#anakin loves obi-wan so much it's disgusting

[bloatedandalone04]

Back To You

➪the one where anakin is slipping away and needs you more than ever.

Part 1 | HAPPY MAY THE 4TH (had to get this out for today)

Warnings: self deprecating thoughts once again, anakin on the verge of turning evil, angst, fluff, insecurities, mentions of insecurities, mentions of death, urges to kill

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Your reflection stared back at you, your own eyes looking at you with pity.

Poor, lonely Y/n. 

With tense shoulders, you shudder out a deep breath and avert your eyes to the marble of the countertop. 

You hated when your thoughts ran around in your head like this. It didn’t happen often, no, not anymore. You weren’t a teen anymore, you had no excuse to feel like this, yet you just couldn’t help yourself.

Taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, you miss the way Anakin appears in the doorway, his brows furrowed and his shoulders tense, matching yours. “Y/n,” it was as if he knew what was happening, felt the way your own body was attacking itself with a sense of hatred and burden. 

You look back up and meet his eyes in the mirror, a small whine of embarrassment leaving you. “I wish you wouldn’t see me like this,”

Anakin hadn’t seen you act this way in many months, not since you were on the verge of becoming an adult. Your shoulders shaking beyond your control, the crease in your forehead, the quiver in your voice. He hated all of it. 

“Wish all you want,” he said as he stepped into the room. “I still see you.”

Crossing the short distance, Anakin stands behind you, his height towering over yours as you look at each other in the mirror. “You want to know what I see?” You quietly ask him and he stays silent, his eyes giving you a look of warning that told you all you needed to know. No, if you see anything negative about yourself and voice it to him, he doesn’t want to know what you see. You say it anyway. “I see someone unworthy of love, of being cherished. I don’t see a powerful warrior like I’ve been told I am. I’m nothing.”

Ankin places his hands on your waist, his grip firm as he stares you down in the reflection. “That is not true and you know it,” his voice was stern and left no room for arguments. 

But you were far too stubborn for your own good, a trait Anakin saw in himself and one of the many reasons he fell for you in the first place. “But it is true, Ani,” you protested, looking at yourself with a hint of embarrassment and disgust. “Look at me.”

“I am,” his voice was the most serious you had ever heard it, something that makes you promptly stop talking. You weren’t intimated, no, Anakin would never put you in a situation in which he held his power and strength over you, but you were, however, intrigued. So much so you waited for him to continue, a ghost of a frown painted on your lips. “You are so much more than that. Your mind may betray you, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. You are strong and more powerful than you even know. One day you will save this galaxy, and you don’t even know it yet.”

Your lip quivers and you repress showing the chill that runs down your spine. “What if I don’t believe that?”

“You will,” he affirms. His arms wrap around your middle and he leans down so his chin is hovering over your shoulder. You rest your arms over his as you hold eye contact, your sight slightly blurred. “And until that time comes, I’ll be here to remind you just how powerful you are.”

-

One by one, all the happy memories Anakin had with you faded into nothing, his heart cracking each time he felt a part of him slip away. 

His body nearly gave up on itself as he stumbled his way through the temple. One of his hands shot out to catch himself, his palm pressing flat against the wall as he steadied his footing. “Get it together, Anakin,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath in hopes to relieve some of the pressure he felt was weighing him down.

It was then when Obi-Wan rounded the corner and saw his padawan struggling to keep himself up right. He was at his side in seconds, his hand wrapping around the younger man’s arm and pulling him into a standing position. “Anakin,” he said, worry lacing his words. “Are you alright?”

Anakin gave him a slow nod, his dull eyes focused on the stone of the floor. He thinks back to his last conversation with you, a full three weeks ago, and his eyes abruptly shut, your words repeating in his head before leaving his own mouth. “I fear I’ve fallen ill,”

Obi-Wan gives him a concerned look, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy,” he says, noticing the way Anakin refused to show him his eyes and the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “Relax, Anakin. You’re needed for the mission of protecting Senator Padmè and we can’t have you falling weak a few days before you’re set to leave.”

Anakin felt his ears begin to burn at the mention of Padmè, his jaw locking tightly as he lifted his head. He still refused to meet the eyes of his good friend, his shoulder raising quickly and making Obi-Wan’s hand fall off it. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered before walking forward and leaving the older man behind with a worried look.

His strides were quick, his chest heavy with a rage he had never felt before as he opened the door to his room with a rough shove. 

Protecting Padmè? The woman he had not spoken to since the night you left him? Putting his life on the line for the person who was the reason he hadn’t been happy in weeks? The one who helped him destroy the best thing in his life?

Not a chance.

Anakin’s shoulders tensed up as the door slammed shut behind him, his eyes flickering all over the near-empty room. 

He wasn’t as in control as he thought he was, and that much was obvious when he turned the entire place upside down a mere ten minutes after you walked out the door. 

He couldn’t help it, everything reminded him of you.

The thought of staying in this room that had always meant to shield you from the harsh reality by himself was one that kept him up at night. The dark circles that had formed under his eyes the day after you left him had become a seemingly permanent addition to his appearance. 

He almost didn’t recognise himself when he first noticed the deep and dark marks that shadowed his face. He assumed they’re from the lack of sleep he was getting, or not getting. 

He couldn’t sleep without you. He found that out pretty quickly.

After he had finished destroying every piece of furniture in the communal area of the room, he felt his bones ache with exhaustion. His eyes were burning and his hand was sore from throwing anything it could grab a hold of. Yet, as he made his way to the bed, the same one he had been holding you on - if only for a couple of seconds that he wished he could have back - only minutes prior, he discovered that he couldn’t fall asleep. 

His mind wouldn’t turn off, past memories with you flashing behind his eyes at a rapid pace. As he tried to get his body to relax and succumb to the darkness, he had no control over the way his hand twitched in the direction in which you always were, right beside him. Your side of the bed was cold, yet another thing he wasn’t used to as you were always there, for him to hold, for him to hide with. 

Now, three weeks later, and he is no better. He had gotten about five hours of sleep in total during the time he spent away from you, and it wasn’t something he had a say in. 

He wasn’t able to sleep in the bed, that much was obvious after his first failed attempt. After he rummaged through the dresser and grabbed onto one of your robes, he held onto the fabric with both hands. His face buried in it as he fell to the floor, his back pressed to the end of the bed. 

He fell asleep a few minutes after that, a death grip on your robe - one of the few things he had left of you. When he awoke half an hour later, he was met with the still dark sky and a pain in his lower back. 

It didn’t take him long to start tearing apart that dresser.

The few times he fell asleep after that were at random. 

While waiting for Obi-Wan to show up for a day of training, Anakin had fallen asleep against the wall of the meditation room. He was woken up an hour later by another Jedi who looked at him with concern and a bit of pity, something Anakin loathed. 

His sleep schedule consisted of quick naps in the most bizarre places, one being behind the wheel of his ship - that one nearly ended in a fatality for both him and Obi-Wan. Seeing as he was supposed to be the best pilot in all the galaxy, Anakin took Obi-Wan’s lecture without trying to defend himself as he didn’t even know what was wrong with him.

His sleep state wasn’t even a safe space. He had one dream about you, one where you came back and you held him and kissed him and told him everything he needed and had been desperate to hear.

The rest were nightmares. Or nothing at all. A void. 

Anakin felt like a ghost, a shell of who he used to be. 

He wasn’t happy, wasn’t consumed with excitement whenever he was set to fly, wasn’t filled with a sense of pride whenever he successfully completed a quick mission. 

He felt like his body was betraying him, and the fact that he hadn’t seen even a glimpse of you since you left didn’t help at all.

The temple was big, but he didn’t realise it was massive enough to keep you hidden from him for three weeks.

Three weeks.

Nearly four without you.

Anakin was sure that when the one month mark hit, his body would no longer function at his control. It hardly was now, so he was not looking forward to seeing how he would be in a week from now.

He turns right and enters the bedroom, everything untouched with the exception of the broken dresser beside the door. His eyes narrowed on the bed and he felt, what had to be, the hundredth sharp stab that pierced his heart in the past few weeks. 

-

“I’m nervous,” you nearly whispered, your hands running over Anakin’s bare shoulders. A single candle was lit and placed on the nightstand a couple feet from where his body hovered over yours on the bed. The flicker of orange made him look so innocent, so young and carefree, a sight you quickly decided was a blessing to see. “Will it hurt?”

Anakin leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, his arms tightening around your frame. “Maybe for a bit,” he murmured against your skin. “We don’t have to do this tonight. I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

You shake your head, your nose brushing against his as you did so. “I want to do this, I promise,” your words are quiet and the only sound that fills the dark room. It was just you and him, the outside world blocked by a door and the curtains that covered the window. You had never felt more safe. “I need this. We need this.”

It was true. 

Anakin would be sent away the following morning on what would be his longest absence yet. While you had grown used to his day long missions, this one was said to be no less than a couple weeks. He had never spent that long away from you and he wasn’t coping that well with the thought of leaving you behind. 

The decision to do this tonight was mutual. 

He needed something to hold onto until he returned to you, and you needed the feeling of being completely loved and wanted to get you through the weeks you’d spend without him. 

Anakin nodded, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “Only for a bit,” he said again before the distance was closed once more.

-

Anakin felt the last good memory slip away from him and his eyes darkened, an ache in his jaw as he clenched it again. 

He was going to do the mission; the one where they would be counting on him to keep Padmè out of harm’s way and protect her with his life. 

However, what they didn’t know was that Anakin was now treating this as a form of justice, or, in other words, an assassination.

-

“Y/n,” Obi-Wan greeted as he entered the meditation room. “I’ve finally found you.”

