#anakin's name is mentioned and everyone runs away in fear

[incorrectclonewars]

Separatists: I have an army.

Obi-Wan: We have a Anakin Skywalker.

[garden-bug]

Luke's inner conflict surrounding attachment and the Jedi code from my Dinluke fic

“Love and compassion are the Jedi way.” “But not family.” Luke is again stabbed by that brief, painful conversation. Sometimes moments of it will play out in his head and it’s as if he’s there again, except in his mind he stays and doesn’t leave, and he has an answer for Din when he says that the Jedi way is incompatible with the Mandalorian values of family.  “Luke. It's normal to be afraid for the people you care about, but that doesn't make it okay to push human connection away. Yes, it might be hard to figure this out as a Jedi, but what you're doing right now is avoiding your fear, which isn't going to make you any less afraid or the reality that bad things do happen any less painful.” Leia has always been wiser than him. “I believe the Jedi lost their way. Instead of dealing with how we felt in a healthy way, we were encouraged to push our fear and anger away, and many of us, Anakin included, bottled it up. He was… scared of something, and nobody helped him, or reassured him, because it was about your mother and he’d broken the Jedi code to be with her.” Ahsoka became completely disenchanted with the Jedi. And Luke doesn’t blame her — not after what she went through. It’s no wonder she struggles to associate herself with the name. In her view, the Jedi failed his father, she failed his father — even though there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent him from turning to the dark side.  He… he would never have made the choice his father did. If it came down to it, if it was Din in his mother’s place — “I can’t choose you, I can never choose you. Can you really tell me you understand that?” Din brought a hand up to his helmet. “I don’t know.”  What did Din mean then? He didn’t know if he could understand putting someone above everyone and everything, including what you believe in?  “Had she said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order to be by her side.” And even Ben. Why would he have had to leave the Order?  The point is — It all comes back to — Leia.  “…what you're doing right now is avoiding your fear, which isn't going to make you any less afraid or the reality that bad things do happen any less painful.” He wants to make Din understand, maybe by pushing him down and kissing him, because why the Force shouldn’t he love someone like that? Yes, it’s terrifying, but he’d sure rather love Din and have that than end up like Ben (sorry, Ben) who for some reason had the idea that loving someone equalled selfishness and destroyed your ability to put anything or anyone above the person you love and therefore was the antithesis of the Jedi code. “Attachments lead to pain, pain leads to suffering. The path to the dark side, it is.” But Yoda didn’t mention that pain is caused by fear of loss. Fear of loss is a result of one’s inability to accept that loss is part of life. Attachment does not mean love. Attachment means… a desire for control over things in life that cannot be controlled. Being tied to them. And as much as Luke loves Din he would never want to be tied to him in that way. As a Jedi, Luke must love with acceptance that everything he loves he may one day lose. Otherwise, he risks following in the footsteps of his father. Can he do it?

Further:

Context for the story: Luke is trying to rebuild the Jedi Order, falls in love with Din (who decides to embrace being the Mand'alor after being inspired by Luke), has a terrifying vision that his attachment to Din will lead to pain, and pretty much runs away to Leia on Coruscant where he tries to figure the whole thing out.

Ahsoka has gone anti-Jedi because she had a traumatic experience and still blames herself and everyone for what happened to Anakin. This is a character flaw she may or may not overcome in this story.

When Din says "but not family" implying that he believes family goes against the Jedi code, he is in the wrong and later feels immensely guilty because 1) it's mean (he was upset) and 2) his idea of family is mightily messed up, having been raised by a cult. The extremity of the guilt he feels is, though, irrational, because he has a lot of issues and he was having a panic attack in the scene where he reflects on what he said which messes up your judgement (source: personal experience).

I will revise this section because I don't think it represents Obi-Wan's feelings for Satine (I'll need to think about this more):

he’d sure rather love Din and have that than end up like Ben (sorry, Ben) who for some reason had the idea that loving someone equalled selfishness and destroyed your ability to put anything or anyone above the person you love and therefore was the antithesis of the Jedi code.

Luke fully recognises here that Anakin's own choices led him to becoming Vader. (Something Ahsoka still struggles to accept.) If this is not something you agree with please DNI with this post or with me, because I will not change my opinion.

Save for that, I would absolutely appreciate any comments or insight (I may not take them into account, but I'd be interested to hear them anyway because I want to offer as rich an insight as I can into this issue and discussion is super great for that). Also I think I might have clarity issues in this passage so if anything is unclear feel free to let me know (kindly - I am human).

Also important: I am NOT writing a Luke who 'gives up' being a Jedi because omg Din Djarin! They are both incredibly interesting characters in their own right with their own beliefs that are integral to who they are and I intend to do them as much justice as I can.

If you read the story (which I will link below) please be aware that it is a first draft and therefore I don't feel that it perfectly expresses all of the messages I want to get across. Still, huge thanks if you give it a try!

[nanagoswife]

Contrition of War

A request for @generousrunawaydonut

Summary: After going against orders from Obi-Wan to leave him behind, he's mad that you risked yourself.

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, mention of blood and death and serious injury

- - -

There was a light trickle of something wet dripping down the side of your face. You weren’t surprised as you had just jumped under a bunch of rocks to save many, but more importantly one particular person. This particular person also would’ve been the only one who had no possibility to escape.

Despite his protests and telling you all to leave before it was too late, you jumped in anyways, doing your best to deflect laser bolts while using your other hand to push the force through you to hold off the falling cliffside.

Although you were able to stop a lot of them, you were still unable to contain them all. A couple had come whizzing by you, a couple striking you as you prevented multiple injuries and one definite death.

You were aware the others were safe, but you had to wait for the right window of time so that you could try to guarantee your own safety. That was, until a blaster just grazed your shoulder. Thankfully, not enough for it to actually touch your flesh.

As time went by, it was getting continually harder to hold it all. The window you were hoping wasn’t showing itself. You started to fear that maybe this wouldn’t go as planned and that it may compromise everyones’ safety.

That is what you thought until you saw two other flashes of blue, now deflecting the shots that you had been determinedly fighting off.

“Y/N! Go now!” yelled Anakin over the noise. You looked at Obi-Wan who wasn’t breaking his attention from the droids in front of you.

Slight disappointment filled you when he didn’t spare a glance over at you to send you extra reassurance, but you didn’t let it distract you. There wasn’t enough time.

With the last of your strength, you pushed the rocks towards the droids.

The whole front line of them was crushed under the stone pieces, and awarded everyone enough time to get to the ships before they started firing again. Obi-Wan took the rear as Anakin came over and helped you as your tired frame began to pull you down, not allowing you to get up on your own.

It didn’t take long to get on the ship, and you were surprised you didn’t just collapse from how you just exerted yourself once you were safely up the ramp. There was so much of your force energy that was used for that act alone that you wouldn’t be able to do much else before getting a decent rest. Preferably in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“Why in Corellia’s nine hells did you do that?” Obi-Wan almost yelled. You slightly jumped at the suddenness of it. The doors had only just closed to the outside as the transport had lifted off.

Obi-Wan was nearly drowning in furious worry. He had nearly lost you due to your little stunt in the name of saving him.

You looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze as he reprimanded you. Anakin wasn’t far behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder for comfort as you kept your head down. He even slightly pulled you back and away from the man you loved, currently sounding like you had just betrayed him and the Jedi by saving him.

“Obi-Wan, calm down. Why can’t you be grateful at the fact that she just saved your life along with so many others,” Anakin shot back at his former master. “It may have been reckless, but it’s nothing you haven’t seen, or done, before,” Anakin continued sternly.

“Yes, and how does that usually turn out for us, Anakin? This was a brash, undercalculated and dangerous action that could’ve done a lot more harm than good!”

Obi-Wan’s blazing eyes still hadn’t calmed when you caught a glance at him. You were almost afraid that he would soon say something to deepen the pain you felt, and it was leading to that. You thought he would appreciate the help, not be mad about it. On top of the exhaustion, this wasn’t going well for you especially when you wanted his comfort. You wanted to fall into his warm embrace.

All you had wanted to do was help. Sure, you were spurred on by the fact that you wanted to keep someone you cared a lot about alive and unharmed, but there were others that were in danger. If needed, that could be your excuse to everyone else, you mused. It could hide the fact that you acted more out of emotion and previous experiences than The Code permitted.

Still, that didn’t dampen the painful twist in your chest as you were sure you were about to be lectured. Not only that, but it seemed like Obi-Wan was actually mad about you saving him. You thought he’d be happy. Happy that he could spend more days with you and then tend to your wounds in the quiet of one of your rooms, but that wasn’t seeming like a possibility with how this was.

“I’m not your padawan to protect,” he said suddenly, irritation in his tone.

You felt tears well up in your eyes with an extra sting of pain as you couldn’t bring yourself to actually look at Obi-Wan. It was too much to even just hear his tone, and it wouldn’t be helped if you saw the same thing in his eyes. Never, in your relationship or the time you’ve just known him, has he ever spoken to you like this. Never has he used a past failure against you.

When he finally took a moment to evaluate the situation, he saw that tears were forming in your eyes as you still kept your head down. Absolute shock froze Anakin in place at his words. Immediate remorse filled him as he realised what he had just said.

Anakin, your good friend and ever protective of you, even when he was still a padawan, used the hand on your shoulder to pull you into a hug while giving him a hard look.

“I-I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan stuttered out, changing his tone to be gentler. “I just- you could’ve been killed.”

“You think I don’t know that,” you said, shaky and muffled into Anakin’s robes, face turned away. “We’re Jedi. It’s part of our job description. To protect.”

His emotions were clouding every rational thought. So much so that he just brought up a sensitive topic and used it against you. He had no right to, not when he knew how much pain it brought you.

“General Skywalker?” a voice from Anakin’s comm buzzed as you felt your transport land in the star destroyer hanger.

Anakin pulled away carefully with a small groan of annoyance, still making sure you were alright before answering.

“What is it, Rex?”

“You’re needed in the docking bay. R2 seems to have a problem,” the clone captain replied.

With a sigh, Anakin let Rex know he would be there soon before turning his comm off.

“Will you be alright?” He asked you, genuine concern.

You nodded, “I was thinking of heading to my quarters, anyway.” You gave Obi-Wan a small glance as you said that. There was something in you that wanted to know how he was feeling.

At the moment, his fury from only moments ago had died down, now showing remorse for his words. Concern was also etched in, mainly felt through the force rather than seen on his facial expression.

“Alright,” Anakin started, breaking your train of thought, “If you need me, comm me immediately. Maybe get those scratches checked.”

You gave a snort in response which received a playful smirk from Anakin before he walked away, giving Obi-Wan a brief, hard glare before leaving you alone with Obi-Wan. You weren’t sure whether he was about to continue to lecture you on what you had done, or whether he was going to apologize. You could feel the conflict, but nothing on his face gave away what he was going to do.

Either way, you didn’t want to find out. There was too much running through your mind, and you didn’t want any of it to come out. Especially with the fact that he reopened an only just healed wound.

“Darling, I-” Before he could say another word, you dropped your eyes to the floor again and fled the room. He could feel the dejection radiating across your bond before it snapped away. You had completely closed off your side of the bond.

This left Obi-Wan alone. Between what he said to you, no, more like the way he talked to you and how he was chided by his former apprentice and then the way you seemed like you couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, let alone have your bond open, he was frozen in place. Shock at everything absolutely flooded him, and he didn’t know what he was doing.

Bringing his hands up, he rubbed his face with both palms before running them through his hair, letting out a sigh of disappointment in himself. That was no way to talk to you. Especially when all he wanted was to be closer to you, comfort you, and when he had truly wanted to help you with your injuries.

Now was not the time, though. He knew you would want time alone, and he knew you wouldn’t want him to come knocking on your door. Not after this. Not when, for the first time ever, he had raised his voice at you.

It didn’t help that everything had been so stressful, especially for you. Recently, your padawan, Tylo Dara, had been gravely injured in a previous battle despite how hard you tried to protect him.

You and your padawan along with a squad of clones were answering a call for help on Toydaria. While you had been walking through where the Separatist troops had been sighted, a blast had shattered the walls of the ravine you were walking through. It was an ambush and you, along with any unhurt clones, were barely able to fend them off. Once the firing had ceased, you had frantically searched for Taylo, only to find him pinned under multiple boulders. Relief troops thankfully came soon enough to keep your padawan and a few clones alive.

Though the attack was an ambush, you blamed yourself for everything that had happened. It took so much of Obi-Wan to finally convince you that it wasn’t your fault. Now he had most likely just undid that.

Other than the mass casualties of your clone squad, it looked like Tylo would never be well enough to spend another day training to become a Jedi. Too much in his body was damaged that the bacta tank did next to nothing. Not even the healers could fix him enough to bring him back to usual health.

That’s when it clicked for Obi-Wan. You didn’t want to lose another that you cared about. You didn’t want to lose the one you loved.

Finally breaking out of his frozen position, he went after you. There was so much that he needed to apologize for. You didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that when all you did was protect him and so many others from the falling cliffside that had been blown off. In fact, it was one of the most impressive things he had ever seen.

Although you had injuries that needed to be tended to, Obi-Wan knew that the medbay wasn’t where you would go. No, you always wanted the injured clones to gain the limited medics’ attention along with the droids. That’s why it had been customary for Obi-Wan to patch you up after every mission, even if he wasn’t on it with you. You would be so stubborn that many times you would arrive home at the Temple before letting yourself get any medical aid.

Since there wasn’t anywhere else, he knew he would find you in your room. This would seem normal if you hadn’t spent nearly all of your nights in Obi-Wan’s room.

Standing outside of your door, he took a deep breath before knocking. For a moment, he was afraid you wouldn’t answer until your door slid open.

When he looked at you, you were slouched over. Your hair was a mess and he could see the trails on your cheeks where tears had run down your face. To you, you would’ve said that you looked horrible. To him, you looked beautiful. To him, whether you were happy, sad, angry, bloody or sweaty, you always made his heart skip a beat.

Now, he just had to keep himself together so that you may forgive his imprudent words.

“May I come in?” he asked, voice slightly shaky.

You shifted from one foot to the other, “I don’t know if-”

“Y/N, please,” he said, pleading with you. If you rejected him now, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When your eyes met his, you could see how desperate he was. The cerulean pools of his eyes were showing a storm of emotion that begged you to let him in. It was a look that you were never able to say no to.

Relenting, you only nodded and made your way back to the corner of your room atop of your bed. It was the closest thing you could get for comfort, the cool durasteel pressing into your back.

Relief filled Obi-Wan as he cautiously stepped into your room. Closing the door, he took a glance around. Compared to his that had both yours and his things, this room was practically empty. On top of that, it was cold and felt lonely.

When his eyes rested on you, you had your knees brought up to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you sat in the corner. Your stare was blank as your chin rested on top of your knees.

Obi-Wan’s heart twisted in guilt as he experimented through your shared bond. He was only met by your walls still locked shut. Although he couldn’t wrap his force with yours, he could still feel the sadness and grief radiating off of you. There was also remorse that floated around, but not overpowering.

Making his way over, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Y/N, I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“But you were right,” you said, your voice small and hollow.

“No,” Obi-Wan said immediately, “No I wasn’t. Thanks to you, so many men are still alive.”

“You were right about one thing. You aren’t my padawan. I no longer have a padawan. I-” fresh tears were filling your eyes as your voice caught in your throat. “I- I no longer have Tylo.”

His heart sunk in his chest just like it had the first time you had told him of your padawan. Just like that night, he wanted to pull you into him and hold you as you cried, but he didn’t know if you would let him. He didn’t know if he crossed a line that he couldn’t come back from.

Testing the waters, he moved a hand to rest gently on an ankle, only now noticing that you hadn’t even removed your battle worn boots. When you didn’t try and move away, a small bit of relief filled him.

“I had no right bringing that up. It wasn’t fair of me, especially when I know how you feel about it.” Desperation to make his intentions truly known was starting to break through into his tone. He so badly wanted you to open up to him so that he could reinforce it all.

For what felt like the first time, you brought your eyes to meet his. There was so much pain that filled them that Obi-Wan almost broke down. The amount of sadness he caused you made him loathe himself. Anger was never the right answer and definitely not against you.

“I just didn’t want it to happen to anyone else,” you started, voice delicate and not letting sound properly make its way out, the silent parts sounding like a breeze trying to talk. “I didn’t want to lose you, Obi,” your tears began to burn down your cheeks once again as you said this.

Obi-Wan moved his hand to place it over one of yours. If this was the only comfort you’d let him give you, then he wouldn’t waste it. Then, you opened, letting him finally wrap your end of the bond to be wrapped in his comfort.

“I don’t care how much love goes against the code. I love Tylo like a son. I love Cody, I love all of the clones. I love Anakin. Obi-Wan, I love you. I love you.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved so that he was on his knees beside you, pulling you into him and hugging you tight. Although this was to comfort you, it comforted him just as much.

“I love you too, darling,” he said, kissing your head as your tears grew heavier and your heaving breaths grew as desperate as your hands clasping at his robes. “What you did was extraordinary and you saved so many of us. I was just so scared because I almost lost you.”

Carefully, he moved so that he was sitting, you partially on his lap as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. The spot was damp with the combination of your tears and your warm breath, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was comforting you and being there for support like you always were for him. All he cared about was that you still loved him.

“I’m sorry, Obi. I-”

“Shh, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said quickly. “I’m the only one who has to apologize. I made you feel bad for doing the right thing.”

Sniffling, you pulled away to look in his eyes. His smile melted all sadness and worry that you still stored. If that wasn’t it, then it was him wiping your face dry with the soft fabric of his undershirt.

Obi-Wan wasn’t satisfied until you smiled when he cupped your cheek with one hand and, with the other, intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Now, will you allow me to check your injuries?”

You chuckled as you brought your free hand to brush away the hair from his face, “No.”

“No?” The confusion on his face made you laugh.

“Not until I do this.”

With your hand still brushing his hair back, you slid it to the nape of his neck. As he caught on, he finished your thoughts before you were able to act. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours, both of you breathing out a contented sigh.

Everything around you melted away. Every doubt, fear, and shred of sadness disappeared. Obi-Wan was here. Your love was here and made you feel the safest you’ve ever been since the start of this war.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05

[highsviolets]

waterfall inquiry: javier peña x reader

pairing: javier peña x young analyst!reader

summary: words should not make you feel so much.

warnings: age gap. kissing. and - the worst of all - f e e l i n g s. (soft ones)

a/n: [edited 10 June ‘21] this was supposed to be three parts...and now there’s more. I regret nothing :) 

[next] [series masterlist] [main masterlist] * gif: @anakin-skywalker​

“Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name”

 “as kingfishers catch fire” | gerard manley hopkins

Neither of you should be here. Strictly speaking, at least.

The Embassy maintains regulations about these sorts of things, you’ve heard in jagged claims that coat the walls in a sickly iridescent sheen. Not the pretty kind that makes glitter sparkle. No, it’s the perverse shine — pyrite and oil spills on tepid water and those cheap kaleidoscopes they sell at county fairs.

Everything, it seems, is whispered here. Here at the Embassy, anyway; Colombia itself is a messy, irreverent place. A dreamlike people, an altered state where God acts as the intermediary between man and demons, not angels.

Perhaps that is why the Embassy is always quiet. The shrill clang of a phone ringing makes everyone start, fearful of keeping demons at bay. Even the PR reps speak in hushed tones, the words soft and soothing like cotton balls dipped in baby oil gliding across skin — crafting press releases each word slotted for a specific purpose, hand-picked with evolutionary precision.

It harasses you, stinging pricks drawing blood from beneath the surface of your bronze skin. Words should move freely, you believe. Like the way the Mississippi runs in during the spring melt: coarse, unimpeded, roiling in caught light, caressing the riverbanks as it soaks up all the world gives it — thrusting forward after a winter fraught in immobility, reveling in flinty purpose.

There’s a difference between words of fabrication and phrases of culled authenticity — the ones that stream from bleeding hearts, bound tightly by shoves and glares and hands that can’t keep still. Hands that grasp for something tangible. Anfractuous reminders of why they must be so careful, why they must keep the truth of themselves limited to brief instances of throwing back light or heat.

There is one man, you know, who thinks like you do — and he laughs at the fact that your jobs depend upon other people being careless with their words. Bandying about locations, codenames, numerals, what to buy at the grocery store. You can almost hear him, that marmalade voice spreading over you, eyes gleaming in smoke and fervor: yeah, carelessness gives us both a job. But it hurts, too.

Tonight, though. When you both are here when you really shouldn’t, you really fucking shouldn’t, not when you’ve been dreaming about him for…for how long? How long have you been in this country that makes a mockery of verisimilitude? Long enough, apparently, for everything else to blur when you look at him, for you to have memorized the way his shirts pull tight over his back when he’s leaned over his desk.

Eyes climb up the length of his torso, the slope of it heightened by the way he’s bracing his weight on his hands. His palms are spread wide and god as much as you think you want to stop the way your mouth runs dry at the sight his large palm, you can’t.

A sigh leaks out. The man in question spares a glance your way, matching the twist of his neck to the cigarette he brings to his lips. “You alright?” he mumbles around the thing, and you grip the desk’s edge a little harder at the sound, at the sight, of him in his element. His exhale — a finely tuned purse of the lips, discreetly directed away from your work — should feel the same as your sigh, but it doesn’t. It washes over you instead, and you rock in the way his existence ebbs and flows in and out of your person. Easy. Like breathing. Like all you have to do is breathe, and he’ll be there.

There are stories about him. When you had been sent down to Columbia as a junior analyst after the death of Escobar, you had quickly dived into the mythos the man. How could you not, when he was everywhere, the scent and swagger of him drawing eyes from every corner of the barricaded building?

