to get his "these fools could never make me sweat" sass from somewhere, after all.

Do you think Obito could fight the baby Jedi that are around his age while recovering? I have no idea what their skill level is at fourteen, but I want to imagine Obito sparring the Padawans.

Obito + Zetsu + Bacta = he still needs physical therapy but he can spar again!

Madara is delighted to have a baby ninja to bully. He's too old to not bully baby ninjas, and Obito is the only baby ninja. TBH Madara just makes Obito his assistant teacher.

Obito: What are we even doing here and how do we get home? Madara: I'm still working on that. Obito: But I want to go home and see Rin and Kakashi! Madara, who was like two days away from triggering the Sanbi plan: I'm working on it.

Something sticking in my mind rn is Ahsoka&Obito, since Obito is still Baby.

I think Obito would be excited to have someone his age that thought he was Cool and Talented for being able to do Chakra Things instead of writing him off as "the dead-last." Like, Rin is friends with him, but she doesn't look up to him as someone more/differently talented.  He'd be excited to get to be "The Mysterious Cool Big Bro" for once.

I feel I also just like the idea of Anakin not knowing what to do with someone Several Years Younger that is also. Ninja Skill.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

Madara is a grouchy old man even AFTER he gets effectively de-aged via bacta dunk, for the record. He's back in his prime and the Jedi have no idea how. They're all concerned about tiddyface*. (When are people not concerned about Sir Tiddyface, really.) The mokuton is a problem.

*Sir Tiddyface is that random Hashirama face that Madara had growing out of his pecs for like... convoluted bullshit reasons.

(Madara doesn't have mokuton, but he has enough Hashirama cells that it interacted very, VERY weirdly with the bacta.)

Obito spends the intervening weeks trying to learn the local language. He's very eager. Not particularly fast. Still doing it though!

I want Obito juggling kunai as physical therapy while he's waiting for Mads to get out of the bacta tank and just gains himself the adoration of a gaggle of small baby Jedi children.

Madara comes out of the bacta tank looking like he did in his prime (which I mentioned earlier but whatever), and it absolutely incites a yelling match of an argument that draws way too much attention.

Someone tries to teach Obito how to access the Force, just to see what happens. He almost turns into a statue because the philosophy behind Force meditation is only a few steps away from Sage Mode Meditation.

Anyway, Madara smacks him with a stick like Fukasaku to make sure Obito doesn't turn into stone.

Madara grumps about the lack of paper and brushes and ink. Bitches about it until someone hits up an antique store or something to get them for him. The day before he and Obito are dispatched on a mission with someone, probably Anakin for plot reasons, Madara very publicly seals things into a scroll and then tells them that no, they can't learn it, because the Force isn't chakra so fuuinjutsu won't work for them, so There.

Obito practices some Teen Rebellion (tm) and like, tries to teach the Padawan friends he's made how to do Chakra Things... but he's so bad at explaining things that nobody can get it to work even if it were possible.

In Obito's defense, language barriers. Not in Obito's defense, he's just really bad at words sometimes.