His smile was kind but told you that he wasn’t here to talk about anything good. You return the smile as best as you could, sitting up straighter and holding eye contact with him. “Master,” you say back, brows furrowing when the smile was replaced with a frown. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The man nodded, his fingers tugging on the sleeve of his shirt in a way that showed he was nervous but was trying to hide it. “It’s Anakin Skywalker,” he said and you quickly looked away. “Something is troubling him.”

Your eyes focus on the floor as you fight the urge to cry in front of Obi-Wan. It would give away the very real fact that you were well aware of what Anakin was going through, and the fact you were in a forbidden relationship with the Jedi. 

Anakin.

You hadn’t heard his name in weeks, cutting off any communication with him and anyone affiliated with him, including the very man standing in front of you. Guilt creeped into you, the same guilt that had plagued you since the moment you left the crying man by himself in the room you no longer felt at home in. 

The weeks you spent without the man you loved were brutal. 

You had been struck with an overwhelming feeling of guilt and you carried it with you every day. Your heart broke every time you heard the hushed whispers of fellow Jedi about how the supposed ‘Chosen One’ was failing to do the simplest of tasks and had become a weak version of himself. One that didn’t show up to important meetings, didn’t give his all on quick and easy missions, and looked like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. 

The one who looked on the verge of falling to the dark side.

You didn’t want to think about that last one, despite the numerous times you’ve heard it be brought up. Never did you ever think Anakin would become the worst version of himself, become a person he was so far from and forget about everything that made him the powerful Jedi he had been for so long now. 

There was no way it was because of you and how you left things. How could it? How could you mean so much to someone that they’d forget all they worked for, fought for, bled for, just because you were no longer a constant in their life?

It just didn’t make sense to you, but then again, the fact that you even had a sliver of Anakin Skywalker in the first place didn’t make a whole lot of sense, either. 

He was too good for you, too kind and caring and someone who deserved the world. Something you couldn’t give him, no matter how much you wanted to. 

You wanted to give him any and everything he asked for and more, but you couldn’t. And you would never be able to. 

You couldn’t even give yourself the time of day and dedication needed to progress in your life, so how could you possibly help Anakin in any way?

The question had you looking up and meeting the eyes of Obi-Wan once again. “What does that have to do with you looking for me?”

“If I recall correctly, you and Anakin were quite close not too long ago,” he said and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat and how you wanted to point out just how close the two of you had been. “Is that right?”

You nodded quickly, eyes focusing on the wall behind him. “We were, but not anymore,”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Obi-Wan gave you a look of pity before he continued, “Anakin is a good person, someone who I find myself looking up to. I’m afraid something has happened….something that could lead to his demise.”

That made you stand up, your brows pressing together as you stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

The man hesitated before swallowing harshly. “I’ve been observing him and I’m worried about what I’ve seen so far. He hasn’t been sleeping or focusing. Just this morning I found him against a wall, unable to hold himself up,” he says. “He wouldn’t look me in the eye. I can’t help but fear the worst.”

Your eyes flicker between his. “What are you saying?”

You share a look before he places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m afraid we’re losing him to something he should have never seen or felt,”

-

“Anakin!” Your hand turned the doorknob before you could even think about knocking first. Stepping into the room, you let out a quiet gasp at the sight of destruction. Not a single thing was how you left it, not even the side of the door that faced the inside of the room. It was dented and beaten in, hints of blood here and there that told you exactly what had happened to the wood. 

You stumble your way through the now unfamiliar room and head straight towards the bedroom, where you’re met with a demolished dresser. The rest of the room seemed untouched and you bent down to pick up one of your shirts, fisting the material in your hand. The rest of your clothing was thrown around the floor, some stuck on the corner of the bed that looked like it hadn’t been slept in since you left.

Dropping the shirt, you turn around after coming to the conclusion that the room was empty. You stand outside the door that led to the bathroom, your hand hovering over the doorknob. 

He had to be in there, and that thought had your heart beating rapidly. 

With a firm twist, your fingers press against the door and push. 

Standing in front of the mirror was Anakin, his eyes glossy and staring at his reflection. His shoulders were stiff, his whole body tense in a way that had you swallowing nervously. His hands gripped the marbled countertop tightly, his knuckles turning a few shades lighter as heavy pants left his mouth.

Pushing back a small ounce of uncertainty, you step into the room. He must have been deep in thought as he didn’t notice the door open or your smaller figure enter the room. You were afraid to ask what was going on in that pretty head of his. It had to be something awful to have him this out of it. 

“Anakin,” You say his name quietly, almost to the point of it being inaudible. 

But he heard you. Whatever daydream he was in was ripped away the second your voice hit his ears. His eyes moved from his own and met yours in the reflection, the crease in his brow softening as a shaky breath left his lips. The feeling of relief was short-lived. “You’re not real,” he muttered, not giving you a second glance as his eyes went back to being stone cold. 

It was then when you realised how much you truly meant to the poor boy. You really had no idea that you, of all people, could mean this much to someone, let alone the perfection that is Anakin. 

He was so messed up to the point where he didn’t even believe he was actually seeing you. 

You felt your heart break all over again. “What have I done to you?” You ask, holding back a dry sob as you take a daring step closer. “Anakin…it’s me.”

He only shook his head, his chin tilting downwards as he muttered something under his breath. 

You blink back a tear or two as you cross the room, your hand tugging on his arm. “Look at me,” you nearly cry out, your grip making him turn slightly. His eyes left the mirror and landed on you. The blue orbs softened just a bit and you watched as what seemed to be a million thoughts ran through his head. You reach up and caress the side of his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheekbone as well as the scar that graced his skin. “Look at me.”

The furrow in his brow faded away as his hands left the counter, his body fully turning to face yours. “Y/n,” he whispered, his hand reaching up to wrap around your wrist as he leaned into your touch. 

You let out a quiet hum to let him know that was really you and that you were here, with him. “I’m so sorry,” you say quietly, your thumb continuing to stroke his face while his stroked the skin of your wrist.

His eyes were still glossy and his whole being still seemed as if it was far away. Your other hand grasped his shoulder as you stepped closer, trying to think of what to do to get him to fully come back. 

A delirious grin formed on his lips as he looked at you, still not believing you were actually there. “I missed you,” he murmured, his eyes flickering all over your face before he began to turn back towards the mirror. 

You placed both your hands on his face and pulled him away from whatever trance the mirror held over him. Tugging his head down, you press your forehead against his. “I’m here,” you whisper, reaching one hand down to grab his and place it on your waist. “I’m here and I’m so sorry.”

 Anakin furrowed his brows again, his head shaking as his gloved hand tightened its grip on you. “It’s not…you’re not-”

“I am,” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as if it’ll help stop the love of your life from turning on everything he had going for him. You weren’t sure what to do at this point. Anakin was in denial, seemingly stuck in a very fragile state and balancing on a very thin edge of becoming something he swore he wouldn’t. A tear slips down your face as you brush your nose against his, an act you’ve done too many times to count. “Please….come back to me.”

Whatever had a hold on his mind seemed to let go as you said the words he had been craving to hear, the same ones you murmured to him in the first and only dream he had about you since you left - the same ones he said to you.

He pulled back just slightly, his eyes staring into yours as his face relaxed for the first time in nearly a month. His lip quivered and his eyes filled with unshed tears, his hand that wasn’t on your waist coming up to grip the back of your neck as he pulled you into him.

You wrapped your arms around him as your face pressed against his chest, a sigh of relief and desperation leaving both of you. 

“Angel,” the name falls easily from his lips, his arms tightening around you as if you would disappear at any given second - and he’d be alone again. “You’ve come back to me.”

“I never should have left you,” you say back, your voice muffled due to the sobs you were holding back. “I’m so sorry, Anakin. Please, forgive me.”

His hand slides upwards to cradle the back of your head as he quietly hushes you. “It’s okay, my love,” he says quietly, his mind becoming foggy at the fact that he had you back in his arms. “You’re okay.” He presses his lips to the side of your head, his hand refraining from pulling you back in when he feels you push against him.

“I’m not,” you shake your head, your hands fisting his shirt. “I haven’t been. I feel so bad, Anakin. I hate that I hurt you. The guilt has been eating me alive, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.”

Your sweet voice was music to his ears and he brought his hand around to the front of your head, where his thumb brushes away your tears as he quiets you once more. “It’s alright, angel,” he says, pulling you close once again. “We’ve found each other again, there’s nothing to be sorry for. We’re okay.”

Before you could nod in agreement, his lips pressed to yours in a gentle yet firm kiss. The action made his own tears fall as he closed his eyes, begging to anyone listening that you’d still be there when he opened them again. “I love you,” you mumbled when you pulled away, your forehead resting against his cheek. “So much.”

“I love you,” he says in return, holding you close and inhaling the scent that only belonged to you - the scent that made him dizzy. “Take me back.” Let me live again.

You nod quickly, leaning up to kiss him again. “It’s you and me,” you say against his mouth, feeling the way his arms wrapped protectively around your middle. 

“You and me,” he agreed, kissing you once again. Forever.

-

Part 3

[feruslands]

"Daddy Feri", part 8

My sketch fanfic for @reconstructwriter and @la-sopa who inspired me to continue this long story, and for everyone who loves "Vader/Ferus" (later Anakin/Ferus)

Warnings: rape, cruelty, war crimes

Vader told the Jedi that he would smuggle him onto the Destroyer secretly, but did not tell him how. Back in the fortress on the Vjun, he drugged the prisoner with a synthetic drug that plunged the Jedi into a deep unconsciousness. He brought it packed in a standard body bag on a personal TIE and landed in the Destroyer's general hangar.

He himself established the strictest discipline and strict observance of regulations on the ship. Unfortunately, it was working against him now. He couldn't have personally dragged the Jedi's body unnoticed past all the surveillance systems. But he knew exactly and in detail how the tracking systems on his Destroyer were located, so he quickly came up with a way to trick this system.