The others — the replacements, someone had once termed the batch of new personnel flooding the country to fight Cali — had told you the stories; where they had heard them, you weren’t sure. Huddled over tepid drinks in the bar after work, blazers shrugged off and shirtsleeves rolled up, you had let them regale you of how he fought for years to bring down Escobar, only to be in Miami when his partner did the deed. How he fucks his informants; although, one of them admitted with a sigh, he hadn’t been known to do that in a while. How he was ruthless in the pursuit of justice. A fucking legend, man, someone had crowed about the older man, tongue loose with overpriced alcohol.

And through it all, there was you, eyeing the man himself across the bar. The embrace of his hands against the whiskey glass, the way he barely shuddered at the consuming burn of the stuff when he tossed it back in a behavioral gesture. He seems sad, is what you had thought. Whatever opposite of sad existed in this opulent measure of time by which you both abided — that’s what you wanted to do for him. To make him not-sad. He is aged, perhaps, but not old, rather like someone who could be young if they could shed the pallid skin of responsibility.

But you can’t play God in this country of fallen beings. Being consumes you instead, devolving into an obsession, hanging onto the ledge of yourself — gripping humanity and slicing rocks and graphite that stains your skin even as it slides away, too smooth to be held in hands that ache, swollen, from typing up reports detailing the tumbled-gravel sins of humanity.

He likes you. You think he might, anyway. He consults you before any of the others, and once or twice he’s dragged some Columbian officer into your tiny workspace, asking you to confirm the intelligence on whatever operation he’s desperate to get approved so he can do something. He asks with words that curl up and over themselves like whitecaps, one hand resting on his hip as he nods along to your recitation.

But it’s really his eyes you watch in these moments, aching in fluttering hope whenever they rest on yours. Javier Peña’s eyes when he visits you in your workspace are pleading thermoses of life under sterile fluorescent lights. He likes to send you a half-smile and a nod when you’re finished, tossing them over his shoulder as he escorts the man back to the Ambassador’s office. You are both too good at your job not to love it in some sick & twisted way, and he knows.

Other times he simply drops by. Leaning against your cubicle, he fiddles with a cigarette and chats with you as you work, asking questions that he knows he’s the only one examining.

Talk to me about the families of la cartel de Cali, he mutters, the hoarse sound deep and aching in your gut. About their mothers, daughters, sons, cousins, in-laws. Is anyone sick? Do they want to go on vacation? What’s the drama of the week, no, don’t laugh, — he smiles, here, barely, the delicate minutiae of the expression an external revelation of his magnetism — there always is in families. They’re human just like us. And that’s when he sighs, and looks across the hall, where in his office there’s a diagram of the Cali bosses splayed over the wall. Yeah...they’re like us.

Javier makes a slowly forms a habit of it, of stopping by your cubical and wrapping you in currents of charisma and truth. He does you a solid, too, bringing you to the attention of your superiors when he mentions your diligence. And you repay him in kind, taking care to slip into his office with new intelligence before the brass gets word. You tell yourself it’s simple mentorship. Mere patronage. He’s paying it forward, helping the young analyst get ahead in their career. These meetings are nothing to him, and they ought to be equally as empty to yourself. It’s just exchanges of information. Conversation between colleagues.

Of course, that doesn’t explain why you look forward to his fingers touching yours when you lend him a pen, or, when he makes some half-whispered joke in Spanish, it makes you shiver. Or the pride that blossoms in your chest, embracing you all soft and balmy, when he considers your words. He handles them like he does his favorite cigarettes, rolling them between his fingers, palming their weight, letting the texture seep into his skin before he lights them on fire.

You drop your pen a lot; he brings a finger to his mouth in thought. You don’t see the way he smiles when you do that, grinning at the muttered curse and roll of your eyes. And he decides that he likes the way you laugh about it; poking fun at your own mistakes, the skin that matches his own gleaming in the warm sun.

He can never do that. Perhaps he should? But he doesn’t make mistakes like that, toss-away interruptions of intended action. The mistakes he makes get people killed. All the more reason to keep checking with you, he reasons, to double-insure the intelligence. Can’t have another mess. And he likes to hear your laugh. Nothing wrong with that, he says. Nothing wrong with something that makes his heart stir and entices the eyes hidden behind yellow aviators to trace the length of your neck a little longer than strictly necessary when you throw your head back in unmarked joy.

And tonight, in his office? Tonight he seems melancholic again, like the first time you saw him across the bar. He keeps shifting his weight, one hand on his hip, and then on the table, and then shrugging off both his jacket and his tie and tossing them unceremoniously onto the couch, limbs extending listlessly. It’s as close to careless as he gets.

Or maybe it’s just the exhaustion fusing into you both. You feel slow and hazy, torn between staring at him and bleary eyes glaring at the map beneath his fingers. if you just look at it longer, you think, you can will it all to fall into place. and maybe if you did he would kiss you, and maybe he would kiss you the way he has always wanted to live.

Maybe if you traced your tongue along his exposed collarbone, penning of licks of hope in the space where his words seem to get caught, where his perpetually open collar leaves him defenseless to an onslaught of physical impressions…maybe then, he’d exhale in blessed adoration, taken outside of himself for just one moment.

He’s asking you a question. You alright? He does that a lot, you realize. Checks in with you. When you answer, he laughs — those delightful eyes seeping warmth into your weary bones as they crinkle in a smile — and he reminds you to call him Javier. He — Javier — has rebuked you at least three times tonight alone, but you’ve yet to oblige his request. If you do, if you let your tongue caress his sacred name and rest in its life-sodden weight, you fear…

you do not know what you fear. you do not know how saying his name will shift the tides in your life. but you know that you will remain forever anchored to him, tethered to his lunar opacity.

“What’s this?” you ask instead, shifting to rest against the desk. You’re beside him now, hip adjacent to his as you look up at him. Latent smoke hovers overhead, and locks of his hair have come undone after the long hours of work and now rest over his forehead small waves. It looks like it aches, being so out of place, and yet so distinctly him. Caught. Destined to arch over his tanned skin, all the while lingering in a place where it should not. Not here, anyway. Not tonight, in his office, far after everyone else has gone home.

“What’s what?” Javier rejoins, distracted, still bent over the desk, still bracing his weight on those fingers.

Rustling papers catch his attention, and he twists to meet your gaze. “This.” You point to the unfamiliar word, stamped out in standard font. “My Spanish is decent, but I’ve never seen this word before.”

The wrinkles behind the shield of his fallen hair press together as he cranes his neck, adjusting his stance to read the word on the paper you thrust in his direction. It clears rapidly though — the visage sailing and unfurling itself when he absorbs the story hidden in-between letters on a page.

He repeats the word back to you, leaning into the sound the way he leans into you, inching closer in his explanation. You stare at his lips, completely captivated — his tongue catching between his teeth — the purse of his lips — the rearrangement of his jaw as it conforms to the aerodynamics of structured syllables.

“Strictly speaking,” he says, eyes roving your face, deep and dark, “it means elf, or spirit. Something ethereal. It’s used in stories a lot.” The words are smooth, smokey, whiskey-like as you let them drip down your skin, the insides of your thighs. “Entiendes?”

Your body temperature rises. You can feel it — the way your mouth’s run dry and the paper’s slippery in your grip. Did his voice drop lower when he used the familiar form of the verb, not the formal? You think it did. Oh god, he’s so close, he could just extend a hand across your body and it could rest on your hip. You had never really noticed his height either, always in heels. Tonight, though, the heels are in the corner with his jacket and tie and you realize that he’s inches above you, yet somehow still within reach.

“What’s” — you swallow thickly, desperate to remain professional despite your wide eyes, the tongue tracing your lower lip — “what’s the non-strict definition of the word?”

He gives you one of his trademark smirks. “It can also mean,” he says, “enchanting. Charming. For someone or something to be magical.”

Nodding slowly, you drop your eyes down to the paper again, desperate to avoid his gaze. It follows you, watching your eyes hide even as you adjust to be ever-closer, a bare foot extending outward and brushing against the fabric of his dress pants. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Say it,” you hear him urge, your head bolting up, incredulous. And you try, you really do, but it’s so new and unfamiliar and you’re so goddamn nervous with him looking at you, that you fuck it up. Words are but the vessels by which emotions themselves are expressed, so maybe the act of speaking should not make you feel all by itself. But it does — oh, god, it does, and you feel like you’ve shrunk in the process, dwarfed by this man with rolled up shirt sleeves wrapped around muscular forearms, who grins impishly around his cigarette.

“Not quite.” He stubs out the thing, and to your surprise, brings hand to your jaw, cupping your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again.”

“No, I can’t; I..“ you protest, and for what? because you don’t want him near you? no, that’s not it, but you’re being branded by his touch all the same.

“Say it again,” he commands again, more gently this time, his words accompanied by an encouraging nod.

You comply readily, sounding out the syllables. His strong fingers manipulate your movements, guiding you in pronouncing the difficult phrase. It’s forceful and noble, a tender yet compelling influence that teaches you how to wrap yourself in the meaning of the word as much the word itself. You’re tingling; is it from the thrill of achieving or from his sturdy hand against your bare skin?

He doesn’t back away when you’re finished speaking, but holds your stare. Dimly, you register the steady crescendo in your breathing. He’s not immune to your proximity either: his Adam’s apple bobs as he pushes down the deficit of hope flooding oppressive maxim of his presence. Times stretches as you remain caught in his hold, coursing through you, carrying you downstream in brash, coarse recklessness. Are the emotions you swim in those eyes yours, or his, or some measure of both?

The pads of his fingers migrate, drifting to rest along your cheek and tumble into his touch like a moth to flame, or fish to water, or whatever trite phrase people use to make sense of such profound belonging.

Javier is mesmerized with the way his fingertips trace your cheekbones, the shell of your ear, along your jaw, returning to outline your lips.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice scrapes along your bliss, and you force your eyes open to see that he’s moved even closer, closer-than-close, so tight against you that you’re nearly leaning back over the desk.

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are dark and still now, but for the way they’re trained on yours as you whisper fate into existence.

“No — fuck — I shouldn’t, I —“ his jaw shifts again, this time in agitation, but it is you who does the deed, cutting him off, reaching out to tug on his collar. The action pulls him forward, pressing himself against you, caging you between the desk and the broadness of his firm chest.  And you do know it’s firm now, at last slipping your hands underneath that truant fabric and gliding along his smooth skin. His hands find your waist, gripping your hips as he meets your lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

He — Javier, now — kisses you a single-minded intent, letting his lips slide over yours lazily, over and over, memorizing the imprint of you against his mouth. One hand drifts upward again, cupping your cheek as he tilts your head slightly, letting his tongue delve into your mouth and trace your teeth. It makes you gasp, and you retaliate with a gentle nip to his lower lip, silently begging for more. Javier moans into your mouth, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

Tightening his grip on your waist, Javier lifts you, placing you firmly on the desk, feet dangling a few inches from the floor. You know what he wants before he even has to ask and you give it him readily, wrapping your legs around his waist. Javier’s weight conforms to your own, molding against your body as you press into him, back arching in your submersion to his touch.

He is so eager; his kisses drench you in a deluge of incubated affection interspersed with need. Grasping at his shoulder, you pull him even closer, your other hand anxiously fiddling with his buttons as you sigh, reveling in the storm of his attention. Slowly, painstakingly, driven by a clamoring need for oxygen, he drags himself away from you, parting slowly, ever-loth to break the kiss.

You can’t help the shy smile that dances around your lips when you look up at him, standing above you. His chest is heaving, out of breath, hair somehow even more mussed than it was before. You suppose you can touch it now, so you do, two fingers brushing aside the fringe on his forehead.

Time, and space, and whatever else this stuff is made of have prevented from this alternate reality. until now. it has broken through the dam and caught you up in its awakening, broad and unrepentant.

Javier captures your hand as it lowers, pressing a kiss to the side of your palm. He’s so tender it makes you ache, and you wonder if this is why he stopped fucking his CIs. He requires something more intangible than what they could give him. “Javier,” you whisper.

He hums a question, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he watches you consider him, emotion lapping at the shores of unkempt eyes.

“You asked me to use your name. Earlier, I mean.” Should you feel embarrassed? Kissing a man several years your senior? Maybe you should. But you don’t. There’s a cordial warmth spreading through you, bolstered by his gentle touch, the outward connection of him and you that’s been built through months of inanimate remembrances.

“I know.” Javier nods and leans in again, his breath rippling across your skin. “Can you say it one more time, princesa? They say you need to do something three times” — a kiss to your cheek — “to make sure you really —“ a kiss to your forehead — “understand” — a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The words fall out of your mouth, splashes of unrestrained affection dappling each letter. “Duende, Javier,” you murmur against his lips. “Duende.”

javi tags: @frannyzooey @yespolkadotkitty @rentskenobi @goldenkenobi ​ @goldafterglow @teaofpeach ​ @justrunamok ​ @huliabitch @cri-me-a-river @littlevodika @catsnkooks @themarvelousbear @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @ladytrashbird @princessxkenobi @roxypeanut @dracos-jedi-marvel @a-seeker-of-imagination​ // taglist link in bio!

[tennessoui]

40 or 43 if you’re still taking prompts! i love ur AUs they’re so beautiful and contain so much brilliance within a short snippet!

it's been so long, anon, you probably forgot you sent this but here is prompt 40, exes meeting after not seeing each other for a long time. in true tennessoui fashion, they don't. actually. meet and/or see each other in this snippet. also in true tennessoui fashion, all tennessoui needs to decide to continue this is one (1) validation.

the backstory here is something i have been thinking about for days after a discord convo, where during the fight on mustafar, obi-wan hits anakin hard enough in the head that he loses all of his memories. obi-wan takes him with him for a few months but the wounds of Order 66 and vaderkin's role in what happened is too fresh for obi-wan to (understandably) get over, even if this anakin doesn't remember doing it, so they separate. this is set 8 years after Mustafar.

(1.7k)

“Kenobi won’t come,” the fighter pilot says immediately upon disembarking from his craft.

One commander lets out a groan. Someone else hits the durasteel side of the closest x-wing with a closed fist.

“Do we really need him?” Anakin demands, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s been eight years since the rise of the Empire. Surely a washed-up Jedi General from the Clone Wars won’t have people jumping to join the Rebellion!”

No one meets his eye. In fact, the air room suddenly feels very, very uncomfortable.

Organa exhales heavily and turns to look at Anakin, which is rare because the man never voluntarily looks at Anakin. “There are few names from that time that still carry an untainted weight in the eyes of the galaxy. Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of them.”

“I grew up hearing about The Team!” A teenager says eagerly. “I’d join any resistance movement if I knew both of ‘em were fighting with me!”

“You’re already a part of a resistance movement,” a girl next to him pointed out waspishly.

The boy waves her off. “Skywalker and Kenobi, saving the galaxy! It’d be wizard to be a part of that, and you know it, Aasha!”

Anakin’s throat tightens at that name. Skywalker. His name. Or, his old name. He has no more connection to it now than he does to the name Kenobi or Organa. They’re just letters.

He catches Organa’s eye. The man is looking at him with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Anakin knows instinctively that this is another one of the man’s tests. Will this time be the time that whatever injury has kept his memories suppressed for eight years is undone, and his previous life comes thundering through his mind?

He’s sick of these tests. He’s never failed one, but Organa never comes closer to trusting him afterward. He can only assume that whatever Anakin Skywalker had done in his last few days alive had been so terrible that only a few people knew the truth, and those who did would never forgive any version of him for it.

Organa certainly knew, though he had never shared that information with Anakin. And.

And Kenobi did as well. That was clear. They’d only been together for five standard months, sharing a small spacecraft made smaller by the fear, agony, grief, fury, and hurt radiating off of his companion into the space around them.

It had been hard to tell at the time if one of the things Obi-Wan Kenobi had been grieving was the loss of Anakin Skywalker. Anakin isn’t sure Kenobi would have been able to answer that either.

Some part of him that usually rests dormant in the back of his mind stirs and hisses that it had to have been. That Skywalker’s loss had torn Kenobi’s soul to shreds.

This doesn’t necessarily feel like his own thought, but it’s quite hard to ignore. He wants to rub a hand against his aching head, but that surely would tip off Organa that something’s--what? That he’s having thoughts?

Perish the very idea.

One would think Anakin hadn’t joined the Rebellion of his own free will. That Anakin hadn’t spent three standard months on the planet Kenobi had left him on before catching wind of the existence of the Rebel Alliance, that he hadn’t risked life and limb (more limb, apparently, given his missing flesh hand) to find them afterwards. He hadn’t known much anything about himself, but he had known that he hadn’t liked what the Imperial troops were doing, how much destruction they were causing, how the people they were supposed to be protecting hid in fear of their white armor.

Something in Anakin had rebelled at that, had thought it wrong and twisted. Someone needs to stop them, he’d thought. So he had found the people that were trying to.

And yes, a small part of him had thought--perhaps hoped--that Obi-Wan Kenobi would be a part of the Rebel Alliance by the time Anakin made his way to their biggest base. He had thought--perhaps hoped--that he would be able to prove himself to the other man. Look, he had wanted to scream at Kenobi, I’m not like that other Anakin, I would never do what he did. You can trust me. You can look me in the eye, I won’t stab you in the back.

Because something in him had yearned, still yearns, for Kenobi’s approval. For the weight of his gaze settling warmly around his shoulders. For his small smiles, his calloused hand clasping the back of Anakin’s head to bring their foreheads together in a gentle tap hello.

These are things Anakin knows he’s never experienced. But he must have in his past life, because his whole body will ache for them like a phantom limb. It’s been seven years and a few months since he last saw Kenobi.

“I’ll go,” Anakin says, which is what he said the last time they were standing like this, huddled around a fighter pilot delivering the same message of failure.

Organa’s mouth tightens in displeasure, and Mothma places a hand on his arm in warning.

Everyone else falls silent around them, as if recognizing the fact that they’re in the middle of a brewing storm, and they’re lucky to be in its eye right now.

“I do not think--” Organa starts, but Anakin cuts him off, crossing his arms even tighter over his chest, as if to hold himself back. The force suppression collar around his neck grows warmer, but it holds. It always holds.

“You’re already sending men who look like me to him!” Anakin points out irately. “The last four men could have been related to me!” It’s something Anakin’s thought about in the past but never said out loud. He’s glad to say it now though, especially because Organa flushes a bit which means Anakin’s right. “Just send me! If it doesn’t work, nothing in the galaxy will!”

Now, Anakin isn’t sure that’s true at all. He’s taking a huge leap with this, but it’s been seven years and a few months since he saw Obi-Wan Kenobi in person, and every part of him is aching with the desire to lay eyes on the man again. Will he hate him still? Will he see all the differences Anakin’s made to his appearance? Will he like them? He fights the urge to run a hand over his shorn hair.

Will Obi-Wan even let him through the door?

The people around them are murmuring now. They don’t know what Organa knows, what Anakin has guessed at: that Skywalker died a traitor to the Republic, that he had tried to strike down Obi-Wan like the Emperor struck down the rest of the Jedi. To them, these fortunate outsiders, they’re wondering why Anakin Skywalker hasn’t already been sent to locate and bring back their errant General.

Before, Anakin’s offer had been quiet, easily ignored over someone else’s. Now he’s loud and confident. Impossible to turn away without making a public scene, without explaining why. And Organa has tried very hard not to do that. For whatever reason, Anakin doesn’t know. All he knows is that after he’d been examined by a battalion of med droids and interrogated by all three leaders of the Rebellion, Organa had given him a list of rules he had to follow in order to join the Rebel Alliance. Firstly, never remove his cuffs and collar.

It’s not a slave collar and it won’t electrocute you if you touch it or try to take it off, Organa had told him when he’d blanched away at the sight. But I have been informed by a trusted ally that the Chance--the Emperor knows your Force Signature intimately. We cannot risk being found. It would kill all hope for us.

Secondly, never confirm his identity. Never talk about who he used to be.

People will know, Organa had grudgingly admitted. Skywalker was one of the faces of the Clone Wars. But you cannot confirm it. In fact.

Thirdly, give up the name Skywalker. Pick another last name, if not first as well.

But Anakin had been attached to his first name for some reason he didn’t know how to begin to question, so even after he toyed with the idea of changing it completely, he couldn’t go through with it. Weeks later he had shown up in Organa’s makeshift office.

I had a mother, didn’t I? He had asked, causing Organa to stiffen immediately.

Do you remember? Organa had interrogated immediately, his standard greeting for Anakin. Anakin had gotten the feeling, especially in those early days, that Organa was waiting with baited breath for Anakin to remember so he could try him for war crimes or treason or whatever it was that Skywalker had done.

No, he had responded honestly. Just a feeling. If I am to take a new last name, I want her name.

A few days later, Anakin had stumbled into his bunk, tired from a day of hard training, to see a packet of documents on his pillow.

Anakin Shmison was written at the top of the first page.

The list of rules goes on and on.

But nowhere does it say that Anakin Shmison isn’t allowed to mention Obi-Wan Kenobi in public. He just never has, because even the sound of the man’s name makes him feel very nauseous, a combination of butterflies and adder snakes wrestling around inside his stomach.

Bail Organa is looking like he’s regretting that oversight right now, but Anakin has backed him quite solidly into a proverbial corner. Either finally tell everyone what happened between Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi in the last few hours of the Republic, or give Anakin Shmison leave to retrieve Kenobi.

“Fine,” Organa gets out, jaw locked and vein throbbing in his temple. Anakin has the distinct feeling he’se spent a lot of his life on the receiving end of that expression. “Have this X-Wing refueled, and leave tonight.”

“No sir,” Anakin says, enjoying the way one of the man’s eyebrows shoot up in angry incredulity.

“No?” Organa asks. “Would you like more beauty rest, perhaps, Shmison?”

“No sir, I don’t need it,” this time he doesn’t resist running a hand through his hair, messing with its part so his longer bangs fall to one side and balance out the mysterious scar that bisects his eyebrow. He grins. “But I will need a craft that sits two. For the return trip.”

[shatouto]

more raised-sith anakin whump and jedi obi-wan comfort, co-written with @obiwanobi ! (also available on ao3) pls check out the rest of the series if you haven’t (it won’t make a lot of sense otherwise)

content note: non-graphic depiction of violence; mention of past sidious-style abuse; just please proceed with care

a little more

Anakin shivers alone in the nightly winds.

He counted exactly five sunsets and sunrises since the meditation incident. Obi-Wan never brought it up again, and acted like nothing happened. He still smiled and joked with such kind eyes; still asked Anakin about his progress on the newest cleaning droid in their quarters and offered to read to him before bed. Even Ahsoka never brought it up, even though Anakin was sure the Jedi would tell his apprentice about his major offense.

He couldn’t eat. He could hardly sleep. His stomach churned every time Obi-Wan said a gentle thing to him, in that usual melodic lilt of his. His breath halted every time Obi-Wan passed him by and pat his shoulder or brushed his hand. His Master had made him wait before, but never for this long without reminding him of his misdeed. But waiting time was meant to make the punishment more excruciating, so perhaps this is the point all along - that he suffers before he gets what he deserves. Or maybe the smiles are only a beautiful facade before the Jedi discards him for good. Because, let’s be frank: what worth does he have here?

The sky is a lightless inky ocean with not even a speck of starlight to speak of. Anakin turns his gaze one more time towards the lights of the Jedi dormitories. This is what he has to do, to be able to stay, he reasons. This is the only way.

He makes his way down.

The Lower Levels of Coruscant are singularly illuminated by artificial light, if they are illuminated at all. Here where celestial lights never reach, every grease-streaked face is tinted in the neon magenta and cyan of gaudy store signs, or the sickly green of long battery life storm lanterns. The alleys are perpetually murky, a certain stickiness that holds the sole of your shoes whenever you peel your feet from the ground. A cacophony of howling fight dogs echoes from afar, and the light above him flickers. Anakin doesn’t even need to glance around.

Here, there is no shortage of fists itching to throw a punch.

It takes little more than a shove and a cuss, to get himself thrown to the ground. Anakin springs back up onto his feet with ease; by then, several people, of various species and stature, have gathered around him. Some of them reeks of booze, others of blood. From there on, it’s easy.

His knuckles collide with a jaw. Bone cracks under his metallic fist. Force-blinds are no match for him; he has taken down dozens on his own when he was but a whelp under Master Sidious’s tutelage, thirteen years of age or so. That’s not to say they don’t land a good blow here and there, but a few bruises on the face are hardly more than a tickle compared to the burn scars that litter his body. When a sudden blast rings in the relative silence and misses him by a hair, Anakin grins. He whips around and uses the Force to simultaneously yank the blaster from the shooter’s hand and fling the marksman across the street. He opens fire.

Some of them fall, some of them run. Some of them remain, and then run when they see him toss the blaster away in favor of meeting them hand to hand. The more they come at him, shoot at him, the more his blood infuses with thrill. He feels renewed in misery, in the knowledge that this show of abandon will surely earn him the punishment he deserves, where all else failed. His metal fingers are capable of cutting skin, breaking bones, if he so wants, and he does. There’s blood on his hands, warm, soaking the sleeves of his too-soft robes. There has always been blood on his hand; a little more doesn’t make any difference.

When he’s done, Anakin thinks, he’ll be back in the Jedi’s quarters and kneel at the door to his bedroom. He’ll wait there, ready, so that when the sun rises, the Jedi will come and see what he has done. This is not something the Jedi can ignore in favor of delaying his punishment. He smiles and shivers at the same time at just the thought of it.

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

Obi-Wan’s startled voice runs him through like a spear. Anakin stops dead in his movements, wide-eyed. Obi-Wan? Here?

His pause promptly earns him a blaster shot to the shoulder. He snaps his head back towards the bastard who shot him, hand thrusted out in a Force-push. The shooter flies through the air and slams against a store sign. Another blaster fires.

Obi-Wan deflects it away from Anakin.

Anakin doesn’t know what’s happening anymore.

He staggers back and back away. This isn’t right. The Jedi should be asleep. He’s not meant to be in this nest of rats and vipers; not meant to know anything of this, to see Anakin in this state—just, just observe the aftermath and dispense his justice. Only the aftermath. Only when Anakin is ready.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Anakin says, his center lowered, his stance battle-ready. The scums around him scurry like cockroaches under the light of a lightsaber, even as Obi-Wan thumbs it off and clips it to his belt. “You should be in bed, not here.”

“The same could be said to you,” Obi-Wan says. Neon lights flicker on his face, his furrowed brows and tight lips, and there’s no light that’s ever been so dull, duller than the spark of dismay in his eyes that Anakin doesn’t want to acknowledge. “I would much prefer you to come back...”

“I have to be here.”

Obi-Wan is unflinching. He crosses his arms not only in a refusal to engage, but also in clear disapproval. “May I ask why?”

It’s the disapproval that makes Anakin’s heart drop.

“No,” he grits, breaths stuttering. He closes and opens his hand and warm sticky blood seeps into the cracks of his palm. If there is some semblance of a reflexive surface here, Anakin would look right into it, so desperate he is to see what color his eyes are. How does he look like to Obi-Wan right now? Does he deserve a punishment yet? Does he deserve anything?

Because if not, if he doesn’t, if he has no worth and Obi-Wan grows tired of him, he’ll be on his own again, facing the fact that he has lost everything and everyone and has nowhere to go and nothing to be. Hells, Anakin knows he shouldn’t be like this. He should be stronger than this. He shouldn’t be so weak as to fear losing any one man, let alone one Jedi, one stupid Jedi; he shouldn’t care; why does he care so much; he hates it, he hates it.

“Why are you here?” Anakin backs away, towards the source of sound - there’s a gambling den nearby, where he could conceivably squirrel himself away. “What are you trying to do?”

Obi-Wan only raises his hands, palm forward. “To get you home. Anakin, you have...”

“Bantha shit,” Anakin spits. They’ve gathered yet again a sizable amount of curious onlookers. “What do you want, Jedi?”

“Anakin, please, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Anakin roars, even though that is exactly what he has been seeking. Direct orders, uncomplicated. But not like this. Not with this benevolence. “If you’re not going to answer me then don’t fucking tell me what to do!” He steps back and back, and the only thing the Jedi does is match every backward step of his with one step forward of the exact same length. “Fuck you and your nice little lies; never say one straightforward thing, ever, because you’re too good for it, what a good Jedi. Just say you want to drag me back by the scruff and punish the nine hells out of me.” He gives a teeth-gritted grin. “Say it! I know you want to say it!”

Obi-Wan doesn’t even deign to look taken aback. He says nothing, does nothing, just stands there in that damned little display of harmlessness, so patient, so calm, like he’d be ready to ask for a cup of tea and sip it slowly while watching Anakin any moment now. So that’s how it is, huh?

The bystanders scatter in shrieks when one of them is suddenly lifted in the air, scrabbling at their neck with strangled noises. Anakin’s eyes are not even on them; he glares at the Jedi as his fingers curl. “Say it.”

Obi-Wan finally moves. He stands between the hapless stranger and Anakin. His eyes harden, the shadows on his face sharpen, and his voice turns steel-cold. “No.” He takes Anakin wrist in a vise-tight grip. “Let them go. Stop this, now.”

Finally.

Anakin lets go. Not just of the person, but of everything. He drops to his knees with his wrist still in Obi-Wan’s hand, and when it’s released, his arm swings down limply, colliding with his thigh in a dull slap. His head hangs as his eyes squeeze shut. He tucks his tongue back and tries not to wonder what it’ll be this time - lightning or lightsaber burn, electro-whip lashes or an invisible hand around his neck, water running over his face or the cold hard curved confines of the Sphere...

But nothing comes.

“Anakin.”

Obi-Wan’s voice has always been very soft for someone so capable at fighting; even so, this is probably the gentlest tone he’s used yet.

“Anakin,” he says again, and the name feels safe in his mouth.

Anakin won’t be fooled. His Master liked to lull him into a sense of safety during his lessons, coaxing him to let down his guard just to strike harder after and make sport of his tattered body. He should know better. He should…

“Anakin, please, look at me.”

Obi-Wan’s voice is worth a little more pain.

He opens his eyes to find Obi-Wan’s. The Jedi is crouched before him, close enough to touch if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. Anakin can’t decipher the look on his face or even the hand hanging in the air between them that doesn’t have a lightsaber in it ready to strike him or lightning to burn him.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Anakin doesn’t dare to breathe too hard.

Obi-Wan’s brows knit together. “I could not understand why you would leave in the midst of a night to do this. Where have I wronged you?” He sighs again into silence. “You scared me, Anakin.”

A punishable offense. So here’s Obi-Wan Kenobi, listing his sins before punishing him, ordering him to keep his eyes open in wait of the punishment to come. Anakin stares at him, eyes stinging, waiting. But instead of the burning of a blade on his back or a slow Force-choke around his neck, calloused fingers find his wrist. They move lightly above his skin, cautious, taking their time as if to unravel the tension under his flesh, wrapping around his hand. Anakin braces himself for the twist, for the sudden deceit and pain. Instead, Obi-Wan's thumb starts rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand.

“May I take care of you, then?” Obi-Wan asks, and something in his voice breaks a bit. “You’re hurt, dear one.”

These last words are like a saber to his heart. Anakin never thought Obi-Wan could be this cruel.

“Don’t,” he chokes out his last defiance, as his fists start trembling, “don’t call me that.” He bows his head deeply and shuts his eyes and goes as still and silent as possible. His insides are curling in on themselves, yet he doesn’t dare move. He’s nearly holding his breath, as the air moves around him. Fabric rustles, and he can feel arms drawing around him, and This is it he thinks, this is it, the pain will come and he will finally be released—

Obi-Wan pulls him to his chest.

This is not right. This is not real. This can’t be true. Nobody could be this gentle; nobody could forgive just like that, not with the insults and insolence and innumerable unpunished offenses old and new. Anakin does not get touched like this. He should not. His shoulders are squared stiff and his muscles constrict so hard that he starts shaking. He can barely breathe, because every breath knives into his tightened throat. His nose stings and his eyes burn and he gasps for air, only to take in a sharp sob.

“Please don’t… Please don’t do this to me.” Anakin gulps, clutching his own torso, fearful of the sudden warmth and tenderness. “Just—just punish me, I deserve it, please punish m—” He nearly bites his tongue trying to suppress the next sob. Tears always angered his Master. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I beg of you, please stop making me wait, Master, I’m sorry, please, just…”

Obi-Wan pulls back only to take Anakin’s face in his hands. Thumbs wipe over his cheekbones. “I’m not your Master,” he hushes, brushing hair back from Anakin’s forehead. “I’m not going to punish you, Anakin.”

And then Obi-Wan does the unthinkable: he lowers his outermost mental shields. He lets Anakin in, on his own. His concern scatters across the expanse of his psyche like gemstones, like blinking stars. His words are as true as the moon. I would like to bring you home. I would like to keep you safe. Obi-Wan’s hand cradles the base of his skull. Lips press into his hair. I would like to see you smile.

Anakin’s mouth falls open in a wail. He smushes his face against the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and soaks his robes with tears. He cries his throat raw and parched, cries until his jaws tremble, his teeth clatter, his head goes light. He lets go of his own flanks and bunches his fists into Obi-Wan’s robes instead. Obi-Wan’s arms are wrapped firmly around him like a promise.

Anakin hiccups one last time, and sags.

—

Ahsoka paces near the Temple’s gate. The Temple Guards glance at her every once in a while, and she’s a little bit annoyed, maybe, but that’s nothing compared to the worry brewing in her chest right now. Dawn is peeking at the horizon, and her Master is nowhere to be found.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” she mutters to herself, flooding her and Obi-Wan’s bond with the rightful amount of indignation. You should’ve taken me with you, Master!

She’s surprised to feel Obi-Wan’s response immediately. A brief sense of reassurance, and a nearness - he’s approaching. His presence is too mired in concerns for her to make out the exact message, but she gets the sentiment. Her worries go through and mirror his own. They’re probably worrying about the same thing, then.

Ahsoka knows Obi-Wan is back before he’s even within sight. Yet the sight of him still suffuses her with equal parts relief and amazement. In the light of dawn, her Master marches into the Jedi Temple, a gentle silhouette against the rosy sky. Limp in his arms, head pillowed on his shoulder, is Anakin No-Name, formerly known as Darth Vader, currently unconscious.

“Let them both in.” Ahsoka tells the Temple Guards, showing them her datapad. “Words from Master Yoda.”

Obi-Wan looks at her gently, mouthing a soft thank. Her steps fall beside his, and for a while there are only the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the great hall.

“Master.” Her eyes flick to Anakin, noting his red, puffy eyes in stark contrast with his ashen face and… are those dried tears? There is blood on the ex-Sith’s robes and on her Master’s and she sort of really wants to know which is whose. “Is he alright?”

“More or less,” Obi-Wan answers. Ahsoka frowns at him, yet he seems too deep in thoughts to notice that. She sets a hand on his arm.

“Master, the Council has…”

“I know, young one.” Obi-Wan pauses when Anakin chuffs, shuffling his arm to rearrange the ex-Sith in a more comfortable position, and continues on his way. “I would prefer you to go back to sleep. This is my responsibility to bear.”

[hoe-biwankenobi]

Dripping with Gold - Anakin Skywalker (1/2)

Apparently this is going to be the first SW fic I share. This is an interesting turn of event as I didn’t plan on having it done before my approx. 100000 WIPs, but honestly I like it, I truly do. So uh, enjoy!

PS: There WILL be a part 2 as there was a piece of dialogue I really wanted to get out there but couldn’t fit in this one. Stay tuned!

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Dark side!reader

Word count: 3304

Warnings: kinda emotional manipulation ngl, me liking evil monologues waaaaayyyyy too much.

Summary: “The dark side surrounds you. Your eyes, they’re--” There was a slight tremor in his voice and his breathing visibly accelerated. The anger that had momentarily flared in his eyes was gone now, leaving its place to a helplessness that made your heart ache. “This isn’t right, I’m dreaming, you couldn’t have--You led everyone believe you were gone, you led me to believe you had left me behind--”

The cold rain hit your face like ice shards as you laid on your back, motionless and in pain. You were surrounded by rocks and darkness, barely touched by the dull light of the day that began to dim already. Your breath was ragged and your limbs were numb to your command, even your voice wouldn’t respond to you. You tried to scream, you begged the force to let you call for help, to give you back control of your arms to at least attempt to flag a passing ship--any passing ship, but nothing came out of either actions. 

You didn’t know how long you had been there, or really what had happened. You had been on a training flight with your Master when your ship was shot down, you didn’t even know by whom. The crash had been rough, and the last thing you remembered before waking up in the crevasse was the ship breaking in half and propelling you in the opposite direction of your Master. It could have been any time measure really, but the dryness in your throat and your cramping stomach led you to believe you had been there for at least a day. You weren’t bleeding an awful lot, but you definitely had broken bones.

Nobody was coming for you. You had felt your Master’s force signature twice in the distance already, and no matter how hard you tried to project to him, he never answered. You were too weak, probably, and if it had really been an entire day, it meant he had abandoned the searches already. That much was the Jedi way, to be ready to let go at any time. You should have accepted it, after all, you lived by that code too, but something about the slow, agonising death alone in the cold that had taken a hold of you left a bitter hatred linger in your heart. 

Hot tears started to stream down your face, stinging your wounds and mixing with the burning ice of the rain. You wanted to scream, not for somebody to hear you, but to let out the choking pressure that gripped your chest with vicious hands. Despite your shivering in the cold, your muscles were burning with anger and fear of the tethering edge you were dangling from. You both wanted to run away from this planet, and to close your eyes with nightfall and never wake up. 

Then, a shadow settled over your still form. You could barely see who it was. 

“Master Ki-Adi?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible over the battering of the rain. 

“You must be mistaken, young one” An unknown voice replied as the figure crouched in front of you. “My name is Darth Tyrannus, but I can assist you all the same”

You willed yourself to snap out of the unpleasant memory with a snarl, hitting the armrest of the chair you were sitting in. The dark tapestry of the old temple you claimed for yourself on Jaguada greeted you back in the real world with a growing headache. If you started to have visions of the past, especially ones tied with the Jedi, it meant they were closing in. Yet, it felt strange to have this one in particular, one that was so intertwined to the dark side before you even turned. 

You knew who was coming for you. 

You couldn’t help but smile at how brilliantly your own fortune had turned. Out of all the Jedi that could have made the trip, it was the exact one you wanted to see more than anything. If you concentrated enough, you could feel his force signature slowly spread around the barren lands of Jaguada as he got closer to your location.

The last time you saw Anakin, you were both 17 years old inseparable padawans. He didn’t have a lot of friends at the temple, mostly due to him being trained outside of the regular padawan learners classes. You weren’t very outgoing either, so more often than not, you ended up hanging out together. It however became more than friendly interactions after a few years, and you found yourselves in love despite the Jedi code. His name alone brought memories of warm embraces and sneaking around between training sessions, something neither the Jedi or the Sith could ever make you let go of. Now, Anakin was the only vestige of your heart that was still rooted in the light side.

But you knew. You knew there was a darkness that clung to Anakin, there had always been. A frustration, a recklessness, an anger, an all encompassing fear of loss; you knew it wouldn’t be as hard as any other Jedi to convince him he didn’t belong on the light side of the force. Most importantly, you knew you could do it. You were almost certain his attachment to you ran deep enough to remain alive even after four years apart. 

You had followed his progress from afar, his slow descent closer to the dark side from his reaction to your death up to this moment in the Clone Wars after countless losses and traumatic baggage. You weren’t the only one either, you knew the Sith were interested in him as well, but you were determined to get him first. You wouldn’t let Darth Tyrannus, or worse, Darth Sidious get their hands on him first. 

You had been Dooku’s apprentice for a time after he had pulled you from that shipwreck. He taught you the ways of the dark side after giving you the push you needed to turn, but soon enough, you began to grow displeased with the Sith. There were always talks of a masterplan for which you were never privy, and you knew Darth Sidious did not like your presence by Dooku’s side. The Sith, whom you were told weren’t as restrictive as the Jedi, turned out to be exactly the same in the end; the never ending rule and the cycles of power designed to keep you kneeling only pushed you away in the exact same fashion as the Jedi. 

Your Master’s betrayal was the final straw. You could still vividly remember the harsh red glow of his blade greeting you in the middle of the night, your instincts jolting you awake and using the force to protect yourself. He had been sent flying so hard and so fast that the north wall of your quarters had collapsed on impact, partially burying him in debris. You knew you were stronger with the force than him at that point, but his experience far outweighed yours, so you grabbed your lightsaber and disappeared into the night before he could get up and resume the fight. 

Your journey to Jaguada hadn’t been easy, but you managed to evade the Sith and take residence on a planet that once belonged to them, to add to the irony. You were left alone in your retreat in the margins of the only city in the never ending desert, none of the occasional smugglers and scavengers brave enough to approach the temple. Your only visitor in two years was, in fact, the Jedi that had just crossed the threshold of the temple. Moments later, Anakin stood on the other side of the large, empty room, and your breath caught in your throat. While there was no doubt it was really him only by his strong and distinct force signature you’d recognize everywhere, it was like he was another person entirely. 

You observed him intensely as he did you, taking in how his features had gone from boyish to absolutely handsome, and how his larger shoulders and intimidating posture projected the image of an accomplished warrior instead of a teenager. His eyes, as beautiful as ever, were locked with your golden ones as a thousand emotions passed through them. Short lived relief, shock, disbelief, hurt, all of which were translated in echo in his force signature.

Then, your name was spoken softly, as if he wanted to make sure it was really you.

“Anakin” You simply replied, giving him a smile. “It’s good to see you again”

He didn’t return it, no, instead, his gorgeous features contorted with incomprehension and pain. “You’re a sith. All this time, you were a Sith”

Your smile dropped and your expression hardened. “I am most certainly not” 

“The dark side surrounds you. Your eyes, they’re--” There was a slight tremor in his voice and his breathing visibly accelerated. The anger that had momentarily flared in his eyes was gone now, leaving its place to a helplessness that made your heart ache. “This isn’t right, I’m dreaming, you couldn’t have--You led everyone believe you were gone, you led me to believe you had left me behind--”

“Anakin” You called his name again, standing up from your chair and taking a step towards him. The way he backed away hurt more than any lightsaber wound. “I never meant to leave you behind. All I’ve wanted for the last four years was getting back to you, but I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready yet for you to see me like this”

“What happened?” He asked under his breath, still guarded against you.

“We crashed the ship, Master Ki-Adi barely looked for me before leaving me to an agonizing death” You couldn’t hide the bitterness of your words. “Then I was found by Count Dooku, who showed me the ways of the dark side”

He took a step further away.

“I’m not one of them anymore, Anakin” You repeated, tempting a step forward. “I couldn’t--I wouldn’t stay with them, the simple mention of them brings a bad taste in my mouth. I left to make my own path, one where I don’t have to bend to pointless rules, where I don’t need to break my back to please, where I am free”

“Then come back with me to the Jedi Temple” He said, his eyes shining with something alike to hope. “If you renounced the Sith, you--you could return home, finish your training, become a Jedi again”

You couldn’t hide your sorrow. “I won’t return”

“The Jedi Council will understand--”

“I know they would” You cut him off gently. “But I don’t want to. I am not willing to give up my freedom for the people that left me to die alone. You are the only good thing left for me there, and I want you by my side, but not there”

“Don’t” He warned, his hand reaching for his lightsaber on his belt. “Don’t play this game with me”

You unclasped yours as well, but before he could ignite his, you handed him the silver hilt. His arm faltered at his side as he stared in confusion at your lightsaber, like he wasn’t sure if it was a trap or not.