The freezer of the Devastator morgue had long been overflowing with dead bodies, so Vader ordered his subordinates to pull all the corpses out of the freezer, spread them out on the floor of the hangar and begin the process of collecting biometric data for identification.

All the dead bodies of the rebels had to be passed through the identification procedure before being destroyed. This allowed the Imperial Security Bureauto create a database of intelligent beings who were close relatives or friends of the killed rebels. Previously, Darth Vader considered these processes a waste of time and resources, but later he was able to admit that the formed databases justified their existence. Thanks to this data, the Empire became able to calculate potential enemies in advance.

Vader silently watched as the sorting and identification of the bodies took place. As soon as a dead body was identified, it was taken to a general recycling facility. At the same time, humans and droids were busy sorting and distributing the supplies delivered.

Canisters and boxes of medicines were placed next to the place where Vader's TIE was located, forming a barrier wall. Thus, a blind spot space for surveillance systems has been formed here. Vader used the Force to pull a black bag out of the TIE and, dragging it across the floor, added its edge to the line of the dead lying on the floor. The moment Ferus's packed body lay down in one of several rows of corpses, Vader had a strange feeling. He is one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy, and at the same time he is now smuggling his bitch in a bag for sexual pleasure onto his own ship. This made him chuckle. He felt so exciting only in his youth, when he managed to fool his young and inexperienced master for some little thing. But his youth is long gone. Sadness and pain came to Vader suddenly. They quickly turned to anger at their former Master.

He hated Kenobi so much! Kenobi cut off his limbs and left him to burn alive! He turned him into a crippled cyborg!

Unexpectedly for himself, the Sith did something that he had not done once in the last nine years. Vader reached through the mental channel of his previous connection and turned to the former master.

"Look at what I've become now, Obi-Wan! I rule the galaxy. I control the Force and it serves me."

He knew that in response he would run into emptiness. He knew, but the bitterness of the emptiness at the end of the connection still covered him.

"In mockery of the Order and you, I made my slut of the most exemplary Padawan."

But the Force remained as serene and silent as ever. Wherever Kenobi was now, it was as if he didn't exist at all. Could the old man have died over the years? And why did this thought create not rage inside him, but a void devouring him from within?

"I hate you, Obi-Wan!" He shouted through the mental channel of his former connection. "You are a disgusting Master! You're nothing as a human being! You..." he shouted insults and accused him for a long time, but there was no response. The silence was crushing and splitting him apart. It was unbearable. And the Sith forced himself to immerse himself in his work. Several hundred more corpses had to be disposed of before all this unfrozen cargo started to stink badly.

"My Lord Vader, the compliance check is complete. All medicines have been received in exact quantities", one of the senior officers responsible for receiving the next batch of medicines that were delivered to the Destroyer every month specifically for the Sith reported to him.

Vader looked at him. He felt that the employee was afraid of him, as were many other subordinates. Behind him, the Sith with masterly dexterity tossed a black bag inside one of the medicine crates. The lid of the box slid down smoothly and soundlessly. That's it, it's done.

"Bring this to my quarters as usual." Vader ordered.

The Sith looked at the datapad screen, and he didn't like something very much.

"By order of the Emperor, new medical equipment should have already been delivered. Why is it not on the list? "

"I... I don't know anything about it, My Lord. We do not have any data on such a delivery…"  The officer was sweating.

"So find out it." Vader ordered. He felt a sharp irritation that the emperor had decided to delay the delivery of his new medical station. This was the thing he needed so badly right now. The Sith was well aware that this delay was just a continuation of the punishment.

Gradually, all the distributed cargo was sent to the necessary compartments and the last work was completed. Darth Vader did not want any unpleasant surprises, and therefore he did not let go of control of the situation until the carrier droids brought all the things to his chambers.

When he finally found himself alone in his apartment, surrounded by a pile of boxes of medicines and cans of bacta, he dumped the Jedi's body out of the bag, and injected him with a dose of stimulant that was supposed to make his body fully function and bring him back to consciousness. But as soon as he woke up, the Jedi could not control his body, he could not even stand on his feet.

"Weakling", Vader thought contemptuously. Such a dose of stimulant brought him back to working condition after much more severe injuries. He wasn't going to send the Jedi to the medical droids, otherwise he would have had to mess with erasing their memories. Without giving him time to recover, Vader roughly grabbed him by the collar and dragged him across the floor to the place where the secret cell was located. He removed the wall panel and opened a small hole located at the bottom of the wall, which was more suitable for the passage of a pet rather than a human.

"I'll visit you later, bitch," Vader promised with a nasty grin, shoving the Jedi into a cramped cell.

He pushed a bag with a needle and an intravenous feeding wire into the cell with his foot, and blocked the passage to cut off the prisoner from the outside world.

**

Once in the cell, Olin felt as if he had been walled up in the walls. The ceiling was so low that he couldn't even stand up to his full height. Ferus settled down on the floor. He couldn't let go of restless thoughts about Leia. He didn't want to think about the horror the little girl went through when she saw Vader packing him in a bag.

He was afraid for her. Anything could happen while Leia was there alone. Vader, of course, considered his fortress impregnable. But the Sith had an overblown ego about everything. And what if the fortress is attacked, precisely at the moment of the owner's absence? Ferus had no idea how long this shitty assignment of Vader's would take, and that ignorance tormented him.

The main thing is not to die here. But his condition left much to be desired.

Exhausted by anxious thoughts, the Jedi fell into a dream filled with a kaleidoscope of nightmares. He dreamed of the Bast Castle, which was washed away by acid rains. He realized with horror that the ruins of the fortress had buried his daughter under the slabs. Ferus rushed forward, but saw only a grinning cyborg in front of him. At some point, his dream changed, and instead of Vader, the Jedi saw his former home, Bellassa. He lived there a long time ago, before he came to Alderaan. His dream was full of gloomy anxiety, but he did not know why. The streets of his hometown looked calm, quiet, but completely deserted. Ferus felt that something terrible and irreparable had happened here. How could it be otherwise? After all, the Sith have always acted meanly and cruelly. Whatever crime Vader had committed, it was just his normal, day-to-day job while he served Palpatine. Suddenly, the Emperor appeared in front of Ferus, smiling insanely. This ugly wrinkled old man stretched out his arms to strike him with lightning bolts.

Olin was abruptly awakened by the sound of the passage opening into the cell. Vader certainly didn't care about the Jedi's moral anguish or his physical discomfort.

The Sith was ready to act harshly if the prisoner tried to resist. But the prisoner was in a state where he didn't quite understand where he was, what time of day it was, and wasn't everything happening a dream? Due to the prolonged lack of medical care, the Jedi's brain was working very slowly. He looked blank and sick.

Ferus saw that Vader was crawling into his cell like a predatory alligator into a cage for prey. It seemed that the vile ghost of the Dark Side was spreading far ahead of its master.

"I'm going to fuck you," Vader told him this fact. Ferus blinked uncomprehendingly. Vader enjoyed watching the stupid confusion flash across the Jedi's face. What was the fool waiting for? That he climbs into this kennel to read romantic poems aloud to him?

Vader's foot slipped and he landed on his stomach. He swore. Olin didn't know the expletive, but he recognized one of the dialects of the Hutt language. So Vader spent his youth in Hutt Space? Was that where Palpatine raised his apprentices in secret? And in the end, Vader turned out to be the most capable student and just killed all the competitors in some monstrously cruel test, but he himself suffered terrible injuries? It seemed like the truth. At least Vader had the manners and characteristic brutality of a savage bandit on the edge of the galaxy, and Hutt space had been a stronghold for all sorts of assorted scum for decades.

But Vader's Force was really incredibly huge. Ferus's potential for Force sensitivity was only negligible compared to the Sith.

He was distracted from such thoughts by Vader, who grabbed the prisoner by the ankle with a Force's tentacle and dragged him across the floor by Force, pulling him to himself.

Vader took off only the part of his armor that covered his groin area.

"You've missed me already, haven't you, slag?" Vader whispered in his ear as he swung his leg over the prisoner's body and leaned on top of him.

Vader stank abominably of a mixture of sweat, burnt electronics and metal, medicinal mixtures and rotting flesh. And the Jedi felts this blend of stench especially vividly in such a cramped, stuffy cell.

The Sith puffed over him with pleasure, like a lustful animal, while he pounded his dick into him.

After the rape, Vader carefully wiped jedi's blood and his own sperm from his dick with prisoner's pants. Now this nerd would have to dress in a soiled rag, or stay lying here with his bare ass, and for some reason Vader had no doubt that this buttfucked bitch would choose.

"Here you go," Vader grinned and threw a wad of soiled pants at the prisoner. "it's a great rag, especially for an arrogant son of a bitch like you."

Vader didn't say anything else to him. He crawled away on all fours, crawling through the entrance hole in the wall. The Sith grunted disgustingly and breathed loudly like a snoring Hutt while he restored his breathing, which had become more frequent during sex.

"Stinking brute", Ferus thought, looking at Vader's ass crawling on the floor. He wanted to kick Vader in the ass. Despite all the damage and the presence of heavy armor, the Sith deftly crawled out of the chamber and blocked the passage.

Ferus closed his eyes, trying to distract himself with different thoughts from the pain, discomfort and his own shame that Vader had once again raped him.

Counting the past time was difficult, the Jedi had no idea when it was night and day. Sometimes he couldn't tell if he fell asleep for hours or just fell into unconsciousness for a few minutes.

Strangely enough, Vader did not come back. Ferus immersed himself in the Force, but did not feel the Sith's presence nearby, and did not hear any sounds behind the wall. There was tension in the Force. The Jedi did not know what exactly the Sith was doing, but wherever Vader was now, he was undoubtedly doing evil. Something really terrible was happening. Something compared to which rapes were just child's play. And again he couldn't do anything. Neither to prevent Vader's actions, nor just to help himself. Nothing.

**

There was complete chaos on Bellassa and it required Vader's direct intervention.

When the Sith appeared on the surface of the planet, he felt a surge of strength and immediately set to work zealously. The Bellassians were unwilling to acknowledge the emperor's authority and serve him. The workers did not want to work in the Imperial factories and maintain the headquarters. Such a cohesiveness of beings disloyal to the emperor could become dangerous. They really believed that the Empire would leave their planet if they resisted hard enough.

Vader personally eliminated the dissenters. But it was ineffective. The rebels hid well and often made sorties, after which they deftly hid in shelters. Every Bellassian considered it his duty to help anyone who fought against the Empire.

For a moment, Vader found it tedious, but the Bellassians still acted smoothly and defiantly. There were constant armed clashes in the city with stormtroopers patrolling the streets.

Vader understood that as soon as his fleet left the planet, the rebels would immediately come out of their shelters and start interfering with the work of the imperial factories again. However, they didn't hesitate to harm right under his nose. It was necessary to somehow suppress their will and discourage them from fighting for a long time.

Mass arrest of the rebels could have solved the issue, but Vader had a slightly different solution. Fortunately, he had a large enough army to stage massive raids all over the city. But the rebels were not the target of the capture. Vader ordered all the children from the streets of the city to be taken hostage. Stormtroopers broke into residential buildings to forcibly take children and hold them at the central headquarters until the local rebels surrendered and the workers stopped rioting and went to work in factories.

After these demands were made, the situation changed dramatically in just a few days. Because of the captured children, the Bellassians plunged into terrible fear and lost their fortitude. The Empire demanded that impeccable order be established in the city, and the local rebel leaders stopped armed uprisings and bowed to the imperial authority. And the Bellassians, broken by intense expectation, finally laid down their arms. Local workers began to go out to work in factories. They were ready to obey the Emperor if their children were returned to them. The Sith was surprised that it was possible to turn the situation in favor of the Empire so quickly.

And feeling the moral defeat of the townspeople, Vader ordered the release of the little hostages. Not out of mercy, but simply because he saw no point in holding them any longer.

The children returned to their families and after that the Bellassians completely surrendered and submitted to the empire. The workers ended the riots and went to work in the Imperial Factories. Civilians began servicing the imperial headquarters. The Bellassians were happy that their children had returned home alive, but for this they had to bow before the Emperor.

The Empire gained an easy victory and Vader's fleet departed.

The Devastator was flying in hyperspace when Vader received a call from Palpatine.

"You pleasantly surprised me, Darth Vader," Sidious's wrinkled snout stretched into a wide smile. "Strategic calculation has never been your advantage before. But I have to admit that this time, your idea of the weakness of the Bellassians was absolutely correct. A simple order to capture the children led us to complete victory in just a few days. And I already expected that they would fight to the point of complete extermination, but you were able to subdue them so easily! They really believed that we would bring their children back alive. It was very pleasant to break the will of the population of an entire city, wasn't it, my friend? "

"Yes, my Master."

"Everything that followed was tough, but very effective. Let our enemies be in constant fear of us."

"I am glad to serve you, Master. "

Satisfied with his apprentice, Sidious cut the connection.

Vader remained standing on the Destroyer's command bridge. For a while, the Sith stared at the bright blue stripes of hyperspace. He requested a report on the Bellassa case, and after reviewing the data, he called a senior officer to him.

"It says here that each captured 'unit' was injected on the final day of captivity for 'delayed death.'" Vader pointed to the datapad.

"Yes, sir. All the children of the rebels will die."

"I didn't ask you about their fate. I'm interested in who gave the order to act this way behind my back?" He demanded.

"Emperor Palpatine has given the order, My Lord."

"You are dismissed."

Darth Vader understood everything. Sidious did not cancel his order, he only refined this order, brought it to perfection, teaching a lesson to both the rebellious planet and his apprentice.

And with this order, Palpatine destroyed most of the younger generation of the capital of Bellassa.

Vader remembered the Master's recent words. From abstract reasoning, it so masterfully materialized into reality.

"When commanding everything, you must know how to maintain your power. Sometimes it is better to punish slaves for disobedience one more time, even when the slaves' will has already been broken and they agree to obey. Deferred punishment for insubordination, like an unexpected blow, is a wonderful way to cultivate obedience in them."

Vader closed the report summary on his datapad. This means that the captured children returned home in the morning to their parents, who were waiting for them so much that for this they rejected their principles and obeyed the will of the emperor, but by evening the counting of sudden deaths of children will begin. And so it will be until every single one of them dies.

Vader wasn't worried about the fate of the Bellassian children. He was glad that the task was completed so quickly, and he was already moving towards the Vjun.

He thought of the Bellassian who was currently imprisoned in his apartment. Did he want to make Ferus experience the same thing that the parents of the Bellassian children would experience?

Probably not. Fortunately, Vader had plenty of other ways to hurt him. Still, Sidious had taught him something today. Mercy is a weakness.

[antianakin]

I hope you don’t mind me asking—but I have GOT to hear your thoughts on the newest Acolyte episode having the line that basically indirectly blames the Jedi for their own genocide. Like—it’s not OUTRIGHT—but it’s still so obviously blatant that’s what the showrunner was winking and nudging at to the SW audience that hates the Jedi. 😭💔🤦‍♀️

It was disgusting, to be honest. 😒

I'm not watching the show, so I just found a post that talked about the line and to be honest, it's no worse than what we've been getting in so much other media these days. The Ahsoka show had Ahsoka condemn the Jedi for "failing" because they wouldn't train literally everyone to wield the Force, indirectly blaming them for what happened to them while directly exonerating Anakin for betraying them and murdering their children by claiming it was just "destiny" and done "for love". The Ahsoka show also had a fallen Jedi character claim he only missed "the idea of" the Jedi, but that the "truth" of them was that they were weak and had no future and that they were just part of an endless cycle of violence that made them not really any different to the Sith. Jedi: Fallen Order has a fallen Jedi character who condemns the Jedi for having been fallen " long before the Purge. Stifled by tradition. Deafened by our past glories." Jedi: Survivor had a fallen High Republic Jedi character condemn the Jedi for allowing the Empire to rise and calls them failures.

So this is so far from the first time the Jedi have gotten blamed for their own genocide recently. It's not even the first time we've heard this kind of condemnation from a High Republic character. Headland stated from the beginning that the whole point of this show was to criticize the Jedi and show the how things "went wrong" in order for them to become the Prequels Jedi, which means it's not at all shocking that there's a pretty explicit implication about the Jedi ultimately being responsible for their own genocide. That's always been her agenda, her ultimate theme and message with this story. Nothing about this is new or unique or shocking at all. It's a little disappointing that this is what Star Wars is becoming, but it's not ALL that Star Wars is becoming.

We still have the Obi-Wan Kenobi show, which made sure to place the blame squarely where it belonged and had a character whose entire motivation was grief over the deaths of the Jedi. We have Visions, which, despite including stories written by almost 20 separate teams from different countries, ALWAYS understands who the good guys and bad guys are in Star Wars and regularly includes stories that resonate with Lucas's actual themes from his films (they're also generally just exquisitely made short stories with some beautiful animation). And we have shows like Andor which mostly just ignores the Jedi entirely because they aren't relevant to Cassian's story and because it's trying to tell the story from a different perspective, but it follows the exact same themes as Lucas's original films did and is a beautiful follow-up to some of the themes that existed with the Prequels Jedi.

And while things like Rebels, Jedi: Fallen Order, and Jedi: Survivor have their moments of Jedi criticism, they're VERY small and the main characters are still Jedi who are incredibly proud of BEING Jedi and have to go through all the same tests that any Jedi would've gone through and they come out the other end as wonderful, selfless, compassionate Jedi. There's themes of having to let go of those you love (whether through death or just relationships drifting apart or people needing to go their own way for a while even if it means leaving you behind), of having to let go of your anger and fear before it consumes you and turns you into the monster you seek to destroy, and of mercy and acceptance and understanding being central to healing the galaxy's wounds. So while these stories aren't 100% Jedi criticism free, they are probably 99% Jedi positive and at most 1% Jedi critical.

So as frustrating as it is that Jedi criticism has become so common that there is an ENTIRE SHOW built around it as a foundation, it's also so so easy to disregard it and ignore it if you want to. The Acolyte is, fortunately, not all that connected to the main storylines. You do not need The Acolyte in order to understand or enjoy a lot of the rest of the story. You can completely ignore The Acolyte and pretend it doesn't exist and it will change NOTHING. Go rewatch The Obi-Wan Kenobi show, or Visions, or Andor and remember how good Star Wars can be when it's written by someone who CARES about the story and the message it was always supposed to send to people.

[edgeofn1ght]

all you conceal, let out: ch. 1

After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)

alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead

Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him – 

“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto. 

Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson. 

If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.

But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.

As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.

‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone. 

Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky. 

So where the hell was here? 

Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life. 

He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole. 

He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?

Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway. 

As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam. 

Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either. 

"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt. 

He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night. 

But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew. 

A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer.  “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try. 

Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.

Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then – 

Nothing more.

For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.

Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula. 

When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head.  But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.

Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan. 

Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again. 

So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved. 

Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that. 

And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize. 

He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him.  Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped. 

"Ah, you're awake."

Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly. 

“Take it easy!” The voice warned. 

He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive . 

He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose. 

He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.

He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest. 

"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.  

Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side. 

"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there. 

Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"

Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."

"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"

Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down. 

Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"

"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."

This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan. 

Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.

Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up. 

"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"

"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so. 

Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back. 

"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.  

“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled. 

“You won’t though.”

Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither. 

Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed. 

“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.

Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan. 

But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.  

In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer. 

Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket. 

“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen. 

This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow. 

Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved. 

The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber. 

Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again. 

He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden. 

Just like in his dream.

His heart rate picked up again. 

Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream? 

Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream. 

He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile. 