“I’m not playing any games, Anakin” You insisted. “I have no desire to fight you. My heart and my life is yours, it has always been”

Before you could blink, the saber was gone from your hand and a blur of blue and red crossed at your throat. You however remained calm, meeting his conflicted gaze through the harsh purple hue from the lightsabers’ juxtaposition.

“Give me one reason not to bring your back to Coruscant as a prisoner now”

“Bring me, don’t bring me, it doesn’t matter” You replied. “Whatever you choose to do with me won’t quiet down the little voice in your head that knows you don’t belong with the Jedi either. I know about what happened to your mother--”

“You don’t know anything!” His voice rose up as the sabers inched closer to you. His teeth were gritted and his jaw locked tightly. “The dark side is lying to you, I won’t let it lie to me too”

“Is it? ” You raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t let you go help her when your instinct told you she was in danger. They frowned upon your actions when it was theirs that led to her death. I know what you did to the sand people who took her, and I think they deserved it”

His grip faltered, but he still held you trapped between the sabers. Pain, so much pain reflected in his eyes in a storm of emotions.

“And do you think what they did to your padawan was fair?” You added, and while you could definitely see a reaction through the shift in his expression, he remained unmoving. “Yes, I know about that too. They were ready to punish her for a crime that wasn’t her doing, they didn’t trust her because they didn’t trust you”

“Please stop”

“You need to open your eyes, Anakin” You spoke softly. “The Jedi are not what they were. They became politicians, they care more about appeasing the public opinion than upholding real peace. They will let civil war rage on, they will let people die because politics say they can’t be involved. They will let slave merchants go on their business because it benefits the Republic, in the end. Do you see how wrong all of this is?”

He retracted the blades of the sabers, letting his hands fall at his side, and you took the invitation to get closer until you were standing right in front of him. He didn’t push away from you or make a move to get away as his head seemed deep in troublesome reflection. 

“I am not bound by these rules” You whispered as your hand gently cupped his cheek, bringing back his eyes to yours. “Neither should you have to be. You are strong, the strongest Jedi to have ever lived, and you are destined to be so much more than a bell boy for the Republic. You could end wars, you could end slavery, and I want that too. Alone I can’t do much, but it will be possible with you by my side. There will be no Masters but ourselves, no code but our own. Nobody ever again will have to suffer as we did once we bring our justice to the Galaxy”

“I… I can’t do this to the Jedi order” He muttered, leaning into your touch. His words lacked the conviction he was trained to uphold, and while you knew you had to carry him to the edge just a little bit longer, you couldn’t help the triumphant feeling washing over you. He was so close to falling, it was almost euphoric. “I can’t do this to Obi-Wan”

You slowly pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes at the more than familiar feeling of having him this close. Memories of stolen moments in the Temple away from prying eyes flooded your mind and soaked into your force signature in the form of a warm, all consuming wave. His arms around you, your hands caressing his neck, bright eyes reflecting the sun rays hitting down on you, hidden confessions and promises of forever. A single warm tear rolled down your thumb on his cheek, and that’s how you knew he was seeing the same images. The love you had for each other was tragically beautiful, but it wouldn’t have to be anymore. 

“Do you still love me, Anakin?” You finally said, your voice barely over a breath in the wind. 

“Yes”

“The Council would never let us be together” You slowly reopened your eyes, but his were still tightly shut. “They would expel us. They’ll never understand what we have, they’ll never understand what we mean to each other. I love you with all my heart, Anakin”

His breath hitched into a sob as you were met with his blue eyes glistening like crystals. 

“Stay with me” You offered once again. “Nobody will be able to take me away from you again. I’m already more powerful than Dooku, and you are more powerful than Sidious himself. There will be no fear, no pain, no hiding”

He just kept staring into your eyes as the remaining of the little resolve he had melted away like ice under a flame. The whirlpool of emotions he was projecting all over the room was intense and vivid as it swirled around you, and that’s when you felt it: a tipping in the force. It was clear and strong, and you knew this was it. He had made his choice.

“I don’t want to feel those things anymore, I want what you said we could have” His voice cracked. “How do I get there? Please tell me how”

“Kiss me”

A breath escaped his lips as he cautiously closed the small distance to press his lips to yours. You took the first slow moments to relax against him, savouring the feeling of wholy having him back to you. Your hand found the back of his neck and his hair that had gotten longer since his padawan days, tangling your fingers through his loose lock. The kiss turned a bit more hasty and aggressive as he began pressing into you, like he too realized you were his without being scared of the consequences. You finally broke away to breathe, meeting his eyes again where you could observe a newfound determination. 

“Let go of all that slows you down, Anakin” You panted as the distant sound of lightsabers hitting the ground reached your ears. “Tell me what you want”

“I want everything” He mumbled as his nose trailed impatiently on your cheek. “I want to stop the people who bring suffering to the galaxy. I want to hunt down slavers and let them know what true fear is, I want to free the galaxy of tyranny. And I want to love you through it all, I want you with me”

“Then it’s yours” You smiled. “It’s all yours. All you have to do is take it. Embrace it”

In a heartbeat, his lips were back on yours with a passion you had never felt in him before. His hands circled your waist and pulled you impossibly closer to him, his fingers pressing hard enough for you to feel it through your robes. You could barely keep up with his pace as he took full control of the kiss, bruising your lips with his furious pace. He was letting go of four years of pain, four years of stress where the world kept taking away from him without giving anything back. Now it was his turn to take.

He backed you up to the throne-like chair you had been sitting on earlier until the back of your knees hit the seat, but you flipped the positions around and gently pushed him back into it and broke away from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes, a golden-like yellow matching yours greeting you instead of the blue you were used to. You took a moment to admire him as he sat back in his throne like a born king laying his claim on the world. He was even more handsome like this, with that little smirk on his face and power exuding from every fiber of his being. He reached for you and you straddled him, resting your hands flat on the dark tunic covering his chest. His left hand raised to engulf yours over his heart and gave it a little squeeze.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“Indeed it does” He teased, looking up and down your form on his knees. Then, he lifted his right hand and brushed his gloved thumb over your lower lip, eyeing his motion with what resembled fascination. “I feel it. The dark side of the force, I mean. It’s… stronger. Untamed. Pure”

“It’ll make you even more powerful” You smiled as he looked back into your eyes. “You can do anything now, it’s your choice, nobody can stop you”

He slowly grinned back at you.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

[cjstalkingstarwarsagain]

hi! i’ve recently decided to rewatch all the star wars movies and take notes on them and then,,, share them with you. so if you’re even mildly interested in my star wars opinions, here you go :)

i’ll divide it into a couple categories so,,,

well start with rogue one!!

shit that made me giggle

"oh look, here’s lyra back from the dead. it’s a miracle."

everything K2 says and does. i love him and he’s perfect.

i love the continuous attempts by K2 to appear imperial and how he fails every time. not a single storm trooper or officer ever believes him when he starts running his mouth.

so sorry but bohdi getting his cable caught and trying to shake it loose is such an adorably human moment. makes me giggle every time.

i honestly thought this section would be longer, this movie made me laugh a bunch. 

stuff i don’t like or doesn’t make sense

why does jyn start believing in the rebellion? there’s no indication that she cared before they found her. there’s no real turning point that we can see. she just,,, suddenly is really into this shit. which is strange because the only reason she ever joined was because she was given a non-choice (either help or get put back in prison). i guess i can kinda see how her father dying could have changed her, but we see none of that on the ship after his death. we just get to the rebel council and all of a sudden she’s the poster girl for rebellion.

saw seems really stable at the beginning of the film, so why did he go seemingly crazy and paranoid? it’s probably explained in the novelization but that’s no excuse to just have a character go crazy with really no explanation or backstory.

that being said, a lot of the character development is pretty lacking. i don’t think i’d care about these characters nearly as much if i wasn’t already a star wars fan.

video game cut scene style general tarkin

bor gullet is supposed to make you lose your mind but bohdi was pretty much fine after like,,, a day

how does the death star,,,, move?? like i know it can but has that ever been explained? is it like little thrusters? like the ones you can see in real life to stabilize things in space? there’s nothing i can visually see. i’m not mad about it i just wanna know.

why does saw insist on staying behind? why doesn’t he come and help?? it would have been so easy to just leave but he insists on staying behind and just watching as death inches closer. i think it doesn’t make sense because we know *so little* about his character. give me more on him, make me understand.

since james earl jones is getting older, vader sounds older. was there??? nothing the audio or editing department could have done about that??? not super mad about this one just because darth vader is really cool and i’ll never really complain too much about darth vader screen time.

when the fuck did jyn become a motivational speaker??

my one gripe about pretty much every star wars movie is the sheer number of times people climb through huge shafts and jump around and shit and they’re always *fine*. no way they wouldn’t fall to their deaths in any normal situations.

can someone?? check the science of the hammerhead corvette?? because there’s no gravity or weight in space right?? theoretically all you gotta do is give that star destroyer a bump and it’s spinning out, right?? i know absolutely nothing about space physics but i gotta be right. maybe i’m wrong. i dunno. i’m dumb as rocks. hear that baby girl?? it’s the spare change rattling around in my skull. i got pennies where my brain is.

absolutely no fucking shot cassian survived a blaster hit AND that fall AND climbed out. my belief simply cannot be suspended that much.

DUDE I FORGOT THAT THE DEATH STAR CAN TRAVEL THROUGH HYPERSPACE HOW DOES WORK SOMEONE TELL ME!!!!!

why doesn’t vader just,,, force grab the plans. i know he sees them. why not just force stop the guy running away with them??

final note now that the movie is over. yes, it’s got a lot of issues. the plot is ehhh at times. the trailers don’t match up with the movie shots AT ALL (i wanna know what happened behind the scenes with that). the character development is lacking in many major ways (that has not stopped me from loving these characters though, but that’s the autism talking). but like i’ll say in the "stuff i liked" section, this is such a damn cool movie. i was once talking about it with an older friend of mine and he said seeing rogue one in theaters felt like watching the original trilogy in theaters back in the 70s and 80s and honestly that’s such a compliment. i love this movie, i really do.

just cool shit,,, you know the vibe

DEATH TROOPERS

krennic is probably one of my favorite imperial officers. for some reason he just really sells it for me, the evil and manipulation that borderlines in try hard. and (i mention it more later because you see it more in the "choke on your aspirations" scene) beyond that just the fact that he’s?? a guy. just a dude. at any given moment he could be described as just hanging out. but he’s trying so hard (for whatever reason, we don’t know his evil motivations) to be this big bad evil dude. and it’s just interesting to see someone *trying* to be imperial and *trying* to be evil, as opposed to a tarkin-type character who’s just naturally an asshole.

i love the rogue one main theme. don’t even talk to me. it’s so cool.

it’s cool to see more about the birth of the death star, seeing other people learn about it. sort of realizing the fear and terror that everyone must have been experiencing. especially after being a star wars fan for so long and being like, yeah it’s the death star it’s just a staple of this universe. it reminds me that "oh god this was a planet killer and this was the first time something like that had ever even been heard of".

there’s gorgeous visuals in this movie.

i like the "i’m wanted in 12 systems" guy cameo (did you know his name is cornelius? i googled it)

when the storm trooper asks for papers?? like fuck yeah show me what life is like under imperial rule. give me that shit.

chirrut is so badass i’ll never get over it

"i’m one with the force and the force is with me" i’m eating that shit UP! salivating over the meal in front of me. i really want more exploration of the guardians and jedi worship in general. like gimme that weird funky space religion.

seeing an at-st just walk around a town. i dunno i like that shit.

K2 saying sorry for hitting cassian. i’m so soft on this robot.

"clear of hostiles,,,, ONE HOSTILE"

jyn stepping in front of K2 to protect him after she (not ten minutes ago) made the comment “i’m just afraid they’ll miss you and hit me”. jyn,,, your soft side is showing,,,,

i like the cool machine blaster that baze has. it’s awesome seeing different blaster styles when originally the only variation we really saw was chewie’s cross bow style blaster.

i really wanna see more of baze and cirruit. i wanna know what happened that made baze stop believing. i wanna know how they met. i wanna see them evolve and grow together.

i like that jyn argues that 16 is too young to be a solider (she’s 21 in the movie). i like that she’s mad that she’s young and has been put in a position to protect herself and then later save the galaxy. (for context: luke and leia were 19 in a new hope. anakin is 19 in attack of the clones, ~22 when he became darth vader, and rey is 19 in force awakens. stop putting the fate of the galaxy in the hands of people who are *barely* adults)

the testing of the death star is awesome. love seeing wicked cool space weapons. when it blocks out the sun? ominous as hell fuck yeah.

it’s interesting that baze says cassian doesn’t look like a killer, that "he has the face of a friend", when one of the first things we saw him do was kill a man. i think about that a lot. does that say more about baze’s ability to read people or does it say more about who cassian is deep down, beyond what he’s done to serve the rebellion?

cassian’s relationship with death and killing is very interesting. you could argue that cassian is just as brainwashed and deep in the rebellion as anyone imperial. i really hope it’s something that gets explored in his stand alone show. he mentions he’s lost everything and has been a rebel since he was 6. gimme cassian andor backstory.

"careful not to choke on your aspirations director" is probably some of the most dramatic-anakin-skywalker shit i’ve ever seen vader do

i like seeing rebel infighting. so often it seems there’s always general consensus about what the rebellion wants, but it’s good to see that they don’t always agree on how to rebel.

i love the consistent "found family" rebel alliance shit in these movies. it makes my dick so hard.

ARTOO AND THREEPIO CAMEO FUCK ME UP THOSE ARE MY BOYS

okay i totally get that the empire is evil, i really do, but rogue one (and lots of moments in the sequels) really reminds me how fucking cool some of their shit is. like death troopers? imperial droids like K2? the base on scarif? vader’s castle on mustafar and his bacta tank?? fuck me UP.

i loved hearing the troopers doing their dumb small talk about the T-15s on the beach.

i think ben mendelssohn is perfect for the role of krennic, no notes there. he’s just like?? a guy and he’s doing everything he can to fit into this evil role and he just wants to be like this big bad imperial boy on campus. i don’t know. i don’t have the words right now to express how fuckin awesome he is. i’ll write an essay about it later.

THE AT-AT COMING OUT OF THE MIST?? CHRIST ON A BIKE. LAY ME TO REST. LOVE IT.

fucking love me some female fighter pilots. the women of star wars are so badass. doing justice to my return of the jedi ladies.

i think a whole lot about jyn giving K2 a blaster. the way he takes it and looks at it and holds it so gently. i think that’s the first time a human has trusted him with a blaster since his reprogramming. he seems so appreciative of that trust.

i love seeing the faces of baze and the other rebels when a few of the x-wings show up and take down an at-at. i’m so very soft for the relationship between these rebels. not to be cliche, but the *hope* that they have. it’s so moving. this movie is just so full of that quintessential rebel feeling.

hey so i’m super emotional about the death of K2 okay? because in the novelizations you learn that in the last second k2 had before a full shut down, he ran a simulation where cassian lived and even though he knew it was impossible, it made him happy. FURTHERMORE K2 is very well known and his name is often listed along side jyn’s in terms of talking about the history of the rebellion.

chirrut and baze’s deaths are so important to me. we know they’re best friends, and even though we don’t know how long they’ve been together, they love each other so deeply. chirrut being the path for baze to return to the force? touching. i so wish these dumb force husbands could have had more screen time. baze calling chirrut back?? chirrut telling him to find him in the force?? baze looking to see the man he loves one more time before he dies??reminds me of the silken quote about dying in your best friends arms because it’s all you know. anywho,,, if star wars canon has any mercy then these two lovers are force ghosts together rn. don’t care how you feel or whether you "ship" them or not. love comes in so many forms and they encompass all that love.

terribly sorry but i think about those two star destroyers colliding with the rogue one main theme playing over it every day. it’s,,,,, so,,,, ( ´∀｀)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again BEN MENDELSSOHN??? UH YEAH

krennic watching his weapon (his beautiful, successful weapon) power up and kill him,,, the poetic justice of it all,,,,

any time anyone says "may the force be with you" i dunno maybe it’s my religious trauma but i’m head over heels for that good shit

the star destroyer coming out of hyper space as the rebels are escaping and some of the ships hit the destroyer?? one of my favorite things in the new star wars movies is directors and writers saying "oh this can totally happen" and they DO IT

jyn mentioning earlier in the film that she isn’t used to people sticking around when shit hits the fan and then dying in the arms of cassian?? because he stayed?? and for the first time she has someone??

in that same vein: cassian also says earlier in the film that he lost everything too. his connection with jyn is also important to him, just as important as it is to jyn. they need each other. i can’t remember who on this hellsite said it, but someone mentioned that they hope the stand alone cassian stuff coming out doesn’t make him this swindling playboy who fucks around a bunch. i think having him as more of like?? a mandolorian type character would be really cool. like he’s a rebel assassin: make him one. make him independent and badass and cool and DONT give him a bunch of romantic or sexual interests because then that downplays the clear love he had developing for jyn. again LOVE COMES IN FORMS BEYOND BASIC SHIPS. and there’s a lot of love in star wars.

i’ve said it a million times but vader is so cool and over and over again this movie reminded me that he’s actually so scary. i saw star wars for the first time when i was 6 and i can’t remember my initial reaction to him, but i’ve definitely (like with the death star) been desensitized to the fact that if i was in star wars, darth vader would scare the shit out of me. he’s *scary* and that’s cool. i liked seeing vader effortlessly go fucking mad on these rebels. then you understand why they were so scared in that first scene of a new hope.

no i absolutely will not get over the vader scene. i won’t. his saber turning on. his force abilities. his effortless lightsaber work. the choral music over the scene with the hectic orchestra. don’t touch me i’m emotional.

i loved seeing leia. it touches me so deeply every time.

fuck i love this movie despite all its faults.

if you’ve made it this far, thank you!! i hope you enjoyed. please remember that this is totally a safe space for all star wars opinions and you can feel free to disagree with me! i’d love to hear what some of you thought :))

[monamourbladie-mb]

Hold Me - Anakin Skywalker x Reader (one shot)

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff mainly

Words: 1.4k

This is my first fanfiction here, so hopefully you guys enjoy it! Message me if you have any requests for Kylo or Anakin :) gif made by me

~*~

Y/n opened her cabin door and sighed heavily, immediately running over to her bed and collapsing down onto it. She turned and buried her head into her pillow case, gripping it tightly and screaming into it.

She was more stressed out than she had been all month long - it was one thing after another, piling up and beginning to taunt her. First, she was appointed general of yet another army - making her commander towards two different armies for completely different battles during the Clone Wars. Being at two places at once was practically draining and exhausting, and she was barely holding on by a thread.

Not only that, but she was being hit with guilt upon the loss of her clones. Today had the biggest bloodshed her squadron had seen - and she broke down in front of everyone. Already stressed out from her Padawan, Felecia, almost getting kidnapped and completely disobeying her orders days in a row; and getting into a massive argument over her safety with her secret husband Anakin days prior, she broke down.

Completely embarrassed from the sudden outburst, she stood up, brushed off her robes and excused her prior actions, cheeks red with embarrassment.

Now, hours later, her squadron’s missions both were complete, and she had a bit of time to breathe. So of course, she retired to her quarters and did the one thing she needed to do most - scream and cry.

Crying louder than she had realized, she heard a faint knock on the door. Gasping softly and sitting up, she started to try and make her face look presentable before standing up. She already knew who was at the door, it was her husband, Anakin. She had sensed his presence, and knew he too was in distress.

She slowly walked over to the door and opened it, seeing her husband’s worried blue eyes and immediately melting.

“My love... I heard about what happened on the bridge,” Ani began, sighing. “Can I-“

“Just hold me,” she spoke lowly, afraid to cry again. Y/n moved aside and grabbed his arm, yanking him into her - well, their but no one but them had to know that - room, shutting the door with the Force and hugging him tightly.

Instantly, she started to cry into his dark robes again, the comforting arms of her husband ushering her to let out her emotions.

Anakin sighed and pulled her closer, hugging her even tighter, “I’ve got you...” he buried his face into her hair and sighed, pressing a soft kiss to it as he squeezed her tighter in his arms, “I’m here darling. Let it out.”

“I-i’m sorry,” Y/n croaked, embarrassment reddening her cheeks again as she realized she started unloading on him without asking. “I should’ve-“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” Anakin hums, walking them a few steps to the right of them and letting her go gently. He slid off the darker part of his robe, sitting on the side of the bed as he chucked it to the floor. He picked her up easily, her small figure light in his arms. He gently laid her down on their bed, pulling her to his chest as he played with her hair softly, “Cry to me sweetheart. What’s going on?”

Y/n sniffled and hid her face into his shirt, gripping just above his belt a fistful of grey fabric as she cleared her thoughts. “It’s just a lot.”

“What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t let my beautiful wife talk about her worries?” He spoke softly, playing with her (h/l) (h/c) hair gently with his bare fingertips.

Y/n smiled against his shirt softly and closed her eyes. Though they were married for almost a year now, she still felt her heart flutter at the mention of their marriage.

“It’s not just one thing, it’s a lot Ani,” she sighed, trying to figure out where to start as she calmed her tears, “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Start from the beginning. What started the emotions to build up,” he replied. Y/n nodded, “I guess it started when we fought.”

“I caused you this pain?” Anakin stopped, a hurt expression on his face as he looked down at her. “No!” Y/n replied quickly, “It was guilt from fighting with you, that’s all.”