“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face. 

“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it. 

They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.

Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”

As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”

“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look. 

Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.

But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?

He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction. 

Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."

"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth. 

Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?" 

“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”

Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?” 

"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."

Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"

Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.

"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.

Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said. 

He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.” 

"Anakin," Ben repeated softly. 

He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him. 

After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."

Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”  

Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"

"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.

Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why. 

"And what of the war?" 

"What war?"

“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"

Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.” 

Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."

Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing. 

He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong. 

Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."

Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"

"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen. 

He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow. 

If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.

Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.

[tennessoui]

For the fake fic title “One for the Money Two For the Show (I was never ready so I watch you go)” because Star Wars is just in my opinion so Taylor Swift coded

Jedi Knight Anakin has been attending the opera with Palpatine since he first came to Coruscant. He really, really hates the opera, but it’s made significantly better when there’s an accidental shortage of seats and the Chancellor’s box gets an unexpected (and unwelcome, if you ask Palpatine) guest in the form of visiting dignitary/king from Stewjon, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Anakin is absolutely enthralled. He’s in love. He has forgotten Palpatine even exists. He wants to be in King Kenobi’s lap by the second act. He has stars in his eyes. His hand is still warm from when they shook hands. Kenobi asks which has been his favorite opera. Anakin can’t remember the name of a single opera but bullshits his way through an impressive answer.

Palpatine is gagging in the background. His hard work over the years trying to get anakin to fall is being ruined before his eyes. Anakin has never seemed so Light. It’s disgusting. Palpatine needs to sabotage this now. He remarks that he never thought anakin truly appreciated the coruscanti opera. Anakin blushes all red. Kenobi tells him he would be welcome to come to Stewjon to see their own performers, as he’s quite fond of them—of course, Kenobi’s palace is in Colsteph, the capital city, and the cultural hub of Stewjon is really Olijon, further south, but if Anakin ever found his way to the planet, perhaps he could do a trip around their biggest cities and countrysides…..

anyway anakin is in love by the end of the night when they go their separate ways, and King Kenobi requests his presence on and off for the entire week he is on Coruscant, except neither of them acts on their attraction because Kenobi thinks Jedi are celibate and Anakin thinks Kenobi isn’t interested

Kenobi goes back to Stewjon and Palpatine at least is relieved, until he is faced with a sulking Anakin who doesn’t want to go to the opera or fancy restaurants or hang out with him at all because it’s too painful and reminds him of King Kenobi too much

(which means, with great reluctance, Palpatine has to engineer a situation where the king and Anakin meet again — after he informs King Kenobi that actually, yes. Jedi fuck. Galaxy’s most painful conversation. King Kenobi now thinks Palpatine knows Jedi fuck because anakin is his sugar baby or something. King kenobi is displeased and believes this to be rather predatory and quietly gets his friends in the Senate to open an investigation into Palpatine’s behavior)

context: people sent me made-up fic titles and I’m telling them what I would write to go with the title

[merrysithmas]

If pressed to choose, who do you think Anakin would choose between Obi-Wan and Padmé? Do you think that choice would change depending on the circumstances?

Hands down Obi-wan. Even if you don't ship them, even platonically this is pretty much canon.

And I say this because that's literally WHAT he was doing by remaining in the Jedi Order (which he had severe issues with). Sure, Anakin loved the heroism and was beholden to the promise made to his mother that he would remain in the Order. And yes, he truly was a good person who valued doing good and his Jedi training -- however, it is undeniable that interwoven in ALL those things was... Obi-wan.

Obi-wan who was his cogeneral in the Clone Wars, the two of them side-by-side known as the faces of the Front.

Obi-wan who promised to train him so he could fulfill his mother's wish.

Obi-wan who seemed to so easily exemplify the great Jedi mediators he knew he could never be.

Obi-wan who was essentially Anakin's walking-talking moral compass.

Anakin didn't leave, despite his marriage, despite his children, despite his deepening disgust with the Order because of Obi-wan (and Ahsoka).

Anakin loved being a Jedi but what he loved more was being a Jedi with his Jedi family (Obi and Soka).

This was a major source of mental contention for him - choosing between these two "families" he created in equal but opposite worlds. His marriage to Padme, who was directly linked to his mother's death (she was the only one who knew he murdered the Tuskens, so the only one he felt forgiveness with) and so he refused to let go of her. He saw Padme as a Judge of the moral fortitude of his curated jedi knight Image. If Padme, stalwart guardian of the lawful Senate, forgave him for this atrocious crime - then surely he wasn't a monster.

And on the other hand was his "marriage" to Obi-wan, an uncommon war-borne partnership resulting in the Padawan they both trained and the war they bore on their backs. Their closeness was highly unusual for the Order - but the Order couldnt do much about it given their reliance on them as generals and the chaotic state of the Republic. A lot of oversight seems to have fallen away, and I'm sure a part of all those on the Front felt closer to their compatriots and the clones than the Council comfortable in Coruscant, as they trudged tirelessly and endlessly through distant worlds fighting tooth and nail in the trenches.

If pressed to choose, which he essentially was (and Sidious manipulated his years-long strife) he would pick Obi-wan. He proved this by not leaving - even though by all accounts he should have and simply started his own Order. Something was keeping him there and it wasn't just the war or the heroics - Anakin couldn't leave Obi-wan.

There are numerous instances of your exact question in canon such as in Stover's novel where Anakin ponders if he loves Obiwan "more than his wife" at Sidious' pressing. Also the Son on Mortis revealing himself in the image of Anakin's mother Shmi and saying that Padme was not his true love but essentially a lie -- a pretty damn harsh summation put to screen if you ask me.

Anakin struggled with the choice between Obi-wan and Padme (and what they represented) for YEARS til the very end at Mustafar, when finally, at his mental breaking point - he chose himself.

And Sidious was counting on that.

[galactic-rhea]

never thought about the vader + obiwan dynamic like that but damn. kind vibe. consider !! (or dont ur decision) if we were to tentatively tie it into the pre-existing canon that instead of the "vader wants to kill obiwan because he blames him and is therefore obsessed with killing him" it could be more. vader is obsessed with kill obiwan BECAUSE of his self-hatred and self-disgust. obiwan (and ahsoka. and rex. and luke and-) is one of the last pieces of Anakin Skywalker alive. he's a living reminder of that pain and who vader couldve been. so the obsession is less With obiwan, then with himself and it turns into this grotesque self-harming violence and obiwan is being sucked into by association. i could also see this applying to vader's fights with ahsoka and luke (the first one not the second). peace and love ur thoughts and art are golden ❤️

Woah thank you! <3

I haven't watched Rebels yet, so I have no idea how the Ahsoka vs Vader fight went (which is why I avoid so hard gifsets with Ahsoka and Anakin 😂😂) but it could be pretty accurate, I suppose!

With Vader, I usually remain on the notion that he's pretty much a husk of Anakin, he lacks any passion at all, like sure he's angry and furious most of the time, and annoyed, but it's like, instead of raging burning fury, it burns like how ice burns, is old and calculated and rootten and it leaves you numb to everything.

In the original trilogy he doesn't seem to deny thaaaaaat hard being Anakin, I mean he does, but like he's just so...idk, he's so "meh" about everything, nothing matters, like instead of going "THAT NAME MEANS NOTHING TO ME ANYMOREEEEEE!!!!" it's more like "-takes away Luke's lightsaber- That name means nothing to me anymore y'know."

"then my father is truly dead"

"ah"

Like he's almost bored, in fact when he kills Obi-Wan he does look almost bored like "wow, this is a lame fight, I'll end it quickly old master" and then he stomps on the robes when Obi-Wan's corpse disappear,,,,like a cat trying to catch a light pointer, and then he just leaves like "whatever idc why this body is gone, i've seen weirder stuff" NKJDFSNJDFSSD

He doesn't even care enough about his self-hatred to like, you know, do something about himself, or like, even kill himself because Palpatine probably doesn't let him die and because he believes he deserves the hell he lives him. He only mostly moves to carry on Palpatine's orders.

So that's mostly what I go by with him, if he's obssesed about anything, is when he learns about Luke, probably. If he wanted to rid off everything about 'anakin skywalker', you would think he wouldn't care about Luke that much because Luke very proudly takes on the name Skywalker (i would say agressively and stubbornly 😆) and he would rather not aknowledge anything about Padmé or why he turned to the dark side, which he probably doesn't admit outwardly, and probably tells himself he doesn't care, but internally is the very reason he hates himself.

He also kept Ahsoka's lightsaber, which, again, is he reaaally wanted to destroy everything that remained of his old life wouldn't fit (again, I haven't watched Rebels so idk if that's brought up in their fight)

He wanted to kill Obi-Wan mostly out of the fact he...kills anything opposing the empire, and the jedi are forbidden now and "I suppose I should want revenge and he's here now".

But yeah, I could see an AU where he does want to hunt down Obi-Wan and it's just an attempt to end what's left of Anakin, and feeling really empty and unchanged if he believes Obi-Wan dead (or actually manages to kill him before ANH timeline). Like there's just quiet silence, and he still feels the same, Anakin's still hasn't been destroyed, and then goes back to his usual misererable apathy.

[notthestarwar]

Fox

Fox is a fun one! So Fox obviously is barely in canon, so he's a blank slate really. But here's some of how I see him.

Cody

Boba

Kix

Obi Wan

Anakin (1 2 3 4 5)

Jango (1 2 3 4 5 6)

Clones

Is Jango a father to the clones

I have a hc that Fox really hates himself, he's convinced that Jango had to be some kind of evil to do what he did, and he's sure that exists in him too. He's terrified of himself. He doesn't want to become Jango but he's sure he will and there's nothing he can do to prevent that. He's completely wrong of course, you can't be born evil and besides he's nothing like Jango but it's a case of if you look for something, you'll find it. He loves his brothers intensely and his only reason for living is to save them from his life. I think he doesn't really show that love though. His self hatred just results in this utter apathy for everything.