“I fought with you about that because I worry about you, angel,” he sighed, sitting up and pulling her onto his lap, cradling her much smaller body, “I don’t want...” he stopped, trying to find the right words so he didn’t scare either of them, “I don’t want to be called onto a planet leading a rescue mission because you were taken or killed in battle.”

Y/n looked up and saw the pain and fear of that thought in his eyes, and her heart strained. She hugged him tighter, sniffling, “I won’t ever let that happen.”

“And I won’t either,” Anakin sighed, caressing the back of her hair with his large hand, pressing her head further against his chest. “Was that all?”

“No,” Y/n mumbled softly, her eyes fluttering closed softly as he stroked her head softly, “Felecia scared me. I thought-“ she froze, the thought of it happening scaring her to tears again, “I thought she got kidnapped. She was fighting so well, and then she just disappeared... I saw her get dragged away by some clones, and I just... snapped.”

Y/n recalled the scary memory easily. Watching her much younger Padawan get dragged away, screaming and kicking as her lightsaber fell from her hand. Y/n screamed her name and ignited her purple saber as she rushed towards the drones, slicing through their body easily. Sometimes, the pure anger that always seemed to be pent up inside Y/n scared her, but it certainly proved helpful in situations like that.

“I almost hit her,” she blinked back more tears, “she looked so frightened. She looked scared of me,” A silent, hot tear tricked down Y/n’s cheek, “and it broke me. I’m afraid my anger will eventually lead me down a dark path.”

Anakin began to rock her softly as she cried harder, gripping his shirt tighter, “I hurt both people I love in the same day. First you, and then her. She’s like the daughter i’ve always wanted, and I scared her half to death,” she sobbed, shaking softly as Anakin shushed her, rocking her gently, “I’m not angry at you. And she’s not scared of you. She was shaken up, clearly. Remember she’s young - younger than most - and the fear of possible death probably was what scared her.”

“I wish that were correct,” Y/n frowned, wiping her eye, “but she told me that she’d never seen that fury in my eyes before. It scared her.”

Anakin started moving the pad of his thumb against the side of her face, drawing unrecognizable shapes against her soft skin as he continued to listen.

“And i’m just worried about my armies... one is hard enough, let alone two. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Ani,” her lip quivered, trying to contain more tears to spare his shirt from becoming completely soaked with hot tears.

“Forget the shirt,” Anakin chuckled, “I can change.” He pushed her back slightly so he can look in her (e/c) eyes and smiled softly, “I promise you’re doing an amazing job, sweetheart. There’s not another person that would’ve been better for the job Master Yoda gave you,” he spoke softly. “You’re doing amazing.”

“You would’ve been the better fit,” Y/n frowned, closing her eyes and hanging her head down, “It certainly doesn’t feel like I was the right fit.”

“You are. And you know why?” Anakin pushed her chin up gently and Y/n shook her head softly, “because you’re my wife. And my wife is the most amazing woman in the galaxy. The second best pilot-“

“Second?” Y/n furrowed her brows as Ani chuckled, “Behind me of course.” he kissed her nose, causing her to crinkle her nose up and smile softly. Though Ani was being serious, he always had to have that special occasional Skywalker playful manner that Obi Wan and her both loved to hate.

“Okay, okay, second best,” she giggled softly. “Right.” Anakin kissed her cheek before continuing, “She’s the most amazing woman in the galaxy. The smartest, strongest, and most beautiful woman ever. And somehow... through every bad thing I’ve done...” Anakin reached for her hands, kissing them softly, “out of all the men in the galaxy... she chose me.”

She blushed softly and pressed her lips softly against his, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ani.”

[anakin-danvers]

to love again

not my gif!

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!reader

reader is fem!

Request: “I loved them more than anything in this world, and they’re dead because of me.” With Anakin Skywalker please? Your last one was *chefs kiss*

Word count: ~2.8k

Warnings: mentions of death, angst, crying, feelings of guilt. 

A/N: Sorry for the delay my dear anon! I got busy with summer classes, but I wanted to get it out by today as a little birthday present for myself (wooo happy birthday to me!). I’m glad you enjoyed the last one, and I hope you enjoy this one! As always, please let me know what you all think, your comments always make me so happy! Also, requests are open :)

—

Keep breathing. Empty your mind. Just focus on the feeling of the Force within you, around you...just breathe. In, out, in again, out again....is that...is someone walking outside?

You open your left eye. Your right eye follows suit, your concentration broken. A sigh escapes your mouth, and you give up on your futile efforts of meditating. Uncrossing your legs, you get up from the floor of your quarters. It’s late and you should be sleeping. But you aren’t. You can’t. 

Every moment your eyes close, you see them. Their faces, their fear. 

You shake your head, trying in a way to shake the thoughts from your mind. Don’t think about it. The more you think about it, the harder it is. 

The cool floor press against your feet as you walk over to the washroom. There, you turn on the faucet, putting your hands under the running water and bringing it onto your face in an attempt to clear your mind. You dry off and make your way back to your bed, sitting on the edge and taking a look at the room before you. 

As a Jedi, you were taught not to have possessions, to live a simple life, and your quarters reflected that. The room was filled with the minimum, only little parts of it showing your personality. The bags of your favorite Naboo tea by the small kitchen. Your saber on its place in the table next to your bed. Some nice rocks you had kept from your missions to distant planets. Your favorite cup gifted to you by your former master during your padawan days. The colorful, handmade blanket on your bed–

The blanket they had given you. 

You shake your head again, a useless attempt to stop the images of the destruction, of their faces, from filling your mind once again. Defeat washes over you as the realization that you won’t be sleeping anytime soon becomes clear. So instead of wasting your time trying to sleep, you slip on your night slippers, put on your usual Jedi robe, and make your way out of your quarters. You decide to leave your saber behind, this being one of the rare moments you can actually leave it behind. 

The halls of the Jedi temple are quiet. It seems everyone else is doing what you can’t: sleep. You make your way down the halls with light steps to avoid making any noise. Your feet lead you to a nearby balcony, where you hope you’ll be able to clear your mind while surrounded by the night. 

As you approach the balcony, you realize you were wrong in assuming everyone in the temple was asleep. No, you are not the only one awake. Standing there, looking up at the night sky as you’d planned on doing is no other than Anakin Skywalker. 

Your feet stop. The point of leaving your quarters was to have some time to clear your head. Could you do that with someone present?

It doesn’t hurt to try. You two could just stand there in silence. Plus, the next balcony is on the other side of the floor you are on. 

With your mind made up, you continue to walk towards the balcony, hoping to not interrupt Anakin who seems to be lost in his own train of thought. 

As you reach the opening of the balcony, Anakin turns, a curious look on his face. You smile at him, your hand coming up to give a small wave. 

“Hi Anakin. I don’t mean to intrude, I just need some air,” you say. He nods and you make your way to the other side of the balcony, putting a good amount of distance between you two to try to give him his space. 

You know Anakin as well as you know most of your Jedi colleagues, at a distance and mostly formal. The interactions between you two have been limited thus far, mainly consisting of greetings around the temple with the occasional meeting on the battlefield. However, you’ve always wanted to get to know him. Your longing to know him better soon developed into something more, something that causes you to go red in the face whenever your interactions are more than just your routine greetings. But you try to suppress the feelings; Jedi are not allowed to have attachments. 

Attachments. Funny how you know you’re not supposed to have them, yet you do. Or at least, you did. 

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath to try to calm the emotions threatening to come back to you. The night breeze grazes your face, calming you more than your quarters had. You open your eyes, looking down at the bustling city of Coruscant below you. 

“You’d think that for a city that’s so loud, nobody would be able to sleep.”

You turn to look at Anakin, where you find him looking at you, his body facing you. His face is easier to see now, and you see how tired he looks, the lack of sleep evident on his face. 

“I guess nobody can blame us for being up, then,” you say. 

The corner of Anakin’s mouth lifts up slightly, and he looks down at his hands. You take that as a sign that he’s done talking, so you move to face the night sky again. 

“Do you mind if I join you?”

You find yourself looking at him again, and he looks almost sheepish as he waits for your response. You nod, your lips tugging up to a smile of reassurance. He makes his way to stand next to you, the heat creeping its way up your face clashing with the coolness of the breeze. Soon, he’s standing next to you, not too close to invade your personal space, but close enough that it was clear you two are here together. 

“I would ask you if you’re having trouble sleeping, but I think we’ve covered that already.”

“Yeah,” you say, a small sigh escaping your lips. “It’s been a rough few nights.”

“I understand. I’m going through a rough patch myself,” Anakin says, his voice growing quieter towards the end. 

“Well, I’m sure we are both out here to clear our minds, so we should try to do that.” You turn to face him, a sudden sense of confidence running through you. You ignore the way your stomach feels as Anakin turns to face you better, the ghost of a smile playing in his lips. 

“If you have any ideas on how to achieve that, I’m all ears.”

Your eyes look at the city below you, thinking of how you two can clear your troubled minds. With the feeling of Anakin’s eyes on you, your eyes dance around the different city structures, the speeders, the life around you. Then it hits you. 

“I know what we can do.” You don’t realize how excited you sound until you see one of Anakin’s eyebrows rising, the ghost of a smile manifesting itself into the real thing. 

“We’re surrounded by so much life right now. We can clear our minds by living through them in a way, imagining what their lives might be like.” At Anakin’s continued gaze on you, your confidence begins to shake a bit. “If-if you like, of course. If not, we can just enjoy the night in silence—“ You stop the beginning of your rambling as Anakin shakes his head.

“No, no, I like your idea. Living through them.” 

And so you begin to imagine the lives of the beings all around you. You take turns in the beginning, each thinking of a name for the driver of a speeder that passes by. Soon, you are both coming up with life stories together, adding unnecessary details that bring smiles and laughs to you both. 

“He owns a loth-cat named Obi? You can be a bit more creative with your names, Anakin.” At your words, the Jedi shakes with laughter, a fully-rounded laugh that lights a warm feeling in your chest. 

“What can I say? I admire my Master very much.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, the sudden laugh surprising you. It seems to surprise Anakin as well. 

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, it’s not that,” you rush to say while also trying to regain your breath from your laughter. “It’s just, you two always seem to bicker when together.”

A fond smile appears on Anakin’s face. “I guess it’s just the relationship we have. He’s almost like a brother to me.”

The honesty in his voice makes your laughter disappear. Instead, you find yourself smiling as well. You can see it, to be honest. Obi-Wan’s padawan years were cut short at the sudden death of his master Qui-Gon Jinn, so taking Anakin as his padawan right away meant they had to grow up together. 

“I can tell he feels the same about you.” Your words cause him to look timid for a second, his smile shy on his face. He looks at the city below him again, his face growing slightly more serious. 

“You know, for how much we’ve been told that emotions should be kept at bay, I believe my emotions are what have made me the Jedi I am today. Attachments...I know we’re supposed to reject them, but who would I be today if I did?” He shakes his head, his hands coming up to cover his face. 

He seems so vulnerable like this. It’s something you didn’t expect to be seeing when you decided to leave your quarters earlier. But here you are, and you feel almost honored that he’s showing this side of himself to you. 

“I understand, Anakin,” you say, placing a hand lightly on his arm. And maybe it’s the way the lights contrast with the night sky, or the lack of sleep you’ve had the past few days, or the way your heart seems to clench at the sight of Anakin before you, but something prompts you to keep speaking. “I...I’ve loved before.”

It was the first time you called it that. Love. You always knew that’s what you felt for them, but you were always too afraid to face the truth. Your confession makes Anakin turn to look at you. His face looks troubled but somewhat hopeful. 

“You have?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper. 

You nod, not being able to form the simple ‘yes’ you wanted to. The beating of your heart quickens as the images of their faces come to your mind once more. 

“I reconnected with family some time ago while on a mission.” It’s you who’s vulnerable now, your palms growing sweaty as you want to both stay quiet and spill everything you’ve been burying inside for the past weeks. Anakin catches on to your hesitation, moving so that he’s fully facing you, giving you his attention. 

“The mission took us to Tora, a small planet on the outer rim. It’s usually uncharted, so small that some consider it insignificant. It’s where I’m from originally. 

I was there with Master Plo Koon and the 104th. Commander Wolffe was talking to two locals, when one of them recognized me. Wolffe called me over; it turns out the woman who recognized me was my mother’s childhood friend. That’s how she knew who I was, she said I look just like my mother. Her and her husband knew my mother and father well, and they knew me. They were there when Master Windu found me all those years ago, and they were there when my parents sent me with Master Windu here to the Jedi Order. 

That night, I found my way to their home. There was this part of me that needed to know. About my parents. About what my life would’ve been if I hadn’t been Force sensitive. They indulged me in answering all my questions. They informed me that my parents had passed, my mother of an illness, my father of a machinery accident in his place of work. They comforted me as I cried.” 

At the memory, your voice wavers. You hadn’t expected the news of your parents to affect you, your memories of them distant. But it had, and they were there to comfort you through it all. 

Anakin takes hold of one of your hands, giving it a comforting squeeze. You look at him and he gives you a comforting smile, prompting you to continue. 

“We formed a bond that night. I visited any chance I could while on the mission. Even afterwards, I’d visit Tora whenever I found myself near. I was always welcome with open arms by them.  They’d have food waiting for me, and in one visit I found they’d made a blanket for me so that I could rest in between my missions.” You smile, they’re words replaying in your mind. 

“And I loved them. I know Jedi are not supposed to form attachments, are not supposed to love, but I loved them. I loved them more than anything in this world, and they’re dead because of me.”

They’d been among the casualties of a Separatist attack. The Separatists had wanted to take control of the region, thinking its lack of popularity would make for a great place to hide developments of any battle tactics against the Republic. 

Confusion falls on Anakin’s face, quickly followed by understanding. He shakes his head, his hands moving to hold your arms. 

“You can’t blame yourself, Y/N,” he says right as a few of the tears you’d been holding back make their way down your face. His hand comes up to wipe them away, the warmth of it bringing comfort to your broken heart. 

“I could have saved them, Anakin. I could have arrived sooner.”  More tears fall down your cheeks and Anakin continues to wipe them away. “I had to take their bodies out of the rubble. I keep seeing the look on their faces. The fear that was still there.”

Anakin’s arms come around you, bringing you to his chest. The embrace breaks your wall, the tears flowing freely now. His gloved hand comes up to lightly rub the back of your head. He doesn’t try to stop your crying, no, he lets you cry, lets you unbury all the emotions that have been eating at you from inside. 

Your crying slows enough that he pulls slightly back. He once again goes to wipe away the tears left on your face. 

“It’s hard, Y/N, I know. But you cannot blame yourself. You just can’t. It won’t let you sleep, it won’t let you eat, it won’t let you live. You need to be strong, for them, for their memory.” 

You nod, his words doing more for you than the sleepless nights wandering around the temple ever had. 

“Thank you for this, Anakin. I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you, it’s just been eating at me for longer than I would like to admit.”

The look of understanding returns to his face. “I get that. I lost someone very close, someone I loved, some time back. I too blamed myself, admittedly I still do. I’m working on not doing that anymore. There’s some nights I’m less successful than others, such as tonight.”

Realization hits you. The both of you had loved. And the both of you had lost those you loved. Now you two are working on it, but not alone. Not anymore. You are finding comfort, finding support in one another. 

“Anakin, I...” you stop talking, knowing there’s no words that can express what you want to convey to him. So instead you embrace him this time, your arms enveloping his waist as your face connects with his chest. He doesn’t hesitate on returning your hug, his arms circling you and his face burying itself in your shoulder. You hug him tighter, hoping you can express to him everything he needs to feel the support he’s giving you this night. 

After a few moments, the two of you pull back. 

“I cannot thank you enough for this, Anakin,” you say. He once again shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“If you need to thank anyone, thank the stars for having us walk onto the same balcony tonight.”

The warmth in your chest is sparked again, spreading until you feel warm all around. Not an uncomfortable warmth, but rather a warmth that makes you feel alive. 

You smile, a genuine smile that is mirrored on Anakin’s face. “Well then thank the stars.”

You look at one another for a bit, your smiles unfaltering, before Anakin speaks again. 

“Come now. I’ll walk you to your quarters. I think we will both be getting some much needed sleep,” Anakin says. You nod again, following him as he begins to move towards the temple. 

And as you walk side by side down the hallway to your quarters, both of your smiles still on each other’s faces, you believe that maybe, just maybe, you can love again.

[val-aquenta]

Wow her for angstpril prompt: “You Lied To Me.” Special post-Rako Hardeen mission fun :)

Here on ao3

Obi-Wan’s cough was rougher than usual, as though he was hoarse and his throat hurt. Anakin trembled with rage that never truly left since Naboo. The hurt and anger radiated off of him. Obi-Wan watched, nervously tracking his movements. “Sorry… I’ll just-” He moved to the side, dodging past Anakin and walking through the Temple hall. Anakin looked at him, noting the dark bruises under his eyes and the short stubbles of beard and hair. How dare he. Anakin thought with a scowl before moving on with his day. First he had gone and lied and then he wouldn’t even talk about it? 

They met again, right before Ahsoka and him were going to spar. Obi-Wan looked… worse? Anakin had attributed the rather pale complexion and tired look as results from his mission, but… perhaps it was not so. “What’s with the look?” He barked out. 

Obi-Wan turned large eyes at him, “Just… tired I guess.” He shifted uncomfortably, hands clinging to one another behind his back. Anakin, once more, noted the hoarseness of his voice, likely a result of his undercover mission. “I-” He began before cutting himself off. “Sorry.” He bowed his head and darted past, walking fast enough to avoid him. Anakin watched him go, confused. He shrugged and continued with his day. If it got worse, he’d… do something. 

Ahsoka remarked on it later that day. “Master Obi-Wan looks ill.” She seemed hesitant to breach the conversation, likely very worried about how Anakin would react. Anakin, contrary to her predictions, did not let out a wave of resentment and hate that he usually did when she mentioned him by name. “Did you notice?”

Anakin nodded. “Yeah. He told me he was tired, but…” He trailed off. “I don’t think so.” He finally finished with a deep sigh.

“I guess I’m… worried. He doesn’t look well at all.” She said, relaxing as she noted he seemed quite concerned as well. At least he wasn’t so hostile to the topic of Obi-Wan anymore. “I mean… I haven’t really talked to him for a while, so-”

“C’mon Snips. More sparring, less chatting.” He grinned. “Don’t want you turning into Obi-Wan on the battlefield, huh?” The worry churned in his gut though. He lost himself in the high energy of the spar. 

Two days later, he saw Obi-Wan again, looking more akin to a ghost than a living human. “Are you alright?” He asked, somewhat curtly. The betrayal still hurt and he still thought Obi-Wan was rather stupid to not tell him. He could act; nobody knew about him and Padmè yet. “You look…” He gestured vaguely at Obi-Wan who blinked, seeming kind of confused.

Obi-Wan startled, shaking his head a bit before looking up, a false smile plastered on his face. “What? Oh, I’m fine.” Anakin’s face fell. He knew this smile. He knew how Obi-Wan flashed it at senatorial galas, or in the Senate, or whenever the chancellor was in his perimeter.

“You’re lying.” He cut in bluntly. “I can tell. Why do you keep lying?” His tone became more aggressive. Obi-Wan leaned back, frightened by the display, his hands met together, clutching each other under the long sleeves of his robe. 

“I’m not.” He stammered a bit, eyes looking at the wall behind Anakin. “I told you before, I’m just tired. It’s been difficult getting the GAR back on track after my mission…” He trailed off, expecting some kind of burst of anger, something. “On that note I have a meeting with Mace.” he said and quickly slipped from Anakin’s view, darting around the corner with a swish of his brown cloak. I’ll shove him in the medbay after. Ahsoka might be necessary. Everyone knew how Obi-Wan could not refuse Ahsoka’s wide eyes if she really put her back into it. 

Three days later, he finally got the chance. Ahsoka and him were walking, still on their free time period, when he spotted that familiar gingery blonde hair coming his way. “Up ahead Ahsoka. We just need to get him to the healers.” 

Ahsoka nodded seriously. “I know, Anakin. You already told me.”

“Just making sure…” He trailed off as Obi-Wan came closer. Force, he looked even worse. The concern he felt from Ahsoka told him he was not the only one thinking this. 

“Master!” Ahsoka said, running over to catch him. “Wow… you look er…” Obi-Wan lifted his brow. “Are you ok? Shouldn’t you go to the healers or something?” She asked rapidly, her eyes wide and roving across his face. 

“I don’t think-” 

“Please…” Ahsoka seemed to be laying it on rather thick, but Anakin knew he would not notice, or would not care. “I mean… I worry, Master. It would comfort me if I knew that you were ok.” There was the kicker. Obi-Wan turned to him, a plea for help before turning back to her. Ahsoka blinked innocently, a concerned frown on her face. 

“Perhaps… we should go to my rooms. I-” He cut himself off, hand rising to his forehead. “I actually have…” He trailed off, pitching forwards in a dead faint. Ahsoka yelped, calling on the Force by instinct as Anakin reached forwards. 

“Alright… to the healers.” Ahsoka nodded, concern evident as she pressed a hand onto the really warm forehead. “Good job Ahsoka. He caved in seconds.” 

Ahsoka smiled, a bit pleased with herself. If she was honest, she was a tad surprised that it had still worked. The last time she had tried, she had been much younger, but it appeared Obi-Wan was still the same. To be fair, he still caved easily if Anain tried hard enough, but perhaps that was more because he was simply annoyed by Anakin’s rather… annoying techniques. “It did go well.” She agreed easily. 

“Don’t get too comfy, he’ll probably be harsher on you when you get older and lose your chubby cheeks.” Somehow Anakin freed a hand enough to poke her cheeks. 

“Hey!” She cried indignantly, swatting the hand. “Oh look, Bant’s on duty.” She said eagerly, nodding in the direction of the Mon Calamari healer.

“Healer Bant!” Anakin waved down. “Obi-Wan’s just fainted.” Bant hurried forwards, pressing her cool hand against his forehead and flinching back.

“Hmm, this was bad before, but now…” Anakin startled. Bant signalled for a gurney. “Alright, lay him down. We’ll bring him to the rooms. Feel free to come.”

“Wait… Bant! What do you mean before?” He raced after, Ahsoka at his side as they followed her into a prepared room. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

He asked worriedly. Bant looked back, somewhat exasperated before her look softened. “He… hasn’t told you?” She asked in confusion, her hand gently pressing against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, a comfort for herself. She released the hand and lifted him from the gurney to the bed. It was more a recovery room more than anything.

“Hasn’t said what?” Ahsoka asked, breathless. Anakin blinked to Obi-Wan before looking back at Bant. “Master Bant, won’t you say?”

“I… I’m not really allowed.” Bant stammered nervously, looking down at Obi-Wan, taking a small moment to grip his hand. “If he didn’t tell you yet, he probably will soon. Just… be gentle with him. He’s been through a lot recently.” she looked up, silvery eyes pleading with Anakin. “He’ll wake soon, then you can ask questions, but please… be gentle. It’s been rough.” Bant spent a few more moments fluttering around Obi-Wan and administering some medicines. Anakin laid a hand on Ahsoka waiting until she was done before approaching the bed. 

In the end, it took about an hour which they spent seated by Obi-Wan’s bed, Anakin fiddling with his arm and Ahsoka typing away on a datapad, before Obi-Wan woke up. He blinked lazily, taking in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, a custom that Anakin had learned long ago. His gaze turned from the ceiling to the two at his bed. “Oh… hello there.” He offered lamely. “Oh no. Did I…?” He trailed off.

“Faint in the hallway, yeah.” Anakin offered, replacing his tools in his belt before leaning forwards. “So… what’s wrong?” There was no point beating around the bush. Ahsoka clicked off her datapad and crossed her arms. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, feeling rather nervous. He had known something was wrong at the tail-end of the mission, but he had chalked it up to the experimental tech. Turns out, that wasn’t it. “An illness, Firthopo. It’s been there a long time, but only now became aggressive.” He swallowed, his hands fiddling on the covers of his bed. “We didn’t know it was there until now.” 

“Master.” Anakin sighed out, a familiar spike of panic and fear rising. “You… you told me you were ok. Can it… will you get better?” Ahsoka moved her chair closer, hand reaching out to clasp his. The warmth she had loved so much was there still, a welcome feeling.

“They don’t know. The late diagnosis and the nature of the illness makes it… hard to tell.” Ahsoka leaned forwards, burying her head by his side as though in the dark she could hide from the pain. “I… was going to say, but-”

“You said you were fine. Did you know?” Anakin asked. “Did you know you were dying, and  did you lie?” He said, quickly wiping away a stray tear that managed to jerk it’s way down. 

Obi-Wan leaned his head back, breathing deeply. So close to him, Ahsoka could hear the gentle rattling of his breaths. She pressed even closer. Obi-Wan slipped an arm around her shoulder, gently rubbing it. “I… I knew, but I thought perhaps-”

“You lied, Master. I thought you were just tired.” There wasn’t anger, at least, not much. It was overshadowed by great sadness. “You told me…” He trailed off, his breath hitching in a soft sob. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Anakin asked, shifting a bit closer, his hands loose on his lap. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do.” Obi-Wan was quick to respond. “I trust you, Anakin, a lot more than you think.” He swallowed. “I suppose I thought I still had a chance. That it might get better quick enough so you wouldn’t notice.” He admitted, looking right at Anakin. “I don’t know if I still have that chance.”He leaned a little, trying to soothe Ahsoka, feeling the trembles under his hand. “I think… I think it’s probably getting worse. The fainting is more frequent now.”

Anakin shook his head in denial, helplessness crawling through his head. “Can I…?” He gestured at Obi-Wan. He wished… a part of him wished he was young enough so he could crawl into Obi-Wan’s side and pretend there was nothing wrong. He didn’t crawl into the bed, but he did reach forwards and pick up Obi-Wan’s hand, cradling it between his own as if it were precious. He noted the pale complexion, the strange cold in the fingertips. “Do you know what’s going to happen?”

Obi-Wan shook his head a bit, “Not exactly. The disease is not well-documented because it’s so rare, but… if it’s too aggressive for medication, I might have a few months, perhaps even one? We don’t really know.”

“Months?” Anakin whispered, breathing shakily. “It’s not… Not nearly enough.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan said. “But that’s just how it is.” His voice was strangely garbled, in a way that only meant there were tears hidden. Sure enough, his eyes glimmered, water lining the bottom of his eyes. 

“Is that… is that why we’re on leave for so long?” Anakin asked hesitantly. “I want to be with you, please Master.” He pleaded. “I have to.”

“You know that isn’t possible. The war… it still goes on.” Obi-Wan said. “The people need your help, but I promise if it gets bad, you’ll be pulled back.” Anakin shook his head rather angrily. “It’s the best we can do. Already the Chancellor has a mission for you.” Obi-Wan struggled a grin. “You can rest here for now, though.”

[writer1]

A regretful Wolf and his Beauty

Chapter Five

Beast!Rex x Fem!reader.

Summary: As punishment for his actions, young prince Rex was cursed to become a monster by a witch. The only thing that saved him from his fate was an enchantress, who gave him a condition. He has to find true love in order to redeem himself and he only has until the last petal of the enchanted rose falls. Rex's family helps you by guiding your way into his heart. Rex's fate now lies in your hands.

A/N: Hey, this is a collaborative fic between myself and @ahsokatano-thetogruta. 

Warnings: feeling of anxiety, treating an injury, fear, self hatred.

Rex, Cody, Obi Wan and the four kids leave the room, Rex is still embarrassed about walking on all fours but it's not too bad. "Where should we go first?" Rex asks nervously. 

"We'll start by checking the rooms, someone's bound to be looking for you up here." Cody tells him, shuffling forward. Rex feels guilty everytime he sees his Ori'Vod's new form, he's trying not to feel guilty since Cody told him that it wasn't his fault, but it's hard. "Okay, let's go." They move forward, heading to the room right next to Rex's. There's no one in there.

Rex stifles a yawn, it's starting to be night time. He already didn't get much sleep last night, so he's exhausted. But he doesn't tell anyone, he can keep going. "Rex!!" Rex startles, hearing a deeper voice call out his name. He turns to see an adult suit of armor running down the hall towards him.

The suit has tatters of clothes on it, a brown cloth on it's head, and a footstool running and yipping behind him. It stops right in front of Rex. "Rex!! Are you okay, we've all been looking everywhere for you." The suit of armor tries to hug him but Rex flinches back, not knowing who it is.

Obi Wan and Cody realize what's going on, but before they can say anything Anakin beats them to it. "Wait, you don't recognize me? I'm your best friend." Anakin asks sadly, he's drooping now and feels like he would cry if he could. Rex's eyes widen, he looks at the suit of armor over again. Realizing the resemblance and that the tatters of clothes are, in fact, Anakin's.

"Anakin!!?" Rex shouts, staring at his best friend in shock. Rex is about the same size as the now armored adult Anakin while standing, or an inch or two taller. "What!!! Wait, Are you older?"

Anakin chuckles nervously. "Yeah, we still don't know why. And it's only physically, I still feel like a kid on the inside." Anakin looks back over his shoulder at the nervous angel hovering just behind him. "Padmé is here as well."

Everyone is confused about where she might be. "It's alright Padmé, you don't have to hide." Anakin encourages her to come out from where she was hiding behind him. The others gasp in surprise. She is smaller and she still looks human, except her body is made out of porcelain.

"Padmé, it is you." Rex looks at her dress, noticing it is the same one she was wearing at the party. 

"Yeah, the only thing that's really changed is that I look older, like how Anakin looks older but he's still the same inside." She smiles back at him, glad that they are in this together.

"As long as you are okay. I'm so sorry that this has happened." Rex feels a pang of guilt inside of him.

"Anakin told me what happened, this was never your fault. It's the witch's." She sounds annoyed that someone could do such a thing and then blame it on someone else, saying that it's their fault. 

"Thank you, though I still feel somewhat responsible." 

Padmé floats over to Rex and places her tiny porcelain hand on the side of his face. "We promise that we'll help you through this. You've helped us so much as well so it's the least we can do." She smiles at him and then floats back to Anakin, then she decides to sit down on the edge of footstool Artoo.

Anakin walks a little closer to Rex, slowly as not to make Rex feel uncomfortable "So can I give you that hug now?" Cody and Obi Wan watch the interaction between the two, neither of them had even thought to explain Anakin's predicament to Rex. 

Rex nods shyly, him and Anakin would give hugs to each other all the time, Anakin was considered family among the Royals, but Rex isn't sure why Anakin would want to hug him in this form.

Rex leans against the wall, standing to make it easier for Anakin to hug him. The Knight doesn't wait, wrapping his arms around the young werewolf. He squeezes tightly, pulling away only to give his best friend and brother a keldabe kiss. It takes Rex a few moments to get up the courage to hug his friend back, smiling. His tail starts wagging, thumping against the wall.

"What happened here?" Anakin asks, spotting the burn on Rex's arm.

Rex chuckles as poor Fives looks so guilty. "Me and my brothers did a group hug… we may have forgotten about Fives' hands being candles." Anakin chuckles, as Obi Wan and Cody continue to watch. 

Anakin and the kids have all helped Rex with this, and he them. Cody doesn't know how to fix this, the witch never gave them a way to break the curse, so it's very likely that it's permanent. He can't bear the thought of everyone being stuck in these forms for the rest of their lives. 

And how is Rex supposed to run the kingdom, if anyone outside of the castle sees him like this, they will hunt him down. The very thought would bring tears to Cody's eyes if he had them. "Is everything okay, Cody?" The desk turns to see Obi Wan looking at him, he's sure that if Obi Wan had a face he would be deeply concerned.

"I…" Cody hesitates for a moment. He doesn't want to burden his boyfriend with his worries right now. "I'm fine, Sweetheart" He tries to sound convincing, but Obi Wan can tell that something is bothering him, but he doesn't push him to say something he doesn't want to say.

"Okay, if there's anything you need to talk about, I'll be here for you, Cody." He places a comforting hand on Cody, seeming as he can't smile he may as well find another way to comfort his lover.

Cody tries his best to lean into the touch "Thank you, I appreciate it." He turns to the rest of the group. "Right, we need to go and find Kix now to help treat Rex's burn."

Everyone agrees and begins to search the castle again for Kix. Artoo pads around everyone, jumping happily and wanting someone to play with him. He goes to Anakin and whines by his feet. Anakin chuckles. "We can't play right now, Boy, but I'll give you lots of attention later, okay?" The little footstool barks in delight, making Anakin smile.

They've all been walking for a few minutes and Rex hears some people calling out his name. His ears perk up instantly at the familiar name and he lifts nose into the air, listening carefully. "What is it, Rex'ika?" Cody asks, seeing that something had grabbed Rex's attention all of a sudden. He hears his name again and he instantly recognizes their voices. "It's Kix and Jesse." 

Everyone is surprised at how much Rex's senses have heightened being a werewolf. They walk further down the corridor, Kix and Jesse's voices are now in earshot. The group walks up to one of the few guest bedroom’s the castle has, hearing Kix and Jesse inside. They all walk in, Artoo trotting behind them, sniffing everything. Artoo starts barking as everyone sees a pen walk out from under the bed. “Rex!! Are you oka-!” Artoo goes running at Kix before anyone can stop him, the pen’s eyes widen. “AUGH!!! No. No no no!!!” He screams, floating as fast as he can away from the footstool.

Everyone watches in horror as the puppy turned footstool chases the floating pen all around the room, Anakin runs and grabs Kix into his metal hands just before Artoo pounces on him. “Artoo, No!! Bad dog, Kix is not a toy! You okay, Kix?” He asks the pen in his hands, who’s clearly tired and… out of breath? After his ordeal. “I… I’m fine.”

“What the kriff is going on!” Everyone turns to see a piece of paper folded into the shape of a human walking out of the large closet, looking at them. “Jesse!” Rex yells just before Artoo growls menacingly, Jesse sees Kix in Anakin’s hands. Realizing what must have happened he yelps, running as fast as he can to Rex, who gently picks up the paper man. 

The young werewolf sits down with his paper cousin cupped carefully in his hands, it was difficult holding him with one hand while on four legs.. “Rex!!! They found you!” Jesse sounds excited, but he doesn’t have a face to show it.

“Yeah, Obi Wan and Cody found me.” Rex smiles happily, although he’s interested in what his older cousin has done to himself. “You folded yourself into a paper doll? Nice!” The thirteen year old tells him, Jesse nods. “Yeah, I also have plans for Kix to draw some details on me, but we decided to wait until later.” Jesse doesn’t mention why they waited, not wanting his younger cousin to feel bad. 

But Rex knows exactly why they waited, his ears press against the back of the head sadly and he can’t hold back the whine. His tail wraps around his legs tightly as his whole body droops in sadness.

Jesse places one of his hands on Rex’s finger, rubbing it soothingly. “It's fine Rex, we were all worried about you. No one minded looking for you at all, besides, I only thought of it and asked Kix about an hour ago, so it’s not like I was waiting long.” Rex smiles, bringing Jesse up to his face and nuzzling him. 

“Wait, why are the kids here?” Kix asks, noticing the younger kids standing on Cody. 

"They got worried about Rex so they came to look for him as well." Cody says with a little sigh. "But they did help Rex to feel better, telling him that being in this form doesn't scare them. And they are right." He wants to smile at the kids atop of him. "After all Rex, you are still our brother." Rex smiles, his ears perked back up from the feeling of his older brother snuggling up into his fur.

Kix smiles at the both of them and then sees the burn mark on his arm, so he rushes over to check on Rex. "Kriff! What happened?" He looks around at everyone with an annoyed look because no one told him sooner about the burn than now. He can see that the wound is fresh, telling him that it hasn't happened long ago. As he looks around at everyone, he sees Fives with a clearly nervous look on his face, still feeling guilty as he wrings his candle hands around each other nervously. 

"Don't worry about it Kix, it was only an accident. Me and Stutter were having a hug, so when Echo, Kiara and Fives joined in, the candle on Fives' hand burned me. But it's okay, it wasn't his fault." Rex explains, hoping that Kix would understand and wouldn't get too mad.

"Ah I see, I'm sorry that I overreacted, Fives" he smiles apologetically and looks over at Fives, hoping that Fives will understand that it's just his natural instincts as a doctor to do what's best for the health of other people, especially those close to him. 

"It's okay, Kix. You are a doctor after all, so I don't blame you for being worried about your cousin having an injury." Fives rubs the back of his neck. "I guess we're just all a bit stressed right now."

"Yeah, I don't know how I can treat this wound properly without having hands…" he looks around at everyone, most of them don't have hands except Obi Wan and Anakin but they are fully armoured, and there's Padmé but she is too fragile.

Jesse jumps up from where he was cuddling Rex's fur, who whines a little at the absence of his big brother hugging him. "I can always help you?" Kix turns to look at Jesse. 

"That would be great, thank you Vod. Though you won't be able to use the burn ointment in case you get wet and rip." Jesse feels sad, wanting to frown but he doesn't have a face, remembering that he's only made out of paper, so he feels a bit vulnerable.

"I c-c-can h-help with t-that p-p-part." The little paintbrush suggests, now floating above Cody. Kix smiles.

"That would be very helpful, thank you Stutter." Kix thanks his younger cousin. Rex smiles, happy that his family are being so kind to him, even though he looks like a monster. "How about we go and get you fixed up, Rex?"

"Yes, thank you." He winces at the thought of the pain on his arm. "Let's go." Everyone heads out of the room, Jesse sitting on Rex's head, holding onto one of his ears and Kix is standing with the kids on Cody. 

Neither of the two older cousins say anything about Rex walking on four legs, and Rex is very grateful for it. "How are you doing Rex?" Jesse asks, making Rex flinch. His cousin is right next to his ear, and his hearing has become much better so Jesse speaking was painful.

"Jesse! Be careful! Rex has better hearing now, and you're right next to his ear. You just hurt him." Kix tells his twin sharply, who slides down to Rex's shoulder. "Sorry Rex, is this better." Rex nods. "Yeah, it was only because you were right beside my ear."

"Good, now how are you doing? Me and Kix both saw how scared you were when you ran out of the ballroom." Rex's ears press against his head, remembering what the witch had said to him. "I… I don't know." He whispers, not knowing what to say. 

"I… I'm scared, and I feel so guilty." Jesse rubs Rex's shoulder softly, he hates that Rex feels guilty. His cousin did nothing wrong at all. "I already told you, Rex. There's no one to blame but that witch." Cody tells him again, and Rex wants to believe him, he really does. But he can't.

"I know, and I'm trying to believe you Cody. But it's hard, I can't stop thinking about what Ventress said." Anakin walks over, placing a hand on Rex's shoulder. " Cody's right. She lied, I could sense it with the force, Rex. None of this is your fault, and none of us will stop telling you that until you believe it." Everyone nods at Anakin's words, they will not let Rex believe that he's the reason this happened.

Rex nods, smiling at everyone. He loves his family, he's so glad that they aren't mad at him, even though he's mad at himself. "Rex!" Everyone freezes as they hear Rex's name called, they walk towards Kix's office to see a floating mop, followed by a floating frying pan carrying a turquoise teacup in it.

"Rex, there you are!" The mop floats over to the group, and Rex realizes who it is. "Waxer?" The mop does its best to make a nodding motion, moving the stick in a weird rubbery way that it should not be able to do. "Yep, it's good to see you, Rex. Me and Boil were worried about you." Waxer gestures to the frying pan. Rex is happy to see his 17 year old cousin’s, and one year old Numa. he does feel bad that they had to come looking for him.

"Thanks! You… you didn't have to come looking for me." The pan fly's up. "Do one of you mind holding Numa for a few minutes? I'd like to be able to look at Rex." Obi Wan walks over, carefully taking the fragile baby teacup from the pan. The little teacup giggles. 

After Obi Wan takes Numa, Boil sits up on his handle. Just like Kix he has a face, even a scratch shaped like his mustache. He flies closer to Rex, inspecting the kid's face. Rex's ears press against the back of his head as his cousin looks him over. "Ventress really changed you! Didn't she." Rex feels fear and sadness, thinking that Boil is saying that he's ugly.

"Boil! Why the Kriff are you being so rude!" The mop yells at him as the group looks at him angrily, the pan just realized exactly what he had said, and how it must have sounded to Rex.

Boil's eyes widen. "Oh, no. I didn't mean to sound rude, I'm just disgusted because that witch thinks she can do this to you and get away with it." Boil's eyebrows knit together in anger at even the thought of Ventress, but his expression turns softer when he looks at Rex again. "I'm sorry Rex." He feels a little guilty as Rex looks sad and hurt.

"It's alright, Boil. I know what you mean now, she has turned me into a monster." He frowns at the thought, still wondering why nobody hates him now because of how he looks. Waxer hates that Rex just called himself that, so he floats his way over to Rex to give him a hug. Well, it's more just that he's pressing himself into the fur on Rex. 

Rex gently places an arm around Waxer, hugging his cousin back. "Yeah, everyone keeps saying that and I believe them. But...even just having to walk on all fours makes me feel like an animal. Like I'm not myself anymore…"

"Everything will be okay, we'll figure this out." Waxer presses himself more into Rex before pulling away and floating back to his daughter, who's sitting contently in Obi Wan's hands, looking sleepy like she needs a nap. "Hey Boil, I think we should go and take Numa to bed." Boil nods and heads over, seeing his sleepy one year old niece dozing off in Obi Wan's hands. Waxer uses a soft voice when speaking to Numa to keep her slightly awake but not disturbing her too much "C'mon, Lil'un. Let's go and get you into bed." 

Obi Wan gently places her on Boil's back. "We'll see you both later." Waxer nods again and the two brothers float away. 

"Right Rex, let's go and treat that wound, shall we?" Rex nods and Kix leads the way to his medical office. There's medical supplies all over the place, Kix hadn't gotten to organizing his things yet, and he probably won't now. He looks around, flying over and finding the burn ointment. 

"Can someone.. uh… can someone please come grab this for me." The poor pen is so embarrassed, Kix keeps forgetting that he doesn't have hands. "Of course." Obi Wan says, walking over and picking up the ointment. He grabs Kix as well, carrying the two over and setting them on Cody.

"Do you mind also grabbing some bandages." Obi Wan nods, digging through a crate and grabbing them. He also sets them on Cody. "You okay with me setting these on you, Cyare.” He asks, feeling bad for not asking the first time. Cody does his best to nod.

"Of course I'm okay with you setting them on me, it's fine, Sweetheart." Obi Wan nods, stroking Cody's scar… or the mark that looks like his scar. "Okay, Rex, can you please come over here. Let's get you all fixed up." Rex walks over, Jesse's still on his shoulder, he sits down beside Cody. "Okay, do you mind applying the ointment, Stutter." The paint brush nods, dipping his bristles into the ointment and flying over to Rex.

"Sorry Rex, this is going to sting." Kix warns him, and Rex braces himself. He growls as soon as Stutter starts brushing it on, clenching his teeth against the pain.

He feels a comforting hand on his back, turning to see Obi Wan behind him. Cody presses against Rex's leg, trying to give his Rex'ika some sort of comfort. He hates seeing his little brother in pain.

"There, all done." Stutter pulls away as soon as Kix says that, and Rex sighs in relief as the pain starts to minimize. "Now can you wrap his arm up, Obi Wan?" The Knight nods, grabbing the bandages and carefully wrapping up the young wolf's arm. 