He wants to be loved pretty intensely but he doesn't think he deserves it, so he's disgusted in himself for wanting it. I've seen other ppl who also think he hates himself but is aware of it, but personally I don't think of him as someone who is aware of this. He doesn't come across as someone with no self confidence, rather he comes across as someone who's a bit of a dick, and is always willing to see the worst in a situation. He's kind of cold and he's determined that the galaxy is evil and there's no doing anything about it. There's no point to it pretty much. He comes across as pretty arrogant if anything. The idea of him being vulnerable is disgusting to him, so he is just living a lie pretty much.

I like to think of Fox and Cody as two sides of the same coin.

They both are driven by this deep deep love of their brothers. They are each ultra competent. They are both willing to die for their duty to their brothers.

But where Cody is the blinding brightness of the midday sun, Fox is the sickly neon of the Coruscant underlevels, where its always night.

If Cody is the sun, burning himself up for his duty

Fox is withering away as he denies himself light, so he can spare it for his brothers

Cody feels too greatly, Fox does not allow himself to feel at all. He's apathetic

They are both scared they'll end up like Jango but they both think very different things went wrong with Jango. Cody thinks Jango had the potential to do better, but didn't try, because he'd convinced himself it wasn't necessary. He'd convinced himself he was doing the best. But Fox thinks Jango was just rotten, an evil person. There was no fixing him.

To Cody, a person's ability to change the world they live in is their greatest weakness. He is afraid of warping the world around him in his denial.

To Fox, you can not change your nature. There are some that are born bad. Jango was one of these people, Fox is one of these people. The galaxy can't be fixed. It's bad because its full of bad people in positions of power and always will be

Cody is scared of what he isn't, that he won't be enough to save them.

Fox is afraid of what he is

Again sources are from Google/ other webs so let me know if they're wrong

[werothegreat]

Okay my feed is starting to get filled with pro-Jedi cope and propaganda and I'm just like, did y'all not watch the same movies I did? Did you not see the disgust on Windu's face whenever he looked Anakin? Did you not see how coldly Yoda told Anakin to grow a pair when he came to him for emotional help? Did you not see Anakin being taken from his mother, the only person who ever showed him any affection, only to be told that the fact he missed her was going to turn him into an evil psychopath?

I get it, you've read George Lucas' interviews where he says he's a Buddhist and that a lot of the Jedi philosophy is inspired by his own personal beliefs. But looking at the actual text of the films, it seems like there's more to it than just that.

In the Original Trilogy, Obi-Wan tells us the Jedi were amazing, warriors for good, guardians of peace, the best things ever. And our hero, Luke, wants to become one. We follow him on his journey to do so, and cheer as he, at the end, rejects violence and declares himself a Jedi, "like my father before me."

But then we see the Prequels. We see what the Jedi were actually like. We see their rigidness. Their clinging to dogma. Their inability to change. Their firm belief that emotion and attachment can only lead to jealousy and destructive anger. But people don't work like that. Emotions are part of us, even fear and anger and hate. We can't just throw those away. We're not supposed to be cold, unfeeling Vulcans. Fear protects us from danger. Anger calls us to action. And hate is the only reasonable response to pure evil.

Anakin fell to the Dark Side because at every turn, the Jedi dismissed his concerns, dismissed his emotional responses, dismissed his yearning for his mother. They could have actually helped him. They could have talked to him with dignity and respect. They could have shown him any amount of warmth and comfort. Instead they were cold and distant to him, they resented him, and he grew to resent them.

And who did show him warmth and comfort and dignity? Palpatine. He swooped right in and took Anakin under his wing, and Anakin never looked back.

Western culture tells vulnerable young boys to buck up, to not cry, to not show emotion, to be strong and stoic and to not miss their mother. And those vulnerable young boys become hateful grown men who take their curdled hurt and hurt others in turn.

The Jedi failed Anakin just as much as Palpatine corrupted him. It was a joint effort.

I'm also seeing some talk that "the Light Side is the Force in balance" and don't make me laugh. The Force has two sides - Light and Dark. Ever heard of yin and yang? Darkness isn't "evil", and light isn't "good". They are two parts of the same whole. I love the first lesson Luke gives Rey in The Last Jedi - balance means both light and dark. Warmth and cold. Life and death. Peace and violence.

The Wheel of Time is a flawed series, but I really love the climax in the last book. Rand is tempted by The Dark One with a world of only light - no darkness, no evil, no death, no violence. And Rand finds it abhorrent because it is a world of no choice. No change. It's static and stagnant and there are no real people in it, only simulacra. Life cannot exist like that.

The Jedi thought that cleaving only to the light, to reject the emotions that could lead you to darkness, to be emblems of peace (while being most known for their iconic weapons, ironically), was what the Force wanted. And yet the Dark Side kept returning, whether through the Sith, or the Knights of Ren, or the Nightsisters. Because yin without yang is not balance.

Anyway I've run out of thoughts and that's probably long enough of a ramble. Keep watching The Acolyte, it's pretty great.

[dark--whisperings]

Fic Rec Friday!!! ❤️✨

There's so many FANTASTIC writers in the Star Wars fandom who put so much time and love into their work, so I thought it might be fun to celebrate their work and highlight and some of the fics that are living rent free in my head each week!

___

'Til the end, then hell and back

Author: thedunesea (@thedunesea)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing(s): Anakin Skywalker/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

��Thork here tells me you’re looking for passage to the Alderaan system." “Yes, indeed, if it’s a fast ship,” said another voice in a clipped coruscanti accent, and for a moment Anakin’s heart forgot how to beat. It can’t be, he thought. It’s impossible. But the Force was roaring in his ears — was it the Force or was it his blood? Or were they one and the same? — and, even though he had stopped trusting in it years ago, the Force had never lied to him before, not like that. Ten years after the Fall of the Republic, two parallel lines converge.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44775541/chapters/112655176

I'm absolutely not ashamed to say that I read this entire work in one sitting. I stayed up way too late and am relying on a disgusting amount of coffee to survive work the day after, but IT WAS ABSOLUTELY WORTH IT. This fic is such a unique take on Order 66 and what came after, and I literally cannot stop thinking about it. And the characterizations?! I'm drooling. They are bang on, yet match the new future the characters have found themselves in in this canon divergence AU. 1000/10. Will absolutely be re-reading this again. And again. And... probably again.

... and likely again.

___

somebody to lie in the dark with

Author: tideswept (@tideswept)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing(s): Anakin Skywalker/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

A lingering sense of duty tugged at him. Anakin’s steps faltered. “Why did you kill them?” Obi-Wan turned to look at him. His eyes were yellow like molten gold, smoldering with an intensity that left Anakin dizzy, overheated, an answering fire in his chest stoked to bursting. “They were in my way,” said Obi-Wan. He cocked his head. “Do you not trust me?” 

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50094883

Okay, tideswept's writing in general makes me feral, but this fic was SOMETHING ELSE entirely. Their possessive Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi is SO HOT, and the TENSION they achieved between Anakin and Obi-Wan.... urg. I think I need to go sit in the freezer for a while. And I can't forget to mention the absolute perfection and ambiguity of the last few lines of the fic. I'm rattling the bars of my cage and I wish that I could read this for the first time all over again! ❤️❤️❤️

[fanfic-phoenix]

There is No Past Tense

Ratine: Teen

Word Count: 1602

Read on AO3

My Dearest, You are right. I did not expect to hear from you.

*

Satine is gone. Obi-Wan has a box.

My Dearest,

You are right.  I did not expect to hear from you.  I presumed our parting to be a permanent one - we both have our duties, all those things we cannot put aside, and temptation is…

Part of me wants to call it unwise, but I cannot call it unwelcome.  I ought to have burned your letter the moment it arrived; I shouldn’t even have read it.  We agreed to be as strangers - regret should not have weakened our resolve.  Yet here I am, not only reading but replying, because the truth is that since your departure, I have ached, and I can only feel grateful you had the courage to write.  I am not sure I would have.

There is so much, already, that I wish to tell, but I am afraid to slip, to betray us; one careless word, it all comes crashing down.  Am I paranoid?  Who would think to look for flimsi letters these days?  Yet I cannot shake the feeling of eyes against the back of my neck.  Therefore I write nothing of what I do, except that I wish you were here to do it too.  Nothing of my thoughts, except that they dwell on you.

It seems half-pointless to send this, with no news within it, nothing of myself. 

Only, I suppose, that I am thinking of you, that I love you still.  You will value it, I hope, as much as I valued what you sent.

Yours--

*

He didn’t know what it was when it arrived, and he hardly had the time to investigate.  The 212th were shipping out in the evening and there were still a thousand things to do, people to talk to, papers to sign, meetings to attend, senators to soothe and cajole and try not to vomit his disgust onto…  Obi-Wan fell into bed at night and thought nothing of the box he’d shoved into the corner of the room, having done nothing but reach out to the Force and ask, politely, if it was a bomb.

The Force said no, and so it could wait.  It would have to wait.

In the morning, after almost tripping over it as he shuffled to the ‘fresher, he wondered whether he could take it onto the ship, investigate it there.  There was, after all, no telling when they’d next get shore leave, much less on Coruscant - it might not be dangerous, but that didn’t necessarily mean it could be ignored indefinitely.

And then, of course, he admitted as he brushed his teeth, there was his curiosity.  A greedy, reckless thing, much starved by the endless battlefields.  Nothing to study for miles - Anakin had stepped on his last specimen, and there’d been nothing so interesting since.  He needed the mystery, needed something to keep his mind occupied between the planning and the pushes, something that didn’t stink of death and corpses.

He’d taken too long considering it - he wasn’t late, but he wasn’t early, which for Obi-Wan practically was late.  His door opened, Anakin and Cody walked in.  To check on him, no doubt.  They were…

Worried about him.  He might as well admit it.  They were worried about him.  He’d developed an unfortunate habit of getting lost in his own head, his own thoughts, his own reminiscences, and they were frightened by it.  Afraid that, one day, he might not come back.

“Gentlemen,” Obi-Wan said in greeting, only to blink as he realised how hoarse his voice was.  Had it been so long since he’d spoken?  No, he’d spoken to the senators only last night.  He must have spoken more than usual.

“General.”  Cody looked him up and down, assessing.  To a non-Jedi, he might have seemed subtle, expression carefully blank, but he telegraphed it all in the Force.

He did that on purpose, of course.  Obi-Wan had taught him how to shield.

“I received a package,” Obi-Wan explained.  His voice still croaked.  “I was considering whether to bring it aboard.  I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Bring it,” Anakin said.  Almost a command, Obi-Wan noted, though he was not sure why he bothered to note such a thing.  “You don’t know when you’ll be back.”

“That was my thinking,” Obi-Wan said, and picked up the box with his bags.  It was not heavy, yet for a moment, he thought he felt something twinge.

*

My Dearest, 

I am sorry we quarrelled.  Somehow, every time I see you in person, I seem to fight with you.  Or perhaps you fight with me.  Either way, I am sorry for it.  If we could speak as we write…

Perhaps it is self-preservation.  If you spoke to me as you write to me, I could not have kept myself from kissing you.  I would have begged you to take me away from that hateful place, those hateful people--

You know who I mean, of course, though I cannot put it to flimsi.

Sometimes, far too often, I find myself thinking of our last night together, how we just laid there, holding each other.  I think I miss that more than anything.

(Yes, even more than that; don’t think I can’t still picture your eyebrow going up!)

Yours--

*

He’d taken to wearing armour beneath his robes.  Stolen Death Watch pieces, stripped of their colour.  He ought to have painted them gold, but he remembered the meanings he’d learned on Mandalore - gold did not suit a Jedi.  He left them unpainted, silver beskar on show.

Almost grey.

It hardly mattered.  No one saw them beneath the brown and beige robes.

He deflected a blaster bolt with his ‘saber, watched it shatter the droid who sent it, and did not flinch as Anakin appeared at his shoulder in a whirl of energy and plasma.

“Did you open that box yet?” he shouted, straining to be heard over the clash of two armies.

“No.”  Obi-Wan spoke shortly, sharply.  He had, lately, attempted to avoid speaking in the midst of the battle.  He had the vague notion that it might not be words that came up.  

“Of course.”  Anakin rolled his eyes.  “You’re so boring, sometimes, Master.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Well, yeah.”  Anakin was unashamed.  Why shouldn’t he be?  They had lived in each other’s pockets for so long…  Privacy was a relative concept, especially amongst Jedi.  “Will you tell me when you open it?”

“We’ll see,” Obi-Wan said, mostly to see him huff, and then he dived back into the fray, let the noise wash everything else away.

*

My Dearest,

Sometimes I thought you could read my mind.  You always seemed to know when I needed something.  A kind word.  An argument.  Would you tell me, now, if I was right?

Likely not.  You do so love to be mysterious.

(I can imagine you glaring at me, now, pretending that you don’t, but you do.)

No one here can read my mind, I’m certain, or they would not seek to annoy me quite so much.  The violence of their suggestions disgust me.

But I will say no more of that.  You will hear plenty of it, I’m sure, running hither and yon across the galaxy as you do.  

Yours--

*

He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that possessed him to do it, but rather than bid Cody goodnight, he asked, “Commander, would you stay a moment?”

Cody blinked.  “Of course, General.  Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?  No.”  He frowned, unsure why.  “I-  I want to open the box.  Somehow…  I do not wish to do so alone.”

“It’s not dangerous?”

“No.”

Cody nodded, and retook his seat.  

Obi-Wan placed the box on the table.  It was hardly ornate, hardly elegant, but the lock was firm - and the key was missing.  He ran his finger over it.

“Whoever sent it knows me,” he said.  “They expect me to open it with the Force.”

“And will you?”

“Of course,” he said, with mock offence that made Cody grin, and unlocked it with a thought.  The lid came off easily and, for a moment, he couldn’t think why he’d been so anxious.

*

My Dearest, Obi-Wan,

If you are reading this, then I am gone.  You likely already know this, but just in case…

I am sorry to leave you so soon, my love.  I have had so much time with you, yet it hardly seems enough.  But then, I would have protested if given a lifetime with you.

Enclosed, dearest, is the lifetime we did have together.  I hope you can forgive me for not burning your letters as I know I should have, but I could not bear to.  At least you may trust that the fact you have them now proves I chose a worthy custodian.

Whether you keep them, or whether you do what I could not, I hope they remind you of what I should have said far more often: I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you always.

Remember that I am forever yours,

Satine

*

“Sir?”  Cody’s hand was gentle on his arm.  “Obi-Wan?”

“Satine,” he murmured, feeling the tears burning in his eyes.  “She sent me back my letters.”

“Your…”  He looked back at the box, and Obi-Wan could sense his surprise.  “All of them?”

He let loose a ragged laugh.  “We spent twenty years going back and forth.  Apparently she saved every word.”

“And you?”

“Her letters to me are in the Temple,” he confessed.  “It seemed…  I could hardly bring her onto a warship.”

Cody nodded, and pressed his arm again until he sat.  “You must have loved her a great deal.”

“Love,” Obi-Wan corrected.  “There is no past tense in these matters.”

[officialpenisenvy]

no preferences for media/ships, just wanted to see how such dynamics unfold in works an Aficionado & Expert™ would award their seal of quality to 🥰

okay so this is mostly jjk with two. sigh. notable exceptions. im SURE there's some works i missed but unfortunately ao3 doesn't let you sort your history by tags so you will have to forgive me for that 😔

black sheep, green pastures is a family drama about the fallout from an alpha teenager going into unexpected heat and raping his kid brother. it's genuinely a masterpiece and the omegaverse element is very understated, it's not in-your-face at all but it works to accentuate and deepen the already complex themes the fic tackles.

one good thing is a blessing is a bodice ripper set in the edo period, as an alpha outlaw meets a pregnant omega on the run from his clan and helps him escape. it's my golden standard for well-written a/b/o longfics, and it's definitely a fic for the omegaverse fans, featuring many common tropes and lore elements that blend seamlessly with the historical setting to create a fun and romantic story that is a great intro to the average omegaverse.

honey drop is an abandoned longfic about a young alpha man who finds himself adopting an omega-to-be young child and grooming him into compliance. it's very heavy on the omegaverse, and it's a very uncomfortable read at times, but to me that only adds to the story being told, which is very self-aware about its own darkness despite being cloaked in sweet possessiveness (also worth noting that they don't have sex in the fic, the author abandoned it just before that narrative beat).

ripe is a very dark and short fic about an alpha man taking advantage of his child ward's heat, brought on early due to the boy having been molested by his father in the past. the omegaverse here is more of a pretense, an excuse for the horrific and mundane abuse more than anything; i really love the way it's written, it's incredibly evocative and the author always writes the point of view of the rapist with staggering accuracy (if you like fics where gojo is a disgusting creep you will love this author).

this heart, pierced by a sword is an insane star wars prequel fic where alpha child anakin is the antichrist and obi-wan is his mother mary. it's fucking crazy and weird and lowkey disturbing and well-written enough to keep you hooked for 30k words and also palpatine is there. go read this especially if you've watched the prequels or are in the star wars fandom. it's fucking batshit

the omegas will play is a fun and simple smut fic about two omega best friends fagging out in front of their alphas. it's very uncomplicated and it doesn't explore much of anything (though it has some interesting tidbits such as an omega with an alpha complex), the sex is decent, this foursome dynamic is quite fun to read and it's a trashy indulgence of mine.

head above the water is. sigh. an attack on titan omegaverse fic which has unfortunately grabbed me by my heaaart with its dirty claws. it's about a troubled alpha boy whose father is sexually abusing his younger omega stepbrother and if anything about that premise sounds appealing to you i promise it's not worth reading it. it's not well written at all (though it's by far not the worst fanfiction prose out there) and the omegaverse tropes are present to the point of being overbearing and cloying. to me it's camp but i understand that not everyone can share my delicate sensibilities. i read this out of morbid curiosity and it ruined my life so don't read this unless you're also ready for that or at least for a very bad fic. im only including this out of intellectual honesty lord have mercy on me.

yeah that should be about it as far as omegaverse fic recs. obviously i have read a lot more i probably have read them in the hundreds. however most of them are VERY badly-written and not particularly compelling. they're still great to jerk off to if you're like me and get turned on by a light breeze but definitely not worth examining out of intellectual curiosity. this is like a cream of the crop from my personal omegaverse history. hope you enjoy ❤️

[nonhumanhottie]

Return of the jedi rewatch

'Andor would be so mad' - Housemate about the second death star

Palps is like an absent dad to the empire lmao

Jabba smoking that dank shit

'In awe at the size of this lad' - Housemate @ Jabba

Manwhore boba let's go

Salacious b crumb has me screaming every time i love him

'His new haircut is not it' - Housemate @ Luke

'Death rattle' caption hits so hard

How this gang saved the galaxy I'll never know

Palps walking stick slays where is that these days

'Strong with the force but not that strong; is such a good line strengthened by the prequels and Anakin's obsession with stopping death

The last 50 years of yodas life have been dominated by skywalker drama he deserved to die

Obi-Wan giving the Vader backstory actually gets me especially after Obi-Wan Kenobi, which isn't good but it adds to things like this at least

Oh I love lando and han they're the best boys

Mon!! I fucken love you

Ackbar is so fucking slay I love him

Sneeping and snooping around the forest

This movie is a fucking comedy they're all so stupid

Luke uses his lightsaber like a baseball bat go off king

Leia and Wicket friendship is everything

Leia is so much more chill now that she's not hiding her horny feelings

Luke's hair glowed down and Chewie's glowed up

Threepio deserves to be a god

Han has such Indy energy in this film

Leia looks so fucking good in her endor outfit queen

Han is literally having flashbacks as threepio tells his story

I know it makes no sense but I like Leia talking about Padme (I know it's not padme but still)

Leia is so fucking disgusted about Luke revealing Vader is his father

Leia and Han love each other so much oh my god shut up

Rex! That old guy us Rex right like we all imagine that's rex? If so slay

You really can feel Vader's expression at this point of the film and it is always stressed

Palpatine is serving such cunt oh my god

I don't care what anyone says I love the ewoks

Wedge I'm so glad you're alive and slaying

I would die for ackbar

'I will never emotionally recover from watching that ewok die' - Housemate

Obi-Wan would be so fucking mad if he saw Vader throw his saber like that

I love how long Vader takes to yeet Palps

Anakin you egg

Han is so emotionally mature shut up he loves leia so much

God I fucking the ending so much it'd so cute let them be happy

[peppered-imps]

here’s a prompt to hopefully help get your creative juices flowing! “i hope that’s not what you’re planning on wearing” with obidala or oad?

thank you for the prompt, jeka!! here's something from a "never master and padawan/left the order/royal naboo/everyone lives and is happy" type au. it's a little more obidala than intended but oad is definitely there!