Obi Wan makes sure to be very gentle, not wanting to hurt Rex. He's careful not to rip out any fur while wrapping up Rex's arm. "There, is it too tight? I didn't rip out or pull any fur, did I." 

Rex shakes his head. "No, it feels good." Kix flies up to check it over, looking closely at the bandages. "It looks good, nice job Obi Wan." The Knight nods, happy to have helped.

"Okay, are we good to head to the ballroom? Hopefully Waxer and Boil spread the word of finding Rex to everyone." Rex plays with his tail nervously again, he really doesn't want to go into the ballroom. It's going to be crowded, and he really doesn't want a bunch of people staring at him.

"Do we have to?" Rex asks quietly, Cody shuffles a little, turning towards him. Everyone can tell that he's scared. "It's going to be fine, Rex'ika. No one's mad, everyone's going to be so relieved that you're okay." Rex sighs, nodding.

"Okay, are we going to be making food soon? I'm hungry, do you guys even eat?" Everyone looks at each other, they never even thought about the fact that no one's eaten in hours. And the only one who noticed was Rex.

"Well, it does make sense, we're all objects. But Rex should have eaten a while ago, we are getting him some food as soon as we're done in the ballroom."  Obi Wan tells everyone. They all agree, it does make sense, besides, some of them don’t have mouths to eat with anyway.

"Please don't make me go…" Rex whimpers, his fears are getting the better of him. Cody turns to everyone. "Can you all step outside for a moment, I need to talk to Rex alone." They all nod, and everyone walks or floats out. They're all worried for Rex, Padme carries little Stutter onto Anakin's shoulder to rest, it's way past the four year olds bedtime. 

Once everyone is out, Cody turns to Rex. The young werewolf is hugging himself tightly, tears in his eyes and his tail is wrapped tightly around his legs. 

Rex looks up when Cody has shuffled closer up to him, his heavy tears nearly spilling out with just the slight movement of his head "Please, Bubby. Don't make me go down." Cody's heart shatters, hating seeing his Rex'ika look so afraid. 

He shuffles around Rex, allowing the boy turned werewolf to lean into him and tries his best to give Rex a hug by leaning into him. Rex's sobs echoed throughout the room, the feeling of anxiety and fear eating away at him with each passing second. "Shh, it's alright, Rex'ika. No one is going to be mad at you, or even afraid of you for that matter." Rex wipes his eyes a little and sniffles, his ears pressed back against his head. 

"Why wouldn't they be?" Rex looks up at his big brother with watery eyes.

"We are your family. We would never abandon you, so when you need our help,  we'll all be here for you. No matter what, okay?" Cody's smile isn't visible, but it's there. Rex nods his head and then his tail starts to wag again, making him feel embarrassed. He's going to have to get used to that. "It's okay, Rex'ika. You don't have to be nervous." 

"I know, I'm just really happy to have such a great big brother like you, Bubby." He wraps his arms around Cody in a thankful hug. "You're welcome, Rex'ika. It's what brothers are for." Rex presses his forehead against the top of Cody, near his scar. He's grateful to have his brother there to help him out.

“Are you ready to go now, Rex’ika. As soon as we’re done we’ll get you some food, then you’re going to bed. I can see how exhausted you are.” Rex nods, getting on all fours. “Can you, Obi Wan and Anakin help me figure out how to walk on two feet please. I hate walking like this.” Cody nods. “Of course Rex’ika. Tomorrow we’ll help you, but I probably won’t be much help.”

Rex nuzzles his cheek against the side of Cody, ignoring the roughness of the wood. “I don’t care, I just want you there, Bubby.” Cody would be smiling at his little brother if he could. “Of course. But you might want to stop nuzzling me, you might get a splinter in your cheek, Rex’ika.” Cody jokes, and feels a warmness where his heart would be when he hears his baby brother chuckle for the first time since before being cursed.

“I don’t care.” Rex whispers, making Cody laugh. “You will when we have to pull it out.” Rex smiles, he stops nuzzling cody. His tail is wagging happily again. “I love you, Bubby.” 

Cody wishes that he could hug his sweet Vod’ika and never let go. “I love you too, Rex’ika. No matter what you look like, you’re still my little brother, and I promise that nothing in this world or the next can change that."

"Thank you so much, Bubby." Rex whispers, holding back tears from what his brother had just said. "You're welcome, Rex'ika. Now come on, you are probably starving." Rex's stomach growls loudly, answering for him. He can feel the heat rise to his cheeks.

"I knew it, we'll go to the ballroom for a few minutes. Then we'll see about getting you some food, hm?" Rex smiles and nods. "Yes please." Cody heads towards the door and Rex follows behind the shuffling desk. Rex opens the door walking out to see the group, they all have worried expressions, and Kiara floats towards Rex.

"Are you okay, Prince Rex." Rex smiles, nodding. "I'm okay now, but you can just call me Rex, Kiara. Any friend of Fives is a friend of mine." The feather duster nods, quickly giving him a hug. "Thank you prince…. I mean Rex. Your fur is so soft by the way."

Rex chuckles kindly, feeling a little embarrassed because it isn't a phrase that he's used to hearing "Thank you, Kiara." She smiles back at him. "You're welcome, Rex." 

"Shall we head to the ballroom now, then we'll get you some food?" Cody prompts his Rex'ika, glad that he's feeling a bit braver to face everyone else. Rex takes in a long deep breath "yeah." He breathes out, ready to face other members of his family and friends.

Everyone leads the way before Rex, he'd rather not be in front of them because he still feels nervous about how he looks, so having lots of people looking at him from behind will just make him feel insecure. Down the hallway, the sound of a piano plays an out of time tune, sounding a little broken but it still sounds sort of good.

They all arrive at the ballroom, hearing voices making conversation and sounding more like themselves. The sound of children playing and laughing echoes around the room as they all decided to play some games with each other. It looked like they were playing hide and seek, and now they are smaller it makes the game seem a lot more fun too because there are so many more hiding places.

Rex is glad that they have recovered after what had happened earlier on, seeing everyone writhing in pain and agony as they started to change and morph into inanimate objects. He smiles at the sight of children having fun with each other, 99 watching over them of course. 

As soon as Rex got through the door, everything fell silent, making Rex feel nervous again. His ears press back just a second before everyone calls out his name in unison and then hastily make their way towards him. Rex sees a little music box hop towards him and he has a pretty clear idea who it might be. "Soka, is that you?"

The little box stops just in front of him, opening the lid up to reveal an older looking Togruta in a burgundy dress. Rex could tell that this is Ahsoka, he recognizes her markings on her face, montrals and lekku. "Yeah, Ori'Vod. It's me." Rex looks surprised, she even sounds older too, though her excitable personality tells him that this is still his little sister. She hops over a little bit closer to Rex, grabbing one of his fingers and hugs it, wrapping her tiny arms around it as much as she can. "I'm glad you're okay, Rex! How are you?" She says with relief, happy that her big brother is okay now. 

"Yes, thank you. I'm alright, Soka." He pats the top of her head very gently using a single finger, making sure not to hurt his little sister. “I’m so glad that you’re okay, Rex. I was so scared when you ran and we couldn’t find you.” The little statue nuzzles against Rex's finger, loving the comfort of his fur. Rex smiles at his baby sister, he's so happy that she isn’t afraid of him.

taglist: @pinkiemme  @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @lightning-wolffe @captainrexisboo @ellie1366

[attemptingtowriteagain]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Senator! Reader

A/N: This was requested by @yana-versio​, I hope you enjoy it.

Words : 2810

   The halls of the Senate building were quiet as the small group moved it's way through the surprisingly empty corridor. You had to admit to yourself, it was almost an odd group to be seen together. Two Jedi masters, a Jedi Knight and his Padawan, three Senators, and a handful of both Clone Troopers and Coruscant guards. Not to mention the two droids that trailed behind.    The Coruscant guards didn't bother to knock, just marched the group into the Chancellors office.    Chancellor Palpatine stood at the large window, overlooking the city. The sky was as dark as it could be in a planet wide city. Taxi's, transports, and speeders could be seen in the distance, crisscrossing in their normal patterns. Only a few bright stars could be seen in the distance. The night life reminded you just how late it happened to be.    The Chancellor turned from the window as everyone filed into the room, motioning to the seats.    "I'm sorry to bring everyone here at such a short notice, but it is of great importance." He sat himself behind his desk and pressed a button. A hologram blinked to life and the Chancellor launched into an explanation of how the planet of Rodia was under a Separatist blockade. "The people are starting to starve and the new Senator is begging us to help them. I'm requesting that you all be sent on an emergency relief mission. I fear that is we do not help them, the people of Rodia might turn to the Separatists of aid. Much like the last time."    "The Separatist seem pretty desperate to have Rodia join their side."    While you were a new Senator and had never met any of the Jedi Generals in person, you knew who these men and woman were. Like most people on Coruscant, you regularly followed the HoloNews, and these Jedi were renowned for their clever battle tactics that often lead to Republic victories.    Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and his young Padawan, Ahsoka Tano were well known for their aggressive assaults while Jedi Master Plo Koon was revered as on of the best pilots in the GAR. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi that surprised you the most. He was famed for being more of a strategist than the other two but claimed just as many wins.    No, what surprised you the most was just how handsome the man was.    'The HoloNews did not due him justice.' You thought to yourself as fellow Senator Padme Amidala stepped forward to offer any support she could to the Rodia.    Padme had taken you under her wing after the untimely death of your predecessor, helping to get you situated with all of your new duties. Bail Organa, the other Senator to be called upon, agreed also. Both Senators turned to give you an expectant look.    With a flush, you stepped forward to address the Chancellor.    "Forgive me Chancellor, while I also wish to help the people of Rodia, I don't have any experience with relief missions. I feel I would only hinder the efforts of those who do have the experience." You held your head high but your voice came out soft.    "And that is why I'm asking you to go, Senator (L/N). Both Senators Organa and Amidala are experienced in relief missions; they will guild you." The Chancellor wasn't going to change his mind, so you reluctantly agreed. You saw Padme give you a small smile from the corner of your eye.    "So long as you're with us, I can promise that no harm will come to any of you." You couldn't stop the heat from rising to your cheeks as Obi-Wan addressed you.    "Thank you, General." You gave him a small bow, if only to try and hide your face. The next hour went by in a blur as the plans of the mission were prepared. Since Anakin's flagship, The Resolute, was waiting in orbit, it would carry the dropshit with the supplies. Select clones from the 501st, 212th and 104th battalions would accompany the Senators along with the dropship to the planets surface.    "We'll take a transport up to the flagship in the morning." Anakin said and gave everyone a time to meet at the Senate's landing platform in the morning.    Not long after, the Chancellor dismissed the group to get their affairs in order before leaving.    "I hope you're not to nervous." Obi-Wan's voice startled you as you turned to head to your office. There was a small smile on his face as he observed you try to avoid eye contact. Thankfully, the large headdress you wore helped. "We will keep you as safe as we can."    "I appreciate your concern." You spoke slowly hoping to keep the wavering out of your voice.    "Just do me a favor?" He had taken a few steps towards you and he was so close that you had to tilt your head back to look at his face.    "Stay close." ~*~    The sun was on your face as you stepped out of the taxi and onto the Senate platform. For the first time in month, you felt free and relaxed. You knew that is was probably from the fact that this is the first time you haven't been forced into thick robes or gowns and heavy headdress'. Padme had informed you last night to wear light clothes you would be comfortable moving in but pack Senate attire to meet with the dignitaries at the Rodian capital.    You smiled as you stretched, happy to remember just how comfortable simple pants, long sleeve shirt, vest and boots were.    The platform was busy with clones and servants loading a transport. You observed for a moment, trying to locate a familiar face. Grabbing your bag from the ground, you started to take a step forward when a voice called from behind you.    "I'm sorry miss, but this is a private platform." You turned to see Obi-Wan walking briskly towards you. "You'll have to go to the public loading platforms. If you need, I can have someone take you."    You could only stare at him open mouthed and in utter confusion. Did he not remember meeting you briefly last night? He gave you an expectant look as he watched you try to start a sentence and fail a couple times. You were saved from further embarrassment by Padme calling your name.    You turned from Obi-Wan to smile at Padme as she approached and pulled you into a small hug. Now it was Obi-Wans turn to gaze open mouthed. Out of the numerous times he had seen you during his visits to the Senate building, it occurred to him that he had never once seen you outside of elaborate garbs.        What shocked him the most was just home small you were.    Standing in front of Padme Amidala, he could see that she was almost a head taller than you.    "If you'll excuse us, Master Kenobi. We're going to board now." Padme held her hand for you to walk with her and you nodded. Before turning though, you gave Obi-Wan a small bow with a soft 'excuse me.'    Obi-Wan watched as you both walked up the ships ramp, your laughter floating through the air. ~*~    "So does anyone have any questions?" Anakin asked the room, closing the hologram he had been using with his briefing. The young Jedi Knight has just spent close to two hours going over three different plans. Each of the Senators had been assigned to a clone to stay close too. Padme had requested Rex since they had past experiences together and Bail had chosen Wolffe, which left you with Obi-Wan's Commander Cody.    "We should be dropping out of hyperspace in a couple hours so get some food and maybe some rest if you can." And with, the room started to clear as everyone went their own separate ways.    "Do you want to go get some food (Y/N)?" Padme made her way over to you and you left the room together.    "Sure, but I need to run to my quarters quickly to grab my holopad." You pointed down the hall to where you thought your room was. Padme laughed an told you that your room was the opposite way. You flushed and laughed.    "Do you want me to come with you?" She asked but caught the eye of someone behind you. You turned to see Anakin not so subtly staring at your friend, a look you couldn't quite make out on his face. You told her to head to the mess without you and once you had your holopad, you would come grab some food with her.    "Will you be able to find the mess hall?" You had already started to walk away and assured her over your should that it wouldn't be hard to find. ~*~    You hadn't lied to Padme when you told her that it wouldn't be hard to find the mess hall; it was damned near impossible. All the hallways in the Resolute looked the same and you somehow managed to get yourself turned around. You hadn't even seen another person or even a droid in the past hour. At this point you were close to panic as you passed another empty hall.    Tears started to well in your eyes but before they split over a voice called your name. You whirled around to see two clones walking up behind you.    "Commander Cody, Captain Rex!" You gave them a grateful smile and all but ran to them. "I'm really glad I found somebody." You rubbed your eyes, hoping to hide any trace of tears. If they saw any, they thankfully said nothing.    "Ma'am... What are you doing down here?" Rex asked, looking around.    "Oh..." You flushed and looked down at your feet. "I managed to get myself lost looking for the mess. I told Padme I would meet her there almost an hour ago." You admitted.    "Have you been wondering this whole time?" Cody raised an eyebrow and gave his brother a look. You refused to meet their gaze and nodded.    "Would you like us to escort you?" Rex offered and you sighed in relief.    "Please?"    It turns out that you were only one floor down from the mess hall, and when Cody and Rex opened the panel, you saw the room was scattered with groups of clones. After a quick glance around the room, you saw no sign of Padme. Cody and Rex walked a few feet into the room before turning after it was noticed that you didn't follow.    "Padme isn't in here, I should go find her. Thank you for assisting me. I'm not that hungry-" Your sentence was cut short when your stomach growled, loud.        You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up and both of the clones smirked.    "Rex, find some seats, I'll get the food." Cody started to walk away before he turned back to you. "Unless you don't want to eat with us."    "You've been so kind to me, I couldn't refuse." You bowed you head slightly and followed as Rex lead you to a middle table where five clones were seated, talking. Three in blue armor and two orange. Rex offered you a seat in between him an clone in blue with the Republic cog on his head, and across from the other four clones.    "Captain?" A clone across from you with a goatee and the number five on the right side of his head looked at you curiously.    "This is Senator (Y/N) (L/N). Senator, this is Jesse, Fives, Hardcase, Waxer, and Boil." He pointed at each clone in turn and to your relief, said nothing about how you had gotten lost. You all exchanged hellos just as Cody returned and tossed two containers of rations to Rex, who caught them effortlessly.    "So we heard this is your first relief mission." Hardcase leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn't help but laugh. ~*~    "I'm worried about (Y/N)." Padme paced in front of Anakin as he was working under a star fighter. "She never showed at the mess hall and I haven't been able to find her."    "I'm sure your friend is fine." Anakin rolled his eyes.    "I'm serious Ani!"    "Serious about what?" They both turned as Obi-Wan made his way over. Padme explained her concern. Obi-Wan ran his hand through his beard and thought for a moment. "I'll see if I can find her for you Senator. After all, it would be unfortunate if Senator (L/N) has gotten herself lost."    Twenty minutes later, after searching most of the level, Obi-Wan checked the last place he thought you would be. The mess hall. As he got closer to the mess, he heard some kind of commotion. When the door slide open, he was expecting to see some of the clones in an argument. But what he saw was even more shocking.    Hardcase was standing on a table, arms failing dramatically as he told a story. He was in the middle of miming firing a gun before pretending to be shot and falling. There was laughter and jeers from his brother around him. Sat in the middle of the clones was you, watching Hardcase with rapt attention. You laughed with the clones as Hardcase fell. His performance lasted a bit longer but when he was done, you clapped and smiled brightly.    "I see you’re being kept entertained." Obi-Wan's voiced caused all the clone to quite down.    "Harcase was just tell me about the 501st latest victory on Geonosis. It was really quite enthralling." Hardcase gave an exuberant bow.    "Senator Amidala feared you had gotten lost." Obi-Wan watched as your eyes darted to Cody and Rex and your face start to flush. "You got lost?"    "I may have taken a wrong turn." Your voice was measured but Obi-Wan could see the embarrassment beneath the surface.    "Well as entertaining as Hardcase's retelling are, I thought you might like to know, we'll be dropping out of hyperspace soon. If you would like, I could escort you to the dropship?" He offered his hand to help you up and you took it shyly. He didn't let go of your hand once you were standing, but instead offered you his arm. "So you don't get lost again." He grinned as your face flushed again. You heard some of the clones snicker and glared at the Jedi beside you.    As the two of you were about to step out the door, you turned back to wave a goodbye to the clones.    "I hope to hear more of your 'retellings' on our way back to Coruscant." A large grin broke out across Hardcase's face and he gave you a wave.    It was quiet for a moment as Obi-Wan and you walked. You dared to peak at him through the corner of your eye. He seemed to lost in his own thoughts.    "Yes?" So he wasn't that lost in thought.     “I was just curious about something, but I'm afraid that asking would... Overstep." Obi-Wan pulled you both to a stop. The hallway was quiet as the both of you regarded each other. He gave you nod and you took a deep breath. "Who is Satine?" Whatever he thought you were going to say, it definitely wasn't that. "Cody mentioned her. At that you two had a relationship."    "Why would you want to know about Satine and I?"    You really didn't have the answer yourself. It wasn't like you could tell Obi-Wan that Cody talking about Satine had made your stomach in jealousy. Which was ridiculous considering that fact that Jedi were forbidden to have attachments, something everyone in the galaxy knew. Plus there was the fact that you didn't even know him.   But you wanted to.    More than you had ever wanted anything.    "Satine and I have a past, yes. But we have no future, we haven't had one for a very long time. That was made even more clear the past couple times we have seen each other." Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his beard.    "Plus there is also the 'it's forbidden' aspect, right?" You couldn't disguise the bitterness in your voice and stared daggers at the floor. To your surprise, Obi-Wan chuckled. "What's so funny?"   Instead of answering, he gently tilted your head up.    "I may not have a future with Satine, but there just might be a Senator I would like to get to know and have a future with them instead. What do you say? Forbidden be damned."    Your breath caught in your throat and you knew Obi-Wan could feel the heat radiation off your face.    "You really are a terrible flirt, Master Jedi."    "Is that a yes?"    "If we make it through this mercy mission, it's a yes." Obi-Wan just smiled and continued to lead you down the hall.    Just what in the galaxy had you gotten yourself into.

[jedimasterbailey]

A preview of a Clone Wars Life Day fic I’m currently working on. Plenty of Barrisoka and Jedi wholesomeness to come!

Life Day

2 Days Before

Grandmasters Yoda and Mace Windu couldn’t help but smile at the sight of their Jedi Knights reporting back home from war duty. After several months of battling Count Dooku’s Separatist droid army, Life Day has allowed the exhausted Jedi generals and commanders to come home. Even in a time of war, Life Day is a holiday the Jedi Order honored. For hundreds of years, Jedi brothers and sisters, Masters and Padawans, have celebrated with the usual gift giving and feasting. It is a time of reflection, joy, love, and peace. Given all the heavy losses felt during the last two years of the Clone Wars, the esteemed Jedi Masters knew how important the holiday break was for their friends.Furthermore, neither Master believed Dooku would dare strike within these next few days. If the purpose of the war was to prove the Separatist movement to be superior, then a direct strike to Coruscant would be unwise

“It’s good to see everyone smile for once,” Mace exhaled, looking downward at Yoda.

“Yes, suffered enough, they all have,” Yoda agrees as fresh snow begins to fall from the cloudy grey sky above. “Enjoy this time, we must. Now, prepare for the youngling feast, I must go. Reunite with your Padawan you will, Master Windu?”

Mace lets out a chuckle, “Of course Master. That is once I finally settle on a gift for her and young Caleb Dume!”

The two then shared a laugh before parting ways.

_______________________________________________

Meanwhile down within the Temple’s main hall Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi and his former student Anakin Skywalker were engaged in yet another argument.

“For the last time Obi-wan, I’ll be the one to roast the tip yip! It was you who overcooked it!” Anakin huffed to which the bearded man calmly shook his head in response.

“Your memory fails you once more Anakin, for I recall it was you who forgot to baste the tip yip thus the result. Only you can accomplish ruining Ahsoka’s first Life Day dinner with us!” Obi-wan teased back.