I wrote the boys' outfits with this in mind. Padme's didn't have a direct inspiration but something like this with colouring like this works as a general visual.

“I hope that’s not what you’re planning on wearing.” “What, you don’t like it?” She is royal resplendence in pale gold makeup and gossamer sleeves. Radiant, warm, like summer incarnate. His appreciative eyes take a quick journey along the soft drape of the dress, the delicate cling of fine Naboolian silk to her body. Dormé’s work is, as always, breathtaking. “You’re lovely, my dear. But if this is your outfit, I dread seeing my own.” “Obi-Wan, it’s been—” she mutters a quiet curse as she fumbles with the final clasp at her back, always left undone by the Handmaidens until Padmé decided she was finished, “—five years, and you’re still not used to this?” “Oh no, I’m quite accustomed to your elaborate ideas of what constitutes fashion for you.” His fingers take the place of hers and he deftly fastens the clasp. “Which means I know the ideas you come up with for me.” “This is hardly elaborate.” “Perhaps not, but it isn’t your typical choice.” She raises a challenging brow at him, and points him to his own clothes that hang just inside her wardrobe. “Anakin liked his.” “Anakin also likes podracing and that disgusting stew Master Yoda used to make.” At the wardrobe, he groans. “Are you equating my fashion sense with swamp slop?” “Of course not. But Padmé, really—” he lifts the sleeve of his shirt. “It’s entirely transparent.” “Not entirely. The pants are solid.” “Padmé.” “It’s on trend.” “It’s absurd.” “It’s summer.” “I’d rather sweat.” Her smile is a fond, secret thing; the kind she reserves only for himself and Anakin. “You’re impossible.” “As are you.” He allows a smile of his own, fingering the appliqué along the collar. “You already gave Anakin his?” “Yes.” “And you’ve been keeping mine from me because—?” “Because I knew you’d be stubborn about it.” He sighs, reluctantly slipping out of his robe.  “I am not a prideful man.” “I know.” “But if Mace or Qui-Gon or, Force help me, Quinlan say one word—” Her laugh is sudden and bright, like the chime of crystal bells in Theed’s cathedrals. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to wear the overcoat.” He pauses, shirt half on, and turns to her. “The what?” She grins, slips behind her dressing screen and returns with a simple overcoat. Pale green linen threaded with scattered flecks of gold and silver. He shakes his head at her. “You’re cruel.” “And you’re easy.” She laughs again and leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He turns his head to catch her lips instead. She pulls back after a long minute. “You'll smear my makeup.” “I have half a mind to do much more than that, wicked wife of mine.” “Promises, promises.” She hums quietly. “They’ll just have to keep until after.” “Are you two ready yet?” Anakin strolls in, in the same overcoat ensemble Obi-Wan holds. He takes Padmé’s hand, brings it to his lips. “Beautiful.” “As are you.” She grins, tossing a pointed look to Obi-Wan who smirks back at her. Anakin looks him over, tilts his head at his half-open shirt. “Love the casual look, but can you get a move on? Guests are arriving and you know I’m no good with this delegation crap.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Some King Consort you are.” “Hey, we can’t all be gifted with your ability to entertain  even the most brainless politicians—” “Ani—” Padmé half scolds, half calls, gesturing vaguely at the light cape she’s trying to secure around her shoulders. “It’s true, you’ve said so yourself.” He fixes the cape around her. “Maybe so. But they’re our guests and it’s best to practice politeness now so we don’t insult anyone later.” “Like how you called the Zigyu delegate a— what was it, Obi-Wan?” “A 'half-witted bludfly larva.'” “Yeah, that.” Anakin bites back a laugh and Obi-Wan grins. “Not your finest moment, my love.” “Which is why—” Padmé glares at them, “—we should practice civility now.” “Well, it’s gonna get uncivilized pretty quickly if you leave me to my own devices out there much longer. So hurry up.” Obi-Wan shakes his head amusedly and finishes dressing.

[tennessoui]

Rereading PBATMB because that's what I do on bad days, and this line: "But thankfully, his pretty bird also had a very bad lie detector" Like, truer words have never been spoken in the entirety of the SW Fandom, the whole of canon quite literally exists because of Anakin Skywalker's very bad lie detector, I just. I commend you. What a line. A+ ^42

love that pbatmb is your comfort fic I hope it is very comforting for you on your bad days 🙏

Let’s be real tho if anakin had even a little bit of a better lie detector the relationship in pbatmb would take so much longer for obi-wan to build. In the first fic, anakin makes obi-wan say that he’d let him sleep with other people if that’s what he wants and then is like “wow I can’t believe he said that and wants me so much he’d get over himself” cue scenebreak to obi-wan’s pov and mobi-wan is like yeah my silly lil pretty bird made me say some disgusting shit about sharing him haha I straight up lied to his face but it earned me his undying loyalty I think so there’s that

which is also very in character for anakin in sw I think fr

[jedi-lothwolf]

Whumpril Day 21: Scars/Fracture

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars

Summary: Obi-wan and Maul see each other again. It wouldn't end well.

  Obi-wan knew he couldn't outrun Maul forever. Anger was hard to hide from. Now the Jedi ran through the woods; his robes catching on briers. He tripped over a tree root and fell.

    Kenobi's ankle had gotten stuck under the roof. Panicked he pulled at it but it wouldn't budge. "No, no, no" he whispered. With the frantic pulling he broke his ankle, but it was free. He yelled from the pain.

    Maul closed in. Obi-wan tried to stand but fell back to the ground. Tears flowed down his face. He was tired.

    When Maul arrived, Obi-wan readied himself to try to fight. As much as he wanted to just give up, to just stop fighting, he wouldn't; he couldn't.

    "This should be fun" Maul hissed. Obi-wan didn't get a chance to fight back. Maul held him down with the force. He laid there in the dark woods as the Zabrak tore at his skin. He didn't use his lightsaber or a knife; but instead his talents.

    Kenobi was helpless. Never before had he felt so much physical pain. He wished for it to be over. Death would be kinder to him and when Maul left his body in the woods the animals would treat him better.

    Anakin had sensed his brother's panic and had already been looking for him when the sudden rush of pain flooded his mind. Now he ran faster then he thought he could. He couldn't let Obi-wan down.

    As time passes Anakin could feel the hopelessness spread in his masters mind. Horse screaming came into earshot and the man used that to locate the other. He skidded to a stop and drew his lightsaber, "hey Maul!"

    Darth Maul removed his talents from Obi-wan's skin and stood. "Hello Skywalker."

    Anakin rushed Maul. The two's lightsabers clashed. Obi-wan tried to move but pain kept him in place. The younger of the Jedi position himself between the enemies. In the end Maul would be forced to retreat.

    "Obi-wan" Anakin swiftly moved over from the injured jedi. Obi-wan tried to give an answer but couldn't. Then the world went black.

    It had been a few months since this had happened. The scars that littered his body terrified him. Obi-wan couldn't look in the mirror much anymore. Basic things like changing and showering was difficult when he avoided looking at himself. He grew slightly distant from his loved ones. In his eyes the scars made him unattractive and revolting.

    Cody had the combination too Obi-wan's door. It may have been early morning but his general was always up already so he just wanted to make sure he was okay. At this point neither of them saw a point in the commander knocking so he didn't.

    The door slid open. Inside Obi-wan sat at the end of his bed, still in a pair of Cody's blacks in which he wore to sleep. "Hey, are you okay? You're normal up already."

    "Yeah" Obi-wan answered coldly.

    Cody walked over to the bed and sat beside him. "What's going on?"

    After a little bit of dancing around the problem, Obi-wan finally opened up. "I just don't like looking at them."

    Cody looked puzzled.

    "The scars, Cody" Obi-wan sighed."I feel disgusting. I hate them."

    Cody moved his hands to grasp the others, "But you survived and those scars prove it. They tell a story of a strong man who lived. Scars or not, you have always been beautiful." Cody cuffed his lover's face, "okay?"

    Obi-wan paused. "I'll try to see it that way. You always know just what to say."

    "Thanks. Now, you get dressed and we'll go get some breakfast?"

    "Okay." After a moment to mentally prepare himself, the Jedi would undress and then dress for the day. The two would head down for breakfast and then go about their day. For the first time that night Obi-wan showered with the lights on. If Cody could still love him, even with every scar, then maybe he could find a way to love himself again the way he once had. For the first time in a while Obi-wan knew everything was going to be okay.