“Ahsoka had a great time I’ll have you know, right Snips?” Anakin says turning to face his visibly annoyed Padawan.

“I had a much better time when you two weren’t constantly bickering like an old married couple!” Ahsoka answers with an eye roll, “So you two need to kiss and make up and figure something out before I…”

Ahsoka couldn’t finish her thought as a certain young woman came into view. In the distance, she sees the familiar silhouette of her new friend Barriss Offee. Barriss was walking alongside her Master Luminara Unduli, appearing to be laughing at something the older woman said. Since their first meeting during the second battle of Geonosis, the young Togruta woman has been fascinated by the Mirialan.

Having been in the company of men for so long, it was refreshing to meet another student her gender. Though Barriss appeared to be more advanced in her Jedi training than Ahsoka, striking a friendship was easy. Barriss, the Jedi who memorized 200 Geonosian tunnels to help destroy a droid factory and survive the torture of a mind controlling parasite, was just like her. Another child thrown into war, facing challenges no Padawan has probably faced in decades. Sure, Ahsoka has Anakin, Obi-wan, Captain Rex, and even Padme to turn to, but if anyone can understand her on a different level, it would be Barriss.

Dependable, beautiful Barriss. The one that can guide Ahsoka through dangerous missions and make her feel warm inside? Feel as though all time has stopped and it was just Ahsoka and Barriss. “What is wrong with me!?” Ahsoka thought to herself before being thrusted back into reality by Anakin’s finger snapping.

“Uh, Snips? You in there?” asked Anakin.

Ahsoka blinks, “What?”

Confusion washes over Anakin, “You were just telling me and the old man here to “kiss and makeup and figure something out” and then you just stopped talking. Are you feeling alright?”

Ahsoka’s orange cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment, “Uh, yeah I’m totally fine! Just tired I guess, but uh...seriously you two need to just forget about last year and think about what we’re doing this time around. Maybe we invite some other Jedi to help cook?”

Obi-wan smiles, “Master Unduli is actually a phenomenal cook if you can recall from last year. I was just thinking of having her and Barriss over for meal preparation as well as dinner. I’ll go ask her now!”

Ahsoka’s heart began to beat wildly in her chest at the mention of Barriss, “Wait, Obi-wan!”

Obi-wan cocks a brow up, “What is it Ahsoka? Are you sure you’re feeling alright, you sure are acting strange. Perhaps I’ll have Barriss have a look at-”

“NO!” Ahsoka shouts before making a run for it in the other direction.

“Ahsoka!” Anakin shouts back, running after her, leaving a dumbfounded Obi-wan behind.

“What did you do to make both of your Padawan’s run away Master Kenobi?” Luminara questions as she and Barriss approach the man.

“Honestly, I don’t have the slightest idea. Anakin and I were just trying to have a discussion with Ahsoka on our Life Day dinner, but she just acted strange?” Obi-wan replied plucking his beard in thought.

“Maybe she’s not feeling well? I can go check on her if you’d like Master Kenobi,” Barriss suggests politely with a bow.

“Not to worry Miss Offee, Anakin will get to the bottom of things I have no doubt. Those two are truly meant for each other...but I appreciate the offer as I’m sure you’ve grown to be a gifted healer!” Obi-wan beamed at the blushing Mirialan teen.

Luminara grinned at her student as well, “Indeed, Barriss is on her way to becoming a greater Jedi than I could ever hope for. I’m very proud of her, she shall save countless lives with her gifts.”

“Masters, you are too kind…” Barriss mumbles to herself, shyly earning a nudge from Luminara.

“We speak the truth, my dear, it is okay to acknowledge your strengths. Why don’t you go ahead and get some rest, I’ll be right behind in a moment. I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight?” Luminara proposed lovingly.

Barriss smiles, “That would be lovely Master. I’ll see you in a bit then, good day to you Master Kenobi. I hope Ahsoka is alright.”

“You’ll be the first to know if she’s in need of your services,” Obi-wan affirms with a bow.

Once Barriss turns to leave, Obi-wan quickly asks Luminara to help prepare the big meal to which the woman happily accepts.

“I’ll be there first thing tomorrow, I take it you still have the tea I like?” Luminara winks.

“Darling, you know I do. Quinlan just needs to bring the liquor!” Obi-wan laughs before taking a moment to look into Luminara’s amethyst eyes that had that same twinkle to them from when they were younglings.

The pair just basked in each other’s presence for a moment more. For once, the two Jedi Masters could just be Obi-wan and Luminara. Had Quinlan Vos been there too, the trio would be complete. Life was so much simpler then. When the assignment of the day was stealing midnight treats from the kitchens and there was nothing to fear. Obi-wan quickly takes notice of a change in his dearest friend. The usually serene Jedi Master looked as if she was withholding something from him.

“Lumi?” Obi-wan probed gently, his face softening.

Luminara’s breath hitched, “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in years…”

“Too long I’d say,” Obi-wan admitted with a tinge of guilt.

Luminara offered a small smile, “Perhaps you should say it more often then.”

With that, Luminara turned on her heel and walked in the direction of her and Barriss’s residence. Obi-wan watched from behind until she was out of sight. Not wanting to dwell on the emotions starting to bubble up inside, Obi-wan decides that now would be the best time to go gift shopping with Anakin and Ahsoka preoccupied.

_______________________________________________

[madeofsplinters]

Playlist Notes: “Playing With Fire”

@taxxxon suggested that I should write liner notes for my fic playlists (we were talking about pop music and how easy it is to project whatever context you want into a song, but conversely, how hard it is to then get that context across to another person who’s projected something different into the same song or who simply doesn’t care for it)

So, here goes - liner notes for the official “Playing With Fire” playlist

Listen along on: [Spotify | YouTube]

This is a whole series, but I decided to make a playlist for the whole thing, rather than one playlist per fic. (If you haven’t read the fics, these liner notes will probably make no sense; this isn’t a playlist meant to represent the Vader/Tarkin ship generally, but a playlist describing what happens to them in this very particular fanfic series.)

In This Moment - Adrenalize

Make me feel like a god Adrenaline and sex

This is mostly just a song that I added, partway through the playlist making process, because I wanted a few more songs for texture/pacing that were just straight-up songs about kinky sex. But it’s also a good summary of where the characters are emotionally, near the beginning of the series (like mid-”Do Not Be Prey,” or the first chapter of “Holding Vader’s Leash”) - craving intense sensory experiences, fascinated by each other, but both insisting that it’s nothing more serious, that they’re only using each other for this bizarre kind of pleasure.

Kim Boekbinder feat. Veronica Varlow - Sex Magic

Come put your magic inside me

This is actually the first song that ever went on the playlist - I was listening to it on repeat while I was working on “Do Not Be Prey.” The elastic, expansive, not-quite-concrete way it deals with bodies, while also being undeniably physically lustful, is perfect for the weird way that Vader deals with sex in this series. Plus, it’s a bop? The only reason it stopped being the opening song is because it’s a poppier song, and I felt like it didn’t quite prepare listeners for the LARGE AMOUNT OF ANGRY METAL that comes immediately afterwards :D

Liv Sin - Devil’s Plaything

In this flame that burns inside If you get too close, it’ll burn you alive

This is the part of “Holding Vader’s Leash” where we get a little deeper into Vader’s feelings - terrified of intimacy and of the way he could harm someone he cares about, because of how messed up he is inside, and pushing Tarkin away consequently.

Halestorm - Vicious

I'm not gonna break I can take all that you can give

If there was one song that sums up the kink dynamic Vader and Tarkin have in this series, it’d be this one - gleefully cruel, self-assured, convinced that one can handle anything one’s partner dishes out. It’s also, in a way, Tarkin’s answer to the previous song. Vader might be scared, but he’s not - he’ll risk it all, accept the consequences, and trust that he’s tough enough to survive.

Stitched Up Heart - Turn You On

I can't wait to watch your ego bleed And all the pain you feel will set you free

Here we’re transitioning into “Sea Life of Scarif” with another Song About Kinky Sex Just For Pacing Reasons. Not much to say about this one, except that the “Are you awake?” at the beginning is funny to me, given the number of times Vader rudely wakes Tarkin up in the middle of the night in this fic...

Halsey - Control

I can't help this awful energy Goddamn right, you should be scared of me

Annnnd suddenly we’re switching genres. This is such a good Anakin angst song, I’ve seen it on playlists about him before. Each successive fic in this series really cracks open Vader’s inner turmoil even deeper than the one before it. Everything about this song is appropriate and good and I can’t list all the reasons here, but I’ll mention just one - which is that “who is in control?” is as good a way as any to summarize most of the conflict between Vader and Tarkin in this story.

Digital Daggers - In Flames

And I know your devils I know them by name When you look my way Oh I'm not afraid

“Sea Life of Scarif” is also the fic where the whole dynamic collapses into tenderness, eventually. This song is Tarkin’s answer to Vader’s fear and vulnerability - forming a question/answer pair with the previous song like a stripped-down, more romantic version of “Devil’s Plaything” / “Vicious.” These disaster boys may yet hurt each other, but they know they’re where they want to be.

The Dark Element - The Dark Element

She lives in me And she lives in you, it is true It's in our nature So let her burn

Now we’re on into “I Will Not Let My Body Belong To The Dead,” which is the story with all the fun Sith Temple weirdness - so here’s a little ode to the Dark Side. In particular, the way it personifies the Dark Side in female form (as “your dead heart queen,” no less) is very appropriate for the way the Sith temple’s consciousness appears to Vader.

September Mourning - Overdose

There’s something inside me that dies to be near you Something alive in me wakes when I feel you

Meanwhile, instead of paying attention to the mission, Vader is consumed with his desire to experience physical touch again, even if it’s medically questionable or way too much for him to handle at one time.

Valerie Broussard - Deeper

I'm kicking all the doors down I swear I'm gonna pull you out 'Cause your demons have been screaming loud

Honestly, I’m not sure I’m completely satisfied with this half of the playlist? These songs might not all be in the right order. But anyway, this fic is also about Tarkin having to confront how damaged Vader is and how much help he actually needs, despite his invulnerable facade. He is, of course, undeterred - even when his way of being undeterred by the challenge crosses over into enabling Vader a little.

Three Days Grace - Fallen Angel

I was right beside you when you went to hell and back again And I, I couldn't save a fallen angel

Same as above, really.

Evanescence - Good Enough

Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand I can't say no to you

I’ve been told that Vader has only two modes - cartoonishly invulnerable, or horrifically vulnerable. This song is the latter. At this point in the story, Vader craves what Tarkin can do for him so strongly and has so little regard for his own boundaries or safety that they have to get medical intervention before he accidentally kills them both. It’s a whole thing! Not having boundaries is a whole thing. It’s romantic and yet very, very bad. I don’t know.

Skillet - Feel Invincible

I’m made of fire Who can stop me tonight?

And it wouldn’t be in character if it wasn’t immediately followed up with something from the cartoonishly invulnerable side. (Sorry, I LOVE this juxtaposition, I don’t care if I’m the only one who loves it.)

This song has a lot to do with what Vader and Tarkin both see in each other. Tarkin is a badass in his own right, but he’s even stronger when he has Vader (a dude who’s literally “earthquake powerful”) at his side. And there’s nothing like a person who genuinely cares for him, as he is, to make Vader brave.

(This is also technically supposed to be a Christian rock song, but I advise you not think about that very hard.)

Kesha - Godzilla

While everyone else is running and screaming I just love being with you

This is not a song I associate with any particular fic in the series; instead, it’s the song I picture playing while the credits roll, & it’s been the conclusion of the playlist since before I’d even started to write anything else beyond “Holding Vader’s Leash.” This is the secretly sweet, goofy, monster-loving heart of it all.

[mytardisisparked]

When Sunrise Comes Early: Chapter 2

Obi-Wan didn’t really remember igniting his lightsaber and jumping into the fray, but he must have, otherwise he would not currently be Force-pinned against the wall by a Sith Lord.

The other Jedi were in similar positions around the room, save for Yaddle, who was still unconscious. When the Jedi had finally overwhelmed the Sith, he had thrown them all back, holding them with such a power that not even Yoda was able to work his way out of the Dark Lord’s grasp.

Obi-Wan gasped for air as the Sith squeezed their diaphragms harder, like an invisible snake constricting it’s prey. 

How on earth can someone be so powerful? Obi-Wan thought, even as his mind grew hazy.

The dark figure cackled. “Incredible. Who would have thought that crushing the Jedi Order would have been so literal?” 

Obi-Wan could hardly see now, what with all of the spots swimming around his vision. Somewhere, so distant, he thought he heard Mace say something, but it hardly mattered now. The Sith had been too powerful for them to defeat and Obi-Wan was just... so... tired...

Suddenly, a voice broke through, shocking Obi-Wan into full consciousness.

“Master?”

With some difficulty, Obi-Wan raised his head and looked toward the entrance of the council chambers where Anakin stood, utterly shocked, as he took in the scene.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan wheezed, “run!”

But Anakin didn’t listen, he rarely ever did. He swiveled his gaze to the dark figure at the center of the room, fury blazing in his eyes. “HEY!”

The dark hood rustled as the Sith turned to look at the young boy, snickering. The mouth that was just visible under the cloak opened to speak, but he never got a chance to talk; Obi-Wan watched in surprise as Anakin thrust his hands out in front of him, throwing the cloaked man to the ground.

In that split second of the Sith’s confusion, he relinquished his grip on the Jedi masters and they sprang into action, pinning him to the ground. Underneath the pressure of their hands and the Force, he snarled wildly.

Mace Wind squatted by the dark figure’s head and pulled the hood of his cloak back.

Obi-Wan wished he could have been surprised to see the face of former Chancellor Palpatine underneath, but, in truth, he had never trusted the man and, after his recent actions, it made sense. The only thing Obi-Wan could feel was a growing sense of horror at how close to his padawan the Sith Lord had come. The intent behind his actions was now terrifyingly clear - he planned to turn Anakin Skywalker to the dark side.

Obi-Wan walked over to his padawan and pulled him into a hug, carefully keeping himself between Palpatine and Anakin.

“Mr. Palpatine, didn’t we just drop you off at your apartment?” Mace said, looking over the face of the Sith without much expression. 

“Foolish child!” Palpatine directed his attention to Anakin, who was now peeking out from behind Obi-Wan’s back. “I could have saved her! I could have saved your mother!”

Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s grip tighten on his robes.

Mace gave Palpatine a disgusted look. “Lets get him into a prison cell with Force-binders and inform the Senate of what’s transpired here.”

Palpatine went utterly still and strangely quiet as the Jedi hauled him out of the council chambers. As they left the room, he looked over his shoulder at Anakin and Obi-Wan and gave a low laugh that set Obi-Wan’s hair on end.

“Foolish. Both of you.” His eyes met Obi-Wan’s. “I could save him, you know. I could bring him back.”

An image flashed through Obi-Wan’s mind, for just a moment, of a very tall man with kind eyes and a warm smile who was looking fondly upon a small boy at his side, ruffling his auburn hair.

The Jedi pulled Palpatine out of the doorway and the vision ended, leaving Obi-Wan feeling terribly cold.

Mace kneeled next to Yaddle. “She’s alive, but she will need a healer.” He spoke quietly into his comm link, calling one up.

Obi-Wan glanced down at Anakin, who was huddled by his side.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace drew his gaze away from the boy. “Why don’t you take a moment with your padawan and then come find me in the garden.” He glanced down at the boy, looking a bit concerned. “I think we have a few things to discuss.”

Obi-Wan nodded and placed a gentle hand on Anakin’s back. “Come along, lets get you to bed.”

Both of them were quiet on the walk back to Anakin’s room, but the emotions rolling off of Anakin in the Force told Obi-Wan enough. Fear, guilt, and just a tiny seed of anger - Anakin’s thoughts were of his mother.

Obi-Wan ushered the boy inside and directed him to sit on his meditation mat. The Jedi settled himself across from him, folding his legs neatly.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan spoke quietly, “thank you for helping tonight. You did well.”

Anakin’s eyes flashed up to his master’s, surprised. “You aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be mad? You saved my life.” Obi-Wan smiled.

“But I-” Anakin looked away. “I got angry. I’m still angry. He hurt Jedi and he had the nerve to bring up my mom-”

Obi-Wan stopped him with a gentle look. “It’s alright to get angry; what really matters is what you do with your anger. The moment has passed and Palpatine is in custody.” He rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You can let those feelings go now.”

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. He reopened them after a moment and looked at Obi-Wan. “I’m still kinda angry.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “I know. Let’s go get something from the kitchens and see if that helps.”

With a shining grin and a bit of a skip in his step, Anakin leapt up and darted out the door, Obi-Wan following closely behind with a laugh.

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

Having gotten his padawan a snack and successfully convincing him to go to sleep, Obi-Wan trudged up the stairs toward the garden where Mace was already waiting.

“How is he?”

“He was upset, but we worked on letting emotions go a bit and I think he will be alright in the morning,” Obi-Wan sighed.

Mace nodded and began walking, motioning for Obi-Wan to follow.

“I’ve been thinking about Anakin’s mother lately.” The older Jedi looked contemplatively up at the night sky. “Does he still ask about her?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Sometimes, but not often. He mostly tells stories about things they used to do when he was younger.” He bit his lip. “I do believe he thinks of her more than he lets on, though. I can often sense her in his thoughts during meditation and when he dreams.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Why do you ask?”

“I think it might be of some benefit to young Skywalker if we found a way to free his mother.”

The younger Jedi’s eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing, waiting for Mace to go on.

“You’ve mentioned on more than one occasion that he struggles with balancing his emotions. He harbors fear and anger deep inside. I believe that the knowledge that his mother is free would ease his mind a great deal and help open him up more to his training.” He folded his arms against the night’s chilly air. “There are a lot of logistical issues that we would need to work out, of course. Namely, how we would free her since the Republic, and therefore, the Jedi, cannot directly interfere. We would also need to figure out where she could live. I don’t think she should live too close by since that might distract Anakin and encourage too much attachment.” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “But these are all things we can work out as we go. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Obi-Wan was stunned. Mace didn’t usually show this much individual care for any of the Jedi, let alone the young padawan he continued to remind everyone he didn’t trust. 

“I think this is an excellent idea.” Obi-Wan swallowed and smiled. “Anakin is a very caring person; knowing that his mother is free and cared for would, I believe, ease his sense of duty to her and allow him to focus more in his studies.”

“Excellent.” Mace smiled, the first true smile Obi-Wan had ever seen cross his face. “Lets keep this quiet for now, but we should start work right away. With the Senate focused on the case of Palpatine and his Sith affiliation, it will be easy to work on planning and executing a way to free Shmi Skywalker without interference.”

Obi-Wan’s face darkened for a moment. “What do you think will happen with Palpatine?”

Mace stopped walking and sat down on a bench along the path, suddenly looking ten years older. “I don’t quite know. The Senate will either vote to imprison or execute him. I’m not entirely certain how imprisonment will work; we don’t have the technology to hold a powerful Sith lord for an extended period of time.” He sighed. “That being said, I’m not fond of the idea of executing an unarmed man either, Sith or not. The public might feel the same way. Even if we tell them Palpatine is a Sith, they likely won’t understand the magnitude of that term; they have only ever seen him do good things for the Republic, save, of course, for his indiscretion with your padawan.”

“It is a predicament.” Obi-Wan settled on the bench next to him. They were quiet for a moment as Obi-Wan thought, an idea forming in his mind. “Master, do you remember the year-long mission I had with Master Jinn? The one where we were charged with protecting the Duchess of Mandalore?”

Mace raised an eyebrow. “Of course.” 

“Well, during that year, the Duchess would often share stories of when the Mandalorians fought the Jedi. She told me once that they used to have some sort of prison cell that rendered Jedi incapable of accessing the Force and utlizing it in any way.” Obi-Wan ran a hand over his beard. “Sa- the duchess mentioned that, when she regained her throne, she planned to destroy the devices, but it might be worth asking if there are any still in existence. Or, if they are gone, we might be able to find the schematics to build one to hold Palpatine.”

Mace was quiet - Obi-Wan could practically hear the wheels of his mind spinning. 

“That might be a possibility. I’d say its worth looking into. Are you still connected with the duchess?”

“I- ah, I haven’t spoken to her since that mission, but we were close for the duration of that year.” Obi-Wan thanked the moon for being waned enough to not reveal the flush of red he knew was creeping up his neck.

“Good. We will send you and your padawan to Mandalore to speak with Duchess Satine about the possibility of using one of Mandalore’s Force-suppressing prisons.” Mace stood. “We will need access to the device as soon as possible if we are to suggest it as a possibility to the Senate, so you will need to leave tomorrow morning.” He turned and gave Obi-Wan a softer look. “Once you return, we can continue to discuss the situation with Shmi Skywalker.”

He wished Obi-Wan a good night and left the young Jedi, stunned, on the garden bench.

Mandalore?

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his ginger locks. 

Satine.

He felt his heart start to pick up speed and tried to channel the calm energy of the Force to slow it back down. There was absolutely no need to panic. Sure, he hadn’t seen Satine since he was 19 and there had been some lingering resentment between them for a variety of reasons, but she would certainly be able to function like a professional adult, and so could he. 

And yet, as Obi-Wan looked up at the great expanse of stars and planets above the gardens, he had the nagging sense that he was already in over his head.

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Hey everyone! Thank you all so much for the support you showed on Chapter 1 of When Sunrise Comes Early. Seriously, It means more than I can express. I apologize that it has taken some time for me to release the second chapter, but I was struggling to figure out exactly what I wanted to happen next (and also I had final exams so that was a fun interlude in my life yee yee). I have a solid plan now though, and I’m excited to share it with you guys!

BTW- I originally published the first chapter to say that Anakin was 16, but I made an edit and changed his age to 14 because it felt better. Just wanted to clear that